Harvest Moon does not belong to me, nor do any of the related characters or settings. I own nothing but the fic.

This oneshot is set in Harvest Moon: Animal Parade

It was Molly's practice to rise bright and early in the morning. She rose at 6:00 A.M. precisely each morn—not too long after the sun's first rays had begun to spread over the horizon. She had much work waiting to be completed before the end of the day, and she didn't like to waste time.

Today started out as a morning like any other. It was fall, and the air was crisp and tainted with a light breeze. She stretched her limbs thoroughly after having eagerly lifted herself out of the bed, and cast a small smile to the window. There were jobs to be fulfilled, but immediately after those, there was always the rest of her day to look forward to.

Typically, she finished work around 10:00 A.M. She had formed a particular order of doing things, and she did her work in that order every day. Her first task was to take care of her birds. She would enter the coop and greet her chickens and ducks with a soft voice. The fowls were always happy to see her, and pounced out of their nests when they saw the feed she was preparing to hand out. They would eat gaily as she gathered up the eggs they had left for her overnight. The eggs were excellent quality and there were numerous of them. For the most part, Molly would take the eggs she had collected and put them into her shipping bin to be shipped and sold for a good amount of money, but occasionally she kept one or two eggs, to be used in her cooking projects.

After she had cared for her birds, she would enter the stables. Her livestock awaited her there. She owned a cow or two, and they produced good-quality milk every day. She had one sheep at the moment, and it didn't produce wool as often as she might have liked, but it did give her wonderfully soft wool that she either used in the making of another product or shipped off to be exchanged for a nice sum of money. Her horse did not provide her with a product that she could ship, but Molly loved it for its companionship and, after her work on the farm was done, she would take it off for a ride around Harmonica Town.

After Molly had taken care of all her animals, she would head off to her garden. Her garden she had filled with dozen of seeds. It took a great deal of energy to water all her plants, but the results were well worth it. Like the products she received from her animals, in Molly's garden there would grow numerous crops that were both delicious in her cooking and money-earning in shipping.

After all her work was done, she would relax for a moment and regain her energy in the hot springs behind her house. Once she received her composure back, she would mount her horse and trek up the trail to Garmon Mines to visit her friends who lived there. From there on, she would travel all around Harmonica Town, tending to chores and talking with the many friends she had acquired over the year she had been living in the town.

Today seemed like a morning like any other. However, there was one small detail that would throw a kink in Molly's plans for the entire day. Perhaps it might even daunt her for the rest of the week.

Her heart threatened to pound right out of her chest. An uncontrollable heat burned across her cheeks. Her eyes skimmed over the words of the letter again and again. What daunted her most was the three final words of the letter—So be prepared.

A letter had arrived that morning in the mailbox just outside Molly's door. It was a small envelope. There was no fancy stamp on it, nor any important notice stamped on the front of it. All that was written on the front of the envelope was her own name, in slack cursive.

Curiously had she opened the envelope, wondering from whom it could have come. As she gently peeled the paper away, her mind went over a couple of names she knew. Perhaps it was from her friend Kathy, or Hamilton, the mayor of Harmonica Town. It could have easily been a letter from one of the local stores in the town, notifying Molly of some new product that they had recently acquired in their stock.

It was not any of these people. The letter was from a straightforward redhead from Garmon Mines—a strong, hardworking young man… for whom Molly felt such a deep affection.

His name was Owen. His letter was short. Not many words were spent expressing Owen's thoughts. Nonetheless, it was enough to send Molly's head into a whirl and her stomach into a twist.

"Molly

How are you? Thanks for spending time with me the other day. Time goes by so fast when I'm with you. I wish I didn't have to say good-bye to you each time. … what am I thinking? I'd like to be with you forever. So be prepared.

Owen"

Molly read the letter over again and again. Did it mean what she thought it meant?... no. Surely it did not. There was no way. Yet there the words were on the paper. It was obvious what the blacksmith's apprentice meant.

Molly blushed. She lifted her eyes from the paper, realizing the fact that she was blushing. She wanted to stop herself from acting like this. She simply couldn't help it. The fact of the matter was, she had received a love letter.

… a love letter.

Again, she blushed. She had only read about others receiving love letters. She had never received one herself. She had never even known anyone in real life who had received a love letter. It seemed like such a remote concept that was reserved only for those who were special.

Was Molly special to Owen?

She had been talking to the boy for quite some time now. Owen was the one who introduced her to mining in the Garmon Mines, and had given her her first hammer with which to mine. She had always thought he was a friendly person. He was always honest; he never minced words, yet he was also believably courteous. Molly had hoped they were a bit more than simple friends, and it did seem like it. After all, Owen had gone out of his way on more than one occasion to travel all the way to her home to deliver her a gift from him to her specially. They also had hung out together, and they were always able to relate to one another.

I'd like to be with you forever.

Forever… yet again, another concept that seemed far too unrealistic. Nothing in Molly's life had lasted forever. Her life on the farm was the only real thing she had that had lasted for a year. Her childhood had been full of fleeting joys that were replaced by depressing cataclysms as quickly as they had come. She had moved to Castanet to escape her former life that almost came crashing down on top of her. She had hoped to find happiness, but never imagined to find love.

Molly folded the letter back up and began to slid back into its envelope. No, it wasn't love. Not yet. Owen's letter was both obvious and obscure at the same time. Nothing he had written had openly stated he was in love with her. It simply let her know he was thinking about her, and thinking about her consistently.

Molly stared at the letter within the envelope in her hands. The beginnings of a smile began to tug at the corners of her mouth. Somehow… she didn't mind if Owen wasn't in love with her. The simple fact that he had made the effort to let her know that he cared for her—even if it was merely platonic—gave her such a pleasing warmth deep within her chest.

Abandoning all thoughts of commencing her usual farmwork, she dashed back through the door of her house and towards her bookshelf by the window. She grabbed a slip of paper and a pencil, and brought them over to her table which was placed in the centre of her room. She slid into a chair by the table and laid the paper firmly on the surface of the table, beginning to write with the pencil upon the faint blue lines of the paper.

"Owen

You don't have to thank for me the other day. I should be the one thanking you. I loved it. I love spending time with you. And one more thing… I would be very happy if one day you and I were to end up together with each other for the rest of our lives.

Molly"

The young farmergirl brushed back some of her light-brown bangs and read over her letter. Satisfied with her wording, she folded up the paper and stood from the table to return to the bookshelf. She placed the pencil back down in its original place and took an envelope instead. She slid her folded letter into the envelope and sealed the envelope.

She placed the letter into her rucksack, the straps of which she slid over her shoulders and the bag onto her back, heading back out the door of her home.

Now she must get back to work. She had a long day ahead of her…

… spending time with the boy she hoped to spend the rest of her life with—Owen.