A/N: And because I feel so bad about not updating for so long, and because I really like this story again, I'm going to give you a second chapter in the same day! :D Yay! I really hope you guys like it! Please review and tell me what you think!

Chapter 2 Habits

My eyes blink sleepily as a beam of sunshine hits my eyes through the portal window. I realize the captain of the small boat is shaking me awake, and I hear him telling me that we've docked at the city. I sit up straight in my bed as he informs me that my next boat is leaving shortly.

With that information, I jump to me feet, grabbing my suitcase from where it lies on the ground. I take some money out of my pocket and hand it to him, thanking him for the voyage. I slip a little extra money in with it, bribing him not to reveal my location to anyone at Mineral Town. A smug smile rests on my lips as I pay the man, as I'm using my uncle's money to pay him. Technically it's my money anyway, because he stole it from my parents.

I fly up the stairs, jumping off the dock and rushing off into the direction the boat Captain had pointed me to. My suitcase bounces on the dock as I run, and I have to raise a hand to steady my hat to make sure it doesn't get lifted off my head by the wind.

Hundreds of people crowd the docks, and I'm forced to push and shove my way through them as I make my way towards my boat to my new life. I keep my eyes sharp, keeping an eye out for any possible ghosts someone might be dragging along with them.

The wind eggs me on, nipping at my heels as I rush along, making me feel like the wind would catch me if I jump into the air right now. The sea is joyful as I speed along, jumping up on the dock to greet me. Here the sun shines kindly on my back, a refreshing change from the harsh glare of Mineral Town.

I manage to reach my ship right before it takes off. In desperation, I jump forward, only to be stopped by a man standing at the top of the plank that attaches the ship to the dock.

"You going on the boat?" He asks, his voice bored and lazy as a pen rests in his fingers, poised above a clipboard in his hands. I nod without saying a word.

The man looks up from the small clipboard. "Name?"

"Jill." I respond without missing a beat, giving him my dead mom's name. If I'm going to start a new life, I'm going to use a new name. Plus, it'll make it harder for anyone to track down Chelsea.

He scratches the name onto his board, and after I give him some money, he finally lets me step onto the boat. Immediately, I make my way to the cabin the man assigned me to.

Beneath the deck, I find my cabin and yank to door open, plopping myself and my suitcase down on the bed. My eyes close and a funny half-laugh bubbles our of my lips. I've actually done it. I've actually escaped.

The grin on my face fades, as I suddenly think of how Cliff will feel when he wakes up this morning and finds me gone. He's going to go crazy.

Frowning slightly, I sit up in my bed, glancing around the room. The bed is a nice single with soft pink flowers covering the blankets. The walls are light beige, and the floor is covered in a rug that's only a single shade darker. There's a wooden desk in the corner and a small television set up on top of a table.

My thoughts turn back to Cliff, the frown on my face deepening. "One drink won't hurt." I mutter to myself, leaving my unopened suitcase on the bed before beginning my search of the ship for a bar. Every ship has a bar. It was to be somewhere.

After a ten minute fruitless search, I happen across a sailor who points me in the right direction. I pull my hat tighter over my eyes, thanking him before making my way over to the bar. I haven't seen a single ghost since leaving, and that's rather cheery.

Upon entering the bar, I instantly feel tons better, exhilarated to see a sign that shows that they allow smoking in this room. I sit myself down on a stool on the far edge, not noticing a man sitting right next to it.

The bartender comes over from another customer, looking a bit down in the dumps, and I feel a surge of pity shoot through me. "What can I get you?" He asks politely, reaching for a beer mug underneath the bar.

I smile at him softly; I can tell he's a good man. Something about being able to see dead people gives me an insight into the living. And judging by the tan of a ring on his finger, where no ring lies, I would imagine he's just been through a messy divorce. "May I have a scotch please?"

The bartender nods and walks off, even as a gruff voice speaks up beside me. "You sure you can handle that?"

I twist on my stool, ready to glare at whoever shot the rude comment at me, only to be stunned into silence.

