A story that revolves around the protagonists of Mineral Town.
After a series of unfortunate events, Pete and Claire agree they'll have to raise the farm together, whether they like it or not. Through their farming-ventures, they realize that maybe...
"Hey! What are you doing there?" shouted a voice from behind him.
"Hmmm...?" Pete turned around. Who's that? He saw a man of short stature angrily walking towards him. He wore a formal red suit. What caught his attention the most was the comically long red hat on his bald head. Is he compensating for something...?
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"The owner of this farm died a while back!" The man fumed, tipping his glasses.
"... What?" Pete froze, his eyes widening to impossible standards. Did he just say the owner is...?
"You can't just come waltzing in here as you please!" He exclaimed.
"Wait, wait!" Pete raised his palms. I'm trying to process the situation here! "Did you just say the owner... died?"
"Yes, I did." The man huffed. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh..." Pete cast his gaze to his feet. His chest tightened. He's... not here anymore. It made sense now why no one answered the door, why his letters were still in the mailbox, why the fields looked the way they did. I didn't want to acknowledge it. In the back of his mind, he might have already reached that conclusion but was too scared to face it. He was holding on to a string of hope. Hope that he could have been wrong. But his reality was... shattered.
Tears welled up in his eyes at the sad revelation. I wish I had come sooner... so I could have at least bidden him goodbye. He sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes, burying his emotions back in.
"I... actually knew the owner." Pete faced the man. "I was looking for him."
"What? You knew him?" The man's eyes widened in surprise. Shouting at him may not have been the best way to break the news. "I'm... so sorry to hear that. You didn't know that he died?"
"No, I didn't." Pete shook his head. "That's why I'm here."
"I see." The man fixated a friendly gaze. "He died about... oh, six months ago, I reckon."
Six months ago...? That was rather recent. And I had no idea all this time. It was roughly six months ago as well when he didn't receive any replies from the owner. If only I visited last year...
"When I was cleaning out his place, I found his will."
"He left a will...?" Pete asked and raised a brow, curious.
"Yes." He nodded. "In the will, he said 'I am leaving my farm to Pete.' So, until whoever that is shows up, I'm taking care of the farm."
"Huh? To Pete?" His eyes blinked a few times. He pointed at himself. "He left the farm to... me?"
"What? To you?" The man's brows arched. He adjusted his glasses. "Do you mean to say you are the person he's referring to in the will?"
"That's me." He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "My name is Pete."
