Chapter 3

The following morning dawned cool and bright, the first true morning of Spring settling gently over Forgotten Valley like a soft exhale. Sunlight spilled through the window of Nami's room at the inn, illuminating drifting specks of dust that floated lazily through the quiet air. Outside, birds greeted the new day with cheerful songs, their melodies carried on a crisp breeze scented with fresh grass and damp earth. The world felt newly washed, as though the valley itself had awakened with a sense of quiet anticipation.

Nami slowly opened her eyes, blinking away the last traces of sleep. For a few still moments she simply lay there, staring at the wooden ceiling above her as her mind pieced together the fragments of yesterday. A mysterious baby left on Sunny's porch. The Harvest Goddess's involvement. Sunny's radiant smile as she introduced Cyrus. And the tiny hand that had reached up to pat Nami's cheek with innocent trust. Each memory drifted through her thoughts like scattered puzzle pieces waiting to be arranged.

"…Morning," she murmured to herself, her voice barely more than a breath.

After dressing in her usual traveling clothes, she slung her camera comfortably over one shoulder before leaving the inn. Photography had always helped organize her thoughts. Looking through a camera lens slowed the world down, narrowing her focus to details she might otherwise overlook. It was a quiet ritual she relied on, especially when her emotions felt too tangled to name.

Forgotten Valley was just beginning to stir awake. The fields shimmered with dew, each blade of grass catching the early sunlight like tiny shards of glass. Wildflowers peeked through the fresh Spring growth, their colors soft but determined. The river sparkled beneath the morning sun, its gentle current weaving silver ribbons through the landscape. Overhead, birds darted between budding branches, their wings flickering like quick brushstrokes against the sky.

Nami wandered without any particular destination, allowing instinct to guide her feet. The camera hung lightly at her side, swaying with each step as she moved through the valley's quiet morning. She didn't know where she was going. She only knew she needed space — space to think, space to breathe, space to understand what yesterday meant for her life and for Sunny's. And somewhere beneath all that, space to understand what it meant for Cyrus.

A sudden flutter caught Nami's attention, pulling her gently out of her wandering thoughts. Near the edge of a grassy meadow, two rare birds with brilliant emerald feathers pecked quietly at the soft earth. Their crimson markings gleamed whenever they lifted their heads, the colors striking and vivid against the pale green hillside. The sight felt almost unreal in the soft morning light, as though Spring itself had decided to offer her a private moment of beauty.

Without making a sound, Nami crouched low, her movements slow and deliberate. She eased herself onto her stomach, careful not to disturb the grass or startle the birds. The familiar weight of her camera settled comfortably in her hands, grounding her with its steady presence. She adjusted the focus ring with practiced precision, her breath quiet as she waited for the perfect moment.

The birds continued searching for insects, blissfully unaware of her presence. Their tiny claws scratched softly at the earth, and their feathers shimmered each time they shifted beneath the sunlight. Nami felt her heartbeat slow, her thoughts settling into the calm rhythm she always found behind a camera lens.

Click. One bird tilted its head, its crimson crest catching the light.

Click. The second stretched its wings, revealing a brilliant fan of emerald and red.

Click. Morning sunlight danced across their feathers, turning them into living jewels against the meadow's gentle backdrop. For several peaceful minutes, Nami photographed the pair as they hopped around the meadow, occasionally chirping softly to one another. The quiet intimacy of the moment wrapped around her like a warm blanket, easing the tension she hadn't realized she was carrying.

Eventually, one bird gave a sharp call, and both launched gracefully into the air. Their wings cut through the sunlight as they soared upward, disappearing beyond the treetops in a burst of color. Nami lowered her camera with a satisfied nod, feeling a small but genuine sense of accomplishment settle into her chest.

"Beautiful."

She brushed the dirt from her sleeves before standing and stretching her back, her muscles relaxing as she rose. The valley stretched out before her in soft hues of green and gold, peaceful and familiar in a way that always made her feel strangely grounded. As she looked across the landscape, her eyes naturally drifted toward the ranch sitting quietly in the distance.

Sunny's ranch. Only yesterday, Sunny had become a mother.

The thought still felt surreal, lingering in her mind like a half‑formed dream she wasn't sure how to interpret. And yet, as the morning breeze brushed gently against her face, Nami felt the weight of that truth settle deeper into her heart.

Nami rested her camera against her hip as she watched thin curls of smoke rise from the ranch chimney in the distance. The sight drifted upward in soft spirals, blending with the pale morning sky and giving the valley a sense of quiet domestic calm. Yet the peacefulness only made the tightness in her chest more pronounced, reminding her of everything that had changed in less than a day. Yesterday had been supposed to be different. Very different.

