Disclaimer applies.

Notes: Claire is not always as honest of a narrator as she thinks she is.

And just for the record, Kai feels coded as Okinawan to me, not that it affects the story too much.

2. Summer

Summer brought with it Beach Opening Day, and with it the start of tourist season. It seemed to be a popular season for many of the younger folks around town, and an annoyance for the older ones, but one they put up with regardless as a prime source of their income.

For newcomers like Gray, Cliff, and I, who belonged neither to the gaggles of tourists nor quite to the polite, long-suffering locals, I suppose the whole thing was a bit of a spectacle.

I spent that first day on the beach either playing with my puppy in the sands (he was still too young to participate in the yearly competitions that marked the first of the summer festivities), or chatting with Karen and Mary about the latest drama starring that cute young actor, or the series of light novels Mary was a huge fan of. It was pleasant to have a bit of a holiday to ourselves before the real influx of tourists began pouring in throughout the next few weeks, and from time to time I even caught sight of the young man named Kai, mingling and laughing in the gathered crowd. I didn't bother waving to him, however. He was surrounded by girls every time I saw him, and I figured he was unlikely to remember who I was.

Doctor, of course, was not there. He was probably especially busy now, with the first wave of visitors to town already starting to arrive. But I suspected he just hated the crowds. Not that I could blame him!

I decided to check out Kai's Beach House the next morning, after I had finished most of my regular rounds about town. I guess I must have been early; when I got there, the beach was mostly deserted aside from a few early birds.

Still, the sign outside his place read "Open", and when I double-checked the time, it seemed to be all right, so I pushed the door open a crack (the dolphin-shaped chimes hanging out front tinkled merrily as I did so), and looked in.

It was kind of a kitschy little place, painted glaringly white and decorated with wave motifs and all sorts of colorful little trinkets. I have to admit, I loved it. It lent the place a refreshing vibrancy and character, all without being obnoxious. I couldn't help but feel like an excited little girl on her first family outing. No wonder the kids loved him.

The owner, however, was nowhere to be seen.

I heard him soon enough, though, shouting angrily in the back. Apparently he was on the phone.

I turned to leave, thinking it would be better to come back later, when I heard a voice calling out for me. I looked back to see Kai ducking through the curtain divider that led to the kitchen.

"Oh hey! Claire, isn't it? You came!"

A part of me was deeply flattered that he not only recognized me, but already remembered my name.

"Yup," I replied, smiling. "As soon as I could. You got me hooked."

"So I did, did I?" He laughed, then made a face. "Sorry you had to witness that, though." He jerked a thumb towards the back. "Not quite the first impression I wanted to make!"

"It's all right," I assured him. After a brief moment's hesitation -- I've never been good at defusing these potentially awkward situations -- I decided to brave it and asked, "An ex?"

"Oh nah, just my old man." He made another face. "I don't really get along with my family. It's why I left in the first place." He gestured me to a seat at the bar, then slid into the spot beside me. "Lately though, they keep trying to get me to drag my ass back home."

"Oh dear."

"Yeah. Most people tell me I oughta just go back for a visit, make up with them or something. Hell if I'm ever going to return to that shithole though." A thought occurred to him. "Er, you don't think I ought to mend fences, do you?"

I suppose it would have been the proper thing to say in most circumstances. I'd certainly heard similar sentiments enough times myself, often from complete strangers who really had no business butting in. Even now I could still hear their mild accusatory tones, chiding me about duty, responsibility, filial piety, the ungratefulness of children.

So instead, I answered honestly, "Not really. Not unless you want to." The next words slipped from my mouth before I could even consider them properly. "To tell the truth, I don't get along with my parents either. They're divorced, actually. Haven't spoken to my dad in years, and I avoid contact with my mother if I can help it."

"Ah, a kindred soul then." The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

"I guess so. Though at least my mother doesn't try to track me down everywhere I go!"

"Hahaha, that's true!"

