I've had this story floating around in my head for the longest time (presumably two years or more), but was too intimidated by my limited vocabulary and dulled writing skills to spill my imagination to the few people who may read this. So, after making an attempt to brush up on my writing, I have decided to finally embark on the quest to deliver my account of Jill and Skye's relationship. Heh, I made that sound "epic". I did have an "epic" story in mind, so we'll just see how this turns out.

By the way, I changed Jill's name because. . . well, I didn't like it. I apologize if your name is Jill or you know somebody with that name.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon or Chuck Norris. That should be sufficient enough to avoid being sued and receiving a roundhouse kick to the face, right?

I zipped my harp into its padded case and gave it a gentle pat before heaving it onto my back, grunting under the twenty-four pounds of maple wood, and began the long trudge from my little farm to Romana's villa for an evening practice session with Lumina. This was the highlight of my week; I loved my farm and was very fortunate to live in such a beautiful place, but the work was so tiring and tedious that at times I felt like running naked and flailing an article of clothing in the air out of frustration. It's not like anyone would care if I actually did that, considering the police wouldn't come all the way to Forget-Me-Not Valley just to charge some lunatic with indecent exposure.

I was exhausted, and the midsummer heat combined with the weight of the instrument was taking a huge toll on my already sore muscles. My knees were beginning to buckle and I sighed in defeat, looking for a place to rest.

Managing to drag myself to the side of the road, I slid the harp off my back gently and slumped against the wall of the Inner Inn, sinking to my haunches in the dirt. I turned to face the paneled wall and supported myself against it with my hands, arching my back slowly until my spine emitted a satisfying crack.

I eased myself off of the ground and deeply regretted not stopping at a different building when an annoyingly familiar, smug voice intruded my eardrums for the umpteenth time.

Rock, the libidinous, self-proclaimed village philanderer and pimp, loitered in the doorway of the inn, tossing his blond hair that was styled in a way he apparently thought was sexy. His real name was unknown to anyone; when people asked about his unusual title, Rock just claimed that he was "tough like a rock" and that it was his "pimp name". His tawdry sense of style and sleazy manner drew in naive, shallow girls who, oddly enough, delighted in his provocativeness and often misused street terminology. Contrarily, I found him to be a despicable, perverse, depraved being who wasn't worthy of eating the dirt that any woman walked on.

"Well, well, well," Rock purred in what he believed to be a seductive tone. "Look who came to visit the Pimp Daddy." His voice was decidedly a bit castrato for someone in their late teens, which I frequently noted upon witnessing his lustful and often unsuccessful escapades.

My whole body cringed at his emergence and I whipped my head around at him, ponytail flying. "Actually," I hissed, glaring daggers, "I was on my way to see Lumina. You know, your girlfriend?"

At this, Rock chuckled and cast a presumptuous gaze on my chest. "She's not my girlfriend, babe. I don't do wine 'n' dine. Besides, that girl is a trick."

A trick? Did he even know what that meant? Surely he didn't if he was calling Lumina such a name. I was fuming at this and immediately began searching the deepest corners of my mind for the dirtiest, most scathing insult I could deliver to the dull-brained miscreant. When several moments of hateful glares at the moron for inspiration proved fruitless, I had to settle for a reprimand.

"Listen up, 'Pimp Daddy'," I began harshly, earning an alarmed stare from Rock, "Lumina is a dear friend of mine, and by far the classiest, nicest girl I know. She has principles and values, which you clearly lack." I spat out the last word.

Rock's initial alarm had quickly faded and been replaced with a lazy, uninterested expression, amber eyes wandering to places on my body where they shouldn't have been.

"You're making a big mistake by acting the way you are," I continued, though I saw he wasn't paying the least bit of attention. "You know how she feels about you, and I'm sure that if you grew up and stopped acting like a horny desperado, you could have a woman for the rest of your life!"

Rock seemed unfazed by the stinging rebuke that I had so blatantly dished out, just smacking his gum and still not averting his eyes from my body (not that there was much to see). He finally decided to look me in the face for the first time since the unwanted encounter had begun. "Luce, babe, you gotta chill out. I was joking. She knows I'm just playin'."

