Categories > Games > Harvest Moon > In My Life
Hi all, and welcome to the first chapter of In My Life. I've had this fic since about February of '04 on fanfiction.net, but this version's been overhauled. I've pretty much cut out the bad writing from the old version, and left in what makes the story work. Let's check it out.
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The wanderer knew it wouldn't be long before he reached his destination, but time seemed to stretch with the road ahead. As he stumbled, he knew he needed to rest and replenish himself. But he couldn't be distracted when he knew Mineral Town had to be at the other side of the mountain.
The sight of a small lake tempted him to stop, and he knew if he had to keep going, he would have to drink. Finally, he threw aside his ragged rucksack aside and fell down on his knees. The sight of his disheveled face reflected in the lake upset him, but then he shook off the image and scooped up a handful of water. Once he finished drinking, he sat back to view his verdant surroundings.
Everything seemed beautifully serene, as he thought. Still, the serenity didn't calm him, as nothing really could in those days. He fumbled idly with his rucksack and pulled out a letter that looked to be opened and folded over about a hundred times, not needing to read the words to know what it read. All he knew was he needed to find the writer.
-------
His heart fell once he reached his goal. As he glumly surveyed the fields, once well-tended farmland, he thought it looked like the place had been abandoned.
The wanderer didn't notice as a few people gathered by the fence, or as a short and squat man clad in a candy-red suit dashed into the fields. Popping the brim of his matching top hat up, the short man stopped to see the wanderer staring intently at the fields.
"What the-??" the little man, mayor of the town, muttered to himself. No one else seemed to know who he was either. Without another thought, the Mayor darted in to defend the honor of the deadlands.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" he cried as he ran up to the stranger. The wanderer acknowledged his outburst, but took a moment to turn and face him.
The Mayor took in his appearance, tall and lanky, dirty clothes and matted light brown hair. But his eyes caught the Mayor's focus. The wanderer seemed to hide his grief in his almond-shaped, grey eyes.
It took a few breaths for the Mayor to calm himself. The red drained from his face, and once he felt ready, he spoke.
"You can't trespass here. This land belongs to somebody." He waited for him to responded. "Leave right now," he finally capped, staring up at the tall and lanky wanderer.
The wanderer wordlessly reached into his knapsack and pulled out a letter. He then handed it to the Mayor.
"I responded to this," the wanderer uttered. "He never wrote back."
The Mayor gently took the letter in both hands and carefully unfolded it. As he read, his eyebrows drooped and a frown fell on his face. Once he finished, he looked up with somber eyes.
"So you knew the old man?" he asked the wanderer. When the wanderer nodded in reply, the Mayor looked to the fields. "He died a while back, you know."
"I'm sorry to hear that," the wander replied. He watched the Mayor amble through the fields.
"This was, at one point, his prosperous farm," the Mayor began. He stopped and turned to the wanderer. "It really was the soul of our village here. Now I don't know what it'll come to. He left it to a lad in his will... a Sergeant Makoto Ogawa." With that, he sighed. "But what if Makoto never shows up?"
The wanderer glanced quickly at the little man when he said that.
"I'm him," he told the Mayor. He noticed the Mayor looked completely floored.
"You're him??"
Makoto nodded.
"We've been waiting for you to show up since autumn!" the Mayor told him. Once he noticed Makoto was speechless, he sighed. "Sorry," he said. "Anyway, I'm Mayor Thomas Moore," he said as he extended a hand towards Makoto. He received a tired, yet firm handshake in turn. "Follow me to my house," he continued, "and we'll look at the old man's will."
-------
Makoto stood in Mayor Thomas's house while the little man sifted through the mess of papers on his desk. As he watched the fading light of the sun through the windows, his stomach audibly cried for some attention.
"This might take a while, Makoto," the Mayor muttered. "So you can help yourself to what's left of my sandwich in the fridge."
"Thanks," Makoto said. He left the room and headed for the kitchen. It looked a lot cleaner and a lot more organized than Mayor Thomas's office. Unfortunately, the sandwich in the nearly empty fridge looked ready to spring to life and bite off his hand. Without another thought, Makoto grabbed it and shut the door.
"Found it!" Mayor Thomas called. "Come in here and take a seat, Makoto!" He climbed to his own seat on top of a stack of phonebooks in his revolving chair. Once Makoto entered the office, he cordially motioned to the seat across from him.
"So, how old are you?" he asked once Makoto sat.
"Seventeen, sir." Then he took a ravenous bite of the sandwich. Even bad cheese tasted good at that point.
Thomas arched an eyebrow.
"A Sergeant at seventeen? That's the minimum draft age!" He looked a bit sheepish when Makoto didn't reply right away, but he couldn't speak since with his mouth crammed full. "I mean, isn't it?" the Mayor added.
