I thought, that if I gave myself time to just not have any expectations for myself, that the burnout would go away. That someday, I'd be able to wake up feeling like I did when I was 14 and just be able to fly to my keyboard and smash out my next masterpiece (as if I was making any of those at 14, haha). I've come to realize, though, that that feeling will never come back to life on its own.

So starting today, I'm a necromancer!

All I Never Wanted, Part 2

Fall 1st

If he had know that brief moment of silence would've been the only reprieve he would get for the next week, he would have savored every nanosecond of it. But with no ability to change the past or peek into the future, Jamie is forced to live in the bleak, irritating present. And presently, he was being harassed by what was no doubt yet another do-gooder in Flower Bud whose idea of "helping" an injured person was to pester them with questions, crockery full of food he certainly didn't ask for, and possibly another round of questions. Lucky him.

He shifts a now barking Calvervtutrp from his lap and stiffly makes his way to the door. Upon opening it, he is greeted with the smell of oil and a familiar blur of orange and brown.

"Hey! Uhhh... hey," the girl finishes lamely.

"Ann," he says, hoping that his facial expression would do most of the talking for him.

There is an almost painful beat of silence.

"Look, I know you're not much of a people person. I get that. But well, everyone was talking and I know you're gonna hate it, but we wanna help out. On your farm, I mean."

She has that same hopeful look in her eyes that Tina wore less than 24 hours ago, which makes it all the easier to slam the door in her face. She doesn't knock again. He didn't expect her to, but for some unplaceable reason there's an odd, almost empty feeling in his gut.

'Tina would've knocked again,' says some traitorous corner of his brain, and he makes a very conscious decision to not think about why that makes him so angry.

He hopes that pushing his way through work will improve his mood- it always has in the past, at least, and the faster he can put yesterday's events behind him, the better. The sun climbs higher into the sky as he makes his way through his usual routine, albeit much slower than usual. Dusk begins to fall before he knows it. His mood has mellowed, although he does feel a sting at his pride when he realizes he won't be able to finish this season's planting until tomorrow. The end of his day carries on in relative silence. He cooks dinner, cleans the dishes, changes the bandages on his feet. Injuries aside, he tries to give himself some credit for getting through the day without collapsing. It wasn't his usual idea of productivity, but it should count for something.

It should count for something, but the empty feeling in his gut from that morning never quite went away.

Fall 2nd

Tina awoke that morning with a renewed sense of purpose. She'd spent the previous day warring with herself; her grief, her wounded pride that had been rubbed raw by Jamie's harsh words, all of it tugged her back and forth until long after she laid her head down and tried to sleep. Quite honestly, she wasn't sure how to feel.

On the one hand, she felt as though she didn't want to do anything else but lie in bed and wallow in her own grief. True to her word, Ellen had arranged a humble burial in the little chick's honor, and marked a spot near the river where some wildflowers grew with a makeshift headstone. She'd held Tina close then, and told her not to blame herself; that every farmer stumbled at least a little bit at the start. Tina asked her then if she had ever been responsible for something like this, to which Ellen very sweetly and very awkwardly changed the subject. Maybe Jamie was right. Maybe Tina wasn't meant for being a farmer after all. If she was already making mistakes like this, who was to say things couldn't get worse? Not every mistake was a growing experience. Sometimes people just... failed. There was a difference between plain giving up and knowing when it was wise to quit. So how was she to know what this was?

On the other hand, she felt angry. Who was Jamie to judge her? Just because he was so effortlessly perfect didn't mean he had the right to expect it from others! And making a mistake, even a big one, did not mean she didn't care. Accidents were called accidents for a reason. They never happen when they're expected to, and that's the whole point of the matter. Okay, she had been reckless. She'd give him that. He wasn't wrong in pointing out that she'd been negligent. But if he wanted to be a good rival like he was always ranting about, he should've been encouraging her to improve herself, not berating and discouraging her.

She cycles between these two trains of thought as the day wears on, righteous anger and self-gratifying guilt both vying to hold the reins and take control. But no more. It was time to actually do something about it.

She completes her chores at lighting speed and makes her way to the south-east end of town, seeking the guidance of her wisest friend. Maria doesn't dissapoint, and offers that perhaps both perspectives have merit. Unlike Ellen, Ann, or Nina, Maria has a more pragmatic spirit, and isn't afraid to hear Tina entertain the notion that perhaps agriculture and animal husbandry is not her calling.

"I mean... what am I supposed to do?" Tina asks.

Maria hums thoughtfully, then replies, "Have you ever considered that maybe you're not supposed to do anything?"

"What do you mean?"

"How to put it?... Either way, you're at a point where you want to keep trying. Whether it's to figure out if you're meant to be a farmer or not. You want to be different, so you're trying to identify some kind of change to make. But maybe it's not about doing, maybe it's about being."

"Being what, though?"

"Well, I don't know," she said, "What do you want to be?"

Just when Jamie thinks he'll be able to go a single day without getting pestered by someone in this village (which is strange, really, given that it's a parochial farming town and he's an antisocial hermit), he hears the sound of his least favorite person calling his name. He pretends not to notice her hopping up and down, waving at him from the other side of his property. This ends up being the wrong decision, however, as it prompts Tina to climb the fence and rush straight up to him.

