Spoiler! :
Green Heart
With a smile on her face and a bottle in each hand, Claire closed the door of Aja Winery, turning left with intentions of visiting Doug’s Inn before heading home. The blonde farmer hadn’t even yet walked two steps before literally bumping into a tall and sturdy male figure.
“Sorry,” Claire muttered, at first not knowing whose body she collided with. After taking a step back, she recognized the familiar UMA hat and pale complexion, and her face lit up. “Gray!”
“Hey, Claire,” he said, trying not to smile. He eyed the wine bottles. “What are you up to?”
“Oh,” she said, recalling that the only reason she was headed to Doug’s Inn in the first place was to share a bottle of wine with Gray before being forced to converse with some fairly judgmental family members. She had planned on being nonchalant about it, all, “Oh, I just happened to be in the neighborhood, thought I’d stop by…” Claire started to turn back towards the direction that would take her to her farm house. “I was on my way home. Do you want to come with me?”
Gray grinned, but his brow furrowed. “Um, sure. But weren’t you headed this way?” He pointed in the direction she had originally been going.
The blonde nodded her head. “Yes I was.”
“But,” he pressed on, “your house is this way.” He pointed in the opposite direction.
Claire shrugged, face flushed. She couldn’t let him know the real reason why she was going the wrong way. “Maybe I wanted to take the long way home.”
Unable to hold back a smile, Gray took a few steps in her original direction and said, “We can still take the long way home if you want. It is your birthday, after all.”
Soon they were ambling past Doug’s Inn, past the flower patch, and through Rose Plaza. They rolled up their pants and roamed the cool shores of Mineral Beach. Claire shivered, screaming or squealing every time the cold water rushed past her bare legs; they began to wonder out loud why they thought wading through the ocean in the middle of Autumn was a good idea in the first place.
On their way to Claire’s farm house, Claire hopped along the cobblestone pathway, focused on not touching the cracks between stones with her feet. She was also hoping it would delay their arrival to the boisterous family members Claire was dreading to return to. Gray asked her what she was doing.
“I’m trying not to fall into the abyss,” Claire replied, as if it were the only thing that made sense in the universe.
“The abyss? What abyss?” Gray frantically scanned the walkway, wondering what fantasy world Claire was living in.
“Oh, Gray,” Claire giggled, “just let me have my fun.”
Gray sighed, rolling his eyes and smiling. “Okay.”
When they passed the blacksmith, Gray asked, “Did my grandfather give you your present yet?”
The blonde girl raised her eyebrows. “You guys actually talked about something without biting each other’s heads off?”
“Nah,” Gray replied, “he yelled at me for ages to get you something.” His brow furrowed, and he made his voice gruff in order to impersonate Saibara. “He was all, ‘I bet she’d look really nice in jewelry!’ and ‘Maybe she’d like a free tool repair!’ for almost two weeks.”
“Well, I would look really nice in jewelry,” Claire deadpanned, “but Saibara already got me a free tool repair, and I have a feeling you didn’t get me jewelry.” She jumped in front of Gray and faced him fully, eyeing him mock-skeptically. “What did you get me, exactly?”
The blacksmith cocked an eyebrow and put a hand on one of his hips. “If you had asked that while we were anywhere else in town,” he began to explain, “I would have just taken it out and given it to you.” The auburn-haired boy patted his chest, and Claire figured he must have a secret pocket on the inside of his work suit. “However,” he continued, grabbing Claire’s shoulders and turning her around. He pointed towards her house, which was in plain view. “You see that?” Claire nodded. “That’s your house, and it’s less than a hundred yards away, so don’t tell me you can’t wait until we get there.”
Claire sighed heavily, pretending as if all her dreams had been crushed. “Fine.”
They walked for a little while, Claire unable to contain a smile before she mentioned, “Do you know what I really want?”
Gray’s blue eyes watched Claire nervously, perhaps as if he was hoping it wasn’t something he had considered getting, but then opted not to. “…What?”