Makoto gulped his bite of sandwich. "After military academy, they decided to promote me," he answered. When he noticed the Mayor kept his incredulous expression, he added: "Might have something to do with my dad being in the military. I haven't really been in the position too long." He found he didn't want to say more than that, but thankfully, Mayor Thomas accepted his answer and continued.
"The old man left the farm to you, that's true," he told Makoto. "But he also wrote that he wanted to give you a choice. You could live and work on the farm if you wanted, but you were free to go if this wasn't what you desired." He paused. "So I'm guessing you must have some good opportunities open to you in the military."
Makoto shook his head. "I'm taking a leave," he replied, almost sounding a bit hostile.
The Mayor found himself taken aback. "Okay then," he replied. He shook his head. "So then the thing is, if you did choose to work on the farm, he strongly desired that you get along with the villagers as well. He left it up to the villagers to decide whether or not they approved of you as the rightful owner of the farm and a member of this village."
Makoto sighed.
"I don't care. I can't let the old man's farm go like that."
Thomas nodded.
"It's a tough job, isn't it?" he asked. "I believe with hard work, you can do it." With that, the Mayor jumped down from his seat. "I've got a town meeting to head to now," he told Makoto.
"Wait for me back at the farm."
-------
Makoto leaned cooly on the wooden fence as he waited for the Mayor to return with the news of the meeting. Finally, he noticed the Mayor darting down the street. With that, he stood up from the fence to greet the exhausted man.
"You can stay," he announced, winded.
"That's a relief," Makoto replied.
"But it's not that easy, unfortunately," the Mayor continued. He caught Makoto's attention. "As a village, we decided that not only must you return the farm to its glory," he continued, "but we must also be able to accept you as a member of our town. You've got three years for all this. Then we'll hold a meeting and decide if you met our expectations."
Makoto nodded.
"I'll do it, Mayor."
The Mayor chuckled a bit as he gave Makoto a pat on the arm.
"Thomas is just fine, my boy," he told Makoto. "After all, I want you to feel welcome here." He grinned up at Makoto. "So, welcome to Mineral Town."
"Actually," Makoto began. "I've been here before."
The Mayor looked confused at first. Then as the thought dawned on him, his face brightened.
"That's right!" he exclaimed. "That's how you know him! You're the little boy who came by here back in the summer of... what was it...? '94?"
Makoto nodded. "Ten years ago," he said.
"I remember the old man telling me about you," the Mayor continued. As he spoke, Makoto lost himself in his hazy memories of that summer.
-----
That night, Makoto and Thomas looked around hopelessly at the hole-in-the-wall farmhouse. Thomas let out a roaring sneeze from the dust that rose up from the floor that could barely be seen underneath the leaves and dirt. To their left, open doors revealed a tiny bedroom and a grimy bathroom. Everywhere Makoto looked, sepia-toned photographs cluttered the space. They hung from the ugly wallpaper and stood on the stone-age television and studio piano.
Thomas shivered as a cold gust blew in through the broken window and flapped the ratty curtains. Makoto's face fell at the sight of it.
"Ehh..." Thomas began, in some attempt to alleviate the reality of the situation. "At least there's a washer and dryer in the basement. And there's a hot plate in the corner. I'm sure you don't cook much... eh?" He laughed sheepishly.
"Actually, I kinda do," Makoto muttered curtly. He surveyed his dirty surroundings again and sighed.
"I'm sorry," Mayor Thomas continued. "It's just that no one's even set foot in here since the old man died. I can help you clean it if you want."
"That's alright. I'm good."
Thomas was taken aback, but eventually nodded and agreed.
"In that case, I'll be here tomorrow morning to show you around town," he said, flashing another cheerful smile of his. "Have a good night's sleep now!"
And with that, he left. Makoto grabbed a broom off the side of a wall. He had no choice but to clean the dump.
-------
All Makoto could think of was catching some sleep once he hit the mattress sometime before six. After working all night, he left the house spotless. He pulled the pillow close in an attempt to make himself comfortable, and soon drifted to sleep.
Then a knock startled him.
Makoto groggily pushed himself up from the mattress, bleary eyed and wishing he could ignore the person at the door. He threw himself back down on the bed.
But when the knock rose up again, he swore under his breath. He somehow contained himself by counting to ten before he dragged himself to the door.
"Makoto?" he heard Mayor Thomas ask from outside. With that, Makoto opened the door. "Morning there, Makoto! I've come to show you around! There's lots to see!" he beamed obliviously as Makoto glared, shutting the door in the Mayor's face.
"I'll be back," Makoto grumbled, only to hear a far-too jovial: "Okay!" through the door.
He came out again after a few minutes, finally shaved and dressed in a worn-looking pair of jeans, his dirty boots, and a black T-shirt. The Mayor eyed him, and asked:
"Not cold at all, Makoto?"
Makoto shook his head as he crunched a sliver of snow beneath his boot.
