Wow. :O I didn't expect to have so many positive reviews for my fanfic. XD To answer some of the questions- yes, I'm not kidding when I say this is my first fan fic, though I have been writing stories and such since I've been able to pick up a pen. So I do have a little writing experience, I suppose. - I have decided who Erica will end up with (not telling however, so you'll have to keep reading! XD), and I've also planned the next five or so chapters. I hope I don't run this story into the ground or the corner, or any other things which would mean that I've totally screwed it up... XD (Also, I'm sorry for the delay between chapters! I've been busy with school work, and my computer's been playing up as well...)

Harvest Moon and all its related characters belong to Marvelous Interactive, I don't own any of the original characters from the game in this story. :3 Please note that this chapter contains -mild- language.

Chapter 2- Macho Man and UMA Boy

I wasn't allowed to move to Mineral Town until after the winter had passed. What with Claire's wedding having taken place in early Fall, by the time she and my blue whale of a brother-in-law had returned from their exotic yet predictable honeymoon location, the leaves of the trees had already begun to litter the verdant grass with various hues of red and orange; tinged with crispy brown outlines which gave them the appearance of being literally drawn on the ground, the ancient, wooded artisans creating warm masterpieces below their naked boughs. The temperature had also declined somewhat- despite the fact that Mineral Town was south of the city which I was soon to be torn away from, it was considerably cooler than the area situated under the heat bubble generated by pollution. It took them a further two weeks to clear the farmhouse of all Claire's belongings, and transport them to the ship which was destined to carry it to their new home. I did contemplate how on Earth the ship was meant to tolerate the furniture, the extensive collection of cookery books and Gourmet without sinking, until I was informed that they would be journeying to the marital house on a seperate occasion. That was a real bummer, because I'd already selected my funeral outfit, and spent the last of my paycheck on a matching pair of shoes, rendering me bankrupt.

When my friends back home had heard about my sudden inheritance, there was a rainbow of reactions. Anger that I'd had such a responsability thrust upon me without my say. Fear that I would come to harm, living alone. Jealousy that I was going to have my own place. Sadness that I was leaving, and so forth, through the entire spectrum of emotions. The most abundant however, was shock. Me, Erica, a farmer? Everyone had convinced themselves that I was going to become a writer, or at least something concerning shoving words on pieces of paper and wowing the world with my 'talent'. Writing really wasn't the thing I enjoyed most, it was merely a necessity which I happened to be skilled at. Of course, the same could have been said for my passion, but I felt much more satisfied (and somewhat arrogant, admittedly) with my prowess at cooking than I did writing. It was the one thing I had over Claire- I didn't need books to teach me how to concoct a delicious batch of curried noodles or strawberry pavlova. It was also the reason why I hadn't gone to college- instead of moving out to study in a place far, far away from home, I had decided to take a job at one of the restaurants in the city and gradually work my way up. Even if I wasn't destined to become a renowned chef, so long as there was something I was better at than Claire, it made me happy.

Working at a restaurant meant that my farewell party was filled with delicious snacks and goodies, as well as the inevitable tears (not mine, however, I was more concerned about how quickly they'd managed to scout out my replacement). Of course, I would miss them, but over time, their faces would become blurred snapshots in my memory- insignificant and buried under a pile of everything else, just like those of the other children in my first grade class. They would be pondered on if need be, or if something else stirred them from their 'slumber'.

Eventually, Spring succeeded the (apparently) bitter winter, and also typical festivities of noodles, ricecakes and fireworks. Just like my sister had done three years previously, I packed my bags and caught the ship to Mineral Town. With thirty-thousand gold in my pocket which my parents had presented to me as a Christmas gift (I had also contributed to this sum somewhat, with my savings), I was uncharacteristically optimistic towards my new life as a farmer. Until, that was, we sailed under the rain cloud which was looming omniously above the town. Which rendered me absolutely soaking wet, so much that I felt that the water had percolated through my skin to my muscles and bones, and made them as soggy and miserable as the rest of me was.

A man named Zack was there to greet me, though I knew that this wasn't the truth- he had merely been walking out from the building beside the jetty when the ship had docked, and happened to be called over by the captain. He had been at the wedding too, though I couldn't remember seeing or interacting with him. Apparently, he knew who I was. Because he addressed me as 'Claire's sister'. It was better than being mistaken for her, I suppose.