Claire’s face twisted into a malicious smile; Gray’s pale face turned pink in response. “I want you to take off your hat and let me wear it for a day.”
The blacksmith shot down the idea entirely. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Every time Claire tried to convince him, Gray would firmly say, “No,” or, “I don’t think so,” before she could get out more than, “BUT GRAY!”
For the next fifty or so yards, Claire pretended to pout, but she secretly had a plan. As soon as she passed Odie’s doghouse, she gently placed the wine bottles behind it and jumped for Gray’s hat – with success. Gray shouted, “Hey!” and tried to grab it back, but Claire had already started sprinting away, laughing.
“You should’ve seen it coming!” Claire cried, running behind her currently empty chicken coop.
When Gray caught up, he didn’t go behind to where Claire was, but stayed a fair distance away, as to not trigger her running off again. He scowled. “Yeah, I should have. Can I please have it back?”
Claire grabbed the rim of his hat with both hands and read what it said – what it always said – UMA. “Hey, Gray, what does U.M.A. stand for?” She couldn’t help giggling, knowing she had the most control over what happened in the situation. “Is it your alma mater?”
"No!” he shouted, then sighed. He explained warily, “It’s like a word. Uma. I think it means horse in Japanese.”
“Why do you have a hat that says horse in Japanese?” Claire called out, sort of confused.
“I don’t know!” Claire could tell he was getting a little bit irritable, which made her giggle some more. “I found it in my grandfather’s attic a few years ago and just started wearing it! Now can I please have it back?”
“Hmm,” Claire said, teasing the blacksmith a bit by pretending to consider. “Not yet!” The blonde was just having too much fun.
Gray had had enough; he lunged at her, and Claire screamed, trying to run away. He had her trapped against the chicken coop wall, and Claire tried to play keep away. The blacksmith found this annoying. “Gray,” she said, commenting on something she didn’t notice before. “You don’t have any tan lines on your face from this thing. Your forehead is the same color as the rest of your face!”
“You know,” he muttered, still trying to capture his hat, “I don’t tan very well.”
“Well you’re pretty pale,” she mentioned. “Don’t you burn a lot?”
“AHA!” Gray shouted, grabbing hold of his beloved, ratty hat. They both had a grip on it, and it was well over Claire’s head. The blonde and the blacksmith stopped moving, realizing for the first time that Gray had almost pinned Claire to the side of the building. Their faces were inches apart, and Claire glanced at his lips; for the first time, she noticed how soft and inviting they looked.
The two of them breathed heavily for a few seconds before Gray answered, “I guess that’s what they make sunscreen for.”
Claire’s face grew warmer, and she wondered how much of it was due to the actual running that took place. She felt her lips curl a little but didn’t remember consciously thinking about doing that, and without taking her eyes off of Gray’s mouth, she joked, “Maybe I should try it sometime.”
She looked into the blacksmith’s eyes and saw his face harden at the glance. He backed away, saying, “I’m going to go to the library.” Claire’s heart fell through to her stomach as he unzipped his work suit to reveal a tight white t-shirt, barely noticing the way it showed off his defined chest; he reached in and grabbed a piece of paper. Gray snatched his hat out of Claire’s hand, placed it on his head, and handed her the paper. “Happy birthday,” he said, smiling just a touch before walking off the farm.
The blonde unfolded it before he was even halfway across the field. She didn’t pay attention to the yellow square and focused on the unruly scrawl she recognized as Gray’s:
Winter’s coming, and you don’t have enough food. You need food. So, when you think you’re ready, stop by Poultry Farm to grab yourself a chicken. Make sure you’re eating its eggs and not the chicken itself, because a whole chicken is only good for about three meals.
On the yellow square piece of paper were some cartoon chickens along the borders and it said: The owner of this coupon has received half a chicken as a gift. Come by during our open hours to pay for the rest of it.
Claire folded the yellow square and put it in her pocket, then slid down the side of the empty chicken coop and stared blankly at Gray’s note, allowing her heart to pound.
He’s one thoughtful guy, she mused.
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