She had walked to that very ranch with a Blue Feather tucked safely into her pocket, its soft plume brushing against her fingers each time she checked to make sure it was still there. She had rehearsed the words countless times during the previous week, whispering them into the stillness of her room until they felt steady and sure. She had imagined Sunny's expression, the warmth in her eyes, the way her smile would bloom with gentle surprise. She had been ready—truly ready—to ask Sunny to marry her.

Instead, she had opened the front door to find Sunny holding a half‑year‑old baby boy.

Nami sighed quietly, the sound barely audible beneath the morning breeze. "Cyrus…" His name came naturally now, settling into her thoughts with surprising ease. She looked down at the grass beneath her feet, watching the blades sway gently as though responding to her uncertainty. The proposal hadn't disappeared. It had simply… stopped. Suspended in place like a breath she hadn't finished taking.

Not because she loved Sunny any less. But because everything had changed in the span of a single morning. Marriage wasn't the only question anymore.

She could picture Sunny's bright smile without any difficulty, the way it lit up the farmhouse like sunlight through an open window. She could picture evenings at the ranch, quiet moments spent side by side while the world softened into dusk. Morning coffee together. Music drifting through the farmhouse while Sunny danced around the living room with carefree joy. Those images had once filled her with quiet certainty, painting a future she could almost reach out and touch.

Now, there was another image beside them. A little boy with brown hair and curious eyes. A child who had already begun calling that ranch home. A child who had reached for her without hesitation, trusting her before she had even understood what was happening.

Nami folded her arms tightly across her chest, the gesture instinctive and protective. "…I don't know if I'm ready." The admission escaped in little more than a whisper, carried away by the breeze before it could linger too long. She wasn't just deciding whether she wanted to marry Sunny anymore. She was deciding whether she could become part of Cyrus's life. Whether she could love him. Whether she could be the kind of person a child deserved.

The questions pressed against her heart with quiet, relentless weight—questions she had never imagined she would need to answer. And for the first time in a long time, Nami realized she didn't know where her next step would lead.

A gentle breeze stirred through the meadow, carrying with it the distant sound of laughter drifting from somewhere near the ranch. The soft echo of it rose and fell with the wind, threading through the quiet valley like a warm reminder of life beginning anew. Nami looked up instinctively, her gaze drawn toward the familiar hills and the farmhouse nestled against them. For a moment she simply stood there, letting the breeze brush against her face as she steadied her thoughts.

"…One day at a time." The words left her in a quiet promise, spoken more to herself than to the valley around her.

With that small anchor set in place, she adjusted the strap of her camera and continued walking through Forgotten Valley, hoping that somewhere between the changing Seasons and the photographs still waiting to be taken, she might find clarity. The morning stretched on gently as she wandered, her footsteps carrying her across familiar paths and quiet fields. After another hour of walking, she lowered her camera and looked toward the ranch nestled against the rolling hills, its chimney still trailing faint curls of smoke into the sky.

"I should check on them," she whispered, the decision arriving softly and without resistance. It felt natural—almost like breathing—something her heart had already chosen before her mind caught up.

She followed the dirt path leading around the ranch, passing fields where fresh Spring crops were just beginning to emerge from the earth. The soil looked rich and dark, promising new growth in the weeks ahead. The ranch itself looked much the same as it always had, though somehow it already felt different. There was a new kind of life here now—one measured not by harvests or livestock, but by naps, bottles, and the unpredictable schedule of a baby. The air around the farmhouse carried a subtle shift, a quiet hum of change that settled into the land like a new rhythm.

Near the pasture, Takakura was repairing a section of fencing, humming softly to himself as he hammered a loose board back into place. His movements were steady and practiced, each strike of the hammer echoing with the calm certainty of someone who had spent decades tending to the valley's needs. He looked up as Nami approached, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

"Morning."

"Morning," Nami replied, her voice gentle. She glanced toward the house, noting the stillness around its porch. "Where's Sunny?"

Takakura chuckled knowingly before resting both hands atop his hammer. "In the house getting used to being a mother."

Nami couldn't help the faint smile that tugged at her lips. "How's she doing?"

The old rancher laughed, the sound warm and full of quiet amusement. "You should ask her yourself."

Nami nodded before making her way toward the front porch of the ranch house. Her boots pressed softly into the earth, each step carrying the weight of thoughts she had tried—and failed—to untangle since yesterday. She sighed as the memory of her planned proposal flooded her mind, the Blue Feather she had carried feeling suddenly heavier in her recollection. Everything had been so carefully prepared, so quietly hopeful, until the moment she opened the door and found a surprise baby in Sunny's arms. The derailment still echoed through her chest, sharp and disorienting, though she reminded herself why she was here now. She needed to make sure Sunny was surviving parenthood.

She knocked twice, the sound muted against the wooden frame. A moment later, the door creaked open.

