It remained a struggle for Cliff to keep his eyelids open as he stumbled into the shower, fumbling with the knobs to turn on the water. He wasn't sure when he had drifted off to sleep, but he still didn't feel quite awake.
It was worth it, though...
Frigid water assaulted his skin and his breath was squeezed from his lungs as he scrambled to adjust the temperature – he was alert now. There was a reason he waited a moment for the temperature to adjust, he recalled with an irritated grumble. Then again, it had been a while since he used the shower in this room.
Cliff allowed his thoughts to drift back to the night before as the water heated up.
Gray's never been that open with me. I guess we're closer than I thought.
Cliff leaned a hand on the wall of the shower as he blinked, watching the water circle down the drain. Droplets ran down his chin as he let out a sigh of comfort. The steam was comfortable on this particularly chilly morning, and the cold surprise from the tap had already been forgotten.
His hair was already soaked; it would take a little getting used to for this shorter length to feel right. He shampooed it, running his fingers through the strands. Absentmindedly gripping the longest part with his fingers, he was relieved to see that it was either too slick or short to wrap his hand around his locks and tug. A finger could twist around his hair, but a ponytail was no longer feasible.
The heat from the shower did little to affect the cold blood that suddenly coursed through his veins.
The color of her enraged eyes was suddenly vivid in his mind. He could still recall the scent of the perfume she wore. Her hot breath was coming out in puffs in the crook of his neck as she began to hyperventilate, trembling. Unpleasant goosebumps peppered his skin as his brow began to itch with perspiration.
" You want to leave. Y-you can't. You just can't. I can't be all alone again…"
What had it been about Nadine in that moment that scared him so much?
There was a commanding presence in her voice, though its shakiness was bordering on hysteria. The tight twisting of his hair kept him from moving his neck freely. Nadine, whose warm brown eyes and friendly smile had brought Cliff the first feelings of comfort and belonging in a long time had suddenly vanished, and this person was replaced with something cold and empty, clawing and controlling. The person he thought she was never existed.
The physical pain wasn't nearly as bad as the emotional scars she had left behind, but in that moment, he could still feel the pull on his scalp and the wrenching of his hair. It had left him with a few pulled muscles that lingered for a long time, and his swift traveling in the opposite direction of her town while repressing those memories did him no favors in speeding up the healing process, both physically and mentally.
He didn't realize he was crying until he felt his breath hitch. His face was already wet from the shower and it meshed with his tears.
"I was still reeling from a sour... acquaintanceship... and didn't really think I was worthy of being anyone's partner."
Gray never asked what I had meant. Maybe that's best. Last night wasn't about me, anyway...
Cliff remembered the subject changing to Claire and he slowed his breathing, thinking of her soothing voice, her warm smiles.
The gentle way she held his hand as he had told her his story in the hospital.
Her unwavering insistence that he was not a bad person despite what he had done.
She accepts me. She accepts me as hers.
He stepped out of the shower and dried off with a towel, hot steam clouding his vision. He felt a little uneasy on his feet.
Claire wouldn't hurt me that way.
He quickly set to shaving, wiping the condensation off of the mirror and gripping the edge of the sink with shaky hands before lathering up his shaving brush.
Her sapphire eyes filled with tears came too easily to mind. Worry over his injuries last fall, his announcement at leaving Mineral Town, his recent hospitalization...
You've hurt her plenty of times.
Shaking his head in disappointment, he finished lathering his face. He rinsed off his razor and continued, realizing how long it felt since he had washed up and shaved on his own. He let out a disappointed sigh; Elli was likely worn ragged from all the care she put into him. He thought of her kind eyes as she had helped him into the bath, her calming voice as the warm water lapped over his skin. The nurse had told lighthearted tales about her and Stu or silly moments she and Mary had shared to keep the mood light and eliminate any awkwardness between them as she tended to him.
He had caught her eye from time to time as she had cut his hair, her cheeks blushing to a bright pink as she let out a nervous laugh, continuing her work. She really had been far too kind. Her inviting him over to dinner? She was just being polite.
I asked too much of Elli...
I asked too much of everyone.
Maybe I always have.
The shaky smile he had forced on his lips dropped as he caught his eyes in the reflection of the mirror.
It's not a 'maybe' – it's a 'definitely'.
He focused on the tired bags under his eyes; they had been getting better but last night left him looking as exhausted as he felt. His face had lost a lot of the boyish roundness that was in his family photo. It had only become slimmer since he moved into town and he couldn't tell if he simply looked older or sickly, or if it was combination of both. His gaze traveled down the scars that crawled up his arms and he let out a heavy sigh when he spotted an offensive row of marks and fading bruises left from the IV treatments Elli gave him; he avoided fixating on his reflection for a reason.
So pathetic... I'm not even allowed to lift things at work right now... I'm supposed to be better.
His gaze moved down his bare torso, and he glared at his narrow waist. He was a far cry from his strong, barrel-chested father. Surely Flint had been much more capable than Cliff was when he was his age.
You can still almost see my ribs. Looks like I lost some of the weight I managed to put back on...
I'm sorry Elli had to look at... all of this.
Claire... she wouldn't even... I'd have to be stupid to think...
Bright sapphire eyes with flushed cheeks and wisps of golden hair made his heart throb as he remembered the other evening. Her breath had been hot against his lips as they eagerly pressed against his again and again, taking turns initiating the kisses.
Why would Claire ever want to kiss me? I'm so-
He was grateful for the smart rapping at the bathroom door.
"Yo! You can wear another one of my sweatshirts if you want today!" Gray's voice sounded more like a command than an offer. "Supposed to be cold..."
Cliff tore his eyes from the mirror, grateful his trance had been broken. "Oh, uh... I have something I can wear..."
