Welcome to my first Harvest Moon fan fiction. I hope to give you all an entertaining spiel of how I think Jill would really act. I live on a farm, and I work my bum off on a farm. I haven't met anyone like Jill that lasts that long on a competitive, organic farm. I gave her personality because, frankly, that whole "nice, sweet goddess personified" thing is boring and unrealistic. Her purple eyes have a reddish tint for a reason.
So, if you like the unrealistic, innocent goddess thing, don't read this. If you want a punky, spunky, relatable and passionate gal who's just trying to make it while having fun doing it in this hellish world of ours, then come on right in.
Note: I have made some changes to thischapter. For a summary of those changes, please read thenotes at the end. Thank you.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harvest Moon (A.K.A. "Bokujou Monogatari). Marvelous, Natsume, and Nintendo are the ones who have claim to that. Also, I do not own anything else that comes up in this fan fiction. As an example, Pokémon. I don't own that.I do believe that I own this work, though, so no copying.
Now, let's get to the fun stuff.
Rated For: Now, I had a really funny list for this, but it's gone now. . . Anyway:
Weird clothes, the raver way of life, way too much partying, dramatic raver makeup, Rock doing a horrible robot dance, Marlin's hair, Gustafa's beard, Rock's asshole-ism, marriage, baby-making (well, they have a kid -- no sex scenes, I assure you), well, implied sex scenes (no descriptions, just a really lame, rated T fade-out), annoying teenagers, a bitter Takakura, a devious little Rock, and one very pissed, very possessive horse.
Note: Several things have been edited in this fan fiction. This topic is discussed in detail at the end of this chapter. Thank you. (Just in case you didn't read it the first time.)
You Cad!
Prologue: Pessimism on Hooves
Nami would never admit it, but today was a rather good day. She had been awoken nice and early in her room on the second floor of the Inner Inn -- for once not by Rock's (her next-door neighbor) snores, but by the beautiful late-winter sunlight. That night, she had actually had a good sleep: no dreams, no nightmares. One minute she had shut her eyes for bed, and the next she had opened her eyes to the beautiful morning.
She looked into the mirror hanging above her dresser. In her opinion, nothing much was staring back at her. Just a girl with short, unruly red hair, run-of-the-mill blue eyes, a semi-fair complexion that was beginning to tan, and really rumpled clothes.
Maybe it was the sun. Maybe it was the fact that Rock had finally capped his snoring habit (which would put anyone in an absolutely fantastic mood). Or, maybe it was because Nami's life was starting to turn around after one year in Forget-Me-Not Valley.
Whatever it was, Nami decided that she was going to change what looked at her in the mirror.
---
"Ruby-san! Ruby-san! Could you come up here?" Nami called from the rectangular "hallway" that was the second floor's main room. It was the same size as the two sleeping chambers of the Inner Inn, so it had plenty of elbow room. In the center of it, a staircase lead down to the foyer and front desk of the modest little place, rimmed with a banister to protect "clumsier guests."
(Of course, most people joked that it was to keep the inn-owners' rambunctious, party-hardy son from falling back down the stairs after one of his late night outings at the Blue Bar, located just a stone's throw away.)
A round, kind, oriental-looking woman walked up the stairs. She had short, black hair, small, dark eyes, a slightly tan complexion, and a wonderfully kind smile. Ruby was a brilliant mother and hostess. Everything about her screamed "sweet." It was no wonder that she managed to find love and happiness; she gave so much of it in return.
Naturally, people like this should be avoided when they finally snap.
"What do you need, Nami?" questioned Ruby as she smoothed her dark red apron. Nami mentally noted that she was wearing the same old yellow t-shirt with her long, earthy skirt.
"Uhm . . ." the redhead articulately replied, forgetting why she had called the woman up the stairs in the first place. "I would like you to wash my clothes . . . for . . . me. Ruby-san, are you feeling alright?"
The plump woman's small eyes were sparkling with happiness. "Oh, Nami-san! I've been waiting for you to ask me that! I've always wanted to help you with your laundry . . . Have you realized that you only own four outfits (all identical, even!), and you apparently haven't washed them once? Here, here, give me your winter one! Out of it immediately!"