"…Hi."

Sunny stood in the doorway wearing yesterday's clothes beneath an oversized cardigan that hung loosely from her shoulders. Her braids had all but surrendered overnight, leaving pink‑and‑brown strands sticking out in every direction as though she had fought a tornado and barely escaped. Faint shadows rested beneath her eyes, soft smudges of exhaustion that contrasted with the bright smile she offered. Despite the warmth in her expression, Nami immediately recognized the unmistakable look of someone who hadn't enjoyed a full night's sleep.

"…You look tired," Nami observed, her voice gentle.

Sunny laughed sheepishly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek. "Is it that obvious?"

Nami simply raised an eyebrow, the gesture small but unmistakably amused. Sunny stepped aside with an embarrassed grin, her posture softening as she opened the door wider. "Come on in." Her voice carried a tired warmth, the kind that came from both joy and sleeplessness woven together.

The ranch house was unusually quiet, wrapped in the kind of stillness that only mornings could create. Soft sunlight spilled across the wooden floorboards, warming the edges of the room in gentle gold. Near the bed sat Cyrus's bassinet, its woven frame casting faint shadows across the floor. The little boy slept peacefully beneath a pale blue blanket, one tiny hand curled beside his cheek as he breathed in slow, rhythmic sighs. The sight was tender enough to make the entire farmhouse feel smaller, softer, and more fragile.

Nami instinctively lowered her voice. "He's asleep."

"For now," Sunny whispered dramatically, leaning in as though sharing a secret. "He'll wake up again when he's hungry."

The two women settled onto the bed, instinctively keeping their voices soft enough not to disturb the baby. The mattress dipped slightly beneath their weight, and the quiet between them felt comfortable, familiar. Nami glanced toward the bassinet before turning back to Sunny, her expression gentler than she realized.

"So…" A tiny smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. "How's mom life going?"

Sunny chuckled awkwardly, her shoulders lifting in a helpless shrug. "Oh, you know, everything's fine."

Nami waited, her silence patient and expectant.

Sunny scratched the back of her head, her cheeks warming. "Yesterday he discovered that spoons make funny noises when you hit them against the table. And I just learned that babies apparently crawl faster than I thought."

Nami nodded, her tone dry but affectionate. "You don't say."

"And…" Sunny smiled despite herself, her exhaustion briefly eclipsed by fondness. "He absolutely refuses to nap unless I hum something. So now I'm apparently a lullaby machine."

Nami's lips curved into the faintest smile, her voice low and warm. "Yeah, kids love the voice of their mother. Soon enough, you can play something on the record player to keep him asleep."

Sunny brightened. "Oh! And this morning he somehow managed to pull one of my boots all the way into the living room. He's a strong boy! I still have no idea how he did it."

Nami glanced toward the peacefully sleeping baby, her expression softening. "He's efficient. He must have gotten that from you."

Sunny laughed, her eyes sparkling with tired pride. "I know!"

As the conversation drifted into a comfortable silence, Nami's eyes wandered slowly around the farmhouse. It wasn't intentional. She simply… noticed things. The bassinet rested beside the couch, its woven frame casting faint shadows across the floor. A small stack of diapers sat neatly folded beside it, ready for use. Several baby bottles had been washed and left to dry on a towel near the sink, their glass catching the morning light. Containers of formula occupied one corner of the kitchen counter, while a handful of simple wooden toys Brandon and Yuto had packed into the baby bag were arranged within easy reach.

Everything Sunny had brought back from Mineral Town had already found a place. But… that was all there was. Nami's gaze drifted slowly across the rest of the house, her eyes searching for something that wasn't there. No nursery. No crib. No changing table. No dresser filled with tiny clothes. No blankets folded neatly into baskets, no shelves lined with storybooks or stuffed animals. Nothing that suggested someone had spent months preparing for a child. Only the bare necessities packed by two grateful fathers, their hurried generosity filling the gaps where planning had never existed.

Her gaze returned to Cyrus, sleeping peacefully in the bassinet, his tiny chest rising and falling with steady rhythm. "…Sunny."

"Hm?"

"When are you going shopping?"

Sunny blinked, caught off guard. "Shopping?"

"For baby furniture." Nami gestured around the room, her tone quiet but firm. "A crib. A changing table. More clothes. You know, everything else."

Sunny followed her gaze around the farmhouse, her expression shifting as she truly looked at the space for the first time. Only then did she seem to notice how empty it appeared, how bare it felt beyond the essentials. She rubbed the back of her neck with an awkward laugh, her cheeks warming faintly.

"I… hadn't really thought about it."

Nami's eyes lingered on her, steady and unreadable. Sunny smiled sheepishly, her voice softening. "I mean… I wasn't exactly planning on becoming a mom yesterday."