The man beside me wears a black Stenson, almost identical to the hat that rests upon my very head. Glancing down, I notice his boots aren't all that different from mine either, black and made of leather. However, compared to me, he looks a lot more like a cowboy, with a black button up shirt, covered by a brown vest, and a genuine lasso at his hips.

But it's not the man's outfit that shocks me into silence. It's the woman standing behind him. Well… the ghost of the woman standing behind him. She looks at me silently, and I know she knows I can see her. She glances at the cowboy, and I instantly know that the ghost is the cowboy's mother.

I look back to the cowboy's face. His eyes are a brilliant colour of amethyst, and I feel a shiver shoot through my spine staring at them. His face is contorted with coldness, devoid of warm emotions. His hair is mesmerizing, the colour of the richest silver.

I glance back at the ghost of the woman. Ghosts don't have colour; so I couldn't compare eye colour between the two or anything. In all actuality, ghosts have a sort of bluish tinge to their appearance. However, I'm more and more sure that this ghost is his mother as I notice the similarities in their facial structure.

My eyes turn back to the cowboy, and as I eye his glass of wine, I remember his comment. "You're drinking a glass of wine. I'm the one who should me asking if you can handle that."

His eyes narrow, his face etched with irritation. "I like wine."

I snort, something about this guy rubbing me the wrong way. "So do I, but it just doesn't cut it for me."

The bartender, who's watching the two of us cautiously, puts my glass of scotch in front of me. I take one look at the pathetically small size of the drink, swallow it down in one gulp, and slam it back down on the table like they do in those movies. The bartender looks at the empty glass for a moment, but I wave my hand, telling him I don't need another. He lets out a sigh of relief, walking over to the opposite end of the bar.

I let out a deep breath as I feel the alcohol run down to my stomach. Cliff will be fine. He knows I've wanted to leave Mineral Town for the longest time. He'll be happy for me.

I twist my head to look at the cowboy with raised eyebrows, sending him a dirty look. He doesn't hesitate to return to hostility. Rolling my eyes, I reach into my pockets to pull out my cigarettes and my lighter.

"What's a city girl like you doing out here?" He questions, narrowing his eyes at me. I know he can tell we're both from the country, but he asks away.

"I ain't no city girl." I retort, ice dripping from my words, his question making my bad grammar come out. I light up a cigarette, raising it to my lips to resist the urge to yell at the ghost of his mom for raising such a rude child.

"Sure ya aren't." He replies back in a voice just as cold as he mimics my bad grammar. "That's why your hair is died that awful black, right?"

I let out a puff of smoke, refusing to let his comment bother me. Is it really that easy to tell that it's died though? My hair used to be a nice, cool brown colour, but I died it when I decided to change my name.

"Why do you care?" I shoot back at him, letting out another puff of smoke, the nicotine from the cigarette helping me calm myself down.

"Why do you care enough to change it?" He retorts, his amethyst eyes cold as ice. I glance at him, my eyes drifting over to the sad gaze on his mother's face. Do people get annoyed with me like this?

"None of your damn business." I snap at him, resolving to leave once I'm done my cigarette. I don't care if he has a ghost following him; I'm not helping her, and I'm not going to keep talking to him.

My eyes happen to catch a look on his face out of the corner of my eyes. He sips at his wine with an amused expression touching his lips and eyes.

Even though I can't help but think he looks a little attractive when he's smiling, I turn to snap at him. "You think something's funny?" His smirk vanishes, and he watches his cup expressionlessly.

"That's what I thought." I hiss at him, knowing I'm being mean, but too annoyed to particularly care. He turns back to his drink, and I glance back at the ghost, tilting my head slightly.

Can you help me?

I hear her soft voice, though I know that no one around can. I lift my cigarette to my lips again, trying to ignore the ghost. Although, I've found that once a ghost asks me for help, I can't say no.

Please?