Zack was kind enough to help me with my belongings, despite the torrent which the Heavens seemed so adamant to ruin my day with. He was engaging in conversation as we walked across the sodden sand, which decided to cling to the soles of my sneakers. There was no way I was going to arrive in town wearing rubber boots- I wanted to retain my image as a normal, ordinary city girl until I arrived at the farm and got stuck in. It was a tough job dragging case after case up the steps leading to Rose Square (I think Zack was regretting his offer to be gentlemanly and assist the newbie), and the rain made no effort to calm down.

"Hold on a sec," Zack said suddenly, as we trundled towards the path leading to the southern half of the main town. Setting down the luggage which he was carrying, the man began to jog in the opposite direction we were headed, abandoning me in the rain, with neither a clue of where exactly I was going, nor the manpower required to transport my clothes to the farmhouse. I let a loud, impatient sigh escape my lips. I hadn't noticed them before, but a gaggle of women shielded from the downpour with fashionable umbrellas were now staring at me, mentally ticking various judgement boxes in preparation to exchange opinions once I was out of earshot. Or not.

"Isn't that Claire's little sister?"

"She looks a lot like her, don't you think?"

"No, Claire was a lot more cheery!"

"Now that you mention it Manna..."

"She's definately different..."

"I'm always right about these things!"

"Hush now, she's looking our way!

"What should we do?"

"Turn away, turn away! Quickly!"

"Did you hear about..."

Obviously they assumed that I was hard of hearing, because there was no trace of guilt or remorse for their blatant vocal analysis of their newest neighbour-me. For one of the first times in my life, I felt uncomfortable with my decision to allow Claire to force her farm on me and let her get away with it. I pulled the wet hood of my jacket over my head some more, so that I stopped myself from sending them a harsh glare, and so that I blocked them out before I was consumed by the impulse to send a rude hand gesture their way. I thrust my hands in my pockets, gazing down at the ground, and the puddles rippling upon the surface as rain plummeted down.

After what had seen like an eternity, Zack returned, with another reluctant male in tow. I couldn't make out who he was, for he stood behind the taller, burlier specimen, and though he was dressed in impractical 'rain' clothes like I was, he was dry. For now.

"Claire..."

"It's Erica," I interrupted acidically.

"Right, sorry, Erica. This is Gray. He'll help you back to the farm."

Zack stepped aside to reveal Gray, otherwise known as Grumpy UMA Boy, almost as willing as he was to carry my bags for me. Sighing, I shook my head slightly, but subtly enough so that they wouldn't be able to tell.

"Hi there Gray. Thanks for helping me... Please, don't worry, it's not as heavy as it seems." I said politely, despite my mood.

No response. I glanced at Zack, who shrugged his shoulders. Gray on the other hand, remained stoic and voiceless. Aside from the grunt which accompanied him otherwise silently picking up the heftier of my luggage and wandering down the path in the direction of the farm. Somewhat irked by his lack of manners, and grateful that we were finally moving again, I thanked Zack and followed suit.

Gray did not talk for the entire duration of the journey. It was as if I had severely pissed him off, judging from his body language at least. But I wasn't the one who'd asked him to help me, that was Macho Man Zack's fault. In all honestly, I was pissed myself, what with the three crones (Shakespeare would be inspired by them if he were alive today) comparing me to the C-word. Claire. On the subject of Claire, upon reaching the farmhouse and fumbling with the key before I was finally able to let myself in, I wanted to throttle her as I took in the sight before me. The entire main room of the house was completely barren of furniture. No couch, no television, no bed- not even the marble kitchen she had bragged about in her letters.

"Oh yeah..." (Gray had a voice?) "Zack told me to tell you that Claire took everything. And the bathroom extension she was having built for her isn't finished yet. So you can't stay here."

"What about the animals?" I queried, struggling to keep my tone far from the anger and rage bubbling intensely within me.

"She sold them. There's nothing on the farm except the buildings."

Gray looked slightly taken aback as I lifted one of the suitcases from the wooden floor, and hurled it into the centre of the room, leaving a puddle where it had once rested. The case exploded upon impact, t-shirts, jeans and sweaters spilling everywhere. Along with a few bras, which had been packed at the bottom of that particular one. If he had been scared of me before, he was terrified of me now. He tried to hide his scarlet face beneath the peak of his cap, but the red tinge in his cheeks was hard to conceal behind the blue garment. My own face was far from its pallid city complexion either, yet Gray was afflicted more with the embarrassment than I was. I still had fury surging through my veins.

"Uh... Erica... I'll go take you to the Mayor. He'll probably be able to sort you something out... Come on... Let's go..."

He (gingerly) ushered me out, back into the rain. Wherever they were, probably stuffing their faces with five star quality food, Claire and Gourmet were laughing their heads off at my 'misfortune'. Misfortune, my ass.