In a small mountain town back in 1847 there lived a small family with the last name of Takahashi. There was an older brother by the name of Takahiro and a younger brother by the name of Misaki.

Misaki Takahashi was rather short for his age of 19 and has soft brown hair that was above his shoulders. His eyes were a bright emerald green and he had this kind way of speaking. He was easily offended, though, when it came to his height and usually rebounded with a harsh comment to the other person or he yelled about how much he was growing per year, when in reality, he wasn't.

The Takahashi brothers did not live with one another for Misaki, being 19, had come of age almost a year ago to move out wher he now lived in a little cottage with a farm of his own. He had wished his eldest brother the best for he had married by the time Misaki moved out and now had a child on the way.

Although Misaki had his own farm, he was a rather poor young man, but his spirits were always high. He cooked his own meals and cleaned his own home and woke up before the sun reached the horizon to work on his farm.

Every week he would go to the market and sell his goods to the people of the village and get a decent amount of money for his goods. Sometimes even his older brother would stop by to purchase his fruits and vegetables.

Seldom did a man by the name of Akihiko Usami buy his things, which was always a pleasent surprise for the young man. Mr. Usami was one of the most well known men in the village for he was fairly wealthy. Although Akihiko did not live in a large home, much to his dislike, he was said to have many things and it was rumored he often bought children's toys and filled his home with them, which didn't really matter to Misaki, as long as the man bought his things.

In this small village hidden in the mountains a story will be told about a young man and a rich man. They may find in each other something they thought could never come into play in their small lives.

Misaki walked down the road, pulling a small cart behind him and a large leather bag slung around his shoulders. It was the end of the week where he went into the town's market and sold what he had harvested. His first stop was at a large store where the owner had requested that the young man sell to him personally. He assumed it was because he was brothers with Akihiko and did not want to dwell with the commoners. He paused a few feet away from the store to straighten his clothes and hair and to tighten the scarf around his neck before walking the short distance to the front door.

He peeked inside to see the man, known as Haruhiko Usami, scribbling in a notebook. Misaki turned away and took a tarp out of the cart and placed it over the small thing. He tied it down and tied it to a pole before walking away and into the store where a small ding announced his arrival.

Haruhiko looked up from his scribblings. This man was the oldest of the Usami brothers, at the age of 31, and lived with his father somewhere far off away from the town and only came in weekly to buy from Misaki. He usually had someone watch the store for him while he was away. Haruhiko was a tall man with dark, neat hair. He always had a pair of glasses perched upon his nose and his face seemed always... blank, or apathetic. He had an uncaring air about him when visiting the village it seemed and would only talk to those he deemed important enough. Misaki felt pleased everytime he was allowed to sell his goods to a man of such high status and he would daresay call Mr. Usami an acquaintance, but thats as far as the young Takahashi was willing to go.

At his arrival he stepped more into the store to get away from the nip of the cold fall air. He shook the chill off of him as best he could and walked over to the counter quietly, Haruhiko watching his every movement.

"Ah, Hello, Mister Haruhiko." He smiled politely and waited for the older man to move his things from the counter so that he could place his produce there instead. He picked up his bag with a grunt of effort and put it on the counter with a nervous laugh following. "What would you like this week, sir?"

"Do you have strawberries?"

"Sadly no, I don't, Haruhiko sir. They're not, uh, in season." Misaki replied and he shifted on his feet uneasily when his buyer gave a dissapointed look towards the younger man. Takahashi instead pulled out a large watermelon and set it aside. "But these are nice and ripe, sir." He said, trying to ease the tension. The last thing he wanted to do was dissapoint a customer of such high status.

Haruhiko stared at it for a few seconds before shaking his head slowly. "A melon will do just fine Misaki, I like those better." he replied.

The younger Takahashi almost let out a breath of relief, but held back on it to save himself from further embarassment. He pulled out a melon and took the other fruit back, placing it in his leather bag. "Tell you what Mr. Usami, the next time that I have strawberries, you'll be the first man I sell them to."

Haruhiko nodded slowly. "Yes alright." He grabbed his book, flipped to a random page and wrote something down. "It's a deal then." He turned back to the brown haired man and held out his hand.

Misaki blinked in surprise at the gesture and looked up at the older Usami with a curious tilt of his head. He pulled out a handkerchief and held it and then put his hand in Haruhiko's. "A deal then." He smiled brightly.