With that, Ruby shoved Nami into her room, shut the door, and retrieved Nami's clothes off of her person. When they reemerged, Nami was wearing a light blue tank top with a big orange star on the front and red flannel boxer shorts. Scratching her head uncomfortably, Nami thanked Ruby of the Inner Inn and retreated to her room, shutting the door.
---
Ruby happily trotted down the stairs, muttering to herself about Nami's clothes. "These things are so smelly. Why does she never wash? Plain, orange tank top, light blue flannel, sleeveless vest, plain, light blue jeans shorts . . . The girl has no fashion sense . . ."
---
Back in her room, Nami was sitting cross-legged on her bed, her diary in her lap. Now was as good a time as any to update the darn thing.
Winter, Day 7, 1st Year in Valley
Yo --
Okay, so I decided to get my clothes washed. It doesn't mean anything. Maybe I was a little tired of feeling grungy.
I don't know. Maybe it does mean something. Surely getting your clothes washed doesn't mean that you're losing your moral standing in life?
Of course it doesn't. I'm being ridiculous.
Today, I woke up peacefully. No dreams whatsoever. I love it that way. Just a small, black void in memory. I'm sure I'm the only one who thinks so. The rest of the world is so bizarre. Few people can understand, and even fewer wish to.
I was woken up by the sun today. It felt great on my face -- a gentle caress. It made me think of him. He's a great guy. I think he may very well get me. No one really gets why I'm here, but I'm sure that he does. The way he gently smiles at me, his music, his words . . . He gets me.
Too bad for him that I don't fall for men that easily. Really, I'm pretty asexual. I'm not attracted to men or women. No interest.
Since I can't leave the room in my pajamas (Goddess forbid if Rock were to see me in them), I think I'll stick my head out the window and hear a ballad about love, loss, and nature.
Gustafa is such an odd fellow.
-- Me
---
An hour later, Nami walked out of the Inner Inn's main floor door, looking more refreshed than she ever had. After washing in Tim and Ruby's private bathroom, she had brushed her hair straight and made herself look as awake as possible. Instead of an unruly, wavy mane sticking out in all directions around Nami's face, her hair was now hanging down in straight, shiny, still-drying strands. Water marks rimmed her flannel vest's collar, and she had never felt more alive than at that moment.
She swung a right, walking down a well-trodden path. If she were to suddenly take another right after clearing the inn, she would find herself in the heart of the valley, where she would see Gustafa's Yurt (and hear his wonderful music), a small, wooded swamp, a creepy lab with science fiction-like, electrified rods towering above it, the Blue Bar, and the beach, which had two gazebo-like structures made for people to sit under where it rains, an old rowboat, and metal sheets weighed down by rocks.
If she were to swing a left after a few paces, she would discover herself to be at the old farm. Once upon a time, a dashing devil in his mid-forties worked the place, but shortly after his death (which happened two seasons ago tomorrow), the place fell apart. People just shrugged their shoulders and said, "The old boy died of being over-worked and having a broken heart." His wife had left him ten years ago, and he never seemed to have recovered. His daughter had never came to see him and never wrote, which furthered his pain exponentially.
So he just up and died, Nami thought, looking at the part of the farm that was visible from the pathway. A man by the name of Takakura had worked the land with him; now, he just lived there, alone, never doing much. Poor fool.
Nami stood there and looked around. She could go straight, cross the river, and go to Vesta's Farm, which was Takakura's farm's competition in the crop-growing department. Or, she could pass that, head up the dangerously steep, blood-thirsty-looking mountain, and go to the city.
Oh, that's right, she remembered. The bridge to the river on the other side of the mountain is out, so I'd have to trek all around the country just to get to the city. Darn . . . She wondered how Chris, a fellow redhead who doubled as a weather forecaster in the aforementioned city, ever got to her job on time.
Walking up a bit farther, she decided to not cross the bridge; instead, she was going to take the second left. This would take her down a horribly long trail (which had another entrance to Takakura's dump of a farm). At the end of the trail she'd find herself at the waterfall and woods, where gigantic flowers--ones as tall as horses--glowed with mysterious light at night, where a mysterious spring was, and where an old tree sat on its last legs (roots?)towards the very back of the mystical thicket.
Decidedly, she put her foot forward to continue down the path and to the wood, when she saw something quite unusual speeding her way.