"Yeah, like hell she does!" I sputtered. "If you keep screwing with her emotions like this, you're going to lose the most precious thing you've ever had. Believe me, it's not worth it. She really loved you before you started acting like a deranged wigger, and she still does."

Rock shrugged, indifferent. I blew my bangs up in exasperation, recounting the sad fact that there was just no getting through to stupid people, and turned to retrieve my harp from the ground and trek the rest of the way to Lumina's place.

As I neared the villa, I had nearly forgotten about my little brush with Rock and happily trod the worn cobblestone path uphill, encouraged by the sound of the gurgling fountain and the promise of getting the hell away from everyone I knew, if only for a few hours.

Lumina and I had a lot more in common than met the eye, other than the fact that we were the same age. We were both aspiring musicians; she had been playing piano practically her whole life, receiving strict lessons from her grandmother since her formative years along with diligent practice, while I had taken up the harp more recently.

In the two years since my instrument was gifted to me, I had become proficient enough to play at wedding ceremonies and various events in neighboring towns, earning extra income and being able to sustain myself when the farm did not bring in enough money. It was not only my passion and outlet; it was my lifeline.

Aside from the musical aspect, Lumina and I had deceased parents. Her mother and father died in an accident when she was very young, leaving her in the care of her aging grandmother who was a tad delusional and didn't believe she was old enough to have a grandchild.

I had never known my mother, and my father was always reluctant to talk about her, only mentioning that she left for my own good. How a mother could leave her child for their wellbeing was beyond me, but most of the time I refrained from mentioning her, seeing as it made my father uneasy and distraught.

He passed away when I was fifteen, just after the long struggle to buy our home in the country, leaving me in the care of his old friend, Takakura, who came from the city to move to our disheveled little farm. I was seventeen now and nearly an adult, but Takakura and I had decided to stay together and work the land.

I stepped through the entrance gate, stumbling against the startling texture of the mural and almost falling onto my face. Cursing my clumsiness, I checked my footing before making my way through the yard, past the lavish fountain and meticulously planted flowerbeds that Sebastian, the butler, prided so much in. I knocked on the tall French doors of the manor, momentarily being greeted by Lumina and invited inside.

"Hey, Lucy," Lumina said as she shut the door behind me.

"Hi," I smiled, pulling the cross-strap of the harp case over my head and setting it down beside the grand piano. I hurriedly unzipped it and put the case aside, getting out the tuning wrench to quickly tweak the out-of-tune strings back to normal.

The harp itself wasn't much to look at: it had thirty-four strings and was made entirely of maple, having no colored varnish or fancy adornments to speak of. But the tone and volume were exceptional, especially in the acoustically pleasing environment of the mansion. I didn't care what others thought; in my opinion, it was the most beautiful piece of craftsmanship in the world because my father had saved up the money to have it built just for me in a faraway village and shipped across the sea, telling me that it was my mother's wish for me to do something beautiful and unusual.

"You know," Lumina said hesitantly after I was finished, "I can convince Romana to buy a concert harp for here. Just so you don't have to go to so much trouble with constantly switching the levers and carrying it here and whatnot . . ."

"Oh, that's not necessary. I couldn't ask you to do something like that for me; those concert harps are very expensive," I told her, taking a seat and balancing the harp on my shoulder. Resting my head against the soundboard, I played some chords and a few quick scales, filling the lofty, elegant lobby with pristine, echoing notes and sighing dreamily.

Lumina, however, sat and picked at her nails with a vengeance; she had seemed a little on edge and jittery since greeting me at the door, not seeming to be able to keep still and constantly performing one nervous behavior or another. This was not like her and, being her closest friend, I wanted to know what the matter was.

"Lumina?" I asked sheepishly.

She snapped her head up from chipping at her nail polish. "Yeah?" she replied, seeming a little hasty and irritated.

"Is . . . is there something wrong? You look sort of nervous and I was just wondering if something was up."

