Hey guys. I know there's not too many Ray/Maria fans, and even less fanfics for that pairing, but I was thinking about it, and I wanted to maybe redeem the pairing. And, if that's not accomplished, at least maybe I'll entertain you for a few minutes. :] Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon. Drat.

[This story has been edited for slight grammatical and spelling errors. Yes, I am slightly neurotic: :3 ]

The first time I saw her was in the library. She was absentmindedly flipping through the pages of a book, her eyes scanning over the text. I was surprised that she could even lift the heavy book; she was so frail that it looked like a feather could break her in half.

The bell on the library door chimed as I pushed it open. She looked up, her eyes registering my appearance with some level of recognition. She placed a fabric bookmark in the book and shut it, then turned her gaze to me.

"You're Ray, aren't you?" Her voice was surprisingly deep and rich, once again another contrast to her stature.

"Uh, yeah," I blinked. How did she know that?

"I'm Maria," she introduced herself, sticking a pale hand out to me. I found myself at a loss for words; the girl was incredibly straightforward, despite her meek appearance.

"Do you like to read, Ray?" she asked, gesturing to the shelves of books that enclosed her in the small building.

"Eh. I'm more into fishing. I never finished college; I wanted to travel, you know?" I fingered my lucky lure, which was in my pocket. Everyone told me it was dangerous to tote a hook around, especially so close to my body, but it hadn't so much as poked me in the six years I had kept it there.

"'A man who has never gone to school may steal from a freight car; but if he has a university education, he may steal the whole railroad.' Theodore Roosevelt." She eyed me, waiting to gauge my reaction.

"Huh?" I stared at her, trying to interpret the meaning of her words.

She grinned, reopened her book to the page she left off on, and simply said, "Think about it."

*-*-*-*

"Augh," I groaned, pulling my line out of the water. At the end of the lure, a tangle of weeds and gunk were straining against the pole. I sighed, pulled the crap off of my hook, and tossed the lure back into the water.

I looked up, startled, as Maria primly sat down next to me, smoothing the skirt of her demure, schoolgirl-like dress. "Do you just materialize out of nowhere?" I asked the raven-haired librarian. She smiled softly as she watched my lure bob in the river.

"Wh-whoa." There was an insistent tugging on the other end of my line. Quickly, I reeled it back in, only to discover yet another snarl of reeds and soggy moss. Frustrated, I cleaned off my line once again and tossed it back into the water.

"' Optimism is a good characteristic, but if carried to an excess, it becomes foolishness.' Theodore Roosevelt," Maria said, watching me cast my line again. I rolled my eyes and stared intently at the bobber, anticipating the adrenaline rush that always accompanied the catch. Now all that was left to do was wait. I was used to spending this time in solitude; it was unnerving having company. Feeling the need to strike some sort of conversation, and ask for a favor (why not kill two birds with one stone?), I looked over at the girl sitting on the bank, kicking her shoes against the damp soil, and dared to speak.

"Um, so, do you like, uh, math, and stuff?" I stuttered, blushing. I made sure to keep a strict eye on the bobber, but I was keeping my peripherals locked on the petite young woman next to me. Maria looked over at me and brushed a lock of hair behind her tiny ears.

"Well, I have an inclination towards anything to do with learning. I suppose that encompasses mathematics," she enunciated primly, making eye contact with me even as her lips formed the words.

"Uh. OK. Look, I'm having some trouble with, you know, budgeting and stuff, and, well…" This was embarrassing. Not only did I not have a clue how to budget my meager funds, but also I only earned meager funds. And I was admitting it to the only person who had ever taken up a conversation with me.

"Sure, I'll help you. I'll meet you at the library on Saturday at, say, 4:00?"

*-*-*-*

Promptness was a character trait of Maria's, I learned, as I approached the library at exactly four o' clock on Saturday. She was waiting for me at her desk, a chair already pulled up and waiting for me. She had a calculator and a tight bundle of freshly sharpened pencils sitting on her mahogany desk, and she was already sorting through a book called "Finances for the Fisherman." As she spotted me, she handed me the book with a feminine grin on her face.

"Where do you find books like this?" I asked in disbelief, thumbing through the pages. It was perfect for an imbecile like me.

"I'm a librarian, remember? It's my job to find books for patrons." Her chocolate-brown eyes gazed at me, and for a moment, I felt like much more than just a patron.

I sat down next to her, and for the next three and a half hours, she walked me through every aspect of budgeting and finances, even on a small income like mine was. Her notes were detailed, scripted in tidy cursive on a piece of parchment. She joked about money and accountants, and I actually laughed at some of them. Best of all, she didn't demean me or make me feel like an idiot if I didn't understand something, which happened more often than I cared to admit.

Eventually, the conversation died off, and I twiddled my thumbs awkwardly before saying, "You know, I didn't always want to be a fisherman."

"Oh?" Maria put her pencil down, looking me directly in the eye.

"Yeah. I wanted to be a businessman. Climb the corporate ladder, yell at people, tell them what they're doing wrong, you know," I laughed.

"'The best executive is one who has sense enough to pick good people to do what he wants done, and self-restraint enough to keep from meddling with them while they do it.' Theodore Roosevelt," Maria giggled along with me, a rather delicate sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Why didn't you become a businessman?"