Misaki left soon after with a friendly wave good bye. He had a new sort of bounce in his step after a short chat with Haruhiko. He took his cart and kept strolling on down street towards the town square where the weekly produce market took place. He usually had a stand reserved for the market because usually no one wants to buy from a boy with just a cart to put his name on.

He looked around to see others walking down the street with their products. Some people had more than he did and horses pulling wagons filled with food, and he was a little jealous of it all, but he could always make due so it never bothered him too much. It seemed a bit crowded today and when Misaki was finally able to make it to the market square, he had trouble trying to find out where he had reserved his stand. He was sure it was by the walk way that lead on to more parts of the village.

"Aha!" he exclaimed as he finally laid eyes on it. It was a small corner of the town square and there really wasn't a large crowd around it, much to Misaki's dissapointment. He walked over to it quickly and began setting up his things when he heard an angry grunt next to him.

He turned to see a man much taller than he was. He had a five o'clock shadow and short, slicked back hair. He was dressed semi nicely, probably his best wear to be able to draw people into buying his things. "Excuse me sir." He said, annoyed. "You took my spot. I was going to set up here today, so get lost."

"Well think again buddy, I reserved this stand awhile ago." Misaki replied and turned his back to the stranger. In that day and age you couldn't be polite and offer up something that you payed for just because some strange man demanded it.

The gentleman did not turn away and instead towered over Takahashi and glared. "You watch your tongue boy!"

"Look, sir, I got here first and spent my hard earned cash on it. It's just not automatically yours because you thought you paid for it." He replied with an air of annoyance. "So if you would, please leave." he turned his back away once more and continued to set up his things for the days run of the market. Misaki turned back to see if he was still standing next to his stall, but all he saw was the man's back as it disappeared into the crowd. The teenager let out a sigh and continued on with his things.

"I'm not selling it for so little Sir."

"A little man like you probably needs the money, now come on, accept the offer."

"Two pents for three bundles of corn? I don't think so! It's eight pents or go away." Misaki argued.

"And eight pents is a rip off, boy!" The man yelled back. He seemed almost similar to the man from earlier yelling about who had what stand, except he was much shorter and a lot more stubborn. He grabbed a random corn on the cob from the stand and pulled away, trying to take it by force but Misaki grabbed his wrist and pulled it back, a knife at his fingers.

"Steal from me and you won't have any more fingers to hold your precious corn. Eight pents." Misaki growled, glaring up at the man.

He let go of the corn and yanked his arm out of Misaki's grasp. "Watch yourself boy, you don't wanna be insultin' the wrong kind of people."

"Just go." Misaki replied quickly and pointed him away. "I don't need you scaring off customers, so if you please, remove yourself from my stand." He glared at the man, who looked like he was about to kill the teenager. He then huffed, straightened his coat sleeve, and left. Takahashi grumbled to himself, "I have had it up to here with idiots bothering me today." He picked up a few coins a previous customer had traded him for some carrots when a deep voice spoke up from behind him.

"I wouldn't let it get to me personally."

Misaki jumped a little, the coins he was picking up fell to the ground and the young man quickly got on his hands and knees to pick them up. Another person knelt down, leaning back on his haunches, to help. The teen looked up to fuss at him for trying to take his money, "Hey buddy I-" but he was cut short by the familiar figure, the lavender irises, the glasses with a chain. "M-Mr. Usami, sir!" He yelped and quickly stood, hitting his head on a shelf from his stand, grunting, and then standing. "I'm... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.. to..." He looked away, a blush covering his face."

He heard the click and clack of coins hitting a wooden surface, and a pleased sigh. "You're welcome Takahashi." and with that, Akihiko Usami turned and walked away into the crowd.

"Wa...it..." but it was too late, Akihiko was already lost in the crowd, and all Misaki could do was feel like a fool. With a shake of his head, the teen put his money away and stomped his foot. "Yeah, I shouldn't let it get to me!" He exclaimed happily, fist in air. "Those guys can't do anything to me! Haha!" He pulled out his knife and jabbed it at nothing, "Try and steal from me why don't ya! Ha!"