She froze, and I was worried for a moment that she'd gone into shock. I looked down at my feet and waited for her to say something to break the awkward silence, about to snap my fingers in front of her face to make sure she was alive, when she finally came to and spoke up.

"W-We got a note," she said monotonously.

This, obviously, left me wondering. A note? Did she have a secret stalker or maybe receive a death threat? Perhaps even an apology from Rock? Heh. Well, I guess that last one was too much to hope for. I couldn't imagine what could cause her to lose her usual composure and act this way; she was usually so prim and ladylike, not snappy and acting like a pissy little Chihuahua.

As if answering my thoughts, she continued shakily, "From a thief. A phantom. I didn't think it was serious at first, but I asked around and . . . he's real. I've heard horror stories. He apparently warns his victims ahead of time." Her face took on an unhealthy pallor and she swallowed loudly. "And he's coming tonight."

Tonight.

I found myself a little uneasy at first, but kept in mind that Lumina was prone to gullibility; maybe this was just a joke and people were trying to get a rise out of her by telling her these "horror stories". What was I supposed to say to her? I couldn't protect her, much less myself, from a criminal (if he did come) and the butler was no Chuck Norris; it wouldn't be expected of a fine man like Sebastian to burst out of the house turning roundhouse kicks and somersaults.

The nearest police were in Mineral Town and, like I said, wouldn't bother coming all the way to the valley for something as simple as a note. I thought it a bit irresponsible of them not to come check out a possible crime, but then again, the country police here fulfilled the lazy, beer-drinking hick stereotype. People usually didn't expect much from them.

In an attempt to console Lumina, I said the first thing that came to mind:

"I'll stay with you tonight." I thought she was being a little dramatic, but she was all I had and I didn't want to see her afraid.

Lumina gave a weak smile and seemed to calm down just a bit. "Alright. Thank you."

We decided not to practice that night, instead making feeble attempts at conversation. I didn't tell her about my little confrontation with Rock earlier that night so as not to distress her any further. She did bring him up, but I just told her that if he wasn't going to act like a decent man and cherish her and instead strut about town attempting to pick up girls, she shouldn't bother with an asshole like him at all. She giggled at my vulgarity and admonished me jokingly, still trying to stifle her laughter long after I made the remark.

It was approaching midnight, the time the thief had specified in his note. I got up to stretch my legs and get some fresh air to wake myself up, but, much to my annoyance, Lumina grappled my arm with a surprisingly strong grip as I made for the door.

"Lucy!" she whispered. "Don't you see what time it is? What if the thief snatches you up a-and . . .?"

"Relax, Lumina," I assured her. "It's only half past eleven. If he's so fashionably on time like all those ridiculous stories you've heard, I'm sure he'll be here exactly when he said." The stories she claimed to have heard about the thief did seem rather absurd, and I questioned myself as to why he would go to the trouble of sneaking in once before the hit to leave a note of forewarning.

"A-Are you sure?" she stuttered, clutching a hand to her mouth and biting her manicured nails.

"Yeah, yeah. Just calm down," I sighed, gently prying her hand from my arm.

After Lumina informed me of her plan to lock herself in the bathroom with a knife in preparation of the robbery and begged me to join her, I assured her that I would be fine; I always carried a trusty switchblade because I was "badass like that", as people who noted my weapon had said.

In actuality, I carried it around for practical reasons, not to look like a badass. I was really just paranoid that some imbecile like Rock would make unwanted advances, and Takakura had recommended that I carry some sort of protection if I absolutely needed to go out late. Fortunately, I never had to wield my weapon; Forget-Me-Not Valley was so peaceful that people were known to sleep with their doors unlocked.

I knew it was wrong to leave Lumina alone in the house like that, but I wasn't disposed to staying inside on a clear, starry night like this. If she wanted to hide, I wasn't going to stop her; she would probably be better off than me if a strange man was really going to show up. I just assumed from her retold stories that she was exaggerating and the "thief" was nothing more than a petty burglar.

Throwing caution to the wind, I went outside with my harp, finding a nice seat on the edge of the fountain and making myself comfortable; I planned on staying here until after midnight, when I could go back inside and tell the paranoid Lumina that the coast was clear.

