Part 2: Sunny, Nami, and Cyrus

Chapter 1

Spring arrived quietly in Forgotten Valley, slipping into the world with a gentleness that felt almost shy after the long, heavy Winter. The thick layers of snow that had blanketed over the Winter melted into dark, fertile soil, leaving the rivers swollen with fresh mountain water that shimmered beneath the morning sun. Patches of green spread across the valley in hesitant whispers at first, then burst boldly through the thawing earth as though the land itself had awakened from a deep, peaceful sleep. Tiny flowers peeked through the grass along the hillsides, and the trees that had stood bare and silent now carried soft buds ready to bloom at the slightest touch of warmth.

Sunny stepped out onto the porch of the ranch house and inhaled deeply, letting the crisp air fill her lungs. The scent had changed completely — no longer sharp with frost, but rich with the promise of new life. Fresh rain lingered in the breeze, mingling with the earthy smell of wet soil and the faint sweetness of early wildflowers. It was the kind of air that made her chest feel lighter, as if breathing it in could wash away every worry she'd ever carried.

A gentle breeze tugged at the loose strands of hair framing her face as she looked out across the ranch. The pasture shimmered with morning dew, each blade of grass catching the sunlight like tiny pieces of glass scattered across the field. Somewhere in the distance, she heard the cheerful chirping of birds returning from migration, their songs weaving through the valley like threads of music. Even the cows seemed livelier this morning, their soft calls echoing faintly from the barn as though they, too, felt the shift in the season.

Sunny smiled automatically, unable to help herself. Spring in Forgotten Valley felt magical in a way the city never had, no matter how many festivals or flower markets it tried to boast. Back there, Spring mostly meant crowded parks, traffic jams, and allergy season. But here? Here the entire valley transformed before your eyes, every tree and field and winding path slowly coming alive again as though nature itself were stretching after a long, luxurious nap.

And all Sunny could think about was Nami. She leaned against the porch railing thoughtfully, imagining her somewhere out in the valley already, camera in hand and eyes narrowed in quiet concentration. Nami would absolutely lose her mind over the Spring scenery — the rivers sparkling beneath the sunlight, the return of butterflies and songbirds, the endless fields of flowers that would soon bloom across the valley's hidden corners. Sunny could already picture her crouched in the grass adjusting her camera lens, or lying on her stomach trying to photograph tiny wild animals, or standing silently at the edge of a cliff pretending she wasn't completely mesmerized by the sunset.

A soft laugh escaped Sunny before she could stop it, warm and fond and a little helpless.

Then her thoughts drifted back to that Winter evening at the café, to the moment Nami had spoken words that had stayed with her ever since. "And maybe I'll make Forgotten Valley my permanent home someday." The memory wrapped around her like a blanket, warming her from the inside out.

Sunny straightened slightly, gripping the porch railing with renewed determination. "Well," she murmured to herself with a grin, "then I'm gonna help make that happen." The words felt right — steady, certain, and full of promise.

If Nami truly wanted to stay here forever, Sunny would support her in every way she could. More photography projects to keep her inspired. More connections in the city to keep her career thriving. More reasons for her to fall in love with the valley all over again, just as Sunny had. More reasons to stay beside her.

The thought made Sunny's chest feel strangely light, as though something bright and hopeful had taken root there without her noticing.

Sunny stretched her arms high above her head, letting out a long, unrestrained yawn as she stepped off the porch into the crisp Spring morning. The lingering chill clung faintly to the valley air despite the melting snow, brushing cool against her cheeks as she blinked sleepily at the brightening sky. She rubbed at her eyes while wandering toward the barn, her boots crunching softly over the damp earth. Then she stopped abruptly, her entire body freezing mid‑step.

Something sat in the middle of the dirt path ahead. A bassinet.

Sunny blinked once, then twice, her mind struggling to make sense of the sight. The woven basket looked strangely out of place against the peaceful ranch scenery, resting carefully beside the fence as though someone had intentionally placed it there during the night. A soft cream‑colored blanket covered whatever was inside, shifting ever so slightly with the faintest movement beneath it. The stillness of the morning made the scene feel surreal, as if she had stepped into someone else's dream.

Sunny's confusion melted instantly into excitement, her eyes widening with sudden delight. "No way," she whispered, already grinning as her heart leapt with possibility. "Somebody abandoned a kitten?" The idea alone sent a burst of energy through her, and she practically bounced toward the basket with eager steps.

As she approached, a folded note pinned neatly to the edge of the bassinet caught her attention. The paper fluttered lightly in the breeze, its edges crisp and clean as though it had been placed there with great care. Sunny plucked it free and unfolded it carefully, her eyes scanning the short message written in elegant handwriting.

Please give him a good home.

—H.G.

Sunny tilted her head, mouthing the initials silently. "H.G…?" The letters tugged at something familiar, but her thoughts barely had time to form before her attention snapped back to the moving blanket inside the basket. The lump shifted again, more noticeably this time, and Sunny felt her excitement surge all over again.

She crouched beside the bassinet, smiling brightly as she prepared to meet the valley's newest adorable farm cat. "Come on, little kitten," she cooed cheerfully while pulling the blanket aside. "Come to—"

She screamed. Sunny launched backward so violently she nearly slipped into the mud behind her, her arms flailing as she tried to regain her balance. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest as she stared at the bassinet in shock, her breath catching in her throat. Because it was not a kitten. It was a baby.

A very real, very awake baby boy stared up at her with enormous brown eyes, his tiny hands waving curiously in the air as though greeting her. Soft brunette hair framed his round face, slightly messy from sleep beneath the blanket, giving him an almost impossibly gentle appearance. Judging by his size, he couldn't have been more than half a year old, his small body bundled snugly in the cream‑colored fabric that shifted with each tiny movement.