"I guess that's fair."

Sunny leaned back against the wall, her gaze drifting toward Cyrus with a warmth that softened her entire face. "Everything happened so fast. Uncle Taka's been working extra hard on the ranch while I stay home with him." Her voice carried a quiet mix of pride and exhaustion, the kind that only came from sudden responsibility. "The supplies Brandon and Yuto gave me should last a little while. And when we save up a bit more money, we'll start buying everything else."

Nami remained quiet, her gaze sweeping once more across the little farmhouse. The silence pressed gently against her thoughts, and though she said nothing, she could see the truth clearly. Sunny was doing everything she could with what she had. But everything she had wasn't very much. The effort was undeniable, yet the scarcity lingered in every corner of the room.

Her eyes settled on the bassinet again. Cyrus was already beginning to outgrow it, his small frame stretching just enough to make the space feel temporary. The realization lingered quietly in the back of her mind, heavy and insistent. It was a reminder that time moved quickly, and babies did not wait for anyone to catch up.

Sunny, meanwhile, smiled toward her son with the same unwavering optimism she had shown from the very beginning. "We'll get there." She nodded confidently, more to reassure herself than anyone else. "One thing at a time."

Nami watched her for a long moment, her expression unreadable. She believed Sunny meant every word. She also knew babies didn't wait for savings accounts to catch up. They grew every single day, their needs expanding faster than plans could be made. And somehow, without saying a word, Nami had already begun making a list in her head—crib, dresser, blankets, clothes, storybooks. The essentials Sunny hadn't yet thought to gather.

After chatting for a little while longer, Nami rose from the bed, her movements quiet and deliberate. "I should let you get some rest."

Sunny nodded gratefully, exhaustion softening her smile. "Probably a good idea."

She walked Nami to the front door, balancing Cyrus against one shoulder. The baby slept comfortably, his cheek pressed against Sunny's cardigan as though he had found the safest place in the world. "Thanks for checking on us."

Nami gave the baby one last glance, her voice steady. "I told you I would."

Sunny smiled, her eyes warm despite the shadows beneath them. "I'll see you later?"

"Yeah." Nami slipped her hands into her pockets before quietly making her way back toward the valley. Her footsteps carried her across the dirt path, each one accompanied by the weight of thoughts she couldn't quite silence. She walked quietly all the way back to the inn, her mind filled with images of Sunny and Cyrus, and the growing certainty that she needed to find a way to help.

Instead of climbing the stairs to her room, Nami stopped in the lobby. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the front windows, painting the space in soft gold. Lou stood behind the counter arranging fresh flowers into a ceramic vase, humming softly to herself as she worked. The gentle rhythm of her song filled the room with a sense of calm.

She looked up and smiled warmly at Nami. "Oh! Hello, dear."

Nami hesitated, her weight shifting slightly as she considered her words. There were very few people she voluntarily sought advice from. Lou happened to be one of them. "…Lou?"

"Yes?"

"Can I talk to you about something?"

Lou immediately set the flowers aside, her expression attentive. "Of course." She gestured toward a nearby table, her movements inviting and steady. "Have a seat."

Lou noticed the seriousness in Nami's eyes as she settled into the chair. Whatever this conversation was about, she knew it mattered. And she was ready to listen.

A few days later, the farmhouse had settled into something resembling a routine. The rhythm was imperfect and often unpredictable, but it was a rhythm nonetheless—one shaped by bottles, naps, and the soft hum of Spring drifting through Forgotten Valley. Sunny gently lifted Cyrus onto her shoulder after his bottle, supporting him with practiced care. The little boy gave one tiny burp before letting out a contented sigh, his small body relaxing completely against her.

"There we go," Sunny murmured proudly, her smile warm and triumphant. "See? We're getting better at this."

She kissed the top of his head before carefully lowering him into the bassinet. Her movements were slow and deliberate, the kind of tenderness that came from learning through trial and error. Wrapping the blanket snugly around him, she watched as his eyelids gradually grew heavy. Within moments, he was asleep, his breathing soft and steady beneath the pale blue fabric.

Sunny quietly stretched her back, several joints popping in protest. "Ohhhh, I never knew babies could be so tiny and so heavy." Her voice carried a blend of exhaustion and amusement, the kind only new parents understood.

With the house finally quiet again, Sunny looked around the little ranch house. It suddenly seemed much smaller than she remembered. When she'd first moved in, it had been perfect—one room with a cozy kitchen, a comfortable living area, all sharing the same open space. Just enough room for one young rancher beginning her new life. The simplicity had felt comforting then, a fresh start wrapped in warm wooden walls.