My rear was a bit sore from work and did not agree with the hard stone seat, but I brushed it off with a slight wince and glanced at my watch. 11:51. I was then aware of my stomach twisting into a small knot and began to wonder if I really was putting my safety in jeopardy by not listening to my friend and sitting outside like a stubborn idiot. Maybe I would doze off and fall into the fountain and drown. Who knew?

Slightly delirious, I tried to shake the ridiculous thoughts away and plucked at my harp absentmindedly, eliciting a lulling effect that made me swoon lightly. Stupid. From then, I tried to avoid bringing the pathetic image of drowning in a fountain into reality and thought about what I could play that would take some concentration and wouldn't lull me to sleep.

I hope I don't get attacked by a raccoon, I randomly remarked to myself as my train of thought derailed amid the haze of drowsiness. Crazy bastards killed five of my chickens. Then one tried to kill me after I chased it with a shovel. Wait . . . oh, yeah.

A little Irish ditty that Gustafa, the local hippie, had taught me came to mind and my fingers drummed against the soundboard thoughtfully as I tried to recall how to play the cheery tune. Bits and pieces came back and I began hesitantly, a muddled mass of lethargic thoughts hindering my cognitive ability, but my subconscious seemed to push the correct notes and rhythms through to my fingers and I soon found myself gliding effortlessly through the piece. It was like riding a bike, except it didn't involve any falling or bleeding, which I quite liked. I giggled to myself at this thought and my calloused fingers continued to pluck happily, filling the picturesque yard with a beautiful air to harmonize with the moonlit scenery.

Just as I was finished, I heard a soft, masculine voice from behind, speaking in such a way that wouldn't startle me. "Beautiful," the mysterious man cooed.

I looked to my left to see a tall, slim figure saunter over from the opposite side of the fountain.

He had tried not to startle me, but his appearance certainly took care of that; the first thing I noticed was his shoulder-length silver hair, which was striking due to its unnatural color and could easily be spotted in the faint moonlight. His complexion was that of a girl's, which added to my astonishment, and his pale skin was an almost translucent shade of white. He sported somewhat snug-fitting black dress pants with what looked to be expensive designer shoes, his little ensemble topped off with a billowy leopard print blouse accompanied by a tight black undershirt.

My first impression was that he was a homosexual, or quite possibly a transvestite, but he spoke once more and proved my suspicion otherwise.

"Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?" he murmured gently, kneeling beside where I sat with my harp and looking up at me dolefully, batting his strange turquoise eyes. "Your beauty is simply too ethereal to be of this world. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name, fair maiden?" He made to take my hand, and I obliged, shocked and oddly entranced by this man's contrasting appearance and demeanor.

"Lucy," I said with a polite smile, a bit embarrassed at the roughness of my hand. It was nice to be treated like a lady, even if this, er. . . man, wasn't serious. "And who might you be?"

He bowed his head slightly, features hidden underneath his satiny bangs, chuckling quietly. "My dear Lucy, I am a prince of the stars, and you'll find that I'm quite the ladies' man."

At the "ladies' man" remark, I rolled my eyes and huffed a small sigh. Sure, he might have known it was every girl's dream to have a metrosexual (I assumed that's what he was) boyfriend to do their hair and be their "BFF", but he was beginning to give the impression of cockiness. I didn't like that. He seemed to notice that I had caught onto his pretense and attempted to right himself, getting off his knee and sitting beside me on the fountain, my hand still in his.

"Er. . . I apologize; that was a very poor choice of words. But I assure you that I have no ill intentions," he told me in his silvery voice. "It is just not every day that you see an angel descended from Heaven playing her harp just for you. And such a beauteous one, at that."

This loosened me up a bit, but I erred on the side of caution, wondering exactly what this man wanted.

"I don't even know who you are," I laughed, feeling silly that I was being flirted with by a stranger. "You haven't told me your name, you know."

The man gave an affable smile. "Oh, my apologies again. Allow me to introduce myself properly." He straightened up and cleared his throat delicately. "I am Phantom Skye. Perhaps you've heard tales of my roguery?"