And Sunny could only stare, her mind racing to catch up with the impossible truth sitting quietly in the middle of her ranch.

Sunny's brain completely shut down. For a moment she could only stare at the baby in stunned silence, her thoughts scattering like startled birds in every direction. The valley around her seemed to fall away entirely, leaving only the tiny boy blinking up at her with wide, curious eyes. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs as reality crashed into her all at once.

"…WHAT?!"

The baby blinked at her in silence for exactly one second, his expression perfectly calm in the face of her absolute meltdown. Then he giggled — actually giggled — the sound bright and delighted as though he found her shock deeply entertaining. To make matters infinitely worse, the little boy reached both tiny arms toward her expectantly, as if she were the most familiar person in the world. The gesture hit Sunny like a physical blow, knocking the breath right out of her lungs.

Sunny panicked immediately. "Oh no no no no no—"

Despite her panic, instinct took over almost instantly. She scooped the baby up carefully into her arms, cradling him awkwardly against her chest while he happily grabbed onto the strings of her hoodie with surprising strength. His warmth pressed against her, grounding and terrifying all at once, and she felt her pulse spike as she tried to process the impossible situation unfolding in her hands. The valley had given her many surprises over the years, but nothing even remotely close to this.

Sunny's heart pounded violently. There was a baby in her hands. On her ranch. The thought repeated itself over and over in her mind, each time sounding more absurd than the last. "Who leaves a baby on someone's ranch?!"

She spun in a frantic circle, scanning the ground for clues. A set of footprints, a trail in the dirt, anything that might indicate who had brought him here or where they had gone. But the path was undisturbed except for her own boot prints, and the surrounding fields were empty and silent beneath the morning light. It was as if the baby had simply materialized out of thin air, appearing with no explanation and no trace of whoever had left him.

"Okay," she breathed rapidly, trying and failing to steady her racing thoughts. "Okay okay okay—don't panic. Don't panic." Her voice wavered with every word, betraying the fact that she was absolutely, undeniably panicking.

The baby babbled happily in response, kicking his tiny feet as though encouraging her.

"That is NOT helping!" cried Sunny.

Clutching him securely against her, Sunny immediately turned and sprinted toward Takakura's house as fast as her boots could carry her. The cold morning air whipped past her face, but she barely felt it, too consumed by the sheer absurdity of the situation. Her footsteps pounded against the dirt path, each one fueled by a mixture of terror, adrenaline, and disbelief.

"UNCLE TAKA!" she shouted at the top of her lungs while pounding desperately against the front door. "UNCLE TAKA, WAKE UP, I NEED YOUR HELP!"

Takakura opened the door a few seconds later looking half‑dead, his expression the very definition of someone dragged unwillingly from sleep. His eyes were barely open, his shoulders slumped beneath a wrinkled pajama shirt, and his black hair stuck out wildly in every possible direction like he had fought a losing battle against his pillow all night. He blinked at her slowly, clearly trying to understand why she was screaming before sunrise.

"Sunny," he groaned while rubbing at one eye, "what's the big idea? I'm old. I need my sl—"

Then he noticed the baby in her arms. Takakura froze. His sleepy expression vanished instantly as his eyes widened to a size Sunny was fairly certain human eyes were not supposed to reach. His posture straightened so abruptly it was as if someone had yanked an invisible string tied to his spine, and he stared at her with a mixture of shock and dawning horror.

"…Um, Sunny?" he said slowly. "I can't help but notice there is a BABY in your arms."

"I KNOW!" Sunny cried, her voice cracking under the weight of her panic.

The baby responded by happily grabbing a fistful of her hair. "OW—see?! This is a whole situation!" Sunny cried.

Takakura stepped aside immediately and ushered her into the house, his movements surprisingly quick for someone who had been half‑asleep moments earlier. Within minutes, the baby had been carefully placed on Takakura's bed, where he rolled onto his back and began babbling cheerfully at absolutely nothing. His tiny legs kicked energetically in the air, thumping softly against the blankets as though he were greeting the morning with unshakable enthusiasm. The peaceful innocence of the scene contrasted so sharply with Sunny's panic that it almost felt surreal.

Meanwhile, Sunny paced across the room in complete panic, her boots thudding anxiously against the wooden floor. Her hands flailed helplessly as she tried to make sense of the situation, her breath coming in short, frantic bursts. Every few steps she glanced back at the baby as if expecting him to suddenly vanish or transform into something else entirely. The chaos inside her chest only grew louder with each passing second.

"This is bad. This is REALLY bad. Someone just left a human being on my ranch!" she continued to shout.

Takakura, somehow already calmer than she was, leaned over the bed and studied the baby thoughtfully. His expression softened as he watched the little boy wave his arms and coo at the ceiling, completely unaware of the panic he had caused. The older man's shoulders relaxed slightly, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "…He is pretty cute though."

"NOW IS NOT THE TIME, UNCLE TAKA!"

The baby giggled in response, delighted by the sudden burst of noise. Takakura chuckled despite himself before straightening again, his demeanor shifting back toward seriousness. "All right, all right." He folded his arms and exhaled slowly, letting the weight of the situation settle. "Did you see anybody near the ranch?"

"No, but I did find this," Sunny quickly pulled the folded note from her pocket and handed it over, her fingers trembling slightly as she passed it to him. Takakura adjusted his squint while reading the message aloud, his voice steady despite the absurdity of the moment.

"Please give him a good home? H.G.?"