The first customers of the day began to trickle in then, and he excused himself.

I think he was right, though, in a way. We were not so similar when it came to personality -- he laughed and joked easily with his customers, snapping back at the occasional rude ones with deceptively jaunty charm. So free and easy and open a person was rare to behold. Whereas I -- even now I struggled to truly open myself up to others. I avoided social situations I felt helpless dealing with, and put on a bland, smiling mask when confronted with those I could not avoid. In fact, I had not spoken of my parents or revealed any of my past to anyone in some years. It was a part of myself I did not like to share -- not really out of any sense of shame or social stigma on my part, but because topics like these always tended to make other people uncomfortable. That and I didn't really enjoy the feeling of other people knowing too much about me, as if they had some sort of invisible hold on me that I could not control.

And yet we were drawn to each other somehow, Kai and I. I don't know what he saw in me, but I kept going back to that little shop, day after day, just to chat. I soon found out that he loved pineapples, and bought a packet of seeds from Won next door to give a try at growing them. In return, he liked to surprise me with little souvenirs from all the places his travels had taken him to.

I think I half believed it, that we were kindred souls, two restless wanderers who neither controlled nor could be controlled, living in a world that could not contain us.

o-o-o

The next time I dropped by the clinic, it was Elli who greeted me.

"Hello, Claire. How's the farm? Oh, by the way, the doctor said he wants to give you something. He's been waiting for you!"

"Um, what is it?" I asked, still wary after the hangover incident. Doctor, true to his word, had not spoken a word about testing new medicines to me ever since. Though I was glad I no longer had to worry about getting inadvertently poisoned, a part of me was disappointed. In truth, I missed those strange, meandering conversations and companionable silences we had shared just weeks ago. But there was so little time these days. Often I would rush into the clinic and dash right back out after a quick hello and dropping off my gift of the day. Sometimes I didn't even see Doctor in person for days. After all, I reasoned, I was busy tending the fields, watching over my animals, and negotiating with the carpenter Gotz about expanding my house and the other buildings on the property, and Doctor was busy with his studies and his patients. I hadn't even dropped by the library in some time now. I'd borrowed a few books to read at my own leisure at home; they were probably long overdue, but Mary was too kind to push me about them. (I hated taking advantage of her like that, so I made a mental note to return them as soon as possible.)

Elli laughed, though. Was it just me, or had she loosened up towards me now that I spent less time at the clinic than before? "Oh, don't worry! It's something good this time, trust me. Even I want one myself!"

I wasn't sure I found that any more reassuring, but my curiosity was piqued.

I found Doctor bent over his work as usual, a frown etched deep in his face. But when he looked up upon hearing my approach, his expression brightened immediately, though he did not quite break into a smile.

"There you are! You know I've been obsessed with experimental medicine lately, but now I think I've been looking in the wrong direction entirely. One of my old schoolmates -- he was ahead of me by a year at the university -- sent me this interesting device a while ago. He said it's quite popular in the city right now. Very different from conventional medicine, but it appears to work quite well."

"A device...?"

"Yes," said Doctor, taking out this big blue... thing from his desk drawer.

I will not confess to the very inappropriate association that flashed across my mind at that moment. (It really did bear an unfortunate resemblance. There are very few devices shaped in quite that same awkward form, and for a moment I literally did a double take, not sure if he were really about to suggest what I thought he was about to suggest...)

Doctor either did not notice or else completely misinterpreted the blush that arose on my face.

"It's called an Ion Conductor -- used as an aid in the Negative Ion Therapy my schoolmate's been promoting. Supposedly if you keep it with you, it helps you relax."

He immediately launched into a long and convoluted explanation about ions and the similarly relaxing atmosphere in the mountains, and the strange changes that occur in the cellular structure of ancient trees, and... something.

I couldn't really concentrate on his explanation, distracted as I was by the dirty, dirty thoughts I was having at the moment.

"Do you... like it?" he asked, somewhat anxiously.