I sigh, sticking my cigarette into the ashtray on the counter. The bartender informs me that we'll be arriving at the island soon, and I tip my hat at him, dropping a couple dollars into an empty glass jar of tips. He looks at me gratefully, and I shoot him a supportive smile, hoping that he somehow gets through his divorce.

I may not like people very much, but I have very much sympathy for those who've had hard times.

I start walking back to my cabin, knowing that the cowboy's ghost is following me. Letting out a deep sigh, I resign myself to the inevitable once I turn into an empty corridor. "What do you need help with?"

My son. The ghost's voice floats to my ears as I walk up to my cabin, heading inside to collect my belongings. A robber killed me a couple years ago in our house. He found me dead on the floor, and he hasn't been able to find peace since. I'm fine now, but I can't leave without knowing my son will be okay.

I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose, adopting Cliff's habit. Tired, I drag out another cigarette, lighting it up and bringing it to my lips, not caring that I'm not supposed to smoke inside the cabin.

I pick up my suitcase, inhaling the cigarette again. "Your son is an ass."

Please? I turn to look at the ghost, her face full of sorrow and concern. You're the only one that can help me.

I sigh softly, inhaling another drag of my cigarette. "Alright. I'll try. Helping people move on is a lot more difficult than it sounds, so I can't tell you how long it can take. Some people take longer than others."

I've traveled back and forth between a couple villages, mostly Forget-Me-Not Valley and Zephyr Town to help different ghosts move on. I've found that avenging deaths are the easiest, and revealing the truth behind deaths can be the trickiest. But helping living people move on can range from easy to difficult depending on the person. And I have a feeling this cowboy will be much, much more difficult.

Thank you. The ghost heaves a sigh of relief, and walks with me back up to the main deck before vanishing. Dragging my suitcase behind me, I walk over to the railing. I lean my arms on the railing, closing my eyes and letting the wind blow in my face, ruffling my clothes without throwing my hat off of my head.

Suddenly, I feel a presence beside me. I glance to my side, and nearly grown out loud when I realize it's the cowboy and his ghost. He appears unconcerned that I'm standing here. I bring my cigarette up to my lips again, letting a puff of smoke float away from the boat. Does he live on the Island that I'm moving to? While that would make it more convenient for me to help his ghost, I don't really want to be neighbors with this guy.

I glance at his face, marveling at his amethyst eyes. There's something captivating about them, something almost familiar. Maybe I'm just being silly. How could a guy with amethyst eyes be familiar? But when he glances to the side, leaning against the rail and looking into the wind, I realize why there's something familiar in his eyes.

It's because I see that same haunted look whenever I look in the mirror.

We dock at the small island that came into view as I was staring at the cowboy. There are a few people waiting on the dock as we slowly float up. I swallow hard, finding it hard to hate the cowboy after seeing that look in his eyes. Maybe it won't be such a bad thing to help him move on.

The cowboy gets off the boat first, his ghost following him and passing through all the other people. One of the girls on the dock tries to greet him, but he just brushes her off. I raise an eyebrow, chuckling to myself. Now that I don't absolutely hate him, I'm finding his coldness to be rather amusing. It reminds me a little of my cryptic smiling and laughing.

I take one last drag of my cigarette before flicking it into the trash. I'm the only other passenger that gets off the boat. I know that this island isn't very populated, but I heard about the unused farm on the island a couple months ago from a newspaper ad. I'd telephoned as soon as I saw the ad, and I got the farm.

After taking in a deep breath, I walk towards the people on the dock. The first girl I turn my eyes on has baby blue eyes, and her blonde hair is tied in a lose ponytail, with two strands framing her delicate face. I'm remotely surprised by the innocence apparent in her face when I glance down to see she's wearing daisy-duke shorts paired with a light blue open shirt and tall, white boots.

She doesn't have any ghosts around her, so that's a good thing.

"You were stuck on the same boat as Vaughn? Wow, I feel bad for you." She giggles, a smile on her face.

Vaughn, eh? So that's the cowboy's name. At least I know what to address him as next time I run into him. I chuckle at the thought of how much it'll surprise him that I know his name.