He stepped out of the bathroom in a cloud of rosemary scented steam, towel around his waist.
"Should've brought your clothes in there. You don't need to be givin' yourself another chill." Gray's voice from the opposite side of the room caught his attention. His face was buried in one of his old comic books to give his roommate some privacy.
"I'm fine." Cliff was already digging through his belongings. A long-sleeved tunic lined with fur was produced, and he set to getting dressed for the day.
Undergarments, deodorant, undershirt, pants... I'll bring my work gloves just in case... maybe a bit of cologne... I should make a good impression, even if I end up being use-
"So would you consider yourself team pancake or team waffle?" Gray's voice had an amused lilt to it as he laced up his boots.
"You mean if I had to choose one?" His thoughts were pulled from the gloom of his shower as he pulled his undershirt over his head.
"It's a tough call, huh?"
He was grateful for the distraction, he realized. A soft chuckle emitted from Cliff. "You sound like Ann."
His roommate ignored this comment and gave him a serious look that wasn't very convincing. "So your choice?"
Cliff's head popped through the neckline of his tunic and he pulled his arms through the sleeves, reaching for his bracers. He sat on the edge of his bed to slide one on and carefully knotted the leather lacing with the assistance his teeth. Gray's eyes moved toward the scuffs on them Cliff had acquired during early fall and his stomach dropped for a brief moment as he remembered they had stood up to an assault from an eagle. He quickly shook the thought from his head as he noticed the small smile on his face.
"Well... both are good..."
"Kai says you got your sweet tooth from your father." Gray stood up and approached his friend's bed, sitting beside him as he pulled on his second bracer.
"Uh, h-hello..." Cliff wasn't sure if this closeness was going to be a new normal.
Gray took his arm. "It drives me nuts to watch you tie those the way you do. Lemme do it."
Cliff stifled a laugh; surely Gray was unaware he had nearly perfectly quoted one of Ivy's morning grumbles.
He blinked in surprise. The memory hadn't hurt...
Gray caught the look on Cliff's face as he pulled on the laces. "Is this a good tightness?"
Shaking the memories of his sister, he gave an absentminded nod.
"Cliff?"
He perked to attention at his name, and Cliff noticed the dark circles under Gray's eyes. He wondered if they were sporting the same look.
"If you're uncomfortable, just tell me."
He looked down at the bracer Gray was tying. "I told you it wasn't too tight. It's fine. Thanks."
A huff was given in response. "Ah, no, I... I mean... am I invading your space? Is it... cool for me to be this close to you?"
Cliff caught the dusting of color on Gray's cheeks. Clearly, the night before was also fresh in his mind. It was new, but it was welcome. The room itself seemed to have gained a new warmth to it. "I don't mind... It's cool."
Gray burst into laughter that reminded him much of Saibara. He finished knotting the bracer and gave it a pat. "I'm not the best at thank-yous... so, uh... it meant a lot to me – talking to me and listening to me rant last night."
He was given a shake of the head in response. "You don't have to thank me. I wanted to do that for you."
"Well, it means a lot that you're willing to waste your time on a loser like me." Gray's slight smirk kept Cliff from disagreeing. "You never answered my question though."
"Pancakes or waffles?"
Gray rose to his feet. "So you do remember."
His playfulness was contagious; if Gray was hungover, he did an excellent job of hiding it. Cliff looked up at him with a grin. "Well, there are basically two schools of thought..."
"Oh?"
He smirked at Gray. "Claire and I have already had discussions on pancakes."
"Sounds like a very important discussion to have as a couple," Gray deadpanned with a nod.
"This was right after we met," Cliff corrected him, standing up and running his fingers through his damp hair. He retrieved a towel to dry it better. "She really likes them. But I like okonomiyaki better."
Gray let out a sigh. "We're talking about breakfast food. Standard pancakes versus standard waffles."
Cliff finished ruffling his hair with a towel and ran his fingers through it. "Okay. Sweet pancakes are good, but consider this – waffles are full of compartments for butter and syrup."
"But crispy edges on pancakes!" Gray pointed out. "It's such a good contrast in texture! I know Kai would back me up on this one, and he's the one who is the foodie."
Cliff tilted his head for a moment, then quickly shook it. "But you can get so much more butter and syrup on waffles."
"Okay, but contemplate this!" Gray's voice bordered a chuckle as he pulled a sweatshirt over his tee. "If you use your fork to make a divot in the middle of the pancake and then add the butter and syrup, you get the best of both worlds. You start around the crispy edges and once you reach the middle, that bite is so saturated in butter and syrup – it's magic."
Cliff began gathering his things in his bag, eager to focus on their conversation rather than what awaited him at the winery that morning. "That sounds like an Ann Tip."
"It is an Ann Tip! You have to remember I used to visit Mineral Town all the time as a kid and we'd play in the vacant lot after having breakfast together downstairs. Anyway, looks like I'm buying you some pancakes this morning so you can experience what I'm talking about."
Cliff looked up from his bag, knitting his brow. "Why are you so hung up on pancakes of all things?"
Gray let out a groan. "I'm taking you to breakfast, okay? My treat. I've got the day off to think about everything we talked about last night and the least I could do is make sure you're sent off with a proper breakfast."
Cliff shifted his feet uncomfortably. The bags under Gray's eyes were prominent and he caught him wincing at the light on the ceiling; he was experiencing a hangover, and likely a rough one, but he just wasn't expressing it aloud. "I wanted to help you."
"And I want to treat you." His voice was much more sober than the night before.
Cliff's shoulders stopped tensing as he looked up at him. "Thank you."
Koro circled Claire's legs, barking excitedly, but it did little to break her determination. She hoisted a couple of bundles of alfalfa on her shoulder and was headed to the barn when she heard a call over the fence.