He frowned deeply, the lines on his forehead tightening as he stared at the initials. His eyes narrowed in concentration, and he tapped the edge of the note against his palm as though hoping the answer might reveal itself if he stared long enough. "H.G…"

Sunny crossed her arms anxiously, her foot tapping restlessly against the floor. "Do you know anyone with those initials?"

Takakura thought for a long moment before slowly shaking his head. His gaze drifted toward the window as if searching the valley for answers that refused to appear. "No," he admitted. "Nobody around Forgotten Valley or Mineral Town comes to mind."

Sunny looked back toward the baby, who was now completely absorbed in the discovery of his own feet. His tiny fingers curled around his toes with intense concentration, and he let out a delighted squeal as though he had uncovered a great secret. The sight softened something in her chest despite the panic still buzzing through her veins. "Whoever his parents are," she murmured, "they must've traveled really far to bring him here." Her brows furrowed tightly as she tried to piece together the impossible puzzle. "But why here? Why the valley? Why MY ranch?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," answered Takakura.

Sunny immediately turned toward him again, her expression tightening with urgency. "What do we do? We can't keep him!"

Takakura rubbed thoughtfully at his chin while pacing once around the room, his steps slow and deliberate. The soft sounds of Spring birds drifted faintly through the window, creating an absurd contrast to the complete chaos unfolding inside the house. He paused near the foot of the bed, his gaze lingering on the baby as though weighing possibilities he had never expected to consider.

Finally, he stopped and exhaled through his nose, "Well, Forgotten Valley doesn't exactly have a mayor or law enforcement."

Sunny blinked. "Now that you mention it… That suddenly feels concerning."

"The closest place that does is Mineral Town." Takakura nodded firmly now that he had settled on a plan, his voice gaining a sense of direction. "Mayor Thomas should be able to help us figure out where the baby came from and how to get him back to his family."

Sunny's eyes immediately lit with determination, her panic shifting into focused resolve. "Then that's what I'll do!"

Takakura nodded back, his expression steady and reassuring. "I'll handle the ranch for today. You take him to Mineral Town and see what you can find out."

Sunny looked toward the baby again. At that exact moment, the little boy looked directly at her and sneezed — a tiny, squeaky sound that startled even himself. Then he smiled proudly afterward, his entire face lighting up as though he had accomplished something incredible. And Sunny felt her heart drop straight into her boots.

Sunny stared at the baby for one long, stunned second before her body moved on instinct alone. She hurried back outside to retrieve the bassinet, her boots splashing through the damp Spring soil as she tried to steady her breathing. The morning light glinted off the woven basket as she lifted it, the weight surprisingly solid in her hands. When she returned inside, she placed the baby gently into the little basket and shifted the bundle of wiggling joy against her hip, still trying to comprehend the absurdity of her situation.

"…This is officially the weirdest Spring ever."

And so, Sunny began her march out of Forgotten Valley and headed toward Mineral Town, her determination burning bright despite the chaos swirling inside her mind. As it turned out, carrying a baby across the valley was significantly harder than Sunny initially expected. The dirt road stretched ahead in a long winding path, and the gentle Spring breeze did nothing to ease the strain building in her arms. Each step felt heavier than the last, but she pressed forward with stubborn resolve.

At first, she marched confidently down the road with the bassinet balanced carefully in her arms, her stride strong and purposeful. She imagined herself arriving triumphantly in Mineral Town, handing the baby over to Mayor Thomas, and solving the mystery before lunchtime. That determination lasted approximately fifteen minutes before reality crashed down on her like a falling tree branch.

"Why," Sunny gasped dramatically while adjusting her grip for the tenth time, "is this child so HEAVY?"

The baby blinked up at her innocently from beneath his blanket, completely unbothered by her suffering. His tiny hands waved lazily in the air, and his round cheeks puffed slightly as he babbled nonsense at the sky. Meanwhile, Sunny's arms felt like they were about to detach from her body and roll down the road without her. The contrast between their moods was almost insulting.

Several times during the journey, she was forced to stop and rest along the roadside. Each time, she carefully lowered the bassinet onto the grass before collapsing beside it with dramatic flair, sprawled out like a fallen hero in a tragic play. The soft hum of Spring insects buzzed around her, and the distant river murmured peacefully, completely ignoring her suffering. She lay there for several seconds each time, trying to regain feeling in her limbs.

"This," she wheezed during one break, "is the hardest thing I've ever carried. I carried sacks of vegetables, milk, and delicate eggs. And this baby somehow is the worst!"

The baby responded by grabbing her finger with surprising strength, his tiny hand curling around hers with warm, trusting certainty. Sunny looked into the bassinet, and her heart instantly melted at the sight of those enormous brown eyes staring up at her. His soft hair framed his face like a halo, and his expression radiated pure innocence. It was unfair how cute he was.

"Oh no," she whispered in horror. "He's too cute!"

The little boy giggled happily, kicking his feet as though delighted by her emotional collapse. Sunny groaned and leaned her head back against a nearby tree, letting the bark press coolly against her scalp. "Don't do that," she warned him weakly. "Don't weaponize adorable behavior against me."

Still, despite her exhaustion, she found herself peeking into the bassinet constantly throughout the trip. Each time she checked on him, he stared back with those impossibly trusting eyes, as if he believed she could solve anything simply by existing. The weight of that trust settled heavily on her chest, making the situation feel even more surreal. She swallowed hard and resumed walking, her steps slower but more careful.

"Don't worry, little guy," she reassured him softly while adjusting her grip once more. "We're gonna find your parents soon enough."

