The walk to the blacksmith shop was always a peaceful one for the blacksmith's apprentice. It allowed him to clear his thoughts in preparation for the inevitable verbal abuse he was sure to receive from his grandfather. Even though his training was challenging, it seemed minor at this point. He arrived at the threshold of the shop. He glanced to his left towards the direction of Claire's farm and debated with himself whether or not to pay her an unexpected visit. Logically, he knew she would be there at the current hour of the morning. The question was whether he would take advantage of that fact. Deciding against his fleeting thought since he was close to being late, he quickly opened the door and entered.
The heat greeted him, lightly dancing on his face. He sighed to himself. As Gray stripped off his winter coat and scarf, his grandfather looked up from what papers he was analyzing. "Morning, Gray," Saibara casually remarked, perusing some papers.
"Morning, Gramps." As quickly as Gray said those words, Saibara glanced at the boy. "I mean, sir," Gray quickly added, unconsciously holding his breath.
Saibara grunted and returned to his analysis of the papers in front of him. His apprentice released his breath as he set the furnace accordingly. His thoughts began to drift back to his fleeting thought, mainly of the woman at the center of it. He then cursed underneath his breath for almost burning himself, earning him an arched eye from his grandfather. It was definitely going to be a long distracting day for the blacksmith's apprentice.
He began his task for the day, occasionally getting instructions from his grandfather. It was a simple task for him, and that only encouraged his mind to wander once more to the blonde from the farm. Her piercing sapphire eyes flashed in his head along with her smile. Just thinking about her sent him smiling to himself yet at the same time invigorated him with determination. At least, that usually happened. Today, however, was somewhat different. It being the Winter Thanksgiving brought forth vividly the blonde to the forefront of his thoughts which seemed natural, but with that vividness came his concerns. He couldn't figure her out, not as if he had her figured out for starters.
Ever since the day Gray took Claire ice skating, the amount he saw of her was nonexistent. It wasn't for want of trying, but with his recent schedule of training underneath his grandfather, it was harder to find much time to visit her. And anytime he had tried, she never was on her farm. Even worse, she had suddenly stopped visiting the shop. For days it had bugged him now and then. He even wondered at one point whether he did or said something wrong. Once he had pushed those thoughts aside though, the overwhelming feeling of great annoyance slammed him. Why exactly was she being, well, her? "That damn woman," Gray muttered to himself, briefly pausing from his work. He then accidentally knocked over one of his tools.
"Did you say something, Gray?" Saibara remarked as he eyed him over his carelessness.
"It's nothing..." Gray picked up the fallen tool and sullenly continued his task.
The intricacies of her behaviour was bad enough. The ponderings of them specifically had been affecting his work from dropping tools or material to mistakes. But today there was another burden on his mind: would the impossible blonde come by? On this specific day? Was their relationship that advanced? ...Did they have some foundation for one?
All this rushed in his head like a speeding freight train out of control. Gray suspected his grandfather was already annoyed at him for the day which did not help matters. He continued with his sullen look as he started hammering on his project.
The early afternoon came quickly, and still no sign. As he fed the furnace more, a feminine fragrance danced around in the air till it slapped his nostrils. His mind jolted back more to his surroundings. Could it be? He quickly whirled around, ensuring steady poise. For a split second, he felt his heart nearly jump out of his chest. Unfortunately for him, it was not whom he had hoped to see. "Hi, Gray," the black-haired woman meekly greeted, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. The fog on her glasses started clearing.
"Oh. Hi, Mary," Gray mumbled still a bit deflated.
Saibara observed the two, looking back and forth at them, then grunted. "What can I do for you, Mary?"
At which point Gray decided to tune out the conversation. The arrival of Mary, instead, flung some of his concentration back to his original wonderings. This led him to flash back to a brief interaction he had with Mary recently.
Gray closed the door to the blacksmith's shop, entering the frigidness outside. He cursed underneath his breath on just how extraordinarily cold it really was and how fast he felt it, his face slowly losing some feeling. His attention suddenly fixated on the black-haired librarian walking. Just as soon as he noticed her, she noticed him and quickened her pace. Gray narrowed his eyes. She was the fourth woman he saw walk by the blacksmith that evening. He suspected that all of them came from Claire's farm. Why or to what extent eluded him, and it was starting to annoy him.
It was bad enough the blonde was seemingly avoiding him.