"Good morning, Claire!" Rick was jogging over, jamming his hands into his jacket pockets. He paused to look upward at The winterized Tomato Tube with a satisfied grin on his face.
She gave him a nod in greeting, her hands full. Despite her friendly greeting, her mind was running over her plans for the day. "Hello. How have you been?"
His eyes moved toward the poultry barn and he let out a small sigh, forcing a nervous smile on his face. "I'm... doing okay. How about yourself?"
"I'm alright. Getting ready to feed the sheep and give them a good brushing."
"Would you care for some insider tips?" Rick leaned on the fence as she had often seen Popuri do. His eyes were drawn to the barn in a way that would suggest that he was dying to step inside and see what was going on.
Claire managed a slight chuckle, her breath leaving her in a visible puff in the chilled winter air. "Well, when you make a face like that, it's really hard to say no."
Rick cocked his head, his laugh genuine. Whether she realized it or not, her words with him had been much more candid lately. His smile faded as he recalled her responses to him mentioning Karen.
Maybe I really did need someone to be blunt with me like that. Someone like Claire.
His gaze traveled back toward his own barn one last time before landing back on her. She was watching the way his hands were gripping the fence post and one boot was already resting against the lower slat in the fence.
"You sure you don't mind?" He couldn't help but wonder if he was making things awkward.
She shook her head, realizing that he had been requesting her company over anything else. "Not at all. Climb on over, then. I'm sure Popuri's shown you how to by now." A smile formed on her lips.
Her attention had moved toward the precarious stack of alfalfa for only a few moments before she heard the sound of footfalls – Rick had hoisted himself over the fence with relative ease. "Who do you think taught her?" Rick asked with a smirk. "Been doing it since we were kids."
Koro was eager to lead the party to the barn, pawing at the door as he was eager to meet his new playmates. Rick opened the barn door, frowning at the loose latch. Still, the door seemed heavy and solid after all the years of abuse.
"I'm sure you've heard the stories of us playing on this property while it was abandoned," Rick continued. "The barn had a padlock on it to keep critters and... well... us out." He let out a weak laugh.
Claire grinned, adding the feed to the trough. "From what I've heard, the whole lot of you were a bunch of critters."
His chuckle was genuine. "You better believe it! Karen was the ringleader, and Poppy, Ann, and I would try to break into this barn regularly." He was relieved that the mere mention of Karen's name didn't hurt at the moment, and Claire's face remained cheery as she spread out the alfalfa. "When Gray would come to visit, we were capable of even more destruction. Karen had convinced us that there was someone trapped in the barn and we were determined to break them out. We all thought there was a ghost living in the farmhouse – that was all boarded up, along with the chicken coop."
"Oh, that's kind of creepy," Claire admitted, blanching a bit.
He looked around them for a brief moment, his eyes flicking around the barn. "You... ever see anything?" Rick felt the need to lower her voice.
He hadn't struck her as the type to believe in the supernatural, instead relying on solid facts. "Like what?"
Giving her a quick shrug, Rick fussed with his glasses, trying his best to avoid her questioning look – of course he sounded suspicious.
She found her eyes traveling around carefully and realized she was whispering. "What did you see?" Goosebumps traveled up her arms, and it wasn't from the weather. "What... do I need to look out for?"
Distracted by her worry, she didn't see the apologetic look he gave her and when he placed what was meant to be a comforting hand on one shoulder, she let out a sharp shriek that caused the animals to raise their ears in alarm.
He withdrew his hand as if he was touching something hot. "I'm sorry, Claire. I didn't mean to scare you."
Brows furrowed and knees weak, she took a seat on an empty wooden crate to stabilize herself. She placed a hand on her chest and could feel her heart pounding.
"We were kids when it happened," Rick started, taking a seat beside her. He absentmindedly picked a piece of alfalfa off of his coat and twirled it between his fingers. "Maybe it wasn't even real. We were all playing out in the fields you have here. We would all take turns picking the games, but I always thought the abandoned fields were perfect for flying."
"Flying?" Claire cocked her head with a quizzical look.
Rick let out an uncharacteristically playful laugh that caught her by surprise. "Yeah! I didn't start out on farm machinery, you now. I started back on planes and gliders as a kid. Once I got used to making them from blueprints, I started experimenting with different designs. There's this feeling you get when you finally get a combination to work the way you want it to and you see that first clean flight. I mean, you have that sense of accomplishment, but you also realize that every time is different and you're never going to see this first flight again. And thinking 'I made this' while watching something soar over your head... it's incredible. You watch these wings that were wobbly a few tries ago, and after some alterations, when the wind picks up... It's enough to take your breath away."
She had never seen him look so enthusiastic and giddy to talk about something before; it was a different confidence than when he had shown her around the chicken farm. Claire smiled, silently asking him to continue, her anxiety swiftly forgotten.
"You see, it's all in the design of the wings, tail, and nose. If you want them to fly a certain way, there are different classic shapes. I started on simple paper airplanes, but I really got into the propeller gliders and planes, y'know, the ones operated by rubber bands." His glasses slid down his nose as he continued, but he made no movement to fix them. "I got some really good flights on this farm! But on windy days-!" He let out a laugh, his eyes glowing. "Would you believe I got one plane to make it all the way to the beach? I was afraid it was going to make a water landing!"
A smile curled at her lips. "Well, then I suppose you'd need to make a seaplane model."
"I did!" Rick practically bounced in his seat. "Well, I mean, after that happened, I wanted to see if I could manage to get one to travel on the water and have a secondary propeller that would activate in the water."
"That's really neat! So you were designing them yourself? That's so impressive!"
