Mark decided to continue his study in a big city, leaving his town and his best friend, Chelsea. But, as long as memories stay, maybe it would not be too hard to live the days.

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Disclaimer: Harvest Moon: Island of Happiness © 2008 by Marvelous Interactive.

Notes: third person POV, AU, OC.

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"Guess this means you're leaving already, huh?"

A young girl, dressed in yellow, said in a sad notation. Her lower lip was bitten while her pair of blue diamonds locked themselves to a pair of emeralds just straight from the place they stood.

The owner of the emeralds—a boy with a blue cap resting on his blond hair—could not help but to mimic the girl's expression. It took a while until his lips turned into a simple curve.

"Cheer up, Chels!" he said, giving a pat on the girl's shoulder. "It's not like we won't see each other again. I will call you often… or maybe we could send letters!"

Even though he was no magician, the man's words somehow felt like a calming spell to the girl. Vividly, she could see alphabets began dancing in the air, creating an attraction amusing enough that she could no longer resist the urge to giggle. She even gave her friend a weak punch.

"You're thinking about sending letters? Silly! Seriously, Mark, have you forgotten that your handwriting is too beautiful that my eyes feel like burning every time I read it?"

Mark blushed for a moment. "Oh, thanks. My handwriting sure is beautiful that—" His expression changed in a sudden. "—wait! Did you just tell me that my handwriting is awful? Oh! You'll regret it, Chels!"

His fingers moved quickly in a rhyme and teleported to the brunette's neck, giving several tickles to the music box that it soon burst out with a spoonful of laughter.

"Aha ha ha ha! Stop it!" cried the girl.

"Oh, I'd like to. But my fingers won't listen to me," said the man, still enjoying tickling the girl.

"Alright… Stop it, you two. Mark, stop tickling Chelsea."

It was the voice of an old lady, the one with a kind expression. She wore a thick coat that matches the color of wood to cover her upper body, while grass-colored pants and a pair of slippers covered the parts below. A scarf—with the same color as her pants—rolled around her neck.

Despite had been dressing in warm clothes, her body seemed to shiver a bit. It was quite a windy weather they were in. A blink and the passing air had once again swept them. Some of them managed to barge inside through the tiny holes that the old woman's scarf failed to cover; building an amount of cold that she could not fully resist. At the same time, her feet fought really hard to support her body. If it was not because of the help from her third foot—which end was firmly grasped by one of her hands—she could have fallen anytime and sent everyone into worry.

The woman had stood behind the two youngsters for long. And sure, she had also been watching their silly little fights in silence.

"Come on, Grandma. Just in minutes, I'll be leaving you all soon. I bet Chels will miss my tickles!" Mark explained as his poor target still tried to remove the tickling machine that was circling her neck.

But, unlike what his words managed to do to the young girl, the older lady did not seem to be impressed at all. She made a little movement around her eyebrows and the man sure had known what to do.

"Fine," said the man as he returned his hands to their normal position.

Chelsea, whose throat had been freed from Mark's hands, was dealing with her uncontrolled breath. Both of her palms were covering her knees; which were also covered by her dress, a simple yet pretty one to add. Different flower ornaments—painted in soft orange—spread blurrily around it. They resembled marigolds, with sprinkles of sun-kissed daisies around. Meanwhile, the sleeves could not reach even half the height of the shoulders they were covering, while the body of the dress ended up just a few centimeters below the spot where Chelsea's palms were resting.

It was not like that she loved to wear a dress, anyway. Usually, she would wear short pants instead, since she felt rather uncomfortable when she had to wear things such as skirts.

She would only wear dresses in days that were special.

Like days when she would be able to see couple of birds flying freely in the sky. Or maybe, days when she saw little birds hatched from their eggs, hoping to be able to join their parents one day; watching the years passing by from their homey bed, while feathers start to fill their wings by time. Long enough without knowing, they finally took off, following in their parents' footsteps. Countless unknown journey ahead.

