Chapter Text
The farmer stepped out of her house into the field and felt the warm summer sun across her face. It still surprised her sometimes—how quiet it was here.
She was packed and ready to hopefully catch the elusive sturgeon from the mountain lake out by the carpenter shop. With her backpack full of bait and her fishing rod in hand, she made her way up the path north of her farmhouse which led towards the mountaintop.
Rabbits darted through the bushes as she walked, and the clouds drifted slowly across the sky, occasionally veiling the sun just long enough to catch a moment of much needed shade.
After a calming, peaceful walk up through the backwoods, the farmer was passing by the carpenter’s shop when she noticed a tall, dark figure standing by the lake. A baggy hoodie. Big black boots. As she slowly approached she began to make out the figure.
Robin’s oldest— the mysterious social outcast, Sebastian.
The farmer didn’t know much about him beyond what Robin had mentioned in passing. She introduced herself to him the first week she moved in, and after a cold and distant response, they hadn’t spoken since. Occasionally she would see him at the Saloon, playing pool with Sam and Abigail, but that was the extent of it.
She chose a spot along the shore a good distance away and set down her bag. The lake stretched shadowed and murky in front of her. After carefully baiting her hook, she cast her line into the deep water and settled in for what she expected to be a long day.
A faint flickering sound broke the silence.
She glanced sideways towards the sound to see Sebastian shield a lighter from the breeze. A small flame flared as he lit a cigarette before tossing the lighter back into his pocket.
She turned back toward the lake, watching the gentle ripples. Time passed quietly until a sudden sharp tug yanked her attention back to her rod. Her heart jumped. She began to pull the rod back and spun the reel as quickly as she could, feeling a lot less resistance than she expected.
When she finally pulled up her catch from the lake her shoulders sagged .
A cracked CD, its faded label advertising a trial of Jojanet 2.0.
She groaned at the sight of the disc in her hands.
“Nice fish you got there!” Sebastian called out to her.
She hadn’t expected him to say anything. Not to her.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, thanks…” she muttered, hurling the disc back into the lake. There was a pause before she glanced back at him. “Hey—” she hesitated. “Do you think I could get one of those?” Gesturing towards the pack of cigarettes slightly sticking out of Sebastian’s pocket.
He stared at her for a moment, then shrugged, “Yeah, sure.”
He walked over slowly, pulling the pack free from his pocket, flipping it open and holding it out towards her. The black polish on his nails was slightly chipped at the edges. She took one, then reached for her lighter. It sparked again and again, not producing a single flame.
He exhaled through his nose, cigarette between his lips. “Here,” he said as he handed her his lighter.
”Thanks.” She lit the cigarette quickly and passed it back.
The two sat in silence for a moment, listening to the distant sounds of the birds chirping and the screeches of summer cicadas.
“I didn't know you smoked,” he said, breaking the silence while taking a long drag of his cigarette, blowing smoke down towards the water.
“Cigarettes?” She replied, “Not really. I quit a few years before moving out here. However…” she added lightly, “I heard you’re smoking more than cigarettes out here.”
Sebastian choked on smoke before the colour drained from his face. “WHAT?”
She tried not to laugh. “I stopped by your mom’s shop one day and she was freaking out about some funny smelling ashtray she found in your room,”
He groaned, covering his face. “Of course she did. Yoba, she probably told half the valley by now.”
The farmer couldn’t help but laugh.
“What about you?” He asked.
”Not as much as I used to, Pierre only keeps some in stock every other season.”
Sebastian blinked. ”Wait…. what? Pierre’s a dealer?”
She smirked ”I couldn’t believe it either. Last fall I accidentally found his stash in his bedroom. He caught me snooping.” She shrugged, “I promised him I wouldn’t tell Caroline or Abigail… so don’t tell anyone.”
”My lips are sealed,” he said with a sort of laugh.
Before she could respond, the farmer felt a drop of water hit her cheek.
She looked up to see the sky, once bright blue, was now swallowed up by thick rolling storm clouds. Another drop landed on her face. Then another.
Thunder rumbled in the distance and the first drops began to patter against the lake.
She sighed, slinging her pack over her shoulder. “Damn… well, there goes my chances of catching anything decent.” She flicked her cigarette into the now wet grass. “Seeya around.”
”Maybe.” He replied, looking down at the water.
The farmer hesitated for a second, then turned and started down the trail. Behind her, thunder cracked low, echoing off the mountain.
Halfway down the path, she glanced back. She expected Sebastian to head off too, back home before the storm set in heavier.
But he hadn’t moved.
He just stood there by the lake, exactly where she left him, staring out at the dark water as if the storm didn't exist at all.