There was no way I could answer that with a straight face.

He said then, subdued, "I... I thought it was the least I could do. After last time..."

"Oh -- oh. I do like it. Very much. It seems very interesting!" I hated the way I sounded, girlish and phony and stupid. How could I tell him just how touched I was at his gesture -- how much I missed talking to him about things like the local legends of the Harvest Goddess, or the relationship between soil chemistry and yearly rainfall, or the difficulties of catching fish with your bare hands, and the history and uses of the various medicinal herbs that grew in the area. That I really hadn't minded, being his test subject. (Why couldn't we have just laughed off the incident and left it at that, I wondered?) And that his gift was really kind of suggestive in all the wrong ways and in any other situation it might have been hilarious, but now, now...

"I'll go home now and try it right away!"

I said that, blushing madly all the while, but when I got home, I stuffed it deep inside a trunk of old clothing I had brought from my old apartment and promptly forgot about it.

o-o-o

I was utterly unprepared for the typhoon that struck about a week later. There had been warnings on the nightly weather report, to be sure, and yet -- I must have gotten cocky about my smooth success up to that point. Oh, I'd made the basic preparations we were all schooled in from day one, setting aside a radio, flashlights and batteries, bottled water and non-perishables. I'd made sure to lock in my animals and secure my tools in the shed, even covered my more delicate crops with tarp.

When the storm hit, I huddled in my covers in the darkness with my shivering puppy, listening to the house shake all around me, hoping that my uncovered crops would not receive too much damage.

No amount of preparation could have steeled me, however, for the sight that awaited me when it was next safe to venture out.

I learned later that it was not even a major typhoon. I'd always understood, intellectually, the terrifying, destructive power of nature. But it was the first time I'd truly witnessed it firsthand.

The next few days passed in a blur of mud and debris and sun, shining cruel and hot overhead. In all my obsessive planning, I had failed to account for contingencies such as this. A stupid, stupid oversight, though there was nothing I could do about it now. Nothing but do everything I could to set things right again. If I ended up in debt by the year's end -- I refused to let myself think about what would happen then.

It was like starting over again from square one, except worse. I was lucky that the barn, stable, and coop were relatively untouched, indescribably relieved to see my animals upset but unharmed. But there were fences to be repaired, seedlings to be rescued, rocks and scattered branches to remove. Some of the damage could not be undone; the small patch of pineapples, for instance, was unsalvageable. Other areas of the field were so badly flooded despite the constant post-storm sunshine that I could not reuse them. Worst of all was the seawater that had accumulated, not only in the fields, but my well. I did not have the means to easily drain the salt from the soil; all I could do was ascend the mountain each day for buckets of water from the lake or the Goddess Spring and do what I could by hand.

And, well, it wasn't so much that I forgot to eat as I simply lost all appetite for food, and even the energy to care. There was simply no time.

Not until Friday did it occur to me that I had not visited Kai in some time, and I realized that I owed him an explanation and apology for my long absence, though he'd probably pieced it together already anyway. Like I said, news traveled fast, and Zack the deliveryman had already been over earlier that week to survey the damage and offer his sympathies. My farm hadn't been the only one hit badly. In fact, Kai's diner had probably suffered for a while as well; there probably wouldn't be many tourists around anymore for some time.

I forced myself away from my work and made my way blearily down to the beach. The sand, normally gleaming white, was peppered with kelp and driftwood, and some stranger things, a car tire here, a smashed watermelon there, cardboard and styrofoam tangled with ribbon. I noted vaguely that my hands were blistered and raw, worse than they had been even when I'd first started out on the farm. My vision seemed to flash with every step, but I ignored both that and the throbbing headache that had been plaguing me since noon. It was just a quick visit before I went back to work, after all. A glass of ice water in the cool air-conditioning of Kai's diner would do wonders.

He was taking a smoke break on the bench outside, as he usually did after the busy lunch hour, and greeted me with a smile and a wave.