His cheeks were rosy as he flashed her a grin. "I had good sources to lay a solid foundation. When us kids were all playing over at Ann's, her dad showed us this book on paper airplane designs. I really got into it, and he was really encouraging. You see, Doug's mom designed and invented things for use around their farm. I looked at some of her blueprints and got some ideas of my own. There are some designs and materials that work better if you want to try to implement the clockwork mechanisms rather than a power motor. I've experimented with a few different methods, but I'd have to say that clockwork is really my favorite – there's something timeless about it." He held out his arm, pulling up the sleeve of his coat, revealing a wristwatch with a worn leather strap. The face of the watch was punctuated with scuffs, but the metal implements were polished and well-loved. "Dad gave this to me when I was young, and it got all jammed up. I was so excited when I got it to work again. It was... the last thing he gave me before he left." The joy on his face faded as he moved his gaze to the floor.
Her heart ached at seeing his enthusiasm fade so quickly. "Well, I think that it's amazing you were able to fix it all by yourself."
His ears perked up and he gave her an apologetic smile. "Thanks. The clockwork mechanisms helped me get some ideas for The Tomato Tube." He paused. "You know... I really do care about him even if it doesn't seem like it."
Claire recalled their conversation at the Cow Festival. "I never got the impression you didn't. Understanding that someone isn't perfect doesn't mean that you love them any less. I think it means more to continue to love them despite their faults."
Rick looked like he wanted to say something, but he bit his lip, giving an awkward shrug. "Fixing the watch gave me a lot of confidence. I showed it off to Ann and she must've seen how excited I was, because she asked me if I could take a look at a broken music box she had. It was tricky, but I learned a lot from it, and it was worth seeing the look on her face when I wound it up for her and she opened it. She must've told Harris, because he picked up another jammed music box when he visited Zephyr Town along with some other projects for me to tinker with. I'm pretty stoked about the box; it's been a challenge to fix, but it polished up really nice, and the song it's supposed to play..." He paused as he bit his lip with a frown, letting out a flustered laugh that sounded a little forced. "Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself!"
"I really don't mind!"
That was all the encouragement he needed. "Anyway, I figured if I could fix something and make new parts for watches and music boxes, what's stopping me from taking the next step and using the techniques I learned to soup up the machines we got from Saibara?"
Claire was glad to see him perk back up. "So you have some custom machinery, then?"
She was given a chuckle in response. "Your description is much more flattering than Gray's. He's got a background in electronics, so we talk shop sometimes when I go there to get supplies. He might call my egg sorters and mayonnaise makers my 'cobbled abominations' or 'Frankenmachines', but I know he means it in the most loving way possible. He's... not always the best with words."
Claire's mind traveled to the conversation that took place while mining the day before. "I've taken up some part time work with him in the mines, and every day, I'm reminded of that." She felt a brush of shame; her parents would have been horrified that she said something like that so casually – about her employer's grandson, no less. She quelled the feelings the best she could; the sting form Gray's words had faded a bit, but she was grateful for the day off away from him.
She wasn't sure if the following silence was long or if it was simply guilt that was eating away at her. "I... shouldn't have said that," she murmured softly, her cheeks burning.
She thought that she had gotten better at hiding her facial expressions, but when she looked up from her lap, she noticed that Rick's face looked sympathetic.
"It's true, though. Honestly, it's best not to take it too personally when he gets in his moods." Rick had noticed that Gray had seemed out of sorts the last few times he had seen him at the inn. Gray's only words the night before had only been poorly masked slurs for more whiskey.
Claire shook her head apologetically. "I'm sorry – I got us off topic."
It was clear she didn't want to talk any more about Gray. Rick gave a shrug. "I was really the one who veered us off course, rambling on about my projects."
She saw his smile fade a bit – he was self-conscious for gushing. "It's alright! I liked hearing about it!" she insisted with a nod.
He looked over at her and found his lips curling back upward. He wasn't sure if she was just trying to patronize him, but he had to admit he didn't mind too much; Karen often looked drowsy when he brought up the subject in the past. "Well, I had flown a plane across to the far end of the fields. I was running to retrieve it and stepped into a sinkhole. I can only imagine the problems with moles you've had to deal with since clearing out the fields."
Claire recalled the spring and her frustration at the uneven soil and dirt clods. "I know they eat the grubs that eat the roots of my plants, so it's not too bad, but those huge tunnels they make... yeah, I've tripped a couple of times," she admitted with an embarrassed chuckle. She paused. "You're not about to tell me something crazy, like you ended up seeing a giant, human-sized one, are you?"
Rick let out a hearty laugh. "No, Claire, I don't think those exist! Has Carter been telling you horror stories again?"
Giggling, she shook her head. "I'm just saying it sure felt that way when I first walked across the property! Something big was burrowing down there!"
"No kidding! That's how I got stuck in that sinkhole. I was buried up to my knee!" When he saw Claire's widened eyes, he continued with his tale, relishing in his spellbound audience. "Anyway, I was trying my best to get free, but my second foot was beginning to sink, too. It was spring, and the ground was really soft. You have to understand no one had even been walking around on that property to make sure everything was safe."
"And there you were, trespassing on it! I never took you for such a rebel, Rick!" Claire laughed.
The young man adjusted his glasses, his cheeks staining pink. "I'm not as stuffy as people seem to think I am! Besides, like I said, the whole lot of us critters were roaming around the property."
"So how did you get out?"
"That's the weird thing. It felt like the harder I tried to get out, the deeper I got sucked in."
"Quicksand?"
Rick laughed even harder, shaking his head. "That doesn't exist around here. Besides, quicksand is denser than the human body. It'd be more cumbersome than anything else, but you could eventually get yourself out of it."
"Oh." Claire looked slightly disappointed. "I guess I spent a lot of my childhood worrying a lot over something that's not even deadly."