Now, her eyes drifted toward Cyrus's bassinet. It occupied an entire corner of the room, its presence reshaping the space around it. There were bottles drying beside the sink. Diapers stacked against the wall. Blankets folded over chairs. Wooden toys scattered near the table. The house already felt… fuller. Not cluttered, but undeniably changed, as though the walls themselves were adjusting to accommodate a new heartbeat.

She smiled softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's okay while you're little."

Her gaze lingered on the sleeping baby. "But when you start walking, you're going to need more room than this."

Sunny wandered over to the table where the weekly newspaper rested, its pages slightly curled from the humidity. She flipped it open with hopeful fingers, scanning the advertisements with quiet determination. Maybe there would be listings for used baby furniture. A secondhand crib. Maybe a changing table. Anything to help stretch their modest budget. She traced a finger down the page, searching for possibilities, her mind already calculating what she could afford and what she would have to wait for.

She had just unfolded the first page when— Knock knock knock.

Sunny looked toward the front door, startled by the sudden interruption. "…Huh?" She carefully set the newspaper down, smoothing the creases with her palm before calling out, "Coming!"

She opened the door and froze. The ranch had transformed. Colorful ribbons fluttered between the fence posts, catching the Spring breeze in bright, cheerful waves. Fresh flowers decorated the porch railings, their petals glowing beneath the morning sun. Beneath the old tree stood a long wooden table already covered with homemade food, cakes, and brightly wrapped presents tied with cheerful bows. The entire yard looked as though a festival had bloomed overnight.

All the local villagers stood chatting happily together. Lou smiled from the front of the gathering, smoothing the apron over her dress as though she had been waiting for this exact moment.

Sunny blinked, her voice barely forming the name. "…Lou?"

Lou beamed, her eyes sparkling. "There she is!"

Sunny looked from one decoration to another, her confusion growing with every glance. "…What's… going on?"

Lou clasped her hands together, positively glowing with excitement. "My dear, it's your surprise baby shower!"

Sunny pointed at herself, stunned. "My… baby shower?"

Before Lou could answer, Chris stepped forward carrying an enormous gift wrapped in bright red paper. "We've all been waiting for you!"

Behind her stood Romana with Lumina at her side, both carrying beautifully wrapped packages. Gavin rolled a handcart stacked with boxes toward the porch while Charlie and Cole struggled with something large hidden beneath a blanket. Even Vesta, Cecilia, Matthew, Daryl, Gustafa, Carter, Flora, and Gordy had gathered together, each holding gifts of their own. The entire valley had come together, filling the ranch with color, warmth, and laughter.

Sunny looked around in complete disbelief. "You… you all did this?"

Lou nodded, her smile softening. "Every new parent deserves a little help."

Sunny felt tears beginning to gather in the corners of her eyes. "But… I didn't tell anyone about Cyrus."

Lou smiled knowingly. "No, you didn't. But someone had a great idea and gathered everyone together to set this up."

She glanced toward the back of the crowd for just the briefest moment. Sunny instinctively followed her gaze. Standing a little apart from everyone else was Nami. Camera resting in her hands. She adjusted the focus ring as though she had merely wandered over to photograph the festivities, her posture casual and her expression unreadable.

Click- The shutter quietly captured Sunny's astonished expression. When Sunny smiled gratefully toward her…

Nami simply looked away. "It was just good lighting," she muttered, pretending to examine the photo on the little screen on the camera she'd just taken. As if she had absolutely nothing to do with any of this. As if she hadn't spent days quietly organizing, planning, and nudging the valley into motion.

But Sunny knew. And Nami—despite her best efforts—could not hide the faint warmth rising in her cheeks.

Before Sunny had a chance to process what was happening, Molly practically bounced through the crowd, her golden hair swaying behind her as she hurried toward the porch. Her excitement radiated so brightly it seemed to ripple through the decorations themselves, making her hsir flutter as though responding to her energy.

"Sunny!" she cried, clasping her hands together. "Where is he?"

Sunny blinked, still overwhelmed. "Where's who?"

"Cyrus!" Molly practically vibrated with excitement, her entire body leaning forward as though she might sprint into the house herself. "I have been waiting all morning to meet the little sweetheart! How could you keep a baby a secret from me?"

Sunny laughed, unable to help herself. "I've only had him for a couple of days."

"I know!" Molly said dramatically, throwing her arms up. "That's a couple of days too long!"

The crowd chuckled as Sunny shook her head, warmth spreading through her chest. "All right, all right."

She disappeared back inside the house. A few moments later she returned, gently cradling a sleepy Cyrus in her arms. The little boy blinked groggily as the sunlight met his eyes, his lashes fluttering like tiny wings. He stretched both arms overhead in a slow, drowsy motion before noticing the gathering of smiling faces waiting for him.

His sleepy expression transformed instantly into delighted curiosity. He kicked his little feet excitedly, letting out a cheerful squeal that melted nearly every heart in the yard.