It wasn't until I heard him shout, "Claire!" that I realized that my knees had given way under me.

o-o-o

I drifted in and out of awareness, barely conscious of my feet stumbling down the street. A surge of cool air against the heat rising from the pavement. Kai's wide, callused hands holding me steady. A pair of dry, cooler hands brushing aside the hair on my forehead with a firm, practiced touch. I closed my eyes.

"Heat exhaustion," I heard someone saying after a while.

" -- be okay?"

" -- heat wave the past few days. She's not the first --"

Ah, Doctor. Of course.

I opened my eyes again, feeling my head begin to clear. Doctor was speaking with Kai. I tried standing, but another wave of dizziness overcame me. They both looked over at the clatter, and Kai rushed to my side with a look of concern on his face.

"Take it easy, now. Doc says you'll be fine, you just need some rest."

"That's right," said Doctor, without a single hint of emotion in his voice. "A healthy meal and some sleep. No more work today."

I opened my mouth to protest. "But --"

"No buts." With that he turned and retreated through the curtain separating his office space from the sickbed.

Kai clasped my hands in his own. "Feeling better?"

I nodded.

He seemed unconvinced, for he did not let go.

"You've probably been pushing yourself because of the typhoon. It happens. But don't forget it's okay to ask for help sometimes, all right? You're always working so hard on your own all the time. You deserve a break every now and then, yeah?"

I nodded again. I didn't trust myself to answer.

He patted my shoulder. "Cheer up, okay? I hate to see you getting down on yourself like this. Oh -- I know! Here." He reached behind his head to untie a pendant hanging about his neck.

It was an iridescent shell charm, chipped and worn smooth over time, still warm to the touch.

"My lucky charm," he explained. "I brought it along with me as a keepsake of my hometown. But I'd like you to have it now."

I looked at him, both startled and touched. "I couldn't possibly..."

"Nah, it's all right." His eyes crinkled in a grin. "I'm a pretty lucky guy by nature, so I don't really need it!"

He must have known that wasn't what I meant, but I did not press the issue.

"Thank you, Kai," I whispered, running my fingers over and around the shell.

I think he understood that I wasn't talking about just the charm, and that it was about all I could voice out loud at the moment. He gestured for me to turn around. I did so, and he brushed the hair away from my nape and tied the charm for me.

He smelled of oranges and cigarettes and the sea.

"There you go," he said. "Promise me you'll rest well now, 'kay?"

I promised.

o-o-o

I still remember the first time I failed a test at school. I'd always been at the top of my class, all the way through elementary school and junior high. In the high school entrance exams I'd placed sixth in the nation, and I ended up going to the best school in my district.

I'm not sure what happened then. Maybe the pressure finally got to me, or maybe I simply started losing interest in keeping up the pretense of being a good student. I'd never had to struggle to maintain my grades, and it was the same in high school -- except one day I walked into class on the morning of an important exam and realized that I hadn't been paying attention to lectures in months.

When the test results came out the following week, I knew, even before I looked at the bulletin, from the whispers of my classmates and the teachers' awkward glances, that I'd bombed it.

I was called in for conference after conference, grilled on the details of my personal life (was I having family troubles? boyfriend problems? had I taken up with a bad crowd?), but in the end the teachers were left as puzzled about it as I. In the end it was waved aside as an anomaly, given my previous unblemished record. They didn't even call my mother in, and soon enough the incident was forgotten.

I remembered. I remembered, when I saw that watermelon lying smashed on the beach, glistening red juice trickling from beneath the cracked shell, sticky against dark sand, seeded flesh already beginning to rot under the relentless sun.

o-o-o

After Kai left, I lay back down, listening to the low hum of the air conditioner, the ticking of the clock, the creaking of the chair and the scratching of a pen in the room next to me. Eventually, the soft tones of a woman's voice disrupted the relative silence. Another creak, footsteps. I climbed out of bed and peeked through the curtains.