And one of those special days… was today.

Her friend—no, her best friend, and probably the only one she had—would be leaving, soon. Just as what she thought, she was wearing that dress again for an event that would bring a big change to her life.

The thing was… the change that she was about to face today was different from those that she ever hopes for.

Departure.

It was not like she had never experienced it before. She had.

And sadly, not a single farewell had failed to make her magic shelter rained. Every time the word rang, the first thing she could expect were hundred dots of drizzle circling around, collecting themselves into a storm that would shake her whole ground.

She never wanted to feel like that, again.

But, at this moment, she felt the exact pain rushing towards her head and vines, spreading and crushing everything that stood inside, leaving nothing but a darkened shine.

And the fact that the one who would be leaving was Mark had worsened it.

She never wanted him to leave.

All that she dreamed was to have him on her side forever; for him to remain on her heart, being one of the pieces that prevents it from turning into broken puzzles. Together, both of them and her grandmother would live in an endless happiness—a happiness that no one could ever describe.

But, that was not possible, right?

In spite of something that everyone loves to call 'reality', somehow, she still believed there was still a small chance that everything would be as what she always wished for. But, since hearing news about Mark who was going to continue his study in a new city, she knew that reality had declared its win.

He was her best friend. Even more, a figure of an older brother that she never had.

It would never be okay to just let him go, wouldn't it?

Just as tears about to fall from her sparkling sapphires, a shocking melody rolled into her ears. "Hey, Chels! Are you alright?"

Knocked out from her sorrowful thoughts, Chelsea opened her eyes quickly. A single shook followed and just when she was about to answer, Mark jumped.

"Oh, no! Grandma! Chels seems so pale! Tell me it isn't because of the tickles!" Mark exclaimed while pointing at his pale-looking friend. His feet were jumping in odd beats as if they were stepping on a burning heat.

The gray-haired lady smiled. "Well… You do know that tickles can bring bad effects, don't you?"

"Wait! Wait! I… I didn't do it!" His gestures were weirder than ever. "It was just a tickle, umm… two tickles! Okay, a lot of tickles. But, think of it, I had tickled her for many times before and it can't be possible that her face becomes pale because of the tickles, right? I mean, if it was because of the tickles, her face would already turn pale in a long time ago and—"

"I'm fine, silly!"

Chelsea shouted, half-giggling. Her finger was knocking her sky-colored windows, absorbing all of the sadness liquid that spun there. After a few moments, she coughed her hand and continued, "But, the tickles did drain my stamina. I think I need a recharge."

The blond man was relieved and confused at the same time; an eyebrow stood taller than the other one. "What are you talking about? What is this recharge about?"

"Well…" The girl smiled as she took a few steps to the left, arms crossed. "I don't know. Maybe something like grandma's stew, a bar of chocolate… or, perhaps, an apology."

After saying that, she stopped moving as if her shoes had touched a land of sticky mud. Her hair danced with the wind; a reflection of million singing threads, the same feeling that you would get when you saw a field full of sparkling moondrops and pinkcats.

She waited for a few seconds and decided to repeat her request, "Hmm… I expect an apology just now."

"I pick grandma's stew!" Mark exclaimed, lifting one of his arms into an empty space. His palm was covered in glove, making it hard for the breeze to stick its nose there.

"Grandma, is it fine for you to cook her a bowl of stew later? Pleaseee…" The blond man gazed innocently to the grandmother, hoping that a 'yes' would take part in her next audio letter. Chelsea, on the other side, was not expecting the answer and seemed to be completely lost in shock.

"Ho ho ho, I don't think that is what Chelsea means, Mark."

The brown-coated woman finally spoke, too thrilled after seeing the youngsters' hilarious talk, which made her consider them as her all-time favorite comedy act. She then continued, "Something saddens her, Mark. And, I think this something is a someone instead. You do know who is this someone, don't you?"