"There he is!" Molly gasped. Without wasting another second, she hurried forward. "May I?"

Sunny smiled, her voice soft. "Of course."

Carefully, she transferred Cyrus into Molly's waiting arms. The cheerful waitress looked absolutely enchanted, her entire demeanor shifting into gentle awe.

Her voice softened immediately. "Hello there, handsome."

Cyrus stared up at her for exactly one second before breaking into another happy giggle. That was all the invitation Molly needed.

"Oh, you are so cute!" She gently rubbed her cheek against his chubby little one. "I just want to gobble you up!"

Cyrus squealed even louder, grabbing a fistful of Molly's hair with surprising determination.

"Oh!" Molly laughed, her eyes sparkling. "So that's how we're playing?"

She carefully untangled the tiny fingers while nuzzling him again. "You've got quite the grip already!"

Sunny couldn't stop smiling. Watching someone else hold Cyrus so naturally made something warm bloom inside her chest, a quiet reassurance she hadn't known she needed. Nearby, Romana covered her mouth with a graceful smile. "My, my… he certainly has everyone wrapped around his little finger already."

Lumina giggled, her voice light. "I don't think Molly's going to give him back."

"I heard that!" Molly called without taking her eyes off Cyrus. "And you're absolutely right!"

The yard erupted into warm laughter. The cheerful sound carried across the ranch, weaving through the decorations and drifting into the Spring air. One by one, the villagers stepped forward, each eager to meet the valley's newest resident. And Cyrus—wide‑eyed, curious, and delighted—welcomed every single one of them.

Molly was still happily entertaining Cyrus, making exaggerated faces that earned delighted squeals from the little boy. She bounced him gently, her laughter blending with his in a way that made the entire yard feel brighter. Romana and Lumina watched with amused smiles, their expressions soft and warm. Lou fussed over the refreshments nearby, insisting everyone save room for dessert as she rearranged plates with meticulous care.

Then another familiar voice drifted through the gathering. "Well now…"

Rock strolled up the ranch path with his usual easy swagger, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his beach shirt. A colorful floral overshirt hung open over a plain T‑shirt, giving him the carefree appearance of someone perpetually on vacation. His steps were unhurried, his grin relaxed, as though he had simply wandered into a party meant entirely for him.

He looked toward Molly's arms. "So that's the little guy."

His grin softened ever so slightly. "He's a pretty cute kid."

Sunny smiled politely. "Thanks."

Rock nodded thoughtfully, his expression shifting into something far more dramatic. "You know, this little boy needs a father."

Sunny blinked. "…Uh…"

Rock proudly placed both hands on his hips. "Lucky for you, I've decided to volunteer. I figure I'll be a stay‑at‑home dad. You can work the ranch, while I stay home and don't have to work."

A hand reached out and pinched Rock firmly by the cheek. He stumbled sideways as Nami calmly dragged him several feet away from Sunny, still holding his cheek between two fingers. "What are you doing here?" she asked flatly, her tone devoid of patience.

Rock winced. "Owowowowow! Nami!"

She gave his cheek another tiny tug. "I specifically told you that you weren't invited."

"I am a member of this community too!" Rock protested, trying unsuccessfully to free himself. "I have every right to be here!"

"Aha!" Sunny suddenly pointed dramatically toward Nami. "So you did plan this baby shower!"

Nami froze. "…That…" For perhaps the first time, the normally composed photographer looked genuinely flustered. She immediately released Rock's cheek and looked away, adjusting her posture as though she could hide inside her own shadow. "It's not what you think."

Sunny folded her arms, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh?"

Nami adjusted the strap of her camera with suspicious intensity, her eyes fixed anywhere but on Sunny. "I merely thought a baby shower would provide an excellent setting for taking photographs. That was all."

Sunny slowly smiled, her voice warm and knowing. "Liar."

Before Nami could protest further, Sunny stepped forward and wrapped her in a quick, unexpected hug. The embrace was gentle but sincere, filled with gratitude that needed no explanation. "Thank you." The words were simple. Completely sincere.

Nami stiffened in surprise, her breath catching for just a moment. "…You're welcome," she murmured, almost too quietly to hear. And though she tried to hide it, the faintest warmth touched her cheeks—an unspoken truth settling quietly between them.

Around them, several villagers exchanged knowing smiles, the kind that carried warmth and mischief in equal measure. Rock rubbed his sore cheek dramatically, leaning back as though recovering from a grievous injury. "I'd just like everyone to know that I was assaulted for trying to become an excellent father."

Takakura folded his arms, unimpressed. "You lost everyone at 'don't have to work.'"