"Jamie!" she says confidently, "I've figured out what I need to do!"

He brings himself up from the carrot seeds he was burying, sarcastic enthusiasm painted on his features. "You're finally leaving?! Great! Have a nice life."

She rolls her eyes, "Ha-ha, Jamie, very funny. And I know you're still mad at me about the other day—"

He suppresses the urge to correct her by pointing out that he's indifferent to her existence, but thinks better of it.

"—But I'm going to make it better! I'm gonna be better! Because I thought about it a lot, and honestly you were right, I should be more careful. So from now on I-"

"Hold on a second," he says, because he could swear he just heard his 3 favorite words, "What did you say?"

"I said, I should be more careful."

"No... no," he grins, "Before that."

Tina looks as though she has been force fed a lemon, and Jamie thinks it might just be the best expression she's ever made.

"I... said... that I am going to make things... better," she says carefully, and seems to be avoiding eye contact at all costs.

Jamie can hardly believe it. Today might actually be a good day after all. A great one, even!

"After that."

Her bitter expression falters for a moment before morphing into something too friendly and indulging for his liking. "Fine," she says, "Since it means sooo much to you, you were right. Are you happy?"

He is, in fact, not happy, simply on the merit that she no longer seems bitter and instead is going about the conversation more like they're two old pals who like to engage in some light-spirited ribbing every now and then. It's chummy, too chummy for his liking with anyone. Especially her.

"Come on, hear me out! You always wanted me to take this rivalry stuff we've got goin' on seriously, right? Well, that's what I decided to do. Er, be. I wanna be a better rival."

He dusts his hands off begrudgingly. "Meaning?"

"Meaning," she said. "I understand why you're so angry at me. It's not just about putting my animals in harm's way. It's not about me being reckless and hurting myself, either. It's because... someone chosen by the Goddess shouldn't act like that. Right?"

He says nothing, but there's something akin to relief in his eyes.

"She called out to me. She needs me, even. And that's a way bigger responsibility than a chick. So if I wanna save her? I've gotta prove that I'm capable of handling the big stuff. But if I'm going to do that, I know I have to become someone you can depend on."

"And what makes you think I would ever need to depend on you?"

"You wouldn't!" she sighs, "Not, not like that. What I mean is, I know you're the most qualified one. You've been here longer, you actually got to know her as a person. You're the one she chose first. But she chose me too! And neither of us really knows why, but she did! For some reason, she needs both of us."

He scowls, "Maybe. Or maybe, you're just supposed to be another obstacle for me."

She smirks, which he finds more than a little unsettling. "Maybe I am."

He gives her a long, appraising look. "What weird kind of head-games are you trying to play with me right now, Pigtails?"

"I'm saying, maybe in order to prove myself here, I have to prove myself to you. Remember how, at the start of summer, I didn't want to be rivals? That's because I thought we had to work as a team to save her. But we might both be right, in a way. If I go head-to-head with you as a rival, if I can match you someday and be just as good as you- maybe somehow that's the key to bringing her back. It makes sense when you think about the Notes, too. Maybe we both need to gather them. We need to be rivals, and we need to work together."

As much as he hates it (and gods, does he hate it so, so much) there's the slight possibility that she might be on to something. It's definitely an improvement from the bubblegum-sunshine-let's-hold-hands-and-skip-through-the-flowers approach she usually takes with him. If he didn't know any better, he'd think this was some strange attempt at a compromise. Surely there wasn't any harm in letting her take herself seriously for once. It's not as if she was a threat, anyway. Quite the opposite. Her acceptance of their rivalry was, really, the only thing he had ever wanted from her. She was still hung up on the friendship thing, but at least it wasn't exclusive of a genuine competition between them.

"Do you remember what else you said at the beginning of summer?" he asks. "Back then you said the same thing. That you'd take our rivalry seriously, and look what happened. And what's more, you said you didn't care if you had my approval anyway. Why the sudden change of heart?"

Tina shrugs. "Like I said, I've been thinking a lot. And I hate to admit it, but you know what you're doing with the whole farming thing. And you were the first one the Goddess chose."

"Well, you're not wrong on either of those counts," he sniffs. "So, what's your grand plan?"

"Whaddya mean?"

"You said you wanted to take things seriously for real this time. So how exactly are you gonna prove it?"

"That brings me to my next point. Jamie... I've got a proposition. I want to stay; you want me gone. We both want to save the Goddess. So here's my idea. We keep tally of how many notes we each have. Whoever gets to 50 first, wins. If I get to 50 first, then it means I've proved myself and I'm just as good a farmer as you. And that means we figure out how to save her my way."

"And if I win?"

"Then you get your way and I leave. For good."

He hesitates for a fraction of a moment.

"You're on."

hahahaha, I tooootally also didn't take ages (wow, literally) to write this chapter because I forgot who was at the dagdum door. Tooootally not...

But um, yeah, I really hope I don't have to retcon this later.

Another thing I'd like to point out: I am aware that Tina has been very wishy-washy about whether or not she wants to be Jamie's rival or friend. That's partly intentional, as Tina herself is kind of in a process of figuring out what she really wants. She's a 19 year old girl who's going out on her own in the world for the first time, so her convictions are not going to be very solid. Her heart is in the right place, but at the end of the day she's still kind of a kid and has a lot of room to grow.