The rest of the day passed without incident and Misaki was able to sell more than his usual share, which was good enough for him, and left him going home happy. He packed up his things, shared a few laughs with his companions, and yawned. He was more than ready to go home and just sleep. Days at the market usually did that to him.

He pulled his cart along behind him with some effort and stopped every so often to adjust an article of clothing or to fit his leather bag on his shoulder better. He kept on trecking down the street where the sun began going down behind the mountain tops. Misaki looked up, hoping to see bright, vivid colors, and was not dissapointed. There were different hues of pink, orange, and light purple. The sun was giving off just enough light to cast shadows over the mountains.

The teen smiled and closed his eyes, humming to himself. He liked sunsets, it was one of the nice things about living up in the mountains, that and it was easy game. He opened his eyes just in time to see that someone was about to run into him, because they man decided to be looking across the street and walking at the same time. Misaki couldn't move fast enough and bumped shoulders with the man. "Oi! Watch where ya going!" he yelled and walked away quickly, too soon for Misaki to apologize.

"People these days..."

It was snowing a couple of days later. The day after the market fiasco, Misaki looked at the clouds, which were a dark gray, so he had decided to harvest as much as he could and cover the other crops with tarps. He was right on his hunch, because the day that followed, today, it snowed.

He wrapped himself with his best winter clothes that he had, which were filled with holes, and sat by the fire. He made himself comfortable with a bowl of soup and a blanket. He had only taken one sip of his meal when a pounding noise could be heard. Someone was knocking at his door, and they wanted in.

Misaki put his food down and dropped his blanket to the floor to answer the door. He hopped over a sack of potatoes and ran towards the front of his house to open the door. What he was faced with was a very heafty looking man. He had a rough appearence to him with a big booshy beard, large arms and shoulders, and had a good six and a half feet to him. Misaki shrunk against his glare.

"You dat boy who bad mouthin' me mates?" he asked with a booming voice.

"I.. I don't know what you could be talking about sir..." Misaki replied, his voice the exact opposite from this brute, and it trembled with fear.

"You shut yer filthy mouth, yeh? I been hearing you be bad mouthin' me mates and run into one w'th out o'pologizin' yeh?" He grunted and spat on the snow. "Kids 'ese days ain't got no manners." He turned his back and whistles, jabbing a thumb in Misaki's direction. "O'er here boys!"

Misaki peeked from behind the brute and saw that he had come by wagon and that two men, bother smaller than the one at the door, came running over. Although they were smaller than the first man, they were both still built and look like they have one a fair share of fights. The teen was trembling in his spot.

Misaki stared up at them like a deer in headlights, and one of them laughed. "I-I'm sorry if... if I offended any of your friends sir! I certainly didn't mean anything by it, I would glady go and apologize... I-if you want..." He trailed off and the end of his sentence could barely be heard.

The brute motioned with his head to the guy on the left and he came forward, grabbing Misaki by the collar of his shirt and yanking him up off his feet. "Wouldn't you be though?" He snarled. He was missing some teeth.

The first one let out a sort of grunt-laugh. "Take care 'o him, yeh?" He turned and went back to the wagon, pulling a cloak up over his head to keep the snow off.

"Look I'm sorry alright?!" Misaki gasped, clenching at the man's arm that was holding him up. "I-I didn't mean a thing by it!" He pleaded, "I'm sorry!"

"You will be." One replied and swung his fist, the crack of bone heard clearly.

An owl's hoot is sometimes soft, sometimes loud, or even a shrill screech depending on the breed. Tonight's owl was not that one, and it let out a soft hoot into the night.

Misaki woke up in a crumpled heap behind his house covered in snow. He opened and closed his eyes multiple times, wishing the pain away. He lifted his head and breathed in, wincing at the sharp pain in his ribs. He put his head back down and only wished to sleep here in the cold, to be wrapped in a blanket of white, but he knew better.

He had tried to fight back, to kick his assailers, but one had held down his legs while the other continued to punch him. In the end, he came out with a bruised ribcage, a black eye, swolen cheeks, and a broken arm.

Being poor does not have many benefits, including trips to the doctor whenever one felt like it. He would have to patch himself up and come up with a makeshift cast until it healed on its own.

He layed there in the snow until he couldn't take the cold anymore. He slowly sat up, cradeling his broken limp, and stood, wincing and hissing through his teeth. "Ah... o-ow..." He shivered and his teeth chattered. He turned to face the back wall of his house and leaned against it. "It's cold as death out here."