A man on a gigantic, brown Clydesdale was charging down the mountain and picking up speed. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, and he was wearing a blue uniform that could've been either a policeman's or a mailman's. His dark eyes were dead-set on the path before him, and his black messenger bag slapped against the horse's flanks and his legs.
That may very well be the most determined looking mail carrier I have ever seen, Nami contemplated calmly whilestaring at him in complete shock. Wait, he's going a bit too fast--
"Look out, you fool!" he screeched. "I'm going to crash right into you, you idi--"
It happened suddenly. Nothing could have prevented it.
To Nami, the event unfolded in a slow-mo, dreamlike way. The horse's hooves were charging at her, aiming to squash her into the earth. The postman's determined-yet-frightened look as he tried to swerve out of the way. The blinders on the horse's head, hiding its eyes from the horror about to unfold. Nami just stood there in shock, thinking about how the horse wouldn't be able to see her anyway because horses' eyes are situated on the sides of their heads, so what in the world was the point of--
"Oof!"
Nami was on the ground. The horse's chest had made impact with her body, causing her to fall to the ground just in time to be stepped on between her shoulder blades by one of the horse's four hooves. The great beast charged past her, took a right, and disappeared up the way to the old farm, its rider shouting out a "Sorry!" as they went.
Nami pushed herself up. She was completely covered in mud and snow. Her newly washed clothes were ruined, and her hair was a great mess of mud, tears, and . . . She put a hand up to her head. Was that yellow snow?
Yellow snow?
The woman stood up and brushed herself off. Twenty-eight years of hell, she thought. Twenty-eight freaking years of hell on this earth, and yet there are still more ways of torture coming out of the woodwork.
She moved her shoulders in circles. Luckily, the damn beast didn't break her spine, but there was going to be a fine bruise and a great amount of pain by the day's end.
"Life bites," Nami muttered. With that, she marched back to the Inner Inn, ignored Ruby when she questioned Nami on her appearance, and slammed the door to her room shut. Marching over to her mirror, she put her hands into her hair and shook the stuff for all it was worth. Yellow-tinted snow fell to the carpet.
Perfect. Just wonderful.
She marched down the stairs and coldly demanded to use Ruby's bathroom again.
Ruby sighed; once again, the girl was devoid of any emotion whatsoever. Her ice-blue eyes looked dead, and her mouth had formed an indifferent line. It would take many seasons for her to get over whatever had happened. What a setback.
Ruby just tiredly smiled at the hopeless girl. "Of course."
Nami stiffly nodded her thanks, stomped through Tim and Ruby's quarters, and slammed the door to the bathroom shut.
"Screw this."
After that day, all in the valley noted that Nami had become a lot meaner, much more colder, and that her hair had never been crazier-looking.
---
"Hmm? What's this?" Takakura grunted as he was loudly interrupted while making his breakfast. There had been several cries of distress, some crashing sounds, and a great whinny. He put the stove burner to low and abandoned his scrambled eggs, wanting to see what was up.
Takakura opened his door, only to receive one and one-half hard knocks to his nose. Wincing, he put a hand over his face and cried, "What the hell?"
"Oh, sorry, sir! Terribly, terribly sorry! You see, you opened the door right when I was about to knock, and . . ." The postal service worker stopped dead when he fully registered Takakura's appearance.
The man was obviously somewhere around his late forties, and had thick, bushy black eyebrows which seemed to have gotten bigger with each year he had grown. His eyes were squinty -- so squinty that you couldn't see much of the irises -- but not in a mistrustful way. The man had his black hair slicked back (save a few unruly strands that refused to bend to his will), and wore a dirty undershirt and jeans. The thing that seemed to startle the postman the most was the large tattoo of an anchor on Takakura's tanned, muscled arm.
Dear Goddess, this man was in the army! He's muscled! And I just knocked him! This sent the poor man into another torrent of apologies and whimpering.
Takakura just raised one of his prominent eyebrows and waved it off. "'Sokay, boy. No need to get all riled up over nuthin'. Now, why would a youngun' such as yourself care to visit me? If you need a place to stay, there's an Inn right over--"
"No, sir! It's fine, sir!" the dutiful postman replied, straightening his posture in what he hoped was in a military fashion. "I was paid a great amount of money to get this letter to you as soon as possible!" With that, he thrust a bright red envelope at the old farmer.