Sure enough, Doctor was gone. Another quick look confirmed that he had either gone out or upstairs with Elli to retrieve something.

I slipped quietly through his office and out the front door.

o-o-o

Karen had, sometime before the beginning of summer, declared Friday night to be Ladies' Night Out. It was usually just Karen, Mary, and I, and occasionally Ann, when she wasn't too busy busing tables. After summer started, Kai came down from his room to join us sometimes, but a brief scan of the room revealed that tonight he had turned in early.

A dash of guilt struck me, but I ignored it.

Mary greeted me with a worried look on her face. "Good evening, Claire. Are you sure it's okay for you to be here?"

I wondered how many people had already heard of what had happened. I tried to remember how many people had been at the beach at the time -- before recalling that I had so conveniently timed my collapse to coincide with gossip hour at Rose Plaza.

But I smiled and shook my head. "It's all right. I'm not planning to get wasted tonight."

I definitely didn't want a repeat of my birthday, as entertaining as it had been. Some parts of it, anyway.

And it wasn't like spending the night hanging out with friends constituted work.

Karen, though, had apparently gotten a head start already. "Aw, come on, Claire. Just a little sip or two shouldn't hurt, right?"

I probably should have known better to agree.

o-o-o

"I wonder why I even came here."

I wasn't that drunk, but the words burst out from me without warning regardless, more bitter than I had intended -- the first thing I had really said all evening.

Karen grew uncharacteristically quiet. Mary, ever sensitive to the atmosphere, hurriedly said, "If you'd rather head back..."

"Not here. Here. This town." I gestured at the rest of the room. "I shouldn't have come. I don't know what I was thinking. It would have been easier to deal with all the crap back in the city."

"Is that what you thought?" Karen snapped. "That you could just saunter in here, take it easy, make a comfy little life for yourself --"

"Karen..."

"Of course not," I said, rather heatedly. "I knew farm life would be difficult. I knew the risks it entailed. But how the hell was I supposed to know I was going to be taking over -- that, that dump of a place?"

"Oh, you knew, did you? Easy for you to say. Until now, you haven't run into any real problems, have you? And now, at the first sign of trouble, you're just gonna bolt? Do you have any idea how much everyone else's lost too? Down at the chicken farm a whole coop of newborn chicks got blown away in the storm, just like that! Even the store -- half our shipments from last week were destroyed!"

"That's not what I meant --"

"You know what? If you want to leave, why don't you? Why don't you just get out of here and go back to your big city, wherever the hell it is you came from? We don't need someone like you here. You can just up and leave whenever the hell you want anyway, can't you? Just ask Kai to take you with him!"

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Ann hurrying over to break up our fight, but Karen was already storming off.

I slumped and stared stonily at my glass.

For some reason, Mary did not leave, but instead hovered nervously at my side. "Umm, Claire?"

"What?"

She hesitated again. "This probably isn't what you want to hear at the moment, but... even though Karen was a bit out of bounds there, um. So were you."

When I didn't reply, she continued, "Um, she didn't really mean that, though. What she said. It's just... she's always wanted to leave town herself. She's always dreamed of going to school in the city. To study music, you know?"

I looked up. "I didn't realize..."

"When Aja left four years ago, Karen was going to go with her. She'd applied to a few schools in secret, and actually got accepted. But the night before, her parents caught her sneaking out. Sasha ripped up the acceptance letter."

"Sasha did?" Karen's mother -- cool, collected, ever-sensible Sasha -- had never struck me as the type to do something like that.

"Well, it wasn't Sasha's fault either. Just... a heat of the moment thing. They've always wanted Karen to inherit the store, you see? And when they found out that Karen had just been planning to leave without even a word, I imagine they must have been pretty hurt."

Oh, Mary. Sweet Mary with her novelist's keen eye for human relationships and quiet way with words.

"In the end, though, it was Karen herself who decided to stay."

