Hello, all! This is a challenge from Let Love In. Each drabble will be based off of a single word. There is no plot, and some chapters will be AU, if I specify. So I hope you all enjoy! :D

THIS CHAPTER FEATURES: ChaseMaya

Disclaimer: I do not own the chapter titles or Harvest Moon.

Number One: Porcelain

Every day, she was there.

Why? Well, that question was obvious. It's not like she wasn't there before. It was her job, after all.

But that didn't mean Chase had to accept it.

That terrifying excuse of a young woman never failed to catch him every day during his lunch break, offering him her "special" tea, already steaming in a floral porcelain cup. And of course, each day he would decline. Chase had heard of Maya's cooking endeavours and was not willing to risk his stomach for her ego. Nevertheless, Maya would persist, grinning sweetly as she offered him that porcelain cup each mid-day. But that would only irritate Chase more. It seemed she would never give up.

That is, until one day Maya was no where to be seen as Chase's lunch break neared. Of course, Chase would inquire.

"Hey, Yolanda," Chase called out to his superior, who turned around with an eyebrow raised. "Where's Maya?"

"She had a cold today. She should still be up in her room." Yolanda responded. Her eyes glinted mischeviously and a smirk graced her lips as she continued. "What, you concerned about the girl? I always knew you were a softy."

"...I refuse to respond to that statement." Chase muttered, his cheeks red with embarrasment. Since when was he a "softy"? Grunting at the thought, Chase began to resume his work, but paused a moment, an idea hitting him. "...Hey, Yolanda... I'll be right back."

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"Ah...AH...AHH-- Ugh."

Maya sweat-dropped, rather dismayed by her anticlimactic lack of sneeze. Grabbing a nearby tissue from her nightstand, she blew into it, soon after that placing it onto the mountain of tissue by her bed, which seemed to be growing by the minute. What in the world had she done to deserve such a divine retribution? Maya couldn't really think of anything in particular.

Her thoughts, however, were interrupted by a knock at her door.

"Yeah, who is it...?" Maya asked, sounding quite pitiful. She hated feeling so puny. But there was no response from whoever was behind the door, so Maya was forced to pull her drained body from the warmth of her bed, regretting it as soon as her feet hit the ground. Sighing in anger at her own sickness, Maya shuffled to the door of her room, turning the handle to find no one in front of her. Irritated, Maya was just about to close the door until something on the ground caught her eye.

Sitting in front of her doorway was tea, steaming in a porcelain cup with floral designs.

After a pause, Maya picked up the cup, grinning widely.

"...Thanks, Chase. You really are a softy, after all."