The yard erupted into laughter once more, the sound rolling through the ranch like a burst of sunlight. Even Nami couldn't quite suppress the tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, her expression softening despite her best efforts to remain composed.

The celebration continued well into the afternoon. The people of Forgotten Valley laughed over slices of cake and homemade pies, their voices weaving together in warm, familiar harmony. Molly had finally relinquished custody of Cyrus—though only after receiving several promises that she could hold him again later—and Lou continued insisting everyone accept second and third helpings, her apron fluttering as she moved between guests.

Sunny hadn't stopped smiling all day. Every few minutes someone would hand her another gift, each one offered with genuine affection. Tiny knitted blankets. Picture books. Handmade toys. Baby clothes carefully sewn by Cecilia. Even Daryl, after mumbling something incomprehensible about "human developmental observations," awkwardly presented a surprisingly well‑crafted wooden rattle before immediately pretending he hadn't. The gesture was so earnest that Sunny's heart swelled with gratitude. She had never imagined so many people cared.

Just then, the distant sound of wagon wheels rolled up the ranch road. Heads turned as a sturdy wagon came to a stop near the front gate. A broad‑shouldered man with a thick beard climbed down, carrying a rolled set of blueprints beneath one arm. His boots thudded against the ground as he surveyed the gathering, consulting a clipboard with practiced efficiency.

"So, where do I start?" he asked, his voice deep and matter‑of‑fact.

Sunny blinked. "…Gotts?" She hurried over, her confusion plain. "What are you doing here?"

The master carpenter stretched his arms before looking down at the paperwork in his hands. "I've got an order to renovate this house. Add two bedrooms, renovate the kitchen, update the bathroom…" He lowered the clipboard, nodding once. "Should keep me busy for a little while."

Sunny stared at him, stunned. "You're going to renovate my house?"

"That's what the paperwork says."

Sunny turned immediately toward Nami. "Did you call Gotts?"

Nami looked genuinely confused. "Not me."

Sunny blinked. "Then who?"

"I did." The gentle voice belonged to Romana. The elderly woman slowly approached, leaning comfortably on her elegant cane while Lumina walked faithfully beside her. Her presence carried a quiet authority, the kind that made the crowd instinctively part to let her through.

Romana smiled warmly at Sunny. "That little boy deserves a proper home." She looked toward Cyrus, who was now peacefully sleeping once again in Molly's arms again. "Children grow much faster than we realize. And this home will need to grow with him."

Sunny stood speechless, her breath catching as emotion rose in her chest. Romana chuckled softly, her eyes kind. "Please allow an old woman the privilege of contributing to her community." The words were spoken so naturally that they carried no trace of charity. Only generosity. Only love.

Sunny felt her eyes begin to water. "But… that's… that's far too much…"

Romana simply shook her head. "My dear. It is precisely enough. This community is a family. And when we found out a new baby arrived in the valley, the whole village came together to contribute to his new life with us."

Behind her, Gotts rolled open the blueprints across the hood of his wagon, the paper unfurling in a wide arc. "I was thinking, we extend this side of the house." He traced another section with his finger. "A master bedroom, a nursery, a larger kitchen."

He looked toward Takakura. "And while we're at it, I can reinforce the foundation for another generation or two."

Takakura laughed, his voice warm and approving. "Now you're speaking my language."

Sunny looked around at everyone gathered before her. Lou, Molly, Takakura, Nami, Romana, Lumina—and everyone else who had filled the ranch with color and warmth. Even Rock, who was somehow still hanging around despite earlier events, stood among them with a proud grin. Every single person smiled back at her. Nobody questioned whether Cyrus belonged. Nobody wondered if Sunny was ready. Nobody asked whether this was the right decision.

They had already answered those questions with gifts. With food. With their time. With a home that was about to become large enough for a growing family. The truth of it settled into Sunny's chest like sunlight, warm and steady.

She wiped a tear from her cheek and laughed softly. "I don't even know what to say."

Lou smiled, her voice gentle. "You don't have to."

Molly nodded enthusiastically. "Just let us spoil the little guy!"

The crowd erupted into cheerful agreement. Even Gotts chuckled as he rolled up his plans, tucking the blueprints beneath one arm. "Looks like I've got a busy Spring ahead of me."

From the back of the gathering came the soft click of a camera shutter. Nami lowered her camera and smiled to herself. The photograph captured Sunny standing in the center of the crowd, surrounded by friends who had quietly decided that Cyrus wasn't just Sunny's son anymore. He was Forgotten Valley's son. And if a home could be built with lumber, nails, and careful craftsmanship, a family, Nami realized, could be built in much the same way—one thoughtful act at a time.

The celebration gradually gave way to the quiet rhythm of evening. One by one, the villagers gathered their empty dishes, exchanged hugs and farewells, and made their way back toward the village as the setting sun painted Forgotten Valley in shades of amber and gold. Laughter slowly faded into the distance, replaced by the gentle chirping of evening crickets and the soft rustling of the Spring breeze through the trees.