The girl seems to examine me closer. "Wow. You have the same hat he does, and the same boots. Do you guys know each other or something?" Then the girl laughs, like her own idea is ridiculous. I raise an eyebrow, feeling terribly uncomfortable; she seems rather ditzy to me, and that's not attractive in the slightest.

"Oh, excuse me." She giggles, raising her hand to her mouth. "I'm Julia, and I live her with my mother Mirabelle. Vaughn is my cousin. He comes every Monday and Tuesday. You got rotten luck to come here on a Monday. He also has a brother, who should be coming here to visit sometime in the next month."

I look at her disbelievingly. The cold amethyst-eyed cowboy is related to this blue-eyed, blonde ditz? The world is a strange, strange place.

"What's your name?" She asks me gently, the same smile on her lips.

"Jill." I reply instantly. I'll never tell anyone my real name ever again; I don't want to be connected with it. I don't want my past to be connected with me ever again. I want to start over. I want to help ghosts with my ability. And I want to be happy without the guilt, or the hate.

"That's a pretty name." Julia smiles at me.

Two more people take a few steps forward. The woman speaks first. "You must be here to take care of the new farm."

I nod happily, smiling softly. She has cotton candy hair that's tied up in a braid. Her small bright ruby red lips smile up at me in kindness. The lady also wears a yellow apron over a brown dress with pink decorations.

Then the man speaks up. "Good. We need someone to take care of that old place."

He's bald, though his bushy white eyebrows and matching mustache make up for the lack of hair on his head. The old man is dressed like a farmer, with blue overalls and a red ascot. He also wears white socks and sandals. In a white-gloved hand he clutches a gnarled wooden walking stick. His professional farmer appearance makes me hug my precious leather jacket closer to my body in self-consciousness.

"You can meet people later. I'm taking you to your farm." With that, the old man whacks me on the leg with his stick.

"Ow." I roll my eyes, my voice dripping with sarcasm, even as a moment after I've spoken, my leg starts to throb from the whack.

"Move faster!" The old man orders me, and I start to march off the dock, my boots clicking against the wood. In front of me, the old man seems to totter as he walks, most likely because of his old age. Which is more than obvious from simply glancing at his appearance.

"Father!" The woman exclaims, looking at the old man with a look of clear disappointment. "You're being rude to our new neighbor."

"Yeah, stop being so mean Taro." Julia chips in, hastily approaching our trio. Those boots she wears certainly don't help her run faster.

The old man, Taro, lets out a feeble sigh, admitting defeat to the two women. "Fine, fine. Go gather the villagers at the farm you two."

The pair nods instantly, the two of them running off in opposite directions at his words. I watch the two of them disappear, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable being alone with this old man. I glance at him, but there are no ghosts around him. He just seems like a grumpy old man.

So far I don't have much of a good impression of the island. The people I've met so far are bizarre, but hopefully I'll be able to isolate myself on my farm. Maybe get a couple animals and spend all my time with them.

But as I Taro and I walk up the beach and into what I'm assuming is the main part of the Island, I can't help but admire how beautiful the scenery is.

"This island, where most of our villagers' houses are, is called Verdure Island." He then points to our left with his walking stick as we pause in the centre of a dirt road. "Down there, the bridge leads to an adjoining island called Sprout Island. More of the villagers live there."

Then Taro whirls his stick around, pointing it back down to the beach. "There's usually a small boat down by the dock. A man named Kirk runs it and he can take you to another small island near here called Meadow Island. That's where we have most of our festivals."

He taps my back with his waking stick, forcing me to turn around to face him instead of the beach. "Altogether, the Islands are called Sunshine Islands, but we're made up of a couple surrounding Islands." He tilts his head slightly at me. "You got that?"

I nod at him and he nods back in satisfaction as I pull my Stenson over my eyes. "Onward then."

Quickly I take a couple steps forward, moving into a walk before he can hit me with his gnarled cane again. Soon, we come across a bridge, and a small smile tweaks at my lips when I notice it's nice and solid as I rest my hands on the railing. As we cross over, Taro starts talking again. "Across here is another island, called Ranch Island. Basically, it's just a ranch on a small island. This is where your ranch is. Got it?"