He called out to the librarian to which she hastened even more in her steps, trying her very best to avoid looking back at him. This really annoyed the young blacksmith, not to mention brought great confusion. Something was definitely up, and he determined to himself to find out exactly what it was or at the very least get an idea what it was. He jogged right up to her; and when she still refused to acknowledge him, he stepped in front of her causing the two of them to stop. "What the hell is going on, Mary?" Small talk was not on the table for Gray.
"I-I don't know w-what you're talking about..." Mary somewhat stuttered, bit taken back at his mannerism. She started fidgeting with the ends of her scarf.
Biting the insides of his cheek, he tried rephrasing the meaning of his inquiry in a more tactful manner. "Why were you at Claire's farm?"
"It's not for me to say."
Gray scrunched his face in confusion, "Why?"
"It really isn't for me to say," Mary reiterated as she stepped past Gray who still was in a state of bafflement.
"She's at her farm right now, isn't she," Gray more stated than asked.
Mary turned around to face him. "Perhaps. But, Gray, you have to ask yourself one question: do you want to be that person who storms and disturbs one's being? At dinner time?"
"What do you mean?" he hesitantly asked.
She gave him an all-knowing look as she tried to cross her arms over her chest, covered with winter gear. She quickly abandoned crossing her arms.
"Right..." he mumbled. Even though he saw it from Mary's point-of-view, he still was convinced visiting the blonde at that moment would be fruitful. How else would he get to the bottom of literally everything that was running through his mind? Despite that thought he decided that perhaps that evening was not ideal. For all he knew, Claire needed some space or something. And he certainly had no intention on being viewed as some sort of jerk as he suspected he would if he were to visit at that time. There had to be other times for him, though he doubted whether he himself would have that time in his busy schedule. He then realized how harsh he might have sounded earlier to the librarian. He shook his head away from his thoughts and continued, "Mary, I'm sorry. I never meant... I'm sorry..." The young blacksmith stuck his hands in his pockets unsure what else to say.
"It's okay. I understand," she meekly said. She turned around, but a thought pricked her mind. "Gray?"
"Yeah?"
"You have changed."
It was something which Gray had greatly experienced at one point in his life, that being change. It was nothing new for the blacksmith's apprentice. Moving to Mineral Town and the events which led to it were huge, both leaving its mark on him. It somewhat soured him often making him question why he was at that specific town for blacksmith training. There were other towns he knew of that offered the same. He could have easily left for any of them to get away from his grandfather's harsh training. But then that blonde had to arrive in town. He once thought he was doomed no matter what he did. Perhaps that was why he continued to live in Mineral Town. Yet on some small level he knew that was not so. The thought of changing again – perhaps to a point he had reached before and perhaps even beyond – perhaps everything did not suck.
It certainly did suck though that she did not step foot into the shop during the whole day. Gray muttered something incoherent to himself, earning his grandfather's attention. "Boy, is there something you want to say?" Saibara spoke.
"No," Gray snapped. He then accidentally knocked over a nearby piece, sending a clanging throughout the room. Cringing, he clenched his teeth.
"Using that brain of yours I see..."
Gray ignored his grandfather's snide remark as he muttered to himself yet again while picking up the item. He glanced at the time, hoping that it was close to calling it a day. Good, he thought to himself, glad that it was time. He stored the tools he had used throughout the day in their proper places, perfectly aware of his grandfather's watch. Once he grabbed his winter gear and weaved himself into it, he tipped his hat and nodded at his grandfather as a goodbye then exited the warmth.
"Absolutely no doubt..." Saibara mumbled to himself.
As the blacksmith's apprentice made his way down the steps to the blacksmith's shop, he glanced to his right towards the place he often thought about visiting after his long shifts. The thought of going back to his previous schedule of leaving his work at one in the afternoon had crossed his mind many times. It was tempting. It definitely would allow him to visit Claire, assuming she was even around on her farm. However, he wasn't willing to accept the tradeoff of less training when he wanted to push himself to become a better student of blacksmithing. Entertaining this thought never popped into his mind before until the blonde: she encouraged him to be better – to push himself and embrace his training – and even chided him when he complained a little too much. He sighed to himself as he stuck his hands into his pockets, bringing himself more to the present. Why was she always on his mind?
