In My Life

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Mineral Town was a true quaint beauty. This tiny town was nestled in the glorious mountains surrounding Mother's Hill, the highest pinnacle for miles. Many people came and went, blurting their "oohs" and "ahhs", but only a few called it home. And whether or not they all wanted to, everybody knew everything about everybody else's affairs.

Makoto sort of nodded as Thomas went on about the town, when it was founded, the first residents, and whatnot. For what seemed to be too long as they cut through Mother's Hill and back, he continued telling him stories about the great people that Mineral Town's ever seen, and of course, the old man was one of them.

Thomas turned enthusiastically to Makoto.

"Anyways, where would you like begin? We can head towards the beach, or just straight ahead to the north end of town?" he asked with a fluffy smile. When Makoto didn't reply, Thomas felt something amiss, and turned to look at him.

Makoto held his left palm over his right forearm, near his elbow.

"Umm… the fence cut me…" he pointed to a jagged piece of wood protruding from the fence of the farm.

"Let me see, Makoto."

Makoto lifted his hand to reveal what has to be the most ludicrously endless gush of blood.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" Thomas let out a gratuitous shriek, shooting his hands in front of his face. His bugged eyes suddenly met Makoto's cold ones, somehow cooling the Mayor down a bit.

"I guess…" Thomas said with a sigh. "Our first stop should be the clinic."

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A young, short-haired brunette stood behind the reception desk at the clinic, jotting down something or another as she sighed, leaning her face against her hand. Another boring day at the Mineral Clinic… until the doors burst open. Thomas was having an absolute shitfest in the middle of the Clinic, grasping Makoto by the arm. The receptionist looked up, absolutely boggled.

"DEAR GOD!! HELP THIS BOY!!! HE'S GOING TO DIE!!!" Thomas screamed, falling to his knees.

Makoto, still grasping his arm, exchanged a strange look with the receptionist. He turned to look down at Thomas. The receptionist looked over at Makoto.

"Is there something the matter?" she asked him sweetly.

Makoto shook his head, turning to Thomas, who was now weeping on the floor.

"Why'd you bring me here? I'll be fine!"

"HOW CAN YOU JUST SIT THERE IGNORING THAT!?!?" he cried.

The receptionist noticed Makoto covering his arm, and shot him a quick glare.

"Move your hand, please."

Makoto did so, and the rivers of blood practically dying to gush out from the long gash.

"How are you fine?? You're bleeding profusely!"

Without another word, she grabbed Makoto's arm and laid it over the desk. Makoto watched as she cleaned the wound, and wrapped it up in a bandage. Then she smiled back up at Makoto.

"All done!" she announced.

Makoto looked at his arm, and looked back at her. She had soulful brown eyes set on a pale face. Nodding, he reached into his pocket.

"No need to pay, now," another voice said from behind. Everyone turned to see the doctor at the clinic, hands shoved into his lab coat pockets. He MUST have been standing there the whole time as he was nodding approvingly of the job his nurse had done. He looked young: but his career as a doctor left his age rather ambiguous. His shorn black hair hung into his face, and his eyes were much like Makoto's… gray and frosty. His gaze was fixed on Makoto.

"So you're the Sergeant?" the Doctor extended a hand. "I'm the Doctor."

Makoto took his hand and shook it.

"Well, we should get you started out on your medical records and all. Stop by tomorrow."

Thomas looked at his watch, and gave Makoto a tug.

"C'mon now, boy, let's go!"

Makoto nodded, taking off after Thomas, and, looking quickly over his shoulder to see the receptionist waving to him as he left.

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Later on, Makoto found himself back at the farm, sifting through an old, creaky tool chest in the corner of the hole in the wall he had to call a house. The tools all looked equally crappy as he contemplated with pile of rust wouldn't absolutely disintegrate first. He decided to grab them all and head outside. As he stepped onto the shaded porch, he noticed a man that towered over himself, finally, and had a build like a tank. His brown hair was cropped into a vertical brush-cut, which stood out for miles away. He tugged at a towel around his neck as he looked around.

"Now… where is the Sergeant…?"

Makoto motioned, sticking out his hand.

"Over here!"

The burly man spun around.

"Ah! There you are! Come out over here, I wanna meet you!"

Makoto, tools in hand, emerged from the porch. The burly man tugged at his towel a bit as he wasted no time for his introductions.

"I'm Zack, and if you wanna make a profit, then I'm your man!" Zack turned and pointed to a large, wooden crate, nailed into the ground. "Just put anything in there you want to ship. I'll come pick it up every working day at five… that's every WORKING day. I need some time off too, likewise everyone else, eh?"

Makoto nodded, for once having to look up at someone's face.

"You can start off by foraging up by Mother's Hill. Maybe one day you can ask Basil to teach you about the herbs up there, or read up on it or something. Zack looked over Makoto's shoulder at an apple tree. "By the way, you can sell some honey from that bee's hive too."

Makoto nodded again.

"Interesting. I'll keep that in mind."

Zack cocked his head a bit, but continued.

"Okay then! I'll come around at five!"

Zack left, and Makoto went about his foraging and clearing business. He worked late into the night, clearing as much as he could with mostly his own raw strength. When he had returned inside, he thought he had heard a leaking noise coming from the basement. Come to think of it, most leaking noises should be associated with the basement. Running downstairs as quickly as possible, and much to his horror and dismay, he saw that a pipe had burst. This led to another sleepless night as Makoto toiled away to fix it.

"I'm not even too sure why the old man wanted me to take over his farm. The wacko… then he wants me to fit in with the villagers? They all call me Sergeant, and I don't like it. I'm trying to leave that behind, and they won't let it go."

-From Makoto's Journal

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Onto Part 3.