"This sinkhole wasn't anything like that, though. Even with everyone trying to pull me out, I was stuck. Poppy was about to hop the fence to let Dad know, but I suddenly felt like my foot was being pushed out of the hole... from below?" He shook his head. "I know it doesn't make any sense."
"Like, something propelling you upward?"
"Yeah... Almost like I was a cork being shot out of a bottle. I felt like I practically popped out of the hole. It was really strange. Gray was insistent that he had done it himself – this was before his injury, mind you. Honestly, Ann was the strongest of the bunch and she agreed that something strange had happened. I even looked in the hole right after I was free, and I thought I saw a faint shimmer before it vanished." He fussed with the watch on his wrist, shaking his head in disbelief. "I mean, it could have been a water droplet on my glasses or something, or a trick of the light, but..."
He shyly lifted his eyes to gauge Claire's reaction, but she was staring at the beams across the ceiling, eyes wide.
She hadn't forgotten the foggy visions she had experienced by the Goddess Spring when visiting with Karen shortly after they had met.
"It could have been something else," her voice was practically a whisper.
Rick released the tension in his shoulders he didn't realize he had been holding. "Yeah," he breathed. He stared at the dust motes floating in the air; what he had seen had shared some similar qualities. "So... around the beginning of last winter, Poppy had mentioned that she saw someone wandering around Mother's Hill. I thought it might have been a tourist, but she said that they hung around the Goddess Spring a lot and had been there for a few weeks, sometimes cooking fish over a campfire."
"Cliff?"
Rick decided it was best to leave out the part of him visiting Gotz to inquire about the mysterious wanderer. "He kept his distance from all of us."
He could still remember the day when he bumped into Popuri from behind, who had suddenly come to a halt. Sputtering curses as the water splashed out of the bucket he was carrying to the coops, he fell silent when he noticed his sister staring intently over the fence, far out into the abandoned farm. The person was wearing a heavy hooded coat of hide lined with fur and burdened with a few full bags draped around their body.
"I think he was foraging and fishing on the edge of the farm. He seemed afraid to come too close, almost like he thought we were going to chase him out." She could hear the frown in Rick's voice.
"He was a bit skittish," Claire remembered. The very memory of his older self filled her with a dull gloom and she wanted nothing more than to run over to the inn and re-cement his current state to memory.
"Later that day, I jumped the fence and went to the old sinkhole with a shovel. I figured we didn't need anyone else getting trapped in there. And, later once I learned someone was moving onto the property, I worried even more holes would be found."
Claire remembered her earlier days on the farm and noticed that when Rick didn't have his eyes drawn to her working in her fields, Popuri often looked up from her own activities.
He probably asked her to keep an eye out for me just in case.
"You're a kind person, Rick."
His chuckle was nonchalant, but she could see his cheeks swiftly brighten in color. "Thanks. It's been a while since I've heard that one." Embarrassed, he slid off of the crate and shuffled back over to the sheep. He cast a smile at Koro, who was playfully sniffing and following around a couple of the larger ewes. "Anyway, I figured the fields were in rough shape. The old owner passed away the spring before I was born, after all, and no one else had really done much with the property. I remember one summer when I was a teenager Thomas hired Gotz to clean up the debris around the front of the house so his photographer friend, Kano, could take some shots of it. I didn't think much of it at the time. I figured it was one for one of Kano's art collections."
"Kano?"
Rick took a spare comb and started working on a sheep. "A friend of Thomas's family. Travels a lot for his photo shoots. Kinda comes and goes as he pleases." The slight disapproval was heard in Rick's voice. "He always seems a little too eager to drop names when he's in town, bragging at the bar. I guess it's a good thing he doesn't have a family or partner here." He shook his head, rolling his eyes with a snort. "I'm sure he'll be back in town for the holidays, just like he was last year. With Starry Night, Winter Thanksgiving, and the Stocking Festival coming up, he's bound to show up for the free gifts. He left shortly after the New Year's festival at the beginning of this year."
"Oh... I must've still been moving in."
It was a lie. There had been very little to move. She had set her few belongings on the floor within the first few hours and bawled her eyes out at the pathetic state of the farm and house that she had recklessly purchased, beguiled by a pretty ad featuring sprawling fields and a charming farmhouse.
"I bet those photos were for the ad in the newspaper for the farm and they hadn't updated them since." Bitter words slipped off her tongue before she could stop them.
Letting out a sigh, she moved her eyes to Rick and saw that he had stopped brushing.
I had been looking at a photo that was probably taken the time I was in middle school – that's how old it was...
"It's true, isn't it?" she barked, her chuckle humorless. The heat had returned to her blood. It was an old, almost forgotten feeling – the urge to scream, kick, punch, or break something in her anger. She had quelled it the best she could as a child, and her fear of her parents made it easy to keep in check. However, it had made its ugly debut when she first saw the state of Mystic Acres and heard Mayor Thomas and his snide chortle.
A rustling caught her attention; Koro was rolling around in the feed bin, chasing his tail.
I promised him that I wouldn't lose my temper around him again...
The flames inside her died down as she recalled sitting on the edge of the pier at Cliff's side, staring up at the sky. His reaction to her implication that moving to Mineral Town was a mistake had caught her by surprise, holding her tightly in his trembling arms.
"Pl-please don't say that, Claire… It hurts when you do."
Her gaze moved back toward Rick, who was giving her a sympathetic frown, but he clearly had no words to offer her.
"It doesn't matter now, anyway." She hoisted herself off of the empty crate and grabbed a comb sitting beside her. She moved toward the sheep, her legs a little wobbly, and her anger was replaced with a slight fatigue. "I'm here, and this is my farm. Someday it's going to look even better than those photos."