"I don't think I've. . ." I trailed off, trying to see if there was anything I could recall.

"Roguery"? This left me wondering, until I recalled me and Lumina's conversations from not more than an hour ago. Among her panicked babbling about the anticipated "guest", she had mentioned something about a phantom. Phantom Skye. . . oh. Oh. My body went completely rigid when I realized that this man- this exotic, charming, genteel, elegant man- was, indeed, the Phantom Thief himself.

I drew back in fear, withdrawing my hand and readying it near my switchblade. This was probably all a part of his scheme, whatever it might have been, and for what seemed like forever I struggled to find words. "H-Have you stolen anything yet?" I finally stammered, trying to confirm the obvious.

He looked sorry to have scared me and regarded my sudden apprehension calmly, putting up a delicate hand in defense. "Do not be frightened, my lovely; my business at the mansion is done and I dare not harm an angel or steal her harp."

"Oh," I breathed, relaxing a little. "Well . . . what do you want, then?" I tried not to make the question seem rude, using the gentlest tone I could muster.

"I simply wanted to bask in your beauty, if only for tonight," the Phantom said. "But I will regretfully leave, if you wish."

He stood up, brushing himself off like a stereotypical metro man, and gazed at me wistfully, as if waiting for me to beg him not to go like most of the sniveling girls he probably met. But I decided to retain my dignity and had no intention of stopping him; it was probably best for him to leave.

"Lucy?" Lumina's tremulous voice cut through the silence, hidden behind the half-closed door that she had opened quite stealthily. "Are you alive? Is he gone?"

We both looked in the direction of the doors. I didn't know what to say, looking from the thief to the door and then back again, trying to make him take advantage of the opportunity and leave. Phantom Skye took my hint but didn't make any effort to run, instead smirking and looking amused; I assumed he wanted to get acquainted with more of the local ladies tonight and didn't mind revealing himself to my friend.

A little foolish, I thought, considering he had just burgled her home and it would be wiser to flee the scene of crime, but I just shrugged and gave Lumina the all-clear. "Um, yeah, everything's okay. You can come out now."

She tentatively emerged from the doorway, clutching a butcher knife in a small, shaky hand and looking rather perturbed. Her eyes flitted around frantically before they settled on us and widened in shock at the ostentatious spectacle of a man casually standing beside me.

"Hehe. Hello, beautiful," he said to the stupefied girl. "Cat got your tongue?"

Lumina continued to stare dumbly for a moment before breaking into a fit of uncontrollable giggles, dropping her weapon and cradling her childish face in her hands. I, needless to say, was shocked at her sudden change in behavior and stared just as dumbly as she had a few moments ago.

"Ooh, who are you, Mr. Smooth-talker?" she practically squealed, as if she had never received a compliment in her life.

The Phantom gave another chuckle and replied, "Why, I am the notorious Phantom Skye! It seems as though you ladies are quite ill-informed."

"Wait a minute." Lumina appeared deep in thought for a moment, seeming even more clueless than I had been. "You're the thief? You stole our stuff?" she fumed, taking a few bold steps forward, hands on her hips. "Do you know who I am? I could have your skinny little behind sent to prison!"

Skye acted fast and closed the few feet between them with a quick stride, lightly cradling her chin in a pale, lithe hand. Lumina appeared dumbfounded once again, mumbling empty threats until she trailed off, sighing blissfully and gazing at the man through half-lidded eyes.

"Don't let such raw anger steal away your beauty," he purred, lingering a moment and then sliding his hand away, fingertips teasing at her jawline. When it was clear that Lumina's anger was completely subdued, he began to back away slowly towards the fountain.

"Lucy," he whispered hurriedly as he passed, turning my attention away from the dribbling girl. "We will meet again; it's in the stars."

And with that, he drifted out of the yard, slipping away into the night.

Silent as a phantom.

Well? Was it too rushed? Too boring? Please review and leave your thoughts. I'd like to hear nice things from my few readers (if any), although constructive criticism is more than welcome. :)