The baby simply stared back at her with those enormous brown eyes, occasionally babbling nonsense like he fully trusted her already. The sound was soft and warm, carrying a strange sense of familiarity that Sunny couldn't explain. And honestly, that made everything emotionally worse — because she already felt responsible for him in a way she absolutely wasn't prepared for.

The road to Mineral Town felt twice as long with a half‑year‑old human being in her arms, and by the time the town finally came into view through the trees, Sunny looked one inconvenience away from collapsing face‑first into the dirt. Her shoulders ached with every step, her arms trembled from the constant weight, and sweat clung to her forehead despite the cool Spring breeze. The cheerful chirping of birds overhead only made her suffering feel more dramatic, as though nature itself were mocking her exhaustion. She trudged forward anyway, fueled by sheer stubbornness and the faint hope that someone in town would have answers.

Residents immediately noticed her struggling through the main street with the bassinet clutched in numb arms. Conversations halted mid‑sentence as people turned to stare openly, their expressions shifting from curiosity to confusion to mild alarm. Sunny felt every pair of eyes burning into her as she staggered past, her breath coming in uneven gasps. The baby, of course, remained perfectly content, blinking up at the world with serene indifference.

Manna nearly dropped her groceries when she spotted the bassinet, her jaw falling open in shock. Sunny noticed instantly and reacted on pure instinct.

"IT'S NOT MINE!"

That somehow only made the situation look more suspicious. Several townsfolk exchanged glances, and Sunny could practically feel rumors forming in real time. She tightened her grip on the bassinet and rushed down the road with renewed urgency, determined to reach the mayor's house before someone decided to ask questions she absolutely did not have the energy to answer.

Flustered beyond belief, Sunny hurried toward Mayor Thomas's house as quickly as her exhausted legs allowed. The walk felt endless, each step heavier than the last, and by the time she reached the front doorstep, her entire body felt ready to file a formal complaint against her. She carefully lowered the bassinet onto the ground, her arms trembling with relief as she finally released the weight. Straightening up, she let out a loud, dramatic groan that echoed across the quiet street.

"Ohhhhh my back…" Sunny stretched stiffly, pressing her hands against her aching shoulders as she took several exhausted breaths. Her muscles throbbed in protest, and she briefly wondered if she would ever feel her arms again. "How," she muttered to herself in disbelief, "do women carry children inside their bodies for three whole Seasons?"

The baby blinked up at her. Then sneezed again. Sunny pointed accusingly at him. "You owe me hazard pay already."

With the last remaining strength in her arms, Sunny knocked on the door. Her knuckles barely made contact before she felt her energy drain completely, leaving her swaying slightly on her feet. A few moments later, the door opened to reveal Mayor Thomas, who greeted her with his usual warm smile.

"Ah, Sunny! What brings you to Minera—"

His sentence died instantly the moment he noticed the bassinet sitting beside her feet. His eyes widened slowly, traveling from the basket to Sunny herself, who was drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, and looked approximately two seconds away from collapsing into his flower bed. The silence stretched between them, thick and bewildered.

Mayor Thomas blinked once. "…Good heavens."

Sunny weakly raised one finger. "Before you ask," she panted, "it's not mine."

The mayor ushered her inside immediately, his expression shifting from shock to brisk concern as he stepped aside to make room. The warmth of the house enveloped Sunny the moment she crossed the threshold, but it did nothing to soothe the ache in her arms or the frantic pounding of her heart. Within minutes, she found herself slumped at the kitchen table, clutching a glass of water with the desperation of someone rescued from the desert. Her breaths came in uneven bursts as she tried to steady herself, her entire body trembling from the long journey.

Meanwhile, the baby rested comfortably inside the bassinet nearby, completely unbothered by the chaos swirling around him. He chewed happily on the corner of his blanket, his tiny legs kicking lazily as though he were enjoying a peaceful morning at home. The soft gurgles he made filled the kitchen with an innocence that felt almost surreal given the circumstances. Sunny watched him with a mixture of disbelief and exhaustion, unable to comprehend how he could be so calm while she was falling apart.

Mayor Thomas adjusted his glasses and looked between Sunny and the child carefully, his expression shifting into something thoughtful. He took a slow breath, as though preparing himself for whatever explanation she was about to give. "So," he said slowly, "would you mind explaining exactly how this happened?"

Sunny immediately launched into the story, her words tumbling out in frantic bursts. "The baby was just THERE!" she exclaimed, gesturing wildly with her free hand as though reenacting the moment. "On the ranch! In a basket! Like somebody dropped him off overnight like surprise mail!" Her voice cracked with disbelief, and she took another gulp of water as if it might help her process the absurdity.

The mayor listened patiently while she explained everything — the note, the initials, the complete lack of mysterious baby‑related knowledge. His expression remained calm and attentive, though his eyebrows twitched occasionally in mild surprise. When she finally finished, Sunny handed him the folded paper with trembling fingers, her breath still uneven from the long walk.

Mayor Thomas read it quietly, his eyes scanning the short message with growing focus. Then he paused, the silence stretching for several long seconds as he stared at the initials at the bottom of the page. His expression changed almost immediately, shifting from confusion to something far more knowing. "…Ah."

Sunny narrowed her eyes. "What does 'ah' mean?"

To her surprise, the mayor smiled. Not confused. Not alarmed. Amused. And suddenly very understanding, as though a puzzle she couldn't solve had just clicked neatly into place for him.

"Oh dear," he chuckled softly while adjusting his glasses again. "I believe I know exactly what's going on."

Sunny nearly dropped her water. "YOU DO?!"

Mayor Thomas folded the note carefully and stood, his movements calm and deliberate. "Come with me."