He got back to work as well. "I know you can do it, Claire. I see you working those fields. And the repairs you had done look great." Their eyes met, and Claire could see the sincerity in his expression. "I can imagine Gotz had his work cut out for him with that renovation, but that farmhouse is looking better than it has in decades."
Claire felt a swell of pride; there were a lot of rookie mistakes she dwelt on regularly, but sometimes it was good to remember she had been successful as well. "Thanks. There wasn't really a good time to do it, but needed to be done before it got too cold." Her voice broke off at the end. The panic of spending her money to refurbish her house when Cliff was broke and talking about leaving town was still fresh in her mind and easy to replicate despite her best intentions to avoid doing just that. When she spoke again, it was in a steadied tone. "I'm just glad things worked out the way they did."
"Agreed. From what I gathered, the old owner only lived with the most basic of essentials."
Rick was absentmindedly stroking the head of May's sheep, Marshmallow. "Mom said he was friends with Saibara, and Barley's mentioned him a few times. Old man Fukuda. I don't know too many things about him. He had a farm here for longer than most of our parents can remember."
"Fukuda..." Claire tried the name in her mouth. The illegible letters that remained on Mystic Acres's mailbox suddenly made sense. She hadn't given them much thought, but a very faded -uda had been the only part she could discern.
"I wanna say his full name was Nobu Fukuda. Passed away at a really old age. No family in the area." She didn't have to look at him to hear the frown in Rick's voice. "I don't believe he ever married or had a partner that I can recall hearing about. Makes you wonder why he left wherever he was just to be here..."
She could still see the concerned looks on her parents' faces.
"Is this really what you want to do?"
"Claire, let's talk about this rationally."
"Darling, think about it. You're emotional and you're setting yourself up for failure…"
She wished her words had been more confident that fateful day.
"I just… I just wanted you to be happy for me."
Frustration tugged at her nerves. Every time she replayed the conversation in her head she felt guilt for her flaring temper.
But how could it honestly have gone more smoothly? They wouldn't have listened otherwise...
"There could be any number of reasons," Claire pointed out, the strain in her voice quiet, but audible.
A heavy silence hung in the room, the only sounds the rustling of alfalfa as the sheep munched on their meal.
When Rick finally spoke up, his tone was reserved. "I guess it would be rude for me to ask for yours."
Claire wasn't sure why a lump formed in her throat and she turned to running her comb through the sheep's fleece. "I was looking for something new."
She wasn't giving him much to go on. Before he thought about what he was saying, the words slipped out. "Karen said you never talked about your parents much."
Claire's stomach felt sour. After the uncomfortable conversation she had with Gray earlier on the subject, she wasn't exactly eager to talk about it again. Their pleasant banter earlier about gliders and music boxes crumbled as she furrowed her brow, recalling Karen's puffy red eyes as they sat against one another, watching My Dear Princess.
Since when did he ever even listen to Karen?
"Well, I can assure you that it doesn't mean that I don't care. Apparently I care 'too much' according to some people," she spat the words like venom.
She froze in horror as she realized she had said that aloud.
"I didn't mean to pry." The color had drained from Rick's face. "I... need to think before I speak."
"I-I'm sorry," she stammered, fussing with her sleeves. "I didn't mean for it to come out like that. There's just a lot on my mind..."
"You've just seemed down and I thought I'd check on you," Rick's voice faltered. "I didn't mean to add to your stress. Maybe I, uh, should go see how Poppy's coming along..."
She remembered the way he had been looking at the coop before hopping the fence. "Popuri?"
He saw her raised brows and heard the way her voice had lightened. He refrained from setting down his brush. "Yeah. She's mucking out the coops today. It'll be the first time all by herself. She's a little squeamish, but it's nothing that won't go away with time." A slight smile curled on his mouth in spite of himself. "It's strange. I was so worried about her not taking it seriously enough or having to go back and fix everything she screwed up... Now that I'm delegating stuff to her and teaching her what I know, I feel proud of her. She's learning, and she's getting better as she goes along." Pausing, he bit his lip pensively. "I guess I started the same way."
Claire ran her hand along the soft fleece on the sheep's back. "It'll probably be more satisfying for her if she was left in charge. Let her impress you."
"I know you're right..." He let out a soft sigh and stretched his back, looking up at the rafters. "Sometimes I worry that everyone around me is growing and I'm just... stagnant. I feel like... maybe some people did deserve the right to get frustrated at me the way they did... like-"
Karen?
"Mom," he finished.
"Oh?"
"Yeah. She's been showing Poppy how to balance the books for when she's not feeling well to work, but Poppy's been eager to get a little more involved with the farm. Mom was really encouraging about it, and I just found the whole thing frustrating – she never seemed as determined before. I mean, she spent all summer frolicking on the beach and didn't seem that concerned about it then when the season was busier and there was more work to be done. It was hard to take her seriously before, but now..." Rick paused, searching for the right words before he screwed up what he was trying to say again. "She's changed somehow. Grown a bit." A pair of rueful eyes looked back at her. "I've known it for a while, and I can't put it off any longer – it's time for me to do the same. Change the way I view the world and try new things, y'know?"
Claire began to brush another sheep with thoughtful strokes. "I don't think there's anything wrong with that. My old job and life felt empty. I saw that ad in the newspaper and thought, 'This is it! Something new!'" She picked up the pace of work. "Sold everything and moved in here as fast as I could. It felt surreal."
"Weren't you scared?" His voice was unusually timid.
She gave him a sad smile and a nod. "I still am sometimes."
Cliff wasn't sure why he felt so anxious going into work that morning, but he found he was shaking from nerves and not the cold.
It feels like it's been forever... Do I just walk in like nothing's changed? Do I knock?
His hand hovered over the doorknob.
I mean, I work here. I should just go in...
But –
Cliff jumped in surprise as it flung open, revealing a wide-eyed Manna. He realized with embarrassment that it was likely she had been watching him from the window.