Of course, he knew deep down the answer to that question. Yet he allowed that answer to eat away at him, every day and nearly every hour. He viewed her in high regard even if she was a bit eccentric in her ways and tells. She became a guiding star in his life, one in which he was following willingly even if some times they butted heads. This beautiful shining star – pleasant to think about and to look.
That was it. He simply had enough. He liked her a lot and needed to tell her, first and foremost. But not only that he needed to know the lack of her presence. Not knowing what she was doing was driving him nuts. He missed her. He needed that conversation. Damn be the etiquette.
He arrived on the blonde's farm, determination building up as he progressed with his mission, then knocked on her door. The sudden realization of what he was doing began to crawl into his very essence him, settling within his mind refusing to leave. He gulped as his heart beat faster. He started to doubt whether this was a good idea.
But he heard no shuffling to the door. He heard nothing. He knocked again, somewhat calming down his state of mind.
Still nothing.
He furrowed his brow. Was she not home? But she had to be, right? It was dinner time, and he knew she had been home before around this time. He was about to give the front door another knock just to be sure when suddenly Claire's Australian Shepherd came trotting to Gray. Gray looked at the dog in a curious manner, wondering whether she would be the only dog he would see that night. In response, Akira tilted her head. "I'm going to guess she is not home then," he began.
Akira tilted her head in the other direction.
"Right. Talking to a dog..." he mumbled to himself. However, this was no ordinary dog, as the blonde loved reminding him. He inhaled, thinking why not, "Do you know where Claire is, Akira?"
Akira barked a quick bark then trotted to where Gray had arrived from, the northern exit of the farm. She sat at the exit and looked at the blacksmith.
Confusion was an understatement what Gray was feeling. Then again perhaps Akira was trying to convey a message, and he was just too stupid to comprehend it. He followed her, stepping on her paw prints on the snow. "What are you trying to say?"
Akira barked. She walked further north then back to him and sat in front of him, tilting her head. They both stared at each other with Gray blinking. On some level, he understood her at that moment. "So not on her farm. Is she in town?"
Akira barked twice.
Gray contemplated further, "Running errands?"
The Australian Shepherd barked then quickly laid down with her paws over her face. The blacksmith furrowed his brows in thought. "Sorry, girl," he squatted to her level and patted her. Akira pulled her head away from her paws. "I don't know what you are trying to say there. Though perhaps it is all for the best... Thanks all the same."
The temptation to stay until the blonde came was there even though he had no clue when she would return to her farm. He deemed it a step too far, desperate even. Desperation was true for him, but he did not want to project that. It would be his luck that he would do just that when the time came, thought that was pure speculation on his part. He sighed. Tiredness crept further on him, interrupting him and convincing him to leave the blonde's farm. He would have to catch her some other time, somehow. Akira barked as he left.
He tried, and nobody was able to say anything to the contrary. But was it even enough? Did he do enough?
He grilled himself with questions on the walk to the Inn, each time second guessing his decision and each time becoming sulkier. By the time he reached the inside of the Inn, his face reverted to his old grumpy scowl. He didn't care if there was a dark cloud following him, bringing the room down to his level. He cared for one person, but she was MIA.
Once Ann placed his food on the table, studying his face as she did, he slowly picked at his food. The food stared back at him as if it were mocking him and his cowardice. And that further pissed him off. When he finished, Ann took his plate away, again studying his face. This time Gray snapped, "What!?"
The ginger waitress contorted her face in annoyance, "I don't like your tone, Gray. Just for that, I'm not going to say what I was going to say. You're just going to have to find out for yourself." With that, she flipped her braided ponytail at his direction as she headed to the back kitchen. Gray rolled his eyes.
His attitude remained the same as he dragged himself to the second floor. He flung open the door to the room he shared, closing the door with some force and ignoring the chocolate haired guy lounging on his bed reading. Andrew peered over the top of the book and noticed the sulkiness surrounding the young blacksmith. "What got you all cranky?" he inquired as he set his book to the side. "Cause I wouldn't be carrying myself like that if I were you since you received the better quality... Talk about clear favouritism..."
Gray gave him an annoyed puzzled look, but then his eyes caught sight of two objects on his pillow. One appeared to be a note, and the other was a long, thin rectangular box in which helped dissipate his gloominess. She did not forget; and it had reached that level, at least in his thoughts.