I nod my head again, gazing out at the water flowing underneath our feet as we cross from one Island to the next. Looking up, I almost wail out in despair.

I've never seen a farm in this bad of a condition. I'm getting depressed just looking around. There's no barn, no chicken coop, and the small stable looks like it'll fall over if the wind blows too hard in the wrong direction. The house looks like it's in as bad condition as the house. If I flick a cigarette in any wrong place, the whole thing might go up in flames.

A glance at the field shows the same depressing results. Weeds, boulders, tree stumps, rocks and branches litter the whole plane. The only upside is that the field takes up the majority of the space of the island, so I'd be able to plant lots of crops. But the overall evaluation of the farm's condition makes me want to sit down and cry.

"Well, it needs a little elbow grease, but you'll have it up and running soon, I'm sure." Taro shoots me a sympathetic glance, and I can tell by his expression that he realizes how bad the condition of the farm is. I take in a deep breath, glancing around again. I've never minded hard labor before; maybe this'll be just the thing I need.

The old man pats me on the back with his walking stick before he takes a couple steps forward, leaving me standing there staring out at the farm as I realize one important fact. In order to even begin clearing out this farm, I'm going to need some tools. And I didn't bring any.

Even as I'm mentally calculating how much money it'll cost to buy some new tools, Taro speaks up. "I've done the liberty of cleaning up all my old farm tools and putting them inside a toolbox in your house. You're free to use them, they're yours now. So you can get started whenever you want."

I sigh gratefully, thankful for the provided tools. Taro escorts me inside the small house and lets me look around at where I'll be living from now on.

Sure enough, there's a toolbox right next to the door. A quick look inside brings a smile to my face as I look over the hoe, sickle, watering can, axe and hammer inside. It'll be so much easier to get started on fixing this farm up with all these tools.

I walk over to the small, creaky bed, heaving my suitcase up onto the plain sheets. I'll unpack everything later, but I take out my rucksack and throw it over my shoulder, planning on getting started as soon as possible.

There's a knock on the door, and I turn, a little surprised before I remember that Taro had asked those two women to go get the rest of the villagers. We walk out of the house, and my eyes widen when I see the mass amount of people standing there. Crap.

"Good job you two." Taro smiles at Julia and the woman with pink hair.

The old man whacks me with his walking stick again, and I grumble under my breath. I really don't like mingling with people. It's not my style. I'm much more of a loner, and I come off as kooky to most people; for good reason.

First we approach two Asian men. I can tell by their age difference and face similarities that they're father and son. Both of them are dressed in official looking uniforms with brown bandannas wrapped around their heads. They both have black hair and brown eyes. The man has a black beard.

The kid speaks up, proudly trying to imitate the stance of his father. "Hey lady." Then he flashes me a smile.

I give him a soft smile. I'm okay with children. Most children are truly innocent, and don't turn into vulgar people until they get older. Thankfully, neither of these people have ghosts hanging around them. But, generally ghosts inhabit places rather than following people. Ever since running into the cowboy though, I've been checking everyone on this island for ghosts.

Taro speaks up. "Chen and Charlie run the shop on Verdure Island. They can sell you crop seeds, so it's important you go to see them as soon as you can." I have no idea which one is Charlie and which one is Chen. Taro doesn't specify.

We take a step to the woman standing next to them. She's a rather large woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. There's a small mole by her mouth, and she smiles at me happily. She wears a large blue apron over an orange shirt, along with sensible shoes for walking and a red necklace.

"I'm Mirabelle, Julia's mother." The lady smiles kindly at me, even as I come to the same conclusion. "I run the Animal Shop on Verdure Island, so you'd best be sure to stop by once you have a barn or a coop built."