With that closing remark, she excused herself, leaving me alone to mull over everything I had learned.

o-o-o

I left the inn earlier than I usually did. By the time I reached my house, the sun was beginning to set at last.

Someone was waiting at my doorstep, half-cloaked by the dim shadows of dusk. Zack, perhaps? But Zack should have left with the day's shipment hours ago.

As I approached, I realized that it was Doctor.

My footsteps slowed.

He was staring into space, absently petting my puppy, who had apparently wandered over to play and was now dozing in his lap.

"Doctor?"

He blinked and looked up at me. "Where have you been?" he demanded quietly.

I dared not ask how long he had been waiting there.

"None of your business," I muttered, and tried to maneuver my way past him to the door.

He stood with surprising agility for a man with a dog in his arms and grabbed my wrist as I reached out for the knob.

"You slipped out when I wasn't paying attention. While you were supposed to be under my care. How is that none of my business?"

"I was feeling better."

"I should have been the judge of that. Not you."

I tugged my wrist from his grasp in a single vicious movement. His arm dropped back down to his side. "I think I can tell whether or not I'm feeling well perfectly fine on my own."

"Can you really?" He stooped and set down my puppy before rising to face me again. His voice was colder than I had ever heard it. But soon the rising edge of anger in his tone became unmistakable. "You need to take better care of yourself! What will you do if you just collapse in the middle of the fields one day, with no one around to call for help? You're lucky Kai was around today, but next time, you may not be so lucky!"

The shell charm burned against my chest. I reached for the knob again. As I did so, I tripped over a brown paper bag that had been sitting to the side. A carefully prepared dinner box slid out as I steadied myself against the wall.

The instant I saw it, I knew.

"Claire?"

Was I crying? Damn it. Damn it.

There was nowhere to run.

"Claire --"

I felt his arms reach out and fold me into an awkward embrace that smelled of coffee and dog. I stood there, stiff and unresponsive, trembling in my effort to keep myself under control, fighting a silent losing battle against my tears.

But he did not let go.

"If you are -- still upset with me, tell me," he said, every word clearly costing him a great deal of effort. "If there is anything I can do..."

I shook my head. "No -- I never -- " Another wave of tears muffled my voice against his chest. "I was never upset with you."

"I thought -- I thought you would never forgive me."

"I didn't -- I wasn't mad."

He fell silent, as if processing my words and attempting to reanalyze my actions over the past few weeks in light of this new information.

At last he said, "I've been... worried about you lately. Especially since you live alone... I know how easy it is to bury yourself in your work, forget to eat..."

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm sorry I made you worry. Sorry I made you come all the way down here --" I knew I was babbling again, but didn't care.

"It's only natural," he said, then hesitated. "After all, we're -- friends, aren't we?" He spoke wonderingly, as if he had never even thought it possible for a man like him to have someone he could consider a friend at all.

I wiped the last of the tears from my face, and pushed him gently away. He stepped back, still watching me intently, waiting for an answer.

"Yes," I said, and smiled. "Friends."

And if his answering smile branded itself into my heart far deeper than that of any normal friend's smile, I did not say so, or let myself dwell on it.

o-o-o

I went to make up with Karen first thing the next morning, apologizing for my insensitivity. She seemed pretty embarrassed about her outburst herself... but one well-timed mix-up between her father and a customer over incorrect pricing and a round of shared laughter later, we managed to put the previous night all behind us.

As for Doctor, I started dropping by the clinic regularly again. For the first few weeks afterwards, he insisted on giving me daily checkups, but soon enough we settled back into our old patterns. Back to normal. I cannot express how glad I was that all traces of that awkwardness that had been lingering between us since the incident in spring seemed to have disappeared for good. I even managed to slip teasing hints to him about that Negative Ion thing he'd given me. (So funny to see the man blush as the realization of just what that thing resembled slowly dawned on him!)