She paced back a few steps toward him. “You’re gonna stay out here?” She asked, surprised.
He smirked. “Yeah. I love the rain. It makes everybody disappear, y'know."
”Yeah… I get that. When I lived in Zuzu City there were so many people. It was always so busy, but when it rained, the city went quiet…”
”What was it like there— in Zuzu City?” He asked calmly.
“Suffocating.” She turned and looked back at him. “It was like you could never be alone— yet you were always alone.”
”I like being alone,” he said, eyes fixed towards the water, not meeting the farmer's eyes.
”Well… there’s a difference between being alone and being lonely,” she said, still looking at him. “There, I was lonely. I thought my career at Joja was all that mattered. I had no friends, barely saw my family, went home to a small empty apartment every night, only to go to bed, wake up and do it all again.”
The two of them stood there, eyes locked. The storm grew heavier around them, pounding against the branches above them. For a moment, neither spoke. The farmer stared at the raindrops racing down Sebastian’s hoodie, and he stared at the ground, cigarette between his fingers.
Finally, he broke the silence. “You know… you’re not as boring as I thought you’d be.”
The farmer raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“I guess…” he muttered, but there was the faintest trace of a grin on his face.
Another flash of lightning lit up the mountainside, and the farmer felt a shiver run down her back. The storm wasn’t letting up anytime soon, and the trail was starting to flood. She ducked under a pine tree for cover. Surprisingly, Sebastian joined her.
The two of them stood beneath the same tree, close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed.
“Looks like we’re stuck here for a while,” she said, as a roar of thunder echoed.
Sebastian leaned back against the trunk, eyes fixed on the darkening sky. The rain hammered against the tree, the forest around them blurred into streaks. The farmer hugged her knees to her chest, shivering from the chill of the wind.
Sebastian flicked the burnt cigarette into a puddle before pulling off his hoodie.
”Here… you’re freezing.” He held it out without meeting her eyes.
“I’m fine,” she replied quickly, her damp shirt clinging to her skin.
Sebastian glanced at her, bringing the hoodie closer to her.
The farmer blinked. “You’ll freeze.”
”I'll survive,” he muttered. “Just take it before I change my mind.”
She hesitated before grabbing it and slipping it on. It smelled faintly of smoke and woody, like the inside of the carpenter shop. The hoodie hung loose on her body, the sleeves too long.
“…Thanks,” she said, pushing up the sleeves.
The hoodie was soft in a worn out kind of way, like it had seen years of wear— early chill mornings, evenings spent at his desk in the dim glow of a monitor and nights standing by the lake. She tried not to read too much into it. It was just a hoodie, just a piece of fabric.
The storm showed no mercy as lightning split the sky, followed by a deep roar of thunder that rattled the trees. Instinctively, the farmer flinched.
Sebastian noticed, glancing back at her. “Scared of thunder?”
”I don't mind rain,” she admitted, eyes fixed on the ground. “But thunder… kind of makes me feel like a kid again. Hiding under my bed waiting for the storm to pass.”
He was quiet for a long moment, the kind of silence that made her uncomfortable in other conversations, but with him, the silence was pleasant, just sitting there enjoying each other's company.
“…I get that,” he finally said. “When I was little I’d hide out in the basement whenever I heard thunder— guess I’m still hiding in there.”
The farmer glanced up at Sebastian. He stood there rigid, eyes fixed ahead, unwilling to meet her gaze. She turned back towards the swaying trees, their branches thrashing against the wind.
Another flash of lightning ripped through the sky, and for a moment, everything was lit silver. Sebastian was still leaning against the trunk, but his eyes weren’t on the storm anymore. They were on her. When the sky went dark again, he looked away quickly.
The farmer tugged at the sleeves of the too-big hoodie.
“So, you always hang around here alone? In storms?”
”Most people leave me alone up here,” he muttered. “That’s the point.”
“Guess I’m ruining that for you.”
Sebastian paused, then shook his head. “…Not really.”
The storm almost looked like it was starting to break; a hint of light hung there at the edge of the sky. The farmer pulled the hood of Sebastian’s hoodie up over her head.
Sebastian spoke again, voice quiet and uncertain. “You know… you’re not like the others here. You don't look at me the way they do.”
The farmer’s stomach twisted slightly. She tilted her head towards him. “How do they look at you?”
“Like I'll never be more than what I am now— what they think I am now. Like I’m doing nothing with my life, just rotting in that basement.”
The farmer didn't know what to say at first. She glanced down at the damp ground, then back up at him. “I kinda know what you mean. People think I moved out here to run from something. Maybe they’re right. But… they shouldn’t be the ones to decide that.”