I nod, giving her a small smile, trying to be at least a little polite to these people. I'd rather not have the whole town hating my guts like Mineral Town. I can't promise that I'll talk with all these people on a regular basis, or even at all, but I think I can manage a small smile. So far, no one here seems particularly menacing or evil.

Right next to Mirabelle is her daughter, Julia. Right beside her is a pink haired boy that keeps glancing at Julia like she's the sun and he's a blind man seeing for the first time.

"This is Elliot." Taro tells me as he as we step over to meet him. "He's my grandson." I can certainly tell that he's his mother's son. He has her cotton candy hair, and it falls in a mess over his face. He wears light blue jeans rolled up at the bottom, and a dark blue shirt with suspenders. There's also a green apron tied around his waist, and huge glasses cover his face. He's pretty dorky looking, but I'm not exactly queen of the fashion police either.

The kid sticks his hand out, and I notice that he's taller than me, and probably older too. "Nice to meet you."

I nod, refusing to shake his hand until he awkwardly withdraws it. Personal rule: no physical contact. My whole body is like a magnet for the supernatural, and physical contact with any person opens up some sort of mental channel that allows me to sense anything that person might have done to harm another human being.

I pull my hat closer over my eyes, the awkwardness of the whole situation infecting my stomach, making it queasy and causing my palms to get sweaty.

Besides, if I did socialize with these people, there's a good chance they would want to become friends with me. And that would certainly lead to the obligatory friend hug. Physical contact. No thank you. When I was little, my uncle had given me a hug before I went to sleep, and I almost threw up on his shoes. Cliff is the only person I can stand to touch in any way; he's such a kind person, he's never done anything to hurt anyone.

There's a girl standing on Elliot's right with the same candy coloured hair. She's chatting gaily away with a very short man dressed in the same outfit as the Gourmet from Mineral Town.

"This is my granddaughter Natalie, and Pierre, our very own Gourmet." Taro informs me as we walk away from Elliot, leaving him to stare at Julia in worship. I don't understand how he can like a ditzy girl like that.

The man perks up first. He's short, but I can tell he's at least a year or two older than I am. "I'm Pierre, and I'm a chef." As if I couldn't tell from the introduction Taro gave him. "If you ever come across any kind of tasty ingredients, please let me now! I'm making some curry later if you want to come by."

I nod my head, not planning in the slightest to go to this man-child's house for curry of all things. Life lesson: stay away from midgets obsessed with food. Dressed in a purple gourmet outfit or not. Besides, I don't like people who talk to me like I'm stupid.

The girl nods her head at me. She wears a simple green apron with a yellow shirt and blue leggings underneath. Her boots are simple, more for comfort and durability than fashion. There's also a red bandana wrapped around her head, and her eyes are a nice chocolate brown like her brothers.

"My family does the shipping, so we'll be selling everything you ship for you." She says softly, all business. I smile softly at her, nodding my head in understanding. Natalie seems sweet; maybe I'll be able to get along with her.

Taro pushes me along to the next person and my eyes widen in shock at the build on this man. He has a couple gray hairs on the side of his head, but I have the feeling that he looks older than he really is. But he's certainly an intimidating man. His entire body is ripped with muscle, and he's slightly hunched over. A few teeth are missing from his mouth, giving him a toothy grin usually found in a child. He looks like he might have killed someone in his past, but I sense nothing malevolent about him, and there are no ghosts around.

He growls his words at me. "Name's Gannon. I do carpentering. Ask if you need any construction, new tools, wallpaper or flooring. For a certain price, I'll do almost anything."

I nod at the giant of a man. I'm not sure what his prices are, but I'll check them out sometime. I'm pretty good with my hands, so I might make some repairs myself, but I don't think I'll be able to build an entire chicken coop or a barn by myself.

"You're quite pretty. Not as pretty as me of course. You can come down to my house, and I'll give you beauty tips." A soft, childish voice catches my attention.

My head snaps down, and I instantly glare at the little girl that spoke the rude comment. She has bouncing blonde curls and aquamarine eyes. The little girl wears a frilly floral dress adorned in yellows, oranges and reds. There's also a red bow sitting on the top of her head.