Takakura eyed it suspiciously. "Are you sure it's fer me, son? I don't usually get . . ." he trailed off.
The postal worker shook his head vigorously. "No, sir, I'm sure! She said that you live on an old farm by yourself in Forget-Me-Not Valley, and she described the place a bit, just in case. Yessiree, I stake my badge on this being the place!"
For a moment, Takakura was silent. Then he opened his mouth and asked, "Son, just how much money is she paying you to get this to me?"
"Quadruple my already generous salary, sir," the man in front of him replied sheepishly, blushing and kicking at the ground with his feet. A whinny came from behind him, bringing his horse, which was lounging near the barn door adjacent to Takakura's log house, to notice. "Oh, and she paid for the food for my horse to and from here. The bridge is out to the river on the other side of the mountain, you know. I had to trek all the way across the country just to--"
"Yes, yes, I know," Takakura interrupted, suddenly snappish. He just figured out who the girl probably was. "Did this lady have a name? Do you have a name?"
"U-Uhm, my name is Harris, and the girl's forename was some foreign thing. Sounded weird."
"Lycoris?"
"Actually, yes, I think that was it," Harris said.
"Ah, I see," replied Takakura, seemingly more agitated the more Harris told him. "Did she state any business about the letter?"
"No, but she seemed rather sad when she gave it to me," the postman admitted. "I don't read the letters I deliver, so don't even think--"
"It's not about that," Takakura interrupted yet again. With a sigh, he began to retreat back into his one-room home. "Okay, I have it now. Thank you very much. You may go now."
Just as the tired farmer was about to shut the door, Harris cried, "Wait!"
Tiredly curious, Takakura stuck his head out of the entryway. "What is it now?"
"Uhm . . . If you will, I was paid to wait here until you replied to it and take your reply back . . ."
With an irritated sigh, the old man informed Harris that he would read the letter, promptly write a reply, and get it back to him before noon, so he should go out and walk around the town until then. Relieved to have an excuse to leave for awhile, Harris went to go wander about the valley.
Slamming the door behind him, Takakura shuffled over to his bed, where he sat down, grabbed his reading glasses from his nightstand, and read the letter.
"You've got a lot of nerve, missy," he remarked as he began to open the darned thing. "Never wrote, never came over after the divorce . . . Some'd go as far as to say that you were the damn reason yer father died."
---
Winter, Day Five
Dear Takakura.
Hello. I'm sure that you mustn't remember me. Hah-hah. It's been over a decade, after all. It's me, Rei's daughter.
Life in the city is really dull, but it's starting to get dangerous. Crime rates are up for the first time in years. Gangs are actually popping out of the woodwork -- nothing major, but enough to get the local authorities worried. The person in the apartment next to mine was mugged. She lost 20,000 G! In these apartments, that's just play money, but out on the streets, that's quite a bit.
I still say it's her fault for carrying it around.
---
Takakura stopped to laugh. The gal was still as smarmy as ever.
---
Anyway, it's sort of getting scary. I am in no way afraid, though. If you're careful, you'll do fine anywhere. Plus, I'm fairly strong, too. No worries!
So, you probably didn't hear, but I'm now one of the top CEOs of Digital Lycoris. We mainly make video games, but our top endeavor at the moment is to refine virtual reality capabilities. I'm fairly good at my job, but I don't know why the keep me on. I always come in late and tired because I party all night, I can't seem to make even the most generous of deadlines, and seeing as how I clawed my way to the top, I'm guessing that I'm not being kept on out of the goodness of the chairman's heart.
(Did you catch the name similarity? It's no coincidence. The chairman of the company has been dating my mother for years and said that the idea of natural beauty gone digital (hence the virtual reality work)came from when he saw me playing a video game when I was younger. . . Which is sort of creepy, when you think about it.)
Truth is, I think they promoted me to have a patsy. There have been rumors of embezzlement, and I think that they may blame it on me. Sure, there are bad things in the city, but this is what I'm scared of.
How's life in the country? The air in the city has been getting worse. Ugh. Like it wasn't bad already. I bet the air out there is fine, though. Is everyone there happy? Suicide rates have been increasing here. Hah-hah.
---
Takakura stopped. He suddenly had absolutely no desire to go to the city. Ever. It sounded like a hellhole from the very depths of the earth.
---
Can I be honest?