"Oh my goodness, look at you!" Her fingers rifled through his hair before she threw her arms around him. She was strong for her stature – Cliff gasped in surprise. "You look so different with your haircut! Who did that for you? Karen? Elli? Ann? I know she does Doug's hair."
Before he could reply, she continued on.
"It's definitely different from that ponytail you had. That was charming in its own way, but this is so... cute! Boyish, roguish, a little flirty, no?" She gave him a playful wink.
Cliff felt his cheeks turn pink, but Manna didn't stop to catch her breath, pulling him inside.
"Well, you look great. Let's get you out of that coat." She insisted on removing it for him despite his protests and held it out at arms' length, inspecting it. Manna was oblivious to the way Cliff's posture had stiffened. "Ah, heavy deerskin. I'm glad you have something sturdy to keep you warm." Her gaze appreciatively moved to his long-sleeved tunic.
Looks worn out... the boy could use some heavier clothing. Something warm, but comfortable...
"You look more well-rested, Cliff – younger, too! Why, you almost look like a child." Her eyes lingered on his face, and a mothering hand reached out to cup his cheek.
His memories had bubbled toward the surface at their contact.
Nadine used to tease around like that... I thought they were just friendly touches...
Cliff could feel his heart racing uncomfortably. "I-I've had a lot of time to get some extra sleep!" he interjected, wincing at the volume of his voice.
But how much did I sleep last night? A few hours?
Manna retracted her hand, realizing she had crossed an invisible boundary. "Well, you look healthier than I've ever seen you. Looks like the Doc and Elli fixed you right up. Some time, rest, and good food can really work wonders. You could still stand to gain a couple of pounds, but you look like you're doing so much better. Maybe I should snap a photo and send it to my Aja. I could fix you two up together; she's a bit of a firecracker, but she's very pretty. You might have some good chemistry. Opposites attract and all that." She swiftly dismissed her own words with the swat of a hand. "Not saying you're not attractive, Cliff! I was referring to how gentle you are. You're really handsome, too! As a matter of fact, I bet if she got a look at your sweet face, it'd bring her right back home quicker than a-"
His face turned crimson as he waved his hands at her, his lunch still in hand. "M-Manna... no thank you. I'm flattered, but there's already someone I..." Cliff gulped, surprised at how easily the words left his mouth once he got started. "... Someone I... g-gave my heart to."
Manna's eyebrows rose as she studied the look on his face, her eyes warming. The silence was deafening. "I was just teasing, Pumpkin."
Cliff couldn't help but notice there was a twinge of sadness in her eyes – part of her had been completely serious. He quickly moved his gaze to the floor.
She looked like she wanted to say more, but she stopped herself. "Well, whoever they are, they're very lucky."
Cliff shook his head, unable to keep the blush to a minimum. "I-I'm the lucky one."
"Oh?!" Manna's eyes widened with interest. "I can imagine a cutie like you has a few admirers."
"Manna, are you bothering that boy?" Duke's voice preceded him as he came down the stairs.
She struggled to avoid rolling her eyes as she turned around to face her husband. "Of course not. I'm just welcoming Cliff back from his... time off," she worded delicately.
Cliff's shoulders sank with embarrassment; it wasn't as if he had wanted to miss so much work. His previous fears started creeping up again.
What if they think I was looking for an excuse to get out of work?
That I'm lazy?
It's not like I was physically sick for that long...
He shook his head.
I would've been out sooner if I had just blocked everything out...
But...
Duke's voice pulled Cliff back to reality. "Well, the boy looks like he's about to cry."
Manna wore a wounded expression. Perhaps she had pushed too hard. "Cliff...?"
He could feel the heat creeping all the way to his ears. He was usually better at masking his emotions, or at least he thought.
Why does this all feel like so much?
"I'm fine!" Cliff winced as he heard his own voice come out as a loud squawk. He took a deep breath as he felt their eyes on him. "I-I'm sorry. I know it's not a good excuse, but... th-the past week or so's been... a lot," he admitted as his words cracked. He swallowed, not looking up. "That being said... I'm here to work. What are we doing today?"
The couple exchanged concerned looks that Cliff didn't see – his eyes were focused on the frayed edges of his sleeves.
Please don't send me back to the inn...
Manna's lips turned to a thin line. It wasn't easy to communicate with her husband that Cliff's behavior around her had been rather cold. She felt the instinct to comfort the young man, but she knew that she had to maintain comfortable boundaries. It looked like she had already pushed that to the limit today. She bit her tongue, Duke's harsh words still fresh in her mind from a recent argument.
"It's not prying! It's caring! Are you saying he doesn't mean anything to you?"
Before she could speak, Duke jumped in. "Well, Gray stopped by the other day and insisted that despite anything you say, you do have physical restrictions on what you can do. That means no heavy lifting in the cellar."
They watched as an uncharacteristic sour look crossed his face. "I-I'm sorry. I hope y'all know that I would if I could." He paused uncomfortably. "They still need to run some follow-up tests on my heart."
Manna frowned, her hand gravitating toward her chest.
A husky voice broke the silence. "It was that rough, huh?"
She flinched at her husband's blunt choice of words, but she was surprised to see Cliff give a small nod.
"I can still be useful, though!" His mind felt a little foggy when he tried to remember what he last worked on – it felt like an eternity ago, after all. "There was the Cabernet-"
"Already checked on it today," Duke returned with a proud grin.
I guess they've been managing just fine without me...
Cliff's smile became shaky, as did his voice. "Ah, I see... Well, uh..."
"We do have some batches that are ready for tasting." Duke's booming voice took Cliff by surprise. "Are you okay to be drinking again?"
Cliff gave a slight nod.