"Gannon's daughter, Eliza." Taro mutters, and I chuckle softly at his tone. It doesn't appear like he has a very high opinion of her either. I'm starting to like him more and more as he moves right along to the next group of people.

The next man reminds me of a vampire, and I warily take a step backwards as I glance around for ghosts. No spirits, but I catch a self-absorbed vibe from this guy.

He has dark hair, dark eyes, sharp eyebrows and a dark mustache. He also has really pale white skin, and he's dressed like he's stuck back in the eighteenth century. There's a giant ruby ring on his gloved hand.

"Regis, President of the Mining Company. If you ever find of good gems, please come show me." Then he bows slightly and shoots me a toothy grin that reminds me of a wolf.

A girl beside him speaks up softly. "I'm Sabrina, Regis' daughter. I really like gems too."

This girl appears to be very shy by the way she starts blushing when I turn to look at her. She wears a purple dress with a pink sweater wrapped around her arms. Her hair is a sleek black and is held up by a big pink bow. Sabrina also wears round glasses that frame her deep purple eyes.

Purple eyes. Well, speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Right at the end of the line of people, a couple paces away from the crowd, stands the cowboy.

Taro and I walk over to him. "This is Vaughn, but I assume you've already met. He's the animal trader for the island, and he's here every Monday and Tuesday."

Vaughn grunts in acknowledgement, and Taro walks over to his daughter since we've reached the end of the line. I give Vaughn a curious glance. "Animals?"

"You like animals?" He turns his eyes sharply on me, the ghost of his mother floating beside him as we talk.

I'm a little surprised he doesn't say anything snappy or rude, so I answer honestly, finding it in my best interest in the course of helping his ghost. "Actually, I love animals." Then I lower my voice a bit, so no one else would overhear my next words. "They're much easier to deal with than people are."

A look of understanding and genuine surprise flashes across his face as he mutters back. "Ain't that the truth…"

Then Taro yells out to everyone gathered on my farm. "Alright everyone! Now that you've all met Jill, we best leave her to start working on her farm."

With that declaration, everyone leaves with some sort of goodbye or wish of good luck. I dip my hat slightly at everyone, and I'm vaguely amused when Vaughn and I dip our hats at each other.

Letting out a deep breath of relief now that the whole introduction ordeal is over, I slip out a cigarette and light it up, inhaling and letting out a puff of smoke. Suddenly, footsteps catch my attention.

A little miffed, I turn around, my cigarette between my fingers. Two people walk up to me, one male and one female.

"Sorry we're late. We were fishing; didn't get the memo." The man chuckles, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment, his brown eyes dancing. I'm a little surprised, as his dark skin and purple fisherman outfit reminds me of Kai from Mineral Town. I hope they're not related. That could be bad.

"I'm Denny by the way. I'm the local fisherman here. You ever need fishing tips or anything, you give me a call." He grins at me, bouncing up and down on his heels, his curly brown hair and shark tooth necklace bouncing as he gazes at the girl beside him.

She has really long glossy blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes. She's dressed in a beautiful green dress and a matching headband.

"I'm Lanna." She introduces herself cheerily. "I'm a former music idol, and I'm taking a break from my hectic life on this little island. I love to fish too. Maybe you could come with me sometime." Her voice is sweet, but underneath that I can tell she doesn't like me one bit. I narrow my eyes at her slightly. Well, news flash for you girly; I don't like you much either.

I take another drag of my cigarette, and the two of them leave my farm, walking away hand in hand. Letting out a deep breath, I turn around to face my ugly farm, the islanders on my mind as I let out another puff of smoke. They seem nice enough, but they're all whacky. I'll probably keep my distance from a majority of them, and I will not go around sleeping with all the girls in this town. Natalie seems nice enough, but none of the other girls on this island interest me.

Besides, maybe it's a good thing that I forget about love and simply focus on my job and myself.

A smile twists my lips upwards as I take another drag of my cigarette, walking into my house to grab my new axe and get to work.