The blue cap's owner finally understood after a spark of lightning hit him. His hand reached for his friend's shoulder as he spoke, "I'm sorry, Chels. I promise I won't overdo anything again, especially tickling."

Chelsea could not help but to laugh, arms crossed around her belly. Her tears also exploded in the moment, might be a sort of complication that blurted out due to laughing too frequently.

But, actually, she was crying.

Just as he said that, she suddenly remembered one of Mark's statements back then: the one about her that would miss his tickles.

Well, Mark might seem to be overconfident—well, actually, he had always been that kind of person. Then again, his statement was true, after all.

She would definitely miss his tickles, miss his overconfidence, miss the smell of his hair, miss the jokes they always share—

Miss him.

And after laughing for a few seconds, while secretly thinking about those things, she answered his apology, "It's okay, Mark. It's just tickles. Well, it's annoying sometimes but it won't kill me, right?"

Mark sighed in relief. "So, you're fine now?"

"Sure. Better than ever," said the brunette as she nodded.

And right over there, she slipped her tongue, creating a big mistake that people would often address as 'lie'—or, as what she likes to think: a little white lie.

She knew that it was not a good thing to do, but her mind kept asking her to. And so, she repeated the same mistake, "Just don't worry about me. I'm fine. It's not like I can't handle myself—"

And right there, she stopped.

Right when she realized a mix of sad and disappointed look came from an old woman. Right when her eyes turned cold as if they were rotten. Right when an uneasy feeling visited: a brazing storm that shut off all of her lanterns.

Right over there.

When she finally understood, that maybe, just maybe, the pain that had been burdening her could be reduced by telling the truth.

"…Don't go."

Chelsea stared at the taller man while tears started to paint her face.

"…Don't ever go."

Mark was speechless by her words. He sighed and gazed at the morning sky, lost in thoughts for a moment before he reached for the young lady.

"Chels, I wish I could stay. But… I have to go. I need to continue my study so that I can reach my dream."

The girl sobbed even worse than before. There was a pause until she let part of her feelings to soar.

"…Then, ca-can I, we, at least… be… a pa-part… of your dream…?"

Mark was shocked by her question. He never thought that Chelsea would ask him to stay. All that he ever knew was that Chelsea is a strong and caring girl; just the way her grandmother is, just like a replica of an unbreakable statue that stood beyond massive dust.

Who would ever think that a girl like her was completely fragile on the inside?

Whoever those people were, Mark was not one of them. Instead, he was one of the groups that would just stare in silent; his mind numb as he tried to search for words he was not able to think of.

"Chels… I…"

And she hugged him.

Hugged him so tightly as if she tried to trap him in the binding circle forever, silently wishing while desperately yelling inside the barrier. The moment lasted for a while, until the girl's uncontrolled feelings slowly distinguish when a warm glove started to pat her.

The owner of the red glove, who was still in shock because of the hug, lowered his head and whispered calmly, "Chels, you and Grandma are a part of my dream. Even the biggest one."

And the thing that came out from the young lady was a look of disbelief.

"Come here, Chels," he continued, dragging his friend a few steps to the west; to the portal that separates the road from the ocean. There, they sat and let themselves have a little chat.

"See the sky up there?" asked the boy. His finger moved as if it was pulled by a magnetic source somewhere between the clouds.

Chelsea stared at the amusing scenery and then replied with a nod, though the person that was holding her hand did not see it and kept continuing his speech—or maybe, questions.

"Do you know the name of the cloud over there?"

It was a cloud somewhere above the sea that he pointed at, the one that was shaped like a rabbit with three foot—one was longer than the other two—and a tail that was slightly connected to the other clouds. Then again, its ears were pointy and perfect, ready to listen to the longest complain.

And after looking at the hare, whose fur was white with a bit gray cottons stuck around its stomach, the lady beside him answered in an unsure tone, "…Mi-Miss Bunny?"

"Hmm… So, is this the first time you see Miss Bunny?"

Another nod from the brunette.

The blond boy smiled. "Do you think you can see her again?"