Sunny stared at him in disbelief, her shoulders slumping dramatically. "…Really?" she groaned. "More walking?"

The mayor merely smiled knowingly, the kind of smile that suggested he had seen this sort of thing before — or at least something close enough to it. With the energy of someone marching toward her final boss battle, Sunny hauled herself upright again. She lifted the bassinet back into her exhausted arms, her muscles protesting instantly as she braced herself for whatever revelation awaited her next.

Mayor Thomas led the way through Mineral Town with a steady, confident stride, completely unfazed by the spectacle forming behind him. Sunny trudged after him carrying the bassinet like a medieval peasant cursed by fate itself, her arms trembling with every step. The weight of the baby felt heavier with each passing moment, as though gravity itself had decided to personally sabotage her. Her boots scuffed loudly against the cobblestone path, announcing her misery to the entire town.

The baby immediately reached toward her hair again, his tiny fingers stretching with determined enthusiasm. Sunny leaned her head away with the reflexes of someone who had already suffered enough for one day. "No," she whispered tiredly, her voice barely more than a plea. "No grabbing. We are surviving right now." The baby babbled in cheerful defiance, clearly unconcerned with her suffering.

Unfortunately, the townspeople noticed immediately. People openly stopped what they were doing to stare, their expressions ranging from confusion to delight to outright shock. Rick and Popuri pointed from across the square, whispering loudly enough that Sunny could hear every word. Old man Mugi gasped so dramatically that Sunny physically heard it echo from the other side of the street, the sound carrying like a theatrical performance. The entire town seemed to freeze around her, turning her walk into a slow‑motion parade of humiliation.

Sunny tried hiding her face behind the bassinet whenever possible, but this mostly resulted in her accidentally tripping over crates, flowerpots, and at one point a very offended chicken. Each stumble sent her heart lurching, and she muttered apologies to inanimate objects as she struggled to regain her balance. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, and she silently prayed the ground would open up and swallow her whole. The baby, of course, found all of this deeply entertaining.

"This is humiliating," she muttered under her breath while the baby happily babbled at passing strangers, waving his tiny hands like a celebrity greeting fans. His cheerful noises only made her feel more ridiculous, as though he were actively enjoying her descent into public chaos. She tightened her grip on the bassinet and kept moving, determined to reach the mayor's destination before she completely lost her mind.

Mayor Thomas, completely unhelpful, simply kept smiling to himself the entire walk. His calm demeanor contrasted so sharply with Sunny's frantic energy that it almost felt intentional, as though he were quietly amused by the spectacle unfolding behind him. He didn't look back once, trusting her to follow despite the growing trail of chaos she left in her wake. Sunny glared at the back of his head, silently promising herself that once this was over, she was going to sleep for an entire Season.

Eventually, they reached the edge of Mineral Town, the familiar buildings giving way to open fields and the quiet stretch of farmland beyond. Sunny blinked when she realized where they had stopped, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten as confusion took its place. The Mineral Town farm stood before them, peaceful and sunlit, its fields already stirring with the early promise of Spring. She slowly turned toward Mayor Thomas, her brows knitting together in suspicion.

"…Why are we here?" asked Sunny.

"You'll understand soon enough," Mayor Thomas said with a knowing smile that did absolutely nothing to ease her nerves.

Sunny narrowed her eyes but followed him anyway, the bassinet still clutched in her aching arms as they crossed onto the farm property. The land was peaceful in a rustic, lived‑in sort of way, with fresh Spring grass reclaiming the fields after Winter's thaw. Rows of soil sat ready for planting beneath the pale morning sun, and chickens wandered lazily near the fences, pecking at the ground with idle curiosity. The distant sound of livestock drifted through the crisp air, creating a sense of calm that sharply contrasted with the chaos swirling inside Sunny's head.

But her attention quickly shifted toward the man standing near the farmhouse. He looked to be around her age, maybe slightly older, with sharp red hair that caught the sunlight like flickering fire. A dark vest hung loosely over a gray button‑up shirt with rolled sleeves, and traces of clay dust covered his clothes and hands from whatever he had been sculpting moments earlier. Several unfinished stone carvings sat beside him on a wooden workbench, their rough shapes hinting at the artistry he had yet to complete. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes sharpened with curiosity when he noticed Mayor Thomas approaching.

"Oh, Mayor Thomas," he greeted casually while setting down his carving tool. "What brings y—"

Then he saw the bassinet. His entire body froze, every muscle locking in place as though he had been struck by lightning. Sunny watched his expression transform in real time from mild curiosity… to absolute panic. The color drained straight from his face, leaving him pale and wide‑eyed.

"It can't be," he whispered.

Then, without another word, he spun toward the farmhouse so quickly he nearly tripped over his own tools. "YUTO!" he shouted at the top of his lungs while sprinting toward the house. "COME OUT HERE QUICK!"

Sunny blinked. "…What is happening right now?" The baby inside the bassinet babbled happily, completely unfazed by the unfolding chaos.

Mayor Thomas folded his arms calmly beside her, looking entirely unsurprised by the scene. His expression held the quiet patience of someone who had been waiting for this moment far longer than he cared to admit. Sunny stared at him, her confusion growing by the second.

A moment later, the farmhouse door burst open. A young farmer hurried outside carrying a baby girl in one arm while carefully holding a bottle to her mouth with the other. He looked around Sunny's age, maybe a little older, with soft brown hair that fell over one eye and warm amber‑brown eyes filled with concern. A bright yellow hoodie hung loosely over a striped blue shirt, and tan cargo pants brushed against blue sneakers dusted lightly with dirt from the fields. His movements were practiced and gentle, the kind of ease that came from caring for a child every single day.