I fingered the piece of paper that Maria had jotted notes down on, and sighed. "My father wanted me to become an entrepreneur, like he was. Is," I corrected myself, "and that was my goal. But as I started to grow up a little bit, I realized that I didn't want to be like my father. I didn't want to trample everything and everyone who was in my way of success. I didn't want to spend hours, days, at work, sometimes coming home only to shower and kiss my wife on the cheek before leaving again. I wanted freedom. So, I dropped out of college to- and this sounds cheesy, but I dropped out to find myself."

Maria was silent for a moment, and then quoted, "At a time when most men prosper somewhat some men always prosper greatly; and it is as true now as when the tower of Siloam fell upon all alike, that good fortune does not come solely to the just, nor bad fortune solely to the unjust. When the weather is good for crops it is also good for weeds."

"What does that mean?" I asked, curious.

"Think about it," she smiled, just like she had when I had first met her.

*-*-*-*

She arrived at my door early one morning. It was raining lightly, casting a somber mood on the day. I opened the door, a bit groggy, but awake nonetheless.

"Let's go up to the mountaintop," Maria said, her eyes shining brightly, like a little ray of sunshine.

"Are you crazy?" I muttered, rubbing my eyes. "Look. It's gross out today. Let's go fishing or something." But she shook her head at me in protest.

"There's something I want to show you." She grabbed my coat off of the hook, handing it to me impatiently. I groaned, but humored her by shrugging the coat on and following her up to the mountain.

A cool gust blasted through the Fall air as we ascended cautiously.

"This is dangerous. And hard," I complained, narrowly dodging a loose rock.

"'With self-discipline most anything is possible.' Theodore Roosevelt."

"How do you remember all these quotes?" I grumbled as I gripped her hand tightly, creating a sort of human chain against the strong wind.

"I agree with many of Roosevelt's philosophies and ideas. Plus, I read a lot of his quotes, so I never forget them," Maria explained, jumping aside as a squirrel scurried by her frantically. Again, my instincts told me that it was dangerous to be up here, but Maria kept going, so, against my better judgment, I followed her.

Finally, Maria stopped, a wave of disappointment crashing over her face. "I- I don't understand," she mumbled, her thin eyebrows knitting together. "I- all the books said Fall 13th. And it's Fall 13th. So where is it?"

"What, exactly, are we looking for?" I asked, pulling my hat down further on my face. The rain was getting rougher, and I was losing patience with this little expedition.

She turned to face me, crestfallen. My heart squeezed tightly, painfully. "I- the books said that a very rare flower, which only bloomed for 12 hours once every twenty-three years…" she stumbled over her words. "It's supposed to be right here." She sighed, and shook her head. "I guess we should go back now. What a waste…"

It all happened so fast.

The rain intensified suddenly, and Maria looked up at the sky. As she did, her foot slid on a muddy patch, and she lost her balance. I reached out to her, but my fingers merely brushed her jacket as she fell away from me. I could hear her horrified gasp as she tumbled forward down the slope, falling- falling- until she finally landed near the base of the mountain.

"Maria!" I yelled, racing towards her, groping my way down the hill, using tree branches and huge boulders to steady myself.

She was barely conscious when I reached her. "Maria!" I yelled again, afraid to touch her. I had read enough first-aid handbooks to know that my friend probably suffered multiple internal injuries. My mind raced as I knelt down besides her, panicking. Her thin eyelids fluttered open, registering slightly when she saw me. She weakly gripped my arm.

"'Life must be lived and curiosity kept alive. One must never, for whatever reason, turn his back on life.'"

"Theodore Roosevelt?" I guessed, tears mixing with the raindrops on my face.

"No, Eleanor. Eleanor Roosevelt," she chuckled, before closing her eyes and groaning slightly, settling her head onto the drenched grass of the mountain's base..

*-*-*-*

The mechanical beeping in the clinic set my nerves on edge. I gripped the seat cushion tightly, seeing my knuckles turn white. Maria's father, Mayor Theodore, was pacing back and forth in the waiting room, biting his lip anxiously.

Finally, Alex appeared in the doorway, ashen.

"I- I'm sorry," he said, averting his gaze to the floorboards. Theodore cried out, and my breath escaped me in a rush.

*-*-*-*

Maria Rowan Hamilton died on Fall 13th at 11:33 a.m. She sustained multiple internal injuries, and died from massive internal bleeding.

The funeral was held on a day as dreary as the one on which she died. The entire village gathered, tearfully watching the young woman's body lower into the ground. Friends and family alike cried as they laid Moondrop flowers, her favorites, on the grave.

The library was to be closed until further notice. Everyone avoided the building like the plague, especially Theodore. The mayor asked me to go in and lock up, and, though it killed me to remind myself of anything Maria-related, let alone her brainchild, I obliged.

Maria obviously had cleaned the library spotlessly, so all I did once I was in there was sit in her big librarian's chair and stare numbly at her beloved books and cry for my dead friend.

After a while, I stood up. A sudden flash of white caught my eye, and I leaned over to inspect. I pulled a piece of scrap paper out and read it slowly. There was a sort of list written in a familiar, tight, precise hand. Maria's.

I love:

To read

To quote

To laugh

To learn

To love

To live

To write

To teach

But most of all, I love my dear Ray.

My heart clenched painfully as I brought the letter to my heart.

I love you too, Maria.

Read and Review, loveys! :]

Always,

After Today