Misaki limped back into his house slowly, wincing everytime he put too much pressure on one side of his body. He put more logs into the fireplace, started it up, and grabbed wrappings from his kitchen to wrapped around his broken arm. He fell asleep by the fire, blanket wrapped tightly around his body.

Looking out the window a week lately, Misaki silently agreed with himself to not go to market that day. His arm was getting better, and almost three days after the incident, he went back to working on his farm, ignoring the pain.

So the day went by slowly. The young man sat in his chair at the dinner table and stared out at the food in front of him, a weight on his heart telling him that he should have sold these. The unsold food taunted him, making Misaki cringe, and he resolutely decided to ignore it and scooted away, looking up at the ceiling instead.

"It's not my fault I got beaten to a bloody pulp." Misaki mumbled, crossing his arms indignantly. "Why should I feel bad? Because someone tried to steal from me?" He grumbled and went into the other room. "I shouldn't." He said, and that was that. He put put a few logs on the burner and started it up. "Going to have to sweep in here..." He said as he looked around. Ash covered the floor around the fireplace. He went into the other room and started to sweep slowly, only so that the ash wouldn't fly up every where.

Later that day he made himself dinner and decided to eat at the kitchen table, ignoring the pile of food that he was supposed to sell that day. He made himself a measely meal of rice, pork, and beans. He took a few bites before he heard a quick knock at his door.

Still a little shaken from the week before, Misaki grabbed his knife and stuffed it in his pocket, afraid that it might be those men who had pummeled him before. He walked over to the door and called out, "Who is it?"

There was a short pause before a deep voice replied, "Mr. Haruhiko Usami."

Misaki let out a sigh of relief and opened the door. "Haruhiko." He said with a shy smile. "What brings you here?" he asked with a bright smile.

The man did not answer immediatly and shoved pass Misaki, letting himself in. "You did not stop by Takahashi, why is that?" He asked, scanning his surrounding area. He looked down at Misaki to see his arm wrapped up in a cast. "You broke your arm?"

Misaki nodded quickly and shifted from foot to foot nervously. "Uh... Yeah, fixing something on the roof... And I uh.. Fell." He lied, averting his eyes.

But Haruhiko seemed to buy it and went on to nod slowly. "This is where you live."

Misaki nodded and he blushed lightly. "Uh... Yeah." He added, nodding.

Haruhiko hummed to himself and turned towards the kitchen. "Do you have anything to sell today? I assume that you will be needing the money seeing how you were not in the market." He asked, not looing at the flustered teen.

The young man couldn't help but gawk at the man in front of him, but he quickly corrected himself and stared up at him questionably. "Why would you want to buy from me? There are plenty other people selling their crops."

Haruhiko turned and glared at the boy, who shrunk back and stuck his hand in the pocket with the knife. "You do not know what I want, now take me to your kitchen." he demanded.

Misaki nodded and put his head down. "Yes sir." He replied quietly. He turned the way Haruhiko was facing before and walked on, "This way." the teen said, his head up now. When they got into the kitchen, Misaki placed his pocket knife down on a table and turned towards the table. "Um.. Would you like to take a seat?"

The older Usami didn't reply and instead took a seat as offered. He looked at the food on the table and the half empty plate of dinner, which Misaki snatched up and placed on the counter. "This is it then?" Haruhiko questioned, staring mutely down at the produce in front of him.

The teen rocked back and forth on his feet. "Yes sir, it is." He replied promptly, nodding at the food. "Haven't been able to harvest much with a broken arm, so I apologize for not having much to choose from." He added, hoping to make the situation less awkward. Sadly, Haruhiko was a hard man to talk to.

The man stared at the assorted fruits and vegetables, thinking to himself. It took him some time to decide, the whole while Misaki stood there awkwardly glancing at him and the food. Finally Haruhiko leaned forward and pulled out 3 bundles of bell peppers and an apple. "This is all I want." He said with a flat voice. He stood from his spot and pulled out a pouch, walke over to the counter, and dropped it on the surface, a quiet thump and a tink followed.

Misaki stood stunned as Haruhiko left and closed the door silently behind him. The teen turned on his heel and shook his head. "Bed. Now."