"Brandon, what's going on?" he asked breathlessly.

Then he saw the bassinet. The moment his eyes landed on the baby boy inside it, he froze completely. The bottle nearly slipped from his hand as his breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened with overwhelming disbelief before suddenly filling with emotion, his expression softening into something reverent.

"Oh my goodness…" he whispered. "…It's a miracle."

Sunny's eye twitched. "Okay, someone PLEASE tell me what's happening before I lose it."

Mayor Thomas stepped forward with the expression of a man finally ready to explain the punchline to an extremely confusing joke. "I suppose introductions are in order," he said calmly.

He gestured first toward the farmer. "Sunny, this is Yuto, owner of the Mineral Town farm."

Then toward the red‑haired sculptor beside him. "And this is Brandon, his husband." Brandon waved awkwardly, still staring at the baby in complete disbelief.

Finally, Mayor Thomas looked down toward the little girl in Yuto's arms. "And this," he continued, "is Iris." The baby girl blinked sleepily while clutching her bottle, her tiny fingers curled around it with quiet contentment.

Mayor Thomas smiled. "She is your baby's sister."

Silence fell so abruptly that Sunny almost felt it physically, like the world had paused just long enough for her brain to stop functioning entirely. Her eyes darted around the scene in front of her, trying desperately to assemble the pieces into something that made sense. Two fathers stood side by side, one still pale with shock and the other holding a baby girl who blinked sleepily at the commotion. A mystery baby boy lay in her bassinet chewing on his blanket like this was the most ordinary morning in the world. And somehow, impossibly, this entire situation was apparently being described as a miracle.

Sunny slowly turned toward Mayor Thomas with the expression of someone hanging onto sanity by a single thread. Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt her pulse thudding unevenly in her ears. "…Okay," she said carefully, each word chosen with the precision of someone defusing a bomb. "Seriously. Someone explain this before I explode."

To Sunny's growing horror, Mayor Thomas chuckled. The sound was warm and almost fond, as though he had been expecting this exact chaos for quite some time. "Let's go inside," he said pleasantly. "I believe this story requires everyone sitting down first."

Sunny stared at him for one long second before looking down at the baby boy. The little one looked back at her and giggled, his tiny hands waving as though greeting her personally. Sunny pointed accusingly at him, her voice flat with disbelief. "You are the source of all my problems today."

Inside the humble farmhouse, the atmosphere was strangely peaceful considering Sunny's entire understanding of reality had just been launched off a cliff. The space felt warm and lived‑in, filled with soft blankets draped over chairs and scattered toys that hinted at a home full of gentle routines. The comforting scent of fresh bread lingered from the kitchen, wrapping the room in a sense of domestic calm that clashed violently with Sunny's spiraling thoughts. Near the fireplace sat a wooden crib where both babies now slept side by side beneath thick quilts, completely unaware of the emotional devastation they had caused several adults before noon.

The little girl — Iris — slept peacefully on her back, her tiny chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. Beside her, the baby boy occasionally twitched in his sleep, his small fingers curling around the edge of the blanket as though holding onto a dream. The soft glow of the firelight cast a warm hue across their faces, making them look impossibly serene. Sunny stared at them stiffly from the kitchen table, her posture rigid and her expression wary, as though she expected one of them to suddenly sprout wings or burst into flames.

"…Okay," she said slowly, her voice tight with barely contained tension. "Start talking."

Brandon and Yuto exchanged a glance, the kind that carried entire conversations in a single look, before Brandon finally spoke. His shoulders rose and fell with a quiet breath as he rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck, clearly unsure where to begin. "Well…" he started, his voice gentle with memory. "Last Spring, after Yuto and I got married, we started talking seriously about raising a child together."

Yuto's expression softened immediately, his gaze drifting toward the sleeping babies with a tenderness that made the room feel warmer. "We both wanted a family," he added quietly, the words carrying a sincerity that settled deeply into the space between them. His fingers brushed lightly against Iris's quilt, as though grounding himself in the reality of her presence. The affection in his eyes made it clear that this dream had lived in his heart long before it became real.

Brandon nodded. "So one night, we prayed to the Harvest Goddess."

Sunny blinked, "You WHAT?"

Mayor Thomas calmly sipped his tea beside her like this was the most ordinary sentence in the world, his expression serene and unbothered. Brandon continued the story with complete sincerity, his voice steady despite Sunny's growing disbelief. "We asked her to bless us with a child. Honestly, we didn't really expect anything to happen. It was more of a hopeful prayer than anything else."

"But then," Yuto said softly, "late in Winter…"

His expression turned distant, as though he were reliving the moment even now. His eyes softened with awe, and his voice dropped to a reverent whisper. "One morning, she appeared."

Sunny jaw nearly dropped to the floor, "The ACTUAL Harvest Goddess?"

"Yes," Mayor Thomas answered calmly.

Sunny looked at him in horror. "WHY ARE YOU SAYING THAT SO CASUALLY!"

Meanwhile, Brandon continued the story with the same earnestness as before, completely unfazed by her spiraling. "She appeared in a burst of light right here in our home." His eyes drifted toward the crib again, filled with quiet wonder. "And when the light faded… there were two babies."

Sunny stared at him.

"A little boy," Yuto added softly, "and a little girl."

Sunny slowly turned toward the sleeping crib. Her gaze lingered on the two tiny forms nestled beneath their quilts, their breaths soft and steady in the warm glow of the fire. Then she looked back toward the couple. Then back toward the crib again. Her thoughts tangled into knots she couldn't begin to untie.

"My brain hurts," she whispered.