"…Si-silly! W-why do you keep asking me… these things? I… I don't get it," she cried in an emphasis.

Mark gave her a mysterious smile. "Just answer it."

Not knowing what her friend was up to, she looked at the yellow garden that slept over her dress and decided to give him his request.

"…I don't know."

The male youngster stared at an empty space as if the lady's reply was there. Then, he let go a spark of enthusiasm into the air; his cap sat still on its favorite chair.

"Do you know how the clouds are formed?"

Just as he asked that, Chelsea felt a huge stone hitting her thinking throne. She had no idea what was behind all of the questions that Mark gave to her. Her mind could hardly reach for even the shortest answer. But, before she was able to send the signal, his letters had already interrupted.

"As you know, the sun shines everyday. And by shining, it radiates its heat, evaporating parts of the ocean," his head tilted a bit, eyes framed at the white cottons above, "the water from these parts of the ocean then change into steam particles and rise to the sky."

The girl portrayed his explanations in her mind as he maintained his progress, "When they reach a certain altitude, they will return into liquid due to the cold temperature around. After that, each and every one of them will gather as a group and form a cloud, or, well, clouds. Then, they will travel around the world. Anywhere the wind blows them to."

"…It… It must be nice," Chelsea commented, a waterfall appeared on her face, "living freely… while having people that you love around…"

"But, Chels, they can't live like that forever," the green-eyed man cut. "Along with their travel, they will meet a lot of gas from the land below. All of those gases will join them, creating heavy amounts for them to lift."

He petrified for a while, letting the birds' chirps painted the peaceful scene around them. Then, he looked at his friend with a little guilty grin. "Once they can't carry themselves anymore, they will fall to the ground. It becomes what we always know as rain."

"…So… they'll die?" asked the wood-haired lady with slight fear and sympathy.

"Of course not!" Mark shouted and patted her shoulder.

"Don't worry, Chels! Some of them will fall into the river and the stream will take them back to the ocean. And once the rain ends and the sun takes back its spotlight, the same events will occur again. It's a never-ending cycle," he added.

"…Umm… So, that means… I can meet Miss Bunny again?"

"True." The smart man answered as he poked the innocent girl's back softly.

The victim of his action felt the pain and was about to do some kind of revenge, although she ended up aborting the plan. It was, once again, because of the guy's unstoppable lines.

"Oh! But, remember this, Chels. You might not recognize her cause she will definitely have a new appearance. It's almost impossible that she and her friends can form the exact same shape of a hare, I mean, bunny again, isn't it?"

He then sighed heavily. "Our lives are indeed the same as them. Not just clouds, but everything. Every single thing in this world will face the same path: the path that will lead us into unfinished endings."

Both of his jewels closed as the wind blew the part of his blond hair which failed to get a space inside his sea-colored cap. It was a very soft wind, traveling about and whispering a couple of mellow chords into his ears.

"And that's why…" Mark continued, "even if we are separated for now, we will meet again someday, whether we have changed or not."

Chelsea stared at him. Something was troubling her.

"…Umm, Mark… If… umm… Suppose you have changed, how will I recognize you?"

"You will, Chels." He opened the curtains that were blocking his spectacles. "Even when you don't know that it's me, you can feel it."

He then stood up. A glimmering blue sky and hundreds of clouds stretched behind him, smiling.

"It's the amazing mystery of memories."

Hmph.

In a moment like this, Chelsea was supposed to feel like he was getting further; that it would be almost impossible for her to see the same figure she used to see back when both of them were just two little children.

But, what she felt was actually the opposite. It was more of a feeling… that he would always be on her side, no matter what.

And even if they were separated by distance, she does not have to feel alone. At least, not for now.

"You should go, Mark." Chelsea finally said. "You know about a lot of stuff: clouds, rain, and all. I think a silly smart guy like you should really keep studying. So, I support you."

And it was a smile that Mark shared after hearing her blessing.

