Sitting on the shipping box in front of his grandpa's house, Jack sighed deeply and gazed listlessly at the dirt in front of him. He was going home that day, and he was less than thrilled, especially after seeing his father's annoyed expression when he had come onto the ranch. At first, the young boy had chattered on about all the things he had done; picking crops, climbing trees, brushing cows, getting lost in the woods, and even how he had lost a tooth from falling off a fence. What Grandpa had found amusing though, his father seemed to find unsettling, barely responding to his son's stories besides a few grunts. In fact he paid less attention to the five year old then he did to his own father, giving him several intent looks as the boy spun his tale.

"I wanna be a farmer like Gram'pa when I grow up," he proudly proclaimed, gazing at the old man affectionately, who smiled back though his expression seemed solemn for some reason.

It wasn't until little Jack had been asked to wait outside that he realized something was wrong; maybe he shouldn't have told his dad about getting lost. He didn't want his grandpa to get in trouble, and he definitely didn't want to ruin his chances of coming back next summer.

Kicking his feet, he listened to his heels hit the wood of the box with dull 'thunks,' wondering how much longer his dad would be; as much as he would have preferred to stay on the ranch, Jack was growing restless just waiting around. When he was about to hop down and go bother the cows, the door to the house swung open with the two men's raised voices filtering out. Turning, Jack slid off his seat, immediately feeling a heavy pit of anxiety in his stomach; why were yelling? Was it because of his tooth? Or maybe him getting lost? Why did Grandpa look so sad and his Dad so mad?

Gulping he hurried over to his father who was gripping his son's duffle bag, "D-dad-"

"We're leaving now, Jackson."

"B-b-but...can't I say-"

"We're going to miss our ferry, Jackson. You can call him when you get home."

Without looking back, his father reached down and took hold of his son's hand. Jack, unable to wriggle free, looked back over his shoulder at his grandfather who was gazing after them with a look that made the little boy choke up. Was it really his fault that this had happened? Should he have not said anything about getting lost? Would he never be allowed to come back? Panic setting in, Jack turned to his father as hot ears began to stream down his face, "H-he was the one who found me, Daddy! He's the one who f-found me-!"

For several awkward moments, the two men stood in front of each other silently, neither one sure of what to say. Jack had always had a difficult time talking to his father, but now that he was an adult it seemed almost impossible. Glancing at the house, he wished even more that his grandfather was there; he seemed able to ease these awkward moments, at least until his dad became annoyed with something or another. ' "John is just a very serious man with a lot of stress," he would say, "Don't hold it against him, Jack," ...I'm trying not to Grandpa.'

Scratching his forehead, Jack looked back at his father's shoes, racking his brain for something to say. The other man's deep sigh startled Jack before he could come up with anything though, and he was surprised to hear his father speak first.

"Sorry I'm late..."

He sounded like he meant it, voice haggard and solemn. Nodding Jack mumbled, "...I understand..."

John let out another sigh, tucking his hands in pockets, fixing his gaze on the house, which seemed to be a symbol of the late rancher for both father and son.

"...grandpa's already...?"

He knew the answer to the question before he asked, but somehow, Jack understood why he had asked it. '...he needs to hear someone say it out loud...I'm sorry Dad, but I just can't do that for you, not yet...' Swallowing the lump in his throat, he only nodded, looking back at the run down shack of a house too; there were a hand full of villagers who would soon be smothering the business man with condolences. Why should Jack have to be the one to say it out loud?

In the distance, smoke from the bonfire that had been lit in honor of his grandpa could be seen disappearing into the sky. There really was no way to escape it was there? Everywhere Jack looked, there was something shoving his beloved grandfather's death in his face. '...or maybe it's just grandpa himself...trying to tell me what I have to do...' But taking over the ranch? Living where he had lived? Could he really do that on such short notice?

Slowly turning his eyes towards his father's face, he stared at him; as the older man gazed intently on the smoke, it was nearly impossible to tell what he was feeling. He had never spoken very much about his father, even when Jack had demanded to know why he wasn't allowed to go back after only visiting for one summer. Jack remembered that that particular argument had ended with him being grounded for a week. Even now, facing the death of the man who had raised him, John remained distant without a single tear. If he hadn't felt so drained, Jack would have become angry at this realization; why was his father allowed so much time with Grandpa when Jack, barely holding himself together now, was allowed only a single summer, letters, and occasional phone calls? It was most likely going be a thought that would plague him for years, but for now he had no desire to feel more miserable then he already did.

Pulling his thoughts back to what Grandpa had left him, Jack cleared his throat; he should at least discuss this with his father, right? But then again, he knew how that would go; John would tell his son that it was an impossible task, not to mention a foolish one. He would tell Jack to sell the ranch and to find something 'useful' to do with his life. 'Your dream of becoming a farmer is just that, a dream.' Thinking about the words that had been repeated to him since he was a child made his face hot. '...well, even if he is a serious and stressed out man...even if he is my father, he doesn't have a right to control my future.' And with that, Jack made his decision; he would take over that ranch and live there in Mineral Town, just as his grandpa had. Perhaps it was only to spite his father, his way of dealing with the feeling of injustice in having only having spent so little time with the old farmer, but Jack had already decided on his course of action. And once he had made up his mind, it was hard to change, even if it was an impulsive move.