Brandon smiled sheepishly, his expression apologetic yet full of lingering awe. "The Harvest Goddess told us we could only choose one child to raise ourselves."

"And you picked Iris," Sunny said quietly.

Yuto nodded immediately. "The moment I held her, I knew. This was going to be our daughter."

Brandon reached over and squeezed his husband's hand gently, the gesture small but full of meaning. Their shared smile carried the weight of a choice made with love, not obligation. The warmth between them filled the room with a sense of peace that contrasted sharply with Sunny's rising panic.

"But before she left," Brandon continued, "we asked what would happen to the baby boy."

The room grew quiet for a moment, the silence settling like a held breath. Even the fire seemed to crackle more softly, as though listening. Then Brandon smiled faintly, his voice gentle with memory. "The Harvest Goddess just smiled and told us she would make sure he was given to a deserving parent."

Sunny froze, "…Parent?"

Nobody answered immediately, which somehow made it infinitely worse. Sunny pointed toward herself with growing alarm. "WAIT. HOLD ON. You can't possibly mean... me?"

Mayor Thomas gently reached into his pocket and unfolded the note Sunny had found earlier that morning. His movements were slow and deliberate, as though guiding her toward a truth she wasn't ready to face. "Sunny," he said patiently, "the initials on the note."

He placed it carefully onto the table. "H.G."

Sunny stared down at it. The letters seemed to pulse with meaning now, each stroke of ink carrying a weight she hadn't understood before. Her breath caught as realization crept over her like a rising tide. Then her eyes widened in slow, dawning horror.

"…Harvest Goddess," she whispered.

Mayor Thomas nodded.

"Which means," Brandon said carefully, "she chose you."

Silence filled the farmhouse so completely that Sunny could hear the faint crackle of the fire and the soft rustling of quilts in the crib. She looked toward the sleeping baby boy again, her breath catching as he yawned in his sleep, tiny mouth opening in a perfect little O before he settled again. The sight struck her with unexpected force, as though the universe had paused just long enough for her to feel the full weight of the moment. For perhaps the first time in her entire life, Sunny genuinely had no idea what to say.

But still… she sat quietly at the kitchen table, staring at the sleeping baby boy nestled beside Iris in the crib. The farmhouse had fallen into a soft hush, broken only by the crackling fireplace and the occasional sleepy noises from the babies. Tiny rays of Spring sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting warm golden patches across the wooden floor and illuminating the peaceful scene with gentle warmth. The quiet felt almost sacred, as though the valley itself were holding its breath.

The baby boy shifted slightly in his sleep, his small hand brushing against Iris's quilt. Sunny's chest tightened unexpectedly, a strange ache blooming beneath her ribs. She swallowed hard, her voice barely more than a whisper when she finally spoke. "I… I'm not ready to be a mother."

Her voice sounded smaller than usual. More vulnerable. The kind of honesty she rarely allowed herself to say aloud. Brandon and Yuto listened silently while Mayor Thomas folded his hands patiently atop the table, his expression calm and understanding.

Sunny rubbed nervously at her sleeves, her fingers fidgeting with the fabric as she tried to steady her thoughts. "I mean, yeah… back in Fall, I said I wanted a little boy someday." A nervous laugh escaped her, thin and shaky. "But I figured there were supposed to be steps before that happened."

Yuto tilted his head slightly. "Steps?"

"Like dating," Sunny said while counting dramatically on her fingers. "Then marriage. Then maybe emotionally preparing myself to keep another human alive."

Brandon chuckled softly, the sound warm but not mocking. Yet Sunny's smile faded almost immediately as she looked toward the crib again, her expression tightening with uncertainty. "I'm just…" She exhaled shakily, her shoulders slumping. "I'm twenty years old. I barely know what I'm doing half the time."

Mayor Thomas nodded gently, his voice soft with empathy. "If you truly do not wish to raise him," he said kindly, "then I can take the child to the city myself. We would find another loving family willing to adopt him."

Sunny swallowed hard, her throat tightening painfully.

"That way," Thomas continued softly, "he would still have a good home."

The room fell silent again, the quiet settling heavily around her. Sunny looked toward the sleeping babies, her gaze lingering on the little boy. At some point, he had shifted closer toward Iris in his sleep, their tiny hands resting near one another beneath the blankets. The sight pierced straight through her, sharp and unexpected.

And suddenly, painfully, Sunny understood something. If he left for the city… They would probably never see each other again. Brother and sister. Separated before they were even old enough to remember each other.

The thought hit her far harder than she expected, knocking the breath from her lungs. Her fingers curled tightly around the edge of the table as she tried to steady herself, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and something far deeper.

Mayor Thomas slowly stood from the table, clearly interpreting her silence as uncertainty. "I'll make arrangements," he said gently.

He carefully approached the crib and reached down toward the sleeping baby boy. And instantly, something inside Sunny snapped. Maternal instincts.

Every moment from the day flooded through her mind at once. The baby reaching for her hair. His tiny fingers grabbing hers during the walk. His sleepy little sneeze. The way he looked at her with complete trust despite only knowing her for a few hours. The idea of handing him over suddenly felt unbearable, like tearing something vital out of her chest.

"Wait!"

Everyone froze. Sunny stood abruptly from her chair, heart pounding wildly in her chest. Her breath trembled as she stared at the crib, her decision forming faster than she could process it.

"I'll raise him." The words came out before she could stop them, raw and certain and terrifying.

Silence followed, thick and stunned. Then Brandon gasped softly, his hand flying to his mouth. Yuto's eyes widened before his expression melted into visible relief and joy, his shoulders relaxing as though a weight had been lifted.