"In that case, let's go!" Thomas announced as he began to walk towards the road ahead. Makoto shrugged and followed him.
------
The wanderer knew it wouldn't be long before he reached his destination, but time seemed to stretch with the road ahead. As he stumbled, he knew he needed to rest and replenish himself. But he couldn't be distracted when he knew Mineral Town had to be at the other side of the mountain.
The sight of a small lake tempted him to stop, and he knew if he had to keep going, he would have to drink. Finally, he threw aside his ragged rucksack aside and fell down on his knees. The sight of his disheveled face reflected in the lake upset him, but then he shook off the image and scooped up a handful of water. Once he finished drinking, he sat back to view his verdant surroundings.
Everything seemed beautifully serene, as he thought. Still, the serenity didn't calm him, as nothing really could in those days. He fumbled idly with his rucksack and pulled out a letter that looked to be opened and folded over about a hundred times, not needing to read the words to know what it read. All he knew was he needed to find the writer.
-------
His heart fell once he reached his goal. As he glumly surveyed the fields, once well-tended farmland, he thought it looked like the place had been abandoned.
The wanderer didn't notice as a few people gathered by the fence, or as a short and squat man clad in a candy-red suit dashed into the fields. Popping the brim of his matching top hat up, the short man stopped to see the wanderer staring intently at the fields.
"What the-??" the little man, mayor of the town, muttered to himself. No one else seemed to know who he was either. Without another thought, the Mayor darted in to defend the honor of the deadlands.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" he cried as he ran up to the stranger. The wanderer acknowledged his outburst, but took a moment to turn and face him.
The Mayor took in his appearance, tall and lanky, dirty clothes and matted light brown hair. But his eyes caught the Mayor's focus. The wanderer seemed to hide his grief in his almond-shaped, grey eyes.
It took a few breaths for the Mayor to calm himself. The red drained from his face, and once he felt ready, he spoke.
"You can't trespass here. This land belongs to somebody." He waited for him to responded. "Leave right now," he finally capped, staring up at the tall and lanky wanderer.
The wanderer wordlessly reached into his knapsack and pulled out a letter. He then handed it to the Mayor.
"I responded to this," the wanderer uttered. "He never wrote back."
The Mayor gently took the letter in both hands and carefully unfolded it. As he read, his eyebrows drooped and a frown fell on his face. Once he finished, he looked up with somber eyes.
"So you knew the old man?" he asked the wanderer. When the wanderer nodded in reply, the Mayor looked to the fields. "He died a while back, you know."
"I'm sorry to hear that," the wander replied. He watched the Mayor amble through the fields.
"This was, at one point, his prosperous farm," the Mayor began. He stopped and turned to the wanderer. "It really was the soul of our village here. Now I don't know what it'll come to. He left it to a lad in his will... a Sergeant Makoto Ogawa." With that, he sighed. "But what if Makoto never shows up?"
The wanderer glanced quickly at the little man when he said that.
"I'm him," he told the Mayor. He noticed the Mayor looked completely floored.
"You're him??"
Makoto nodded.
"We've been waiting for you to show up since autumn!" the Mayor told him. Once he noticed Makoto was speechless, he sighed. "Sorry," he said. "Anyway, I'm Mayor Thomas Moore," he said as he extended a hand towards Makoto. He received a tired, yet firm handshake in turn. "Follow me to my house," he continued, "and we'll look at the old man's will."
-------
Makoto stood in Mayor Thomas's house while the little man sifted through the mess of papers on his desk. As he watched the fading light of the sun through the windows, his stomach audibly cried for some attention.
"This might take a while, Makoto," the Mayor muttered. "So you can help yourself to what's left of my sandwich in the fridge."
"Thanks," Makoto said. He left the room and headed for the kitchen. It looked a lot cleaner and a lot more organized than Mayor Thomas's office. Unfortunately, the sandwich in the nearly empty fridge looked ready to spring to life and bite off his hand. Without another thought, Makoto grabbed it and shut the door.
"Found it!" Mayor Thomas called. "Come in here and take a seat, Makoto!" He climbed to his own seat on top of a stack of phonebooks in his revolving chair. Once Makoto entered the office, he cordially motioned to the seat across from him.
"So, how old are you?" he asked once Makoto sat.
"Seventeen, sir." Then he took a ravenous bite of the sandwich. Even bad cheese tasted good at that point.
Thomas arched an eyebrow.
"A Sergeant at seventeen? That's the minimum draft age!" He looked a bit sheepish when Makoto didn't reply right away, but he couldn't speak since with his mouth crammed full. "I mean, isn't it?" the Mayor added.
Makoto gulped his bite of sandwich. "After military academy, they decided to promote me," he answered. When he noticed the Mayor kept his incredulous expression, he added: "Might have something to do with my dad being in the military. I haven't really been in the position too long." He found he didn't want to say more than that, but thankfully, Mayor Thomas accepted his answer and continued.