"Dad...Grandpa left the ranch to me," His voice came out much shakier than he wanted, and as his father turned his hardened gaze on him he was barely able to stop from shrinking into himself. "...I'm not surprised. Though I doubt it will sell at a very high price." His answer was expected, but still stung, if only for his grandpa's sake. Gathering up his courage, Jack kept his eyes locked with his father's. "No, Dad...he left it to me. So...I want to run it." As John's eyes narrowed, it took everything Jack had not to look away; as it was, he found his muscles tense as his body prepared for the harsh words that always followed that look.

"...you want to run the ranch?"

"Yes. I do," Jack cringed as his voice cracked.

John squared his jaw, his eyes flickering around the property, which Jack knew wasn't going to help his cause. "Do you realize how run down this place is?" The emphasis he put on 'this place' stung Jack yet again; did his father really have such a low regard for the place where Grandpa had spent his last years?

"I am sure I can handle it," he tried to project an air of confidence that he didn't quite feel.

"Jackson," his father had never called him by his shorter nickname, making any encounter with his son feel like a formal one, "you were only here for a single summer when you were five, and keeping a garden on the windowsill doesn't make you a farmer. Not to mention the numerous repairs you would have to do on the house, the barn, the coop, the stable...and this is all before you bring in any animals!" His voice was growing in volume, and he was making broad hand gestures as he listed all the items that he was certain his son hadn't thought about. Jack was a bit insulted that his father thought so little of him.

"Dad, I know how much work it is going to be-"

"I don't think you do!" The adamant tone in his voice stopped Jack for a moment. "You have no idea what it is like to work day in and day out on the whim of the elements! You never think these sort of things through, you just jump in with no regard to the consequences!" Exhaling, he pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing in a quieter voice. "Where do you even expect to get money to start work on this place? Hm? It's not as if you have tons of gold just lying around to throw around. And what about your life back in the city, Jackson? Are you going to throw all of that away just so you can play farmer for a few seasons?"

Controlling his breath, Jack clenched and unclenched his hands; having a yelling fight with his father would accomplish nothing. If he remained steadfast and clear headed, surely he would back down. He had to, because Jack sure as hell wasn't. 'How can I? Not after all Grandpa went through...and all he did for me...' Keeping his gaze steady, he replied calmly, "I have a bit of money from my last job that should get me started. And as for the work, I will get used to it slowly; I won't ever learn how to run a ranch unless I do it. I've read a lot of books about crops and animals," he ignored his father's scoff, "so I do have some idea of what to do. Dad, I want to do this. I've always wanted to do this; there's nothing and no one in the city for me." Pressing a hand to his chest he smiled faintly, "My heart has always been here, here on Rose Ranch. Asking me to leave here again...is asking me to abandon any hope I have of happiness."

John stared at his son for several minutes, as if searching for some other argument he could use. But after hearing his son speak so sincerely, he couldn't think of a single thing. Dropping his gaze, he slowly tucked his hands in his pockets; no matter what he said, he could tell his only child was going to do what he wanted. Though he could only foresee pain in this action, deep down he was proud. His son was willing to do what he never would. Never could now. Closing his eyes briefly, he sighed before raising his head once more.

"...I'll go talk to the villagers," nodding gently, he turned and took his leave of his son without another word.

Leaning against the shipping box, Jack let out the breath he had been holding; had...had he actually convinced his father to let him run the ranch? Watching the other man's form disappear into town, he wondered what exactly he would say to the villagers. "Better prepare yourselves, my clumsy-ass of a son is going to be taking care of Rose Ranch now. It may be best not to let him use sharp objects." Breathing a laugh, he turned and hopped up onto the shipping bin; his feet actually touched the ground now. The soft breeze that tossled his hair seemed to be a wind of change; things were going to be alright from now on. He would always miss his grandfather, but time would help dull the ache and maybe he could make a happy life for himself here. 'I'll get this place back to it's former glory. You just wait and see.' Leaning back he smiled up at the sky.

"...well Grandpa, it looks like I'll be sticking around for awhile."

And then the top of the bin gave way, causing Jack to fall into the bin bum first. with a yelp. He lay still for several moments trying to assess what had just happened, and doing a mental check of his body parts. 'Nothing serious...though I don't know how much bending my elbow will be doing after this...'

Taro, the ever vigilant rescue dog that he was, rushed to his master's aid by leaping over the debris and right onto Jack's stomach. Groaning, Jack tried to lift the excited dog off of him with little success.

"Uugghh...Tarooo...you are no help at all," to which the dog replied by giving the new ranch owner a big, wet kiss to the nose. Laughing, Jack shoved Taro away as he struggled to get out of the box that his legs and hands were dangling from. 'Well, on the bright side, Dad left before he could see his "clumsy-ass son" do THAT, and only my dog was witness to my embarrassment. If someone had seen it, I'm sure it would be all around town by-'

"Oh no! Are you alright?" A female's voice broke into Jack's thoughts just as he had pulled himself up into a semi-sitting position.

'...by tonight.'