"...You!"

Nigel turned his gaze towards the furious blond, her eyes blazing with anger. He vaguely recalled her as the girl who had blocked his path and hurled unfounded accusations at him a few days ago. Nevertheless, he hadn't interacted with her beyond that encounter, leaving him perplexed as to why she was so incensed.

"...Me?"

"Yes, you, farmer! I haven't forgotten what you did to me a few days ago! What in the world are you doing here in my..."

"Don't be rude to my guest, Haley. Um...Nigel? This is my sister, Haley."

Both Nigel and Haley displayed visible disbelief, their expressions mirroring their astonishment.

"...Sister?"

"Guest?! Him? What are you even..." Haley's voice trailed off, her confusion palpable as she struggled to comprehend the situation.

"He came here to borrow my sewing machine. Now, end of discussion. Clean under the cushions while I talk to him."

"Urghh!"

With an ultimatum, Haley groaned and reluctantly began cleaning the couch. Nigel could feel that she was just doing that to avoid further embarrassment in front of him. However, he paid little attention to her and focused on the intriguing fact that these two were sisters.

"...Sisters?"

"Oh, right... Haha, didn't see that coming, did you? Many people find it hard to believe Haley is my younger sister."

Nigel concurred silently. Their contrasting hair colors, appearances, and overall aura made it difficult to associate them as siblings. As he followed Emily to the sewing machine, Haley joined them with an unsatisfied expression on her face.

"Haley? Are you done cleaning?"

"Yes. And you! I said, I didn't forget what you did to me!"

Nigel grew weary of her high-pitched shrieking, finding it more bothersome than anything else.

"...So... exactly what did I do to you?"

"You...you...ignored me. And-"

"So I did nothing."

"...Urgh!"

Haley stormed off to her room, her voice filled with anger. Nigel just looked at her with a puzzled expression, while Emily sighed in exasperation.

"Sorry. She's kind of... emotional, ever since she came to this place."

"...Where's the sewing machine again?"

"Oh, it's right here, in front of the kitchen. There!"

Nigel saw the sewing machine, standing next to the kitchen. He settled down in front of it and pulled out his tattered clothes.

Nigel examined the worn and torn clothes he had retrieved from his pocket. They were a casualty of his recent adventures in the mines, and he couldn't bear the thought of discarding them. With determination in his eyes, he decided to repair them himself.

Positioning himself in front of Emily's sewing machine, Nigel carefully threaded the needle, his hands moving with precision and confidence. The hum of the machine filled the room as he guided the fabric under the needle, his gaze focused and unwavering.

Stitch by stitch, he skillfully repaired the frayed edges and patched up the holes. The torn seams were neatly joined together again, and the fabric slowly regained its former strength. Nigel's steady hands moved with purpose, his concentration unbroken as he worked.

As he continued to sew, Emily observed his work with admiration. She couldn't help but be impressed by Nigel's proficiency and attention to detail. Seeing an opportunity to assist, she rummaged through her sewing supplies and found some extra cloth and matching thread.

"Nigel, I noticed you were running low on fabric and thread. Here, take these. They should come in handy for future repairs," she offered, placing the materials on the table next to him.

Nigel acknowledged her gesture with a nod of gratitude, his focus undeterred. He seamlessly incorporated the additional cloth into his work, reinforcing weak spots and enhancing the overall durability of the garments.

Time seemed to slip away as Nigel meticulously sewed, his movements becoming almost meditative. The room was filled with the gentle whir of the sewing machine, accompanied by the occasional snip of thread. Emily watched in awe as the damaged clothes transformed under Nigel's skilled hands.

"Wow... who did you learn this from?"

"...My mother."

"She must be really talented!"

"...Sure."

Nigel muttered as he continued with his work. However, in the process, he recalled a time when his family had faced financial struggles after his father's death. Affording new clothes was a challenge, prompting his mother to learn how to sew and mend garments instead. Nigel watched her closely, unable to bear the sight of her fingers bearing the bruises of her efforts. Determined to help, he learned alongside her, eventually taking on the responsibility of sewing in their household.

Although his mother lacked innate sewing talent, she imparted the basics to Nigel, fostering his skills in stitching and knitting. With time, he became proficient in these crafts, using them to mend and maintain their clothes. As he focused on repairing his own garments, Haley sat on the couch, protesting the noise of the sewing machine by loudly watching TV. Emily tried to engage her, but Haley stubbornly ignored her.