Sebastian looked at her again, and for once, he didn't look away. The roar of the rain softened, turning to scattered drops, dripping from the branches. The farmer looked up toward the sky, patches of pale light pushed through the thinning clouds.
She lowered the hood of Sebastian’s hoodie, brushing damp hair from her forehead. “Looks like it's finally letting up,” she said quietly.
Sebastian only gave a small nod, turning away from her.
The farmer rose to her feet, the ground squelching under her boots as she slung her pack over her shoulder. For a moment she hesitated, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie, still hanging loose on her. “I’ll, uh… bring this back to you later.”
That finally made him glance at her again. “Keep it,” he said flatly. “I have a ton of them.”
She studied him for a second and gave a faint smile. “Alright… thanks.”
The farmer turned, about to start heading back to her farmhouse.
”…I'm sorry,” he randomly blurted out behind her.
She turned back around, meeting his eyes before he looked away back towards the water. “…For what?” She asked.
“For what I said when we first met.” His eyes still fixed forward.
“Oh…” she said, shocked that he apologized. “Uh… Don’t worry about it, it's fine.”
The trail glistened with rain as she turned away and started walking down, each step leaving a print in the soft mud. Behind her, the lake lay still beneath the clearing sky, Sebastian’s silhouette unmoving under the pine. She glanced back once more before the path curved and she lost sight of him.
The faint sound of rain dripping from the trees echoed through the trail. The leaves glistened like glass, the scent of wet pine drifting through the air. By the time her farmhouse came into view, the clouds had broken apart entirely, the late afternoon sun sparkling off the wet grass. Her crops stood taller, greener, looking grateful for the downpour. She paused at the edge of the path, taking it in. The quiet hum of cicadas returning, the sight of her dog, Hotdog, playing in the puddles, the simple peace that had first drawn her here.
And yet, her thoughts weren’t on the farm. All she could think about was Sebastian. She tugged at the sleeves hanging over her hands, the faint scent of smoke and sawdust baked deep into the fabric.
She set her bag on the porch and sat down on the steps, elbows on her knees, watching the clouds slowly turn pink. The valley always had a way of surprising her. She moved here for quiet, for distance from the noise of her old life, and somehow found the place she knew she was going to spend the rest of her life.
She looked down at the sleeve of Sebastian’s hoodie, a faint smile on her face.
Not as boring as you thought, huh?
The fields glistened around her as she headed inside, Hotdog following closely behind her. The farmhouse was dim and quiet. She lit a lantern on the counter, its glow painting the wooden floors, then slipped Sebastian’s hoodie over the back of a chair. It hung there, heavy and damp. For a moment she stood looking at it, before turning to her evening chores.
Hotdog ran up to her, tail wagging furiously, nails tapping against the wood.
“Hey, boy,” she said, crouching down to scratch behind his ears. His fur was still wet from playing in the puddles earlier. She filled his bowls with fresh water and kibble, watching him dive into it eagerly, before she headed back out to the barn to check on the animals after the storm.
Her cows sat content in their stalls and the chickens pecked happily at their food, unbothered by the downpour. She moved through the routine: scattering hay, checking on her kegs and collecting the syrups from her tree taps. She looked over her field. The crops gleamed in the last light of day, the storm had crumpled a few stalks of wheat, but most of the plants stood refreshed, leaves shining. She knelt in the damp dirt to fix a few tomato branches that slumped off their trellises under the weight of the rain.
By the time she finished and headed back inside the farmhouse, the sky was dark and she was exhausted. She washed her hands at her small kitchen sink and sat at her small wooden table by the window. The hoodie still hung on the chair opposite of her, and she found herself looking at it, remembering the sound of rain against the pine branches, thinking about how different Sebastian was than how she imagined. She shook her head, shaking the thoughts out, before changing out of her still slightly damp farm clothes and into her little star print pyjama set. She climbed into bed, and Hotdog trotted after her, jumping up and settling across her lap. She ran her fingers through his soggy fur and yawned.
The night was clear now, stars painting the sky. She leaned back onto her pillow, watching the perfect crescent moon through her window. The farmhouse was quiet except for the soft drips of rain water from the leaves outside. The storm had passed; the valley was at rest, and with Hotdog’s steady breathing, the farmer finally could get some rest.
But all she could think about was Sebastian— how different he seemed from the first day they met, how sharp and distant his greeting was.
‘Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?’
The question lingered in her mind. At the time it had stung. She didn't know what to make of him, why he would ask that. But today under the storm, he didn't seem as cold and guarded; he felt the need to apologize for it.
She wondered what had changed him.
Or if it was her.