"Anyway," the boy talked again; his hands—umm, red gloves—were sunk in the pocket of his jacket, "do you really think I will change?"

The young lady raised her eyebrow.

"Oh, Come on, Chels! I mean, I'm already smart. Why do I have to change if I already got this bright mind? And, just to add, I'm not only smart but also kind, friendly, and handso—"

NOOOOOOT! NOOOOOOT!

"The ship! You better hurry up, Mark!" Chelsea stood from the place she sat and Mark followed with a tiny sweatdrop.

It took only seconds until he realized something was odd.

"Wait! Where's my bag?" He touched his back and began to panic. "My bag! My bag! Where is my backpack? No… No! Don't tell me that I left it at home. There isn't enough time to get the bag. Oh, nooo!"

"I have your bag, Mark!" Chelsea's grandmother shouted.

"Oh, thank you so much!" The teen ran in hurry. "I can't believe I forgot that you have my bag, Grandma!" he commented, quickly wearing the tiny green case where he kept his belongings.

Grandmother chuckled, "Ho ho ho, Mark… When you're there, you will not have anyone to remind you about your belongings anymore. Be careful and memorize things more carefully, alright?"

"Okay, Grandma! You take care of yourself, too," he exclaimed happily and turned to Chelsea.

"Hey, Chels…"

And there was an awkward silence.

A little moment when all they could do was freeze; their eyes gazed at the other's, absorbing everything they could before they part their ways.

It took a while until the man remembered how to build a sentence.

"Chels… It's hard to say this, but I'm going now. Take care of yourself, okay?"

The lass widened her lips and that was all.

As the boy ran and reached for the ship's entrance, as he waved his hand as a final goodbye, and as she closed her eyes and felt a twist of wind tickled her neck…

She knew that it was already an end.

End for a life where the three of them could knit unlimited threads of laughter. End for a life where they could celebrate both meaningful and mindless conversation; of regular happy days and special days of wishes and candles. End for a life of joyful tears and happiness.

End for a life,

…which would open new days without tickles.

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"Do not worry, dear. He will do just fine."

Chelsea felt a pat on her back. Her grandmother's smile shone like a ray of sun, slipping through her gray chamber. "You will do just fine, too," the older figure continued.

"Yes, Grandma," she said softly. "After all, we're still together." The blue-eyed girl then giggled, letting herself into her grandmother's warm embrace. The wind blew harder but it did not bother her as much as before. A new hope flickered as many beautiful, unspoken words were heard.

Few moments passed and the sound from Mark's ship began to fade; its presence becoming almost transparent, as if the wide ocean would just engulf it in any second. As the ship grew smaller and smaller, she could see the clouds moving along with it; Miss Bunny, now holding hands with her newfound friends, being one of them. A thought came across her mind.

He'll be back one day… I'm sure.

Even if it would take years. Even if that means being apart for so long that they might change into an entirely different person.

It's okay. Mark will still be Mark. Even better. And he'll have a lot of stories to tell, too, by then. It's all good. We had good times. And we'll have more in the future, soon.

Slowly, the young lady regained her strength. She was still scared of what the future might hold. Not to mention that she still had to learn to adapt to the new life chapter she was about to face; one that she was never ready for and might never be. But as long as memories stay, maybe it would not be too hard to live the days, she thought to herself.

Feeling the burden inside her chest began to waver, Chelsea held her grandmother close and smiled towards the horizon.

And somehow, she knew, that Mark was smiling back to them.

A little blink came from the furthest cosmic.

A little smile for the abandoned stick.

Jump into the hole, a comet just passes by,

though the sun had stolen it into the sky.

But, a glimpse of memory had made you blush in shy.

Knowing… that there will never be a goodbye.

Author's notes:

Hello, everyone. It's been a while. This story of Mark and Chelsea was originally meant to be a very long one, but for many reasons, I decided to turn it into a one-shot instead, now with a short extended ending. Thank you so much for reading! :)

*edited. thanks for the comments.