Nigel glanced up, his expression unchanged, and inquired if he could continue using the sewing machine. He still had some clothes left to repair, and he was also reinforcing certain areas with sturdier materials to prevent future damage. However, he understood that Emily needed to leave for her evening plans, and he agreed to keep an eye on Haley.

"Emily! Stop treating me like a 7-year-old!" Haley protested, her voice filled with frustration.

"Then stop acting like one, Haley. Okay, then, Nigel. Bye!" Emily retorted, brushing off Haley's complaint as she left the house.

Now left alone with Nigel, Haley regarded him with suspicion, her gaze fixed upon him. Nigel, however, paid her no mind, remaining focused on his sewing. As he stitched in a straight line, he set his phone aside and checked the blueprint Maru had sent him earlier that day. It detailed an enhanced version of the sprinkler he had designed—energy-efficient, automatic, and flawlessly calculated. Nigel also noticed that Maru had included an upgraded version that required the rare and valuable resource, iridium. While it was currently beyond his means, Nigel saw it as an objective to strive for in his farming endeavors.

Returning his attention to his shirt, he continued patching it with a piece of leather salvaged from a discarded handbag he had found in the town's trashcan. The rhythmic hum of the sewing machine filled the room as he meticulously repaired his clothes, each stitch a testament to his skill and determination.

Haley, growing bored of the mundane television shows, approached Nigel and took a seat in front of him. Nigel remained unaffected by her presence, maintaining his stoic silence.

"I'm just here to make sure you don't steal anything," Haley stated, her voice laced with suspicion.

Nigel let out a quiet sigh, finding her assumption rather bothersome. He reached into his pocket, realizing he had a pink cake acquired from a recent encounter with monsters. Perhaps, he thought, offering her something to occupy her mouth would provide some respite from her constant chatter.

Without hesitation, he handed the cake to Haley, who appeared flabbergasted.

"...Wha... For me?"

"Take it."

"I... I... Well... You remembered... my birthday... That I didn't even tell you.."

Haley mumbled to herself in a small voice, barely audible to Nigel. He understood that she had misunderstood his intentions.

"...No. Just a gift. I didn't know it was your..."

"Th... thanks..."

Haley's attention drifted away as she continued to mumble, and Nigel chose not to engage further...though he could see Haley's expression was twisting every second. Well, even though it wasn't what he intended, she became quiet.

So, Nigel completed his work in peace.

Haley lay quietly in her bed, the events of the day swirling through her mind. Confusion and frustration mingled with a hint of curiosity as she tried to make sense of Nigel's actions. Despite her initial anger towards him, there were certain aspects that seemed contradictory.

"He remembered my birthday... even though I never told him," she thought, a tinge of disbelief coloring her inner musings. It seemed impossible that Nigel could have known such a personal detail about her, considering their limited interactions. Yet, there he was, presenting her with a cake on a day that held significance to her.

Her mind began to wander, contemplating the meaning behind his gesture. "Why would he give me a gift? Could it be that he... likes me?" The idea took hold in her thoughts, and her heart skipped a beat at the possibility. The thought of Nigel having a soft spot for her ignited a flurry of emotions within her.

She recalled moments from their encounters, his quiet and enigmatic presence, and the way he seemed to pay attention to her interests. "He knew what I liked... he knew my birthday... Is it possible that he has been observing me all this time?"

Haley's mind conjured up an image of Nigel, meticulously planning and calculating his actions to win her favor. The notion of his secret admiration sent a warm thrill through her veins. It was a romantic idea, one that offered solace and hope amidst the chaos of her feelings.

"He gave me the gift when Emily wasn't around... perhaps he wanted it to be our little secret," she pondered, a shy smile curling at the corners of her lips. The thought of a hidden connection, an unspoken understanding between them, filled her with a sense of anticipation and excitement.

Lost in her own fantasies, Haley wove intricate scenarios in her mind, painting Nigel as the silent hero who had seen through her facade and uncovered her true desires. Every subtle gesture and action from him became a breadcrumb leading her towards a potential romance.

"...Heh..so that's what he's up too, huh..? Well, he's kinda cute, but I..."

Nigel woke up from his sleep, sweating all over. He...dreamed about some thing bad...and troublesome. He didn't remember what it was...without hesitation, he turned on the TV to forget about it. But the channel he saw infront of him was...the fortune telling channel, which he didn't really enjoy.

But just as he tried to turn it off, he could hear the narrator saying...

-...The spirits are very displeased today. They will do their best to make your life difficult.

...He believed that fortune tellers were just myths...but still, he could feel anxiety, crawling up his back.