And Mayor Thomas… Simply smiled. A warm, knowing smile. "I knew, the Harvest Goddess chose the right person."

Sunny looked toward the crib again, her breath catching as the baby boy stirred beneath the quilt. He yawned sleepily, his tiny mouth opening wide before his brown eyes blinked open and focused directly on her. The innocence in his gaze struck her with unexpected force, as though he recognized her in a way she couldn't begin to understand. Then he smiled — small, warm, and impossibly trusting.

And just like that, Sunny realized her life had changed forever.

By the afternoon, the group had relocated to Mayor Thomas's house to handle the official adoption paperwork. The dining room felt strangely formal compared to the farmhouse, its polished wooden table now covered in neat stacks of documents and ink pens arranged with meticulous care. Sunny sat stiffly at the table with the baby boy resting quietly in her arms, still struggling to process the fact that this was actually happening. Her thoughts drifted in and out of focus, as though her mind couldn't decide whether to panic or simply surrender to the moment.

Papers covered the table in organized piles while Mayor Thomas adjusted his glasses and filled out forms with calm efficiency, as though surprise divine parenthood happened every other week in Mineral Town. His steady movements contrasted sharply with Sunny's internal chaos, grounding the room with a sense of practiced routine. Meanwhile, Sunny felt like her brain had completely disconnected from reality, floating somewhere above her head while her body went through the motions. She was about to become somebody's mother. Actually somebody's mother.

The thought should have terrified her more than it did. And yet… as the baby boy looked up at her with those impossibly wide brown eyes, tiny fingers curling around the sleeve of her jacket, Sunny couldn't stop herself from smiling back at him. The warmth in her chest grew with every small movement he made, settling into a place she hadn't realized was empty until now. The fear didn't vanish — but it softened, reshaped by something gentler.

"Well then," Mayor Thomas said while uncapping his pen, "we should decide on a name for the little fellow."

Sunny blinked. A name. Her mind scrambled for something meaningful, something fitting, something that felt like him. Her eyes drifted toward the crib nearby where Iris slept peacefully beneath a blanket while Yuto and Brandon watched with quiet excitement, their expressions full of hope.

"Iris…" Sunny murmured thoughtfully. Then suddenly, the answer came to her — clear, certain, and warm. "I think his name should be... Cyrus."

Mayor Thomas raised his brows approvingly, the corners of his mouth lifting. "Bold choice, Sunny!"

Brandon grinned immediately, his excitement bubbling over. "Cyrus and Iris. That actually sounds adorable together." Yuto nodded enthusiastically in agreement, his eyes shining with genuine joy.

Mayor Thomas carefully wrote the name onto the paperwork before turning the documents toward Sunny. His expression softened as he slid the final form across the table. "All right then," he said gently. "Please sign the birth certificate."

Sunny stared at the papers. One signature. That was all it would take. A life‑altering decision written in ink, binding her to a future she had never imagined when she woke up that morning. Her stomach twisted nervously, her fingers hovering uncertainly above the pen.

But then Cyrus let out a tiny sleepy noise and reached upward toward her again, his little hand brushing against her wrist with soft, instinctive trust. The touch was small, but it carried the weight of something profound — a connection she hadn't asked for but already felt deeply. And somehow… that settled it.

Sunny exhaled softly, picked up the pen, and signed her name. The moment the pen lifted from the paper, Mayor Thomas smiled warmly, the expression softening the lines around his eyes. His voice carried a gentle pride as he straightened the documents and set them aside with deliberate care. "Well," he declared proudly, "congratulations, Sunny. Cyrus is officially yours." The words settled into the room like a quiet bell, ringing with a finality that made Sunny's breath catch.

Sunny looked down at the baby boy in stunned silence, her heart thudding unevenly in her chest. The word 'yours' echoed through her mind, terrifying and strangely wonderful all at once. It felt too big, too heavy, too miraculous to fit inside her body, and yet it warmed her from the inside out. Cyrus shifted slightly in her arms, his tiny fingers curling against her shirt as though claiming her in return.

To celebrate the adoption, Yuto and Brandon insisted on putting together an enormous baby care package before she left. Their enthusiasm filled the farm house with bustling energy as they moved from room to room gathering supplies with the efficiency of seasoned parents. By the time they finished, Brandon had assembled a heavy baby bag overflowing with diapers, bottles, blankets, formula, baby powder, toys, and approximately twelve items Sunny couldn't even identify. The bag looked less like a care package and more like preparation for a long expedition into the wilderness.

Brandon proudly handed her the massive bag, his grin bright and unrestrained. "You're definitely gonna need all of this."

Sunny peeked nervously inside the bag, her eyes widening at the sheer volume of supplies. "…There's so much stuff."

Yuto laughed sympathetically, his voice warm with shared experience. "Welcome to parenting."

Sunny groaned quietly, her shoulders slumping beneath the weight of both the baby, the bag and her new reality. As Cyrus slept peacefully against her shoulder, she stared at the overwhelming bag of baby supplies weighing on her shoulder. The sight made her feel both prepared and completely unprepared at the same time, as though she were stepping into a role she had never rehearsed for. Her mind raced with questions she didn't yet know how to ask.

All she could hope now… was that Takakura wouldn't completely lose his mind when she returned to the ranch carrying a baby and enough supplies to survive an apocalypse. The thought alone made her wince, imagining his expression when she walked through the door with Cyrus in her arms. The valley had seen strange things before, but this — this was something else entirely.

And yet, as she held Cyrus close, Sunny felt a quiet certainty settle into her chest. Whatever came next… she wouldn't face it alone.