Even after the party had ended, one person remained hard at work. Gotts had already rolled up his sleeves and was unloading stacks of lumber from his wagon, humming to himself as heavy beams landed neatly beside the farmhouse. Every few moments he would glance at the blueprints, mentally assembling the expanded home that would soon stand in place of the modest ranch house.

Sunny watched him with amazement. "He really doesn't waste any time."

Takakura chuckled, leaning comfortably against the fence. "That's Gotts for you. He'll probably have the foundation started before breakfast tomorrow."

Sunny stretched both arms over her head until her back gave a satisfying pop. "What a day."

She smiled over at Cyrus, who was happily nestled in Nami's arms, completely fascinated by one of the buttons on her jacket. His tiny fingers pressed against the metal with intense concentration, as though he had discovered a new universe. Sunny tilted her head thoughtfully.

"Looks like I'll have to stay at the inn while Gotts renovates the house." She glanced toward the farmhouse, already imagining the walls coming down. "There won't exactly be a safe place for Cyrus while construction's going on."

Nami absentmindedly adjusted the blanket around the little boy. "Probably not."

Sunny smiled as an idea flickered through her mind. "Maybe we're going to be neighbors."

Nami hesitated. She scratched her cheek awkwardly, carefully choosing her words. "…Maybe… we could… share my room."

Sunny blinked, startled by the suggestion. Nami continued before she could lose her nerve. "We can watch Cyrus together."

There was a brief silence—soft, warm, full of possibility. Then Sunny's face lit up like sunrise. Before Nami knew what was happening, Sunny had thrown an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close with bright, unrestrained joy. "That's a great idea! We can have a sleepover every night until Gotts finishes the renovations!"

She pumped both fists triumphantly into the air. "Sleepover with my favorite person!"

Several villagers who hadn't quite reached the road yet turned around, smiling at Sunny's infectious enthusiasm. Nami felt her cheeks warm, "You're unbelievable."

Sunny grinned, "You know it!"

Nami sighed. Yet despite herself, she couldn't help laughing. It was a soft, genuine chuckle.

Somehow, even after becoming a mother, Sunny was still Sunny. Still a little too loud. Still super optimistic. Still capable of making even temporary living arrangements sound like the greatest adventure ever conceived. And somehow, that made Nami's worries feel just a little smaller.

That evening, after helping move a few of the ranch's essentials into the inn, the three of them settled into Nami's room. It was a modest space, quiet and familiar, shaped by the simplicity Nami preferred. A single bed stood against one wall beneath the window, while an extra futon Lou had kindly provided rested neatly on the floor. Cyrus's bassinet sat between them, close enough that either woman could reach him during the night. The arrangement felt temporary, improvised, yet strangely comforting—like a small shelter carved out of the world just for them.

The room was quiet. Moonlight streamed gently through the curtains, casting pale silver patterns across the wooden floor. Sunny had fallen asleep almost instantly, exhaustion pulling her under with barely a fight. One arm dangled lazily off the side of the futon while soft, uneven breaths escaped her every few seconds. Motherhood, Nami realized, was exhausting in ways she had never fully understood until now. Cyrus slept soundly in his little bassinet between them, wrapped snugly in his blanket, his tiny chest rising and falling with steady rhythm.

For a while, everything was peaceful. Then- Thump.

Nami's eyes slowly opened. She blinked into the darkness, letting her vision adjust to the faint glow of moonlight. Another tiny kick followed, accompanied by a soft rustle. Cyrus had somehow managed to wriggle out of his blanket and into her bed, one little foot triumphantly sticking into the cool night air as though he had conquered new territory.

"Of course." Her voice was barely a whisper.

She quietly sat up. Careful not to wake him, she leaned over and gently tucked the blanket back around the sleepy little boy. His eyelids fluttered, but he didn't stir.

"There you go."

Cyrus gave a tiny contented sigh as he snuggled against her. His little hand instinctively wrapped around one of Nami's fingers for just a second before relaxing again, the gesture soft and trusting. Nami smiled faintly, her expression touched with a warmth she didn't bother trying to hide.

"Goodnight."

She carefully freed her finger and settled back onto her pillow. Across the room, Sunny slept peacefully, completely unaware that someone else had just taken care of her son in the middle of the night. Within moments, Nami's eyes drifted closed once more, her breath falling into the same quiet rhythm as the two beside her.

Outside, the sounds of Gotts's tools had long since fallen silent. Inside the little inn room, beneath the soft glow of the moon, three peaceful breaths rose and fell together. Without either woman fully realizing it, their little family had already begun to find its rhythm.