"Well, then a bit of the good stuff oughta have him feeling more like himself all the sooner," Duke laughed, giving his employee a heavy pat on the shoulder that jostled him more than he was expecting.
Manna raised a threatening brow, her eyes narrowed at him. "Duke, I'm warning you right now, we're not about to have a repeat of Cliff's first tasting."
Cliff could still remember the splitting headache the morning after Duke had poured several small glasses (naturally including a matching glass for himself), eagerly describing the grape varieties and fermenting techniques. The words had gone straight over Cliff's head as he gave what he thought were convincing nods, and the more he drank, the less they had made sense. All of the wines started tasting rather similar after a while, and the name of each variety were forgotten with an absentminded nod as he finished the sample. There was a nagging fear in the back of his mind that he should be taking notes, but everything Duke was saying sounded the same anyway. He had been left every drunk on an empty stomach and when Manna saw Cliff report to work the next morning, all she had to do was see the look on his face before she sent him straight back to the inn with pay, admonishing Duke loudly the entire time.
Manna's words came back into focus. "This poor boy's been through enough already, what with being bedridden." She ignored Cliff's blanched face. "Just because he's been approved to work, I'm not going to send him home feeling worn out and sick. It's our responsibility as his employers! And we agreed, he's an honorary member of the Cava family and I intend to treat him as such. If he's going to sample the product, I'm not about to have him get ill again! We have to look after our-"
Cliff interrupted, flinching as he did so. "I-it's really my fault! I didn't know I wasn't supposed to be sucking down everything he gave me."
He hadn't been given the best example, and the glasses Duke had been pouring for himself were a little larger than Cliff's. He had been fine drinking them all himself as he gave the tasting notes.
Duke erupted in a raucous laugh at Cliff's terminology. "Well, now that I know he doesn't have an iron liver – at least not yet – and..." - Duke looked at Manna with raised brows - "We have to be careful with him for the time being, I'm not going to get him drunk."
Manna's eyes moved toward the clock. "Let's wait until at least lunchtime before we give anything a taste, no?"
"Well, I've been itching to show him the progress we've been making on the sweet potato wine." Duke interjected, giving his wife a keen look.
Their eyes met and Cliff was surprised to see a hint of blush on Manna's cheeks. "Better get to it, then. I need to open the shop for business and get back to the peeling."
Cliff was suddenly aware of the crates of sweet potatoes that still adorned the floor of the shop. A few peeked out from behind the sales counter. He wondered if they had left the task specifically for him to help with since it didn't require heavy lifting.
As Duke guided Cliff out toward the cellar with a solid hand on his back, Manna interrupted them with the clearing of her throat, causing both of them to pause. Her eyes shifted between both of them swiftly before landing on their employee meaningfully. "Do be sure to send Cliff back here later, though, okay?"
Cliff felt an involuntary tightening in his chest and struggled to choke it down, allowing frustration at his work restraints to brew there instead.
"Yeah, yeah, sure." A heavy hand thumping on Cliff's back snapped him back to reality.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading, and my apologies for the delay in this chapter! I've been dealing with some personal stuff including the loss of my parents' cat that I grew up with. I'm happy to get back into writing, though.
I initially wanted to keep this chapter and the next together, but the word count was getting high enough as it was and I didn't want things to get lost in a big chunk of text. I'm eager to show Cliff at work again, but I wanted to show where everyone's mental state is at during this point. I'm eager to get into writing more lighthearted moments with him, but I also wanted to do my own take on his hospitalization event. It always kinda bothered me in the games that Cliff was magically healed from his trauma after sharing his past with the main character. I do like that he makes changes and opens up, but in real life, it's not that simple and the process isn't that fast. To be fair, the game is pretty old and I'm thrilled that they even got an NPC to make as many changes as he did. I also understand that this is just a fan fiction and doesn't have to be completely realistic, but as someone who has mental illness, I wanted to show that it's not something that automatically "goes away" or is "cured". There are good days and bad days. That being said, Cliff is making progress towards viewing life in a new way and not letting himself remain shackled to the past. "Stretching his wings and preparing to fly", if you will – much like Gray.
Speaking of Gray, I am so glad that his opening up in the last chapter went over so well. I had a lot of emotions when I was writing it, and I'm so honored that it touched so many people and evoked such strong feelings. As we can see, a lot of these characters are working towards bettering themselves and becoming more open and honest with themselves and those around them.
Betcha weren't expecting Rick to be one of those people! Heheh, he's a character I've been longing to stick back into the story, and he's eager to rekindle his friendship with Claire even if that means Karen's not involved. I hope that I was able to convey through Claire losing her temper that she hasn't really considered his side to the story – she automatically assumed that Karen had been the only one who was wronged. I'm excited for y'all to get to see another side of Rick, and I hope to feature him more in the future. His story about a person being locked in the barn was a callback to one of my days as a "little critter" - the neighbor's grandchild was notorious for tricking me and talked me into the most ridiculous shenanigans.
Thank you again for reading along, and as always, I'm so grateful for the support!
**ADDITIONAL NOTE:
The summer arc rewrite has been completed! I've rewritten events from chapters 59/60 onward during the summer arc and have adjusted for the changes to be carried throughout the story.
Changes include: Claire's tomato harvest, Cliff's income, an introduction to Rick's inventions, and a squabble between Cliff and Gray during Kai's birthday party, some previously deleted scenes, and more!
TLDR: Cliff is employed by Kai to get smoked fish for the Fireworks Festival and Claire works with Rick to come up with "The Tomato Tube" - an invention to streamline the harvesting of crops. Cliff confronts Gray over the way he let down Claire, and Kai acts as a mediator to help them reach a better understanding. :) We also get a little bit of lore on the Kappa of the pond! I hope you enjoy! :)