Summer was swiftly drawing to a close. On the morning of Kai's birthday, I headed down to the beach. When I got there, however, I could not find him anywhere near his usual bench.

After a few minutes of searching, I finally found him at the docks, gazing out towards the sea. I called out to him, and when he turned and saw me, he grinned.

"Hey, Claire. How's the farm?"

He asked me that every day, and I replied as I always did. "Getting back on track." Then I grinned back. "Happy birthday, by the way." I presented him with the gift I had prepared: a bandanna with a ridiculous pineapple print that Zack had found for me on sale in the next town.

"Aw, thanks!" he replied, laughing, and immediately tried on the new bandanna. "Let me guess, Popuri told you?" He struck a silly pose. "How does it look?"

"Yup. She'll probably be by later with her own gift. And it looks very dashing."

We spent the next few minutes laughing at each other and tossing stones at the waves.

But something seemed off about the mood that morning, and I had my own suspicions why.

"And you?" I asked after a while. "How are things with your shop?"

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, the customers are dwindling now that there's only a week or so left of summer..."

Only a week or so before he left town for the next stop on his itinerary. Somewhere south, somewhere warm, he'd said once. But neither of us voiced it out loud now.

"You know," he said then. "I've been wondering for a while... I know a lot of folks in town don't like me much. I can't help it, you know? I'm just living my life the way I want to. But... doesn't it ever bother you? What they must think about you spending so much time with me, especially when you're new to the place and all? I mean, the ladies -- they love their gossip, you know. And I don't care what they think about me myself, but..."

"I don't spend nearly as much time around your place as Popuri does," I pointed out. Rick ranted about it so often that even Karen was fed up with it.

"Haha, true!"

"Seriously though, I don't mind. No point in letting what others think dictate the way I choose to spend my time."

"Ah, now that's the spirit."

We watched a pair of seagulls chase each other through the air, wheeling across the sky and over the sea.

"I wonder what made you decide to come to a place like this," he said. "It's a nice town and all, but there are plenty of other interesting places out there, you know? To live here all year long, doing the same things every week, listening to the same idle chatter day in and day out... I don't think I could stand it."

I was quiet for some time. "I'm not sure," I admitted. "It was the same, back in the city. I guess I thought maybe I ought to try something different. I thought maybe something would change, then."

One of the gulls screeched and danced away, having stolen the other's fish.

"I ought to take you out of here one of these days," said Kai. "See the world and all it has to offer."

"I can't just leave my fields to the weeds and the crows," I said, about to laugh it off as a joke, when I realized he was serious.

"You don't have to answer right away. It doesn't even have to be this year. Just... think about it, okay? I think you'd enjoy it."

He could not have known -- just what he was offering me in that one moment.

Perhaps even I did not know, myself.

o-o-o

That night I dreamed I was toiling in endless rolling fields of rice. Rice fields are flat, and I didn't even grow rice -- the local climate and terrain were unsuited for it -- but that didn't matter in my dream.

The sun was blazing overhead, and sweat poured down my face and back despite my straw hat.

Someone called for me, and I stood, wiping my hands on the front of my overalls. I flew across the vast expanse of fields, higher and higher until the neat green rows of seedlings turned into watery square patches stretched across the land, swirling into a burst of color and light.

That was when I realized that I wasn't actually rising -- but sinking. The water distorted my vision. Trees swayed upside down in the distance. The fish I had caught earlier that evening for dinner swam back and forth before my face, eyeing me balefully.

I woke gasping for breath.

o-o-o

The fireworks marking the end of the season were by far the most anticipated event of the summer. As the day drew near, the entire town grew abuzz with excitement. There were even a bunch of late-season tourists who had come especially for this night. I didn't really get the appeal myself, personally. I suppose it is entertaining to watch a bunch of chemicals exploding in pretty colors in the sky, but people put up firework displays every year, anywhere you go.