"The old man left the farm to you, that's true," he told Makoto. "But he also wrote that he wanted to give you a choice. You could live and work on the farm if you wanted, but you were free to go if this wasn't what you desired." He paused. "So I'm guessing you must have some good opportunities open to you in the military."
Makoto shook his head. "I'm taking a leave," he replied, almost sounding a bit hostile.
The Mayor found himself taken aback. "Okay then," he replied. He shook his head. "So then the thing is, if you did choose to work on the farm, he strongly desired that you get along with the villagers as well. He left it up to the villagers to decide whether or not they approved of you as the rightful owner of the farm and a member of this village."
Makoto sighed.
"I don't care. I can't let the old man's farm go like that."
Thomas nodded.
"It's a tough job, isn't it?" he asked. "I believe with hard work, you can do it." With that, the Mayor jumped down from his seat. "I've got a town meeting to head to now," he told Makoto.
"Wait for me back at the farm."
-------
Makoto leaned cooly on the wooden fence as he waited for the Mayor to return with the news of the meeting. Finally, he noticed the Mayor darting down the street. With that, he stood up from the fence to greet the exhausted man.
"You can stay," he announced, winded.
"That's a relief," Makoto replied.
"But it's not that easy, unfortunately," the Mayor continued. He caught Makoto's attention. "As a village, we decided that not only must you return the farm to its glory," he continued, "but we must also be able to accept you as a member of our town. You've got three years for all this. Then we'll hold a meeting and decide if you met our expectations."
Makoto nodded.
"I'll do it, Mayor."
The Mayor chuckled a bit as he gave Makoto a pat on the arm.
"Thomas is just fine, my boy," he told Makoto. "After all, I want you to feel welcome here." He grinned up at Makoto. "So, welcome to Mineral Town."
"Actually," Makoto began. "I've been here before."
The Mayor looked confused at first. Then as the thought dawned on him, his face brightened.
"That's right!" he exclaimed. "That's how you know him! You're the little boy who came by here back in the summer of... what was it...? '94?"
Makoto nodded. "Ten years ago," he said.
"I remember the old man telling me about you," the Mayor continued. As he spoke, Makoto lost himself in his hazy memories of that summer.
-----
That night, Makoto and Thomas looked around hopelessly at the hole-in-the-wall farmhouse. Thomas let out a roaring sneeze from the dust that rose up from the floor that could barely be seen underneath the leaves and dirt. To their left, open doors revealed a tiny bedroom and a grimy bathroom. Everywhere Makoto looked, sepia-toned photographs cluttered the space. They hung from the ugly wallpaper and stood on the stone-age television and studio piano.
Thomas shivered as a cold gust blew in through the broken window and flapped the ratty curtains. Makoto's face fell at the sight of it.
"Ehh..." Thomas began, in some attempt to alleviate the reality of the situation. "At least there's a washer and dryer in the basement. And there's a hot plate in the corner. I'm sure you don't cook much... eh?" He laughed sheepishly.
"Actually, I kinda do," Makoto muttered curtly. He surveyed his dirty surroundings again and sighed.
"I'm sorry," Mayor Thomas continued. "It's just that no one's even set foot in here since the old man died. I can help you clean it if you want."
"That's alright. I'm good."
Thomas was taken aback, but eventually nodded and agreed.
"In that case, I'll be here tomorrow morning to show you around town," he said, flashing another cheerful smile of his. "Have a good night's sleep now!"
And with that, he left. Makoto grabbed a broom off the side of a wall. He had no choice but to clean the dump.
-------
All Makoto could think of was catching some sleep once he hit the mattress sometime before six. After working all night, he left the house spotless. He pulled the pillow close in an attempt to make himself comfortable, and soon drifted to sleep.
Then a knock startled him.
Makoto groggily pushed himself up from the mattress, bleary eyed and wishing he could ignore the person at the door. He threw himself back down on the bed.
But when the knock rose up again, he swore under his breath. He somehow contained himself by counting to ten before he dragged himself to the door.
"Makoto?" he heard Mayor Thomas ask from outside. With that, Makoto opened the door. "Morning there, Makoto! I've come to show you around! There's lots to see!" he beamed obliviously as Makoto glared, shutting the door in the Mayor's face.
"I'll be back," Makoto grumbled, only to hear a far-too jovial: "Okay!" through the door.
He came out again after a few minutes, finally shaved and dressed in a worn-looking pair of jeans, his dirty boots, and a black T-shirt. The Mayor eyed him, and asked:
"Not cold at all, Makoto?"
Makoto shook his head as he crunched a sliver of snow beneath his boot.
"In that case, let's go!" Thomas announced as he began to walk towards the road ahead. Makoto shrugged and followed him.
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