It's not that bad. It's wonderful here. Hustle-and-bustle life continues. The suicide rates are not up, gangs are not forming, and the air isn't quite as bad as I make it out to be.
. . . I still am going to be corporately, financially, and just plain screwed if I don't find a different job, though. That I didn't lie about. The thing is, I saw something happen, and I didn't like it. As I was walking to work on one of the smaller sidewalks (the width is about a bus's length -- you've seen them), I saw a boy trip and fall. He began to cry, and no one helped him. As I stood there and watched, something unthinkable happened -- a man actually stepped on him and kept going.
Stepped on him.
Can you believe that? It made me so furious I almost went after the guy and clocked him. The thing that saddened me the most is, though . . . I didn't stop either. I was going to be late if I did. I think the boy got a broken arm. I didn't stop to help because of my hustle-and-bustle life.
I'm not sure that I want all of this anymore.
So, what I'm trying to say is . . .
I want to work on the farm. For you. For me. For dad.
I'm so, so sorry. For everything. Please consider.
-Lycoris (It's foreign (you remember it, don't you?), but it's lai-ko-ris. Dad was always an odd one when it came to names.)
---
Takakura sighed. This was a predicament, but the girl had an honest-to-goddess good reason for wanting to come. Taking out a sheet of white, plain paper, he began to write.
"Well, girly," he said to himself. "Ready or not, you get what you wish for."
---
Takakura stood outside the entrance to his farm, watching the galloping Harris go up the mountain and out of sight. Just as Takakura was about to turn around to go back, yet another ruckus had begun to unfold.
"Oof! Nami, what was that for? Ahck! Hey, you can't kick me out of my own-- OW!"
Takakura turned around to see a tan, blonde boy get tossed out of the entrance to the Inner Inn. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and light blue boxers. Takakura checked his watch. 11:30 AM. Hmm, he thought to himself. Little early for Rock to be waking up.
Along with the golden-brown-eyed boy came a blanket and a pillow, both plain, normal white, along with a maelstrom of shouts and curses.
Rock's eyes widened. "Jeez, Nami, no need to be so angry." He let loose a loud yawn. "What's with the attack so early in the morning, anyhow?"
"You're snoring too loudly!" came the screeched out reply. Oooh, was Nami in a bad mood! Takakura briefly wondered as to why this was.
Rock blinked his eyes, leaving them half-shut. "If it's about your hair this morning, I think it looks great!" He tried to put on a positive smile, but with his half-shut eyes (due to sleepiness), it looked more like a contemptuoussmirk.
"URUSAI! (SHUT UP!)" Nami shrieked, shutting the door to the Inner Inn. A few stomping sounds and the sound of another slamming door later, and the scuffle seemed to be over.
Rock sat in the middle of the path with his blanket and pillow. Looking over to where Takakura was standing, he called out, "Hey! Mornin'! Little help . . . ?"
Takakura just laughed and shook his head. Like hell was he going to handle another issue that day. Turning on his heels, he marched right back up to his farm and gently shut the door to his cabin.
---
EDITS
Like I said, this went through some editing, so for any old readers, here's what changed:
Kestrel's name is now Lycoris. Although I am a .hack fan, the name change has absolutely nothing to do with .hack. Lycoris is a Greek name meaning "twilight," and has business and botanical connotations that work perfectly with this fiction. The business connotations will be revealed throughout the story. If you REALLY want the name changed back, give me a good reason why in a review.
Kestrel knows what the hell she's doing at her company (for the most part). At first, I thought it would be funny for her to not know as to what was going on at her company at all. Now that I look back upon it, it makes her come off as though she got her high status because she's a big-chested bimbo who slept with the higher-up people at her company, which isnot what this girl is like. She's still a potentialpawn for her company, but now she knows a bit about what her company does and is semi-competent, which is as much as most real-life CEOs can say.
Kestrel has an unstable personality. She'll normally come off as that loud, punky, spunky type of gal that I had in mind when I began writing this, but she'll also be reserved and quiet at times, and she'll act differently when certain things are brought up and such. Really, I think an unstable personality is very realistic. Few people act consistently throughout every situation they're in. Also, it may come to be a plot device later on in the story.
I think that's it. To get all of the changes to this chapter, just re-read the letter that Kestrel (now Lycoris) sent to Takakura.