I started the evening hanging out with Mary and Karen as usual. Karen, at least, was as giddy as a little kid, and seeing her so excited made even me start looking forward to the show. When Rick arrived with his family, however, she ran off to reminisce happily with him about all the different displays they had seen over the years. I envied them somewhat. They had lived here all their lives, and yet could still find such joy and delight in simple things like this.

Mary was the next to go, after Gray arrived with Saibara from the smithy's. Gray approached us awkwardly, mumbling something about watching the fireworks together since his grandfather wasn't really interested in things like this (which was plainly untrue -- I could see old Saibara gesturing excitedly at Elli's grandmother Ellen some distance down the beach). Mary ducked her head and accepted his invitation. I watched them head off together with a smile. With those two, it was sometimes like watching a competition to see whose face could become redder, or who could stammer the most... I wished them all the best.

Doctor was nowhere in sight, as expected, though I had half wondered if he might not show up with Rick's family or with Elli's, or even strange young Pastor Carter from the church.

Instead I joined up with Kai and Popuri, who both welcomed me enthusiastically. Popuri was quizzing him about the places he'd been to, asking about the kinds of fireworks they put up, and if they were any different from our town's, and where and when he'd seen his favorite display. That girl was a serious challenge to keep up with (Kai managed quite easily, whereas I had to struggle), but I liked her. She reminded me of my own little sister.

It was growing darker. Kai suggested that we move in closer for a better view, and we readily agreed.

As we drew closer to the crowd, I caught sight of a familiar dark head bobbing down the steps from the plaza in the distance. I excused myself from Kai and Popuri, and without thinking, broke into a run.

"Doctor!"

At the sound of my voice, he turned and smiled.

"You're late," I said, when I managed to catch my breath.

"Yes, I was finishing up some work at the clinic."

We stood there, grinning at each other like idiots. Then, in tacit agreement, we began to walk again, side by side. We wandered here and there, waving and nodding at the people who called out to us in greeting.

In time, we found ourselves alone at the docks. A piercing whistle sounded, signaling the start of the fireworks. I kicked off my shoes and sat down at the edge of the pier, dangling my bare feet over the water; Doctor sat down beside me, though he kept his shoes on. The breeze ruffled his hair; I had to resist the urge to reach out and pat it down.

The colors of the fireworks bled into the inky night sky, more vibrant than any other display I had ever seen. Each flash lit up the dark waves, like strange, crystallized moments in time.

Strange, how clear everything seemed in those moments between darkness and light.

o-o-o

The night before he was set to leave, I found Kai strolling along the edge of the sea. I hurried to catch up to him. The surf brushed against my face, salty and cool.

When he noticed me, he stopped, waiting.

"Done packing already?" I asked when I reached him.

"Yeah. Don't have much to take with me, see." He shrugged and grinned.

I hesitated. "About what we talked about the other day..."

He waited.

"I think..." I stopped again, struggling for the words. "It's not all that bad sometimes, tying yourself down to one place, one community, one set of familiar faces. It's not always -- a burden. At least -- I think I'd like to give it a try. Just this once. I've never really given myself fully to anything before. I'd like to try -- and see what happens."

He nodded slowly, understanding.

I reached in the pocket of my overalls for the shell charm he had given me. "I think... I should give this back to you."

But he shook his head, reached out and closed my fingers around it.

"I told you, didn't I?" he said with a wry grin. "I don't need it. I'm a lucky guy."

There didn't seem to be much left to say after that.

As I walked away, he suddenly called out after me. "My offer still stands, you know! Should you ever change your mind -- "

I turned. "Thank you, Kai. Thank you --"

I don't know if he heard me, but he smiled and waved, and I knew then that it was over.

It was not farewell. We both knew we'd meet each other again. We'd see each other next year, and the year after that, and maybe even the year again after -- but who could say what kind of people we would have become by then? Perhaps one of us would have changed, perhaps both, perhaps neither.

But we would never again be as we were tonight, Kai and Claire at the edge of the sea, with the whole world lying before us.