"And she knows all too well it is my favourite, and that I haven't had any since I moved here – that I haven't been able to find it," Andrew yammered further.
Gray ignored his roommate, picking up the note to read. He read the beginning then stopped. "Uh, Andrew, I think she wanted me to read some of the note to you."
Andrew perked up as he straighten his back. Gray began: "First thing I want to start off by saying.. er, writing is this: tell my brother that I gave you the higher quality of chocolate since I knew he, being the gentleman that he is, would want you to experience the creamy, smooth, chocolatey experience that is this brand. It is good stuff which he knows, and I only was able to find one"
The blacksmith stopped, waiting for his friend's next words. "Well, now I feel bad for complaining. Though she could have at least told me that herself earlier..." Andrew leaned back and mumbled, "Fair enough, sis. I'll let it slide this time."
Gray smirked, chuckling somewhat to himself, and continued reading the rest of the note in his head:
He'll be fine. Now that that is cleared up, I'll get to, well, why I wrote this to begin with. First, I want to let you know that I'm not avoiding you... purposely – okay, maybe a little. But it's not entirely what you may think. Then again, I honestly don't know where I'm going with this; kind of lost my train of thought on that...
Anyways, just know I've been extremely busy. "But what could possibly be eating your time in Winter? And why now?" you may cry. Simple. The device – contraption – that I've been working on. I've been gaining a lot of headway on it which is always good, but mainly, I've been scouting around the border of Mineral Town for possible beacon locations. It would help triangulate... you know, I'll spare you the details on this. Main point for this: suuuuper busy.
I know we should talk sometime, like actually talk. I want to talk. Hell, I wanted to give you the chocolate myself in person. But since you are probably reading this, obviously, I probably did not find you at the Inn or elsewhere. I'll leave it at that. I just hope you are well.
The note itself placed a pretty big smile on the young blacksmith. It helped relieved some of his concerns, but then he noticed a particular detail. At the bottom along with the typical sign off, there was a crossed off "PS." He tried ignoring it but wondered whether there was more the blonde wanted to say – like a last minute thought, but then she abruptly decided to scrap it. Perhaps she wanted to say it in person. Or perhaps it was merely a fleeting thought and nothing significant. He mentally pushed those thoughts aside. It served no purpose to work oneself up on these matters, if anything he just learned told him. He set the note and chocolate bar on his nightstand delicately.
"My sister must have said something pretty amazing for you to be lit up like some Christmas tree." Andrew comment, noticing the changed demeanour of Gray.
Gray tipped his head, brushing off Andrew's comment.
"Do you like my sister, Gray?" Andrew bluntly added. The question shocked both men. "I mean, sooner or later you're going to have to answer that."
"I don't have to now."
"No, but if you did, you wouldn't have to later."
The young blacksmith said nothing as he slipped his hat off and placed it on his nightstand.
"Do you want to hear my theory?"
"I'm not stopping you," Gray responded sitting on his own bed.
"I think you initially wrestled with this, and at some point, it clicked – that you realize you do. Oh I'm sure you were in denial at times. Hell, I know that phase. But right now, I think you know where you stand. And to channel a bit of my sister and some fandoms – I can only conclude, based on my observations – cause let's face; you two have been fairly inseparable in the past till recently that is – that you indeed like my sister. I mean, the way you two have looked at each other, and I'm probably not the only person who has noticed that. Actually, I can say with confidence I know I'm not."
"And if I do?" Warmth crawled more onto Gray's face just at the mere thought of the blonde's sapphire eyes. To look into them once more.
"Tell her if you do. Don't go down the path I did. Don't make that mistake of holding off. I almost had to pay for mine." Andrew crawled out of his bed, leaving his book on his pillow, then opened the door ready to exit. "And on that note, I'm gonna check up on Ann. Claire's good for you, Gray. And I think you are good for her." He paused. "Don't tell Claire about this conversation. She definitely would kill me."
"What conversation?"
Andrew chuckled then left.
Gray settled more onto his bed. Perhaps it was no secret or an open secret. All he was able to think about was that blonde. That damn blonde – that impossible yet attractive blonde. He smiled like a schoolboy with a crush. Andrew was absolutely right about everything. His feelings for her – everything.
More than ever, he had to tell her.
Thought it prudent to dedicate this one to Gray.
As always, thank you, and if you have time, don't forget to provide some feedback. Reading them always warms my soul.
