The Mayor is Tired

     It's seven PM when the lights turn on in the Mayor's house. A few villagers perk up. The Mayor is their favorite friend. They bring anything they ask and listen to what they have to say, but they haven't been coming out as often anymore. The second oldest villager is planning on moving, the sweetest one's birthday is coming up soon, one doesn't know where his time capsule is and another has been craving perfect fruit but is terrified the tree will die as soon as it's shook.

Everyone notices when they come out. Their hair isn't messy yet, but it's getting close. They are wearing a gray hoodie with matching sweatpants, just as they were when they locked themselves away a week ago. They thumb through their mail while stifling a yawn. After discarding three letters, they begin to go around town with a slow, wobbling stride. They convince the villager to stay, how could they say no to exhausted and pitiful eyes? They know it's the sweet one's birthday and make a note to go get wrapping paper on a beaten up notebook. The time capsule was on the beach, right near the stairs, and the one who asked felt silly for not realizing it. The perfect fruit tree was fine, and the fruit was gleefully consumed by the worried villager.

There were a few hints dropped by some animals regarding the mayor's state. A few lazy ones suggested the Mayor eat food and relax some, but then again, they always suggested this and the Mayor always turned them down. A smug and snooty villager both suggested a glow up, but then immediately undermined it by complimenting themselves. A peppy villager was more direct, "hey Mayor, you don't look so good, how about you just rest up, Okay?" They too were respectfully declined. Bells don't collect themselves after all. Even when a jock villager offered to run around and take care of all the tasks and a normal villager offered to get a list of everyone who needed help, the Mayor refused. The Uchi and Cranky villagers tried to forcefully make the mayor rest, cornering them onto a bench, but they couldn't run as fast and, quite honestly, the Mayor was scary with their silver axe.

"It's my job," the Mayor assured. "It's my job to take care of this town, I got this." And with that the Mayor was off again. They held a net firmly as they shook a pine tree and didn't even blink when they caught the bee from the fallen hive. They shook more and more trees and bells and pianos fell down by their feet. They gathered wayward flowers and planted them in their appropriate sections before watering them. Jacob's ladders had yet to grow, but the Mayor would not lose spirit yet. The Mayor gathered fruit from their various orchards and piled them into baskets until they could no longer be contained.

The bell rang in the town tune as The Mayor stepped into retail. It was a lovely evening, and the warmth of the retail softened their face. Reese, who had been having a light-hearted conversation with her husband a second before, hurried over to the Mayor.

"Oh dear, you don't look so good, Mayor," she trailed off.

The Mayor paid her words no heed. "I have 27 oranges, 9 apples, 18 persimmons, 2 cherries, a bee, a hive and an ebony piano."

"Is that everything, then? That will be 26,650 bells." Reese quickly calculated and accepted the items given. "Ah- but Mayor..."

"I know. I look terrible and should get some rest." Huffed the Mayor. "I have heard as much from all the other townsfolk."

"And you still won't take their advice? I would hate for you to work yourself to the bone. We all really care about you, Mayor."

"Yeah!" called out Cyrus, "what my wife said, you better not be working too hard you hear! I can see those bags from over here!"

"I'm fine." The Mayor insisted.

Reese held her hooves together in worry. She had no real authority over the Mayor, but the Mayor was still very kid like. Excitedly buying gifts or selling amazing creatures. Their eyes used to glow watching auroras and they would smirk as they won the fishing tourney or they would lie back and listen to the calming themes of the town in late night. They seemed so worn, so tired. Dragged through and unable to do anything fun. Life was about optimization now, most money, shortest time. They looked so empty.