Chapter 54: The Flowerbud Incident (Part 1)

A couple of days later, Popuri returned to the library with renewed determination, her heart beating a little faster with every step she took toward the front doors. The village square was quiet that morning, the soft hum of daily life drifting through the air—farm carts creaking past, distant voices calling across the marketplace, the faint ring of a blacksmith's hammer echoing somewhere down the street.

But Popuri barely noticed any of it. Her mind was elsewhere. The pond. The statue. The dream she had carried with her for days. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to line up, and for the first time since she and Pete had arrived in Flowerbud Village, she felt certain that they were getting close.

Close to understanding what had changed. Close to understanding her father.

If she could just learn more about the past—about the Flowerbud Incident, about the sudden return of the Harvest Goddess—then maybe everything would finally start to make sense.

She pushed open the library door. The familiar chime of the bell greeted her as she stepped inside, and at once the quiet calm of the building wrapped around her like a blanket. The scent of old parchment and polished wood filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of dried flowers someone had placed near the windowsill.

Sunlight streamed through the tall windows along the far wall, painting long golden stripes across the floor and the neatly arranged rows of bookshelves. Dust motes drifted lazily in the beams of light, giving the whole room an almost dreamlike stillness.

Behind the front desk, Maria sat with her head slightly bowed, quietly flipping through a thick catalog. Her blue hair caught the sunlight as she turned a page, her calm expression unchanged from the last time Popuri had visited. The soft rustle of paper was the only sound in the room.

Popuri approached slowly, her excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. Maria looked up as she heard the footsteps and immediately offered her usual warm smile.

"Good morning, Popuri," she said gently, closing the catalog and setting it aside. "Back again so soon?"

Popuri nodded quickly, her pink hair swaying with the movement. "Yeah," she admitted, a little breathless. "I think I'm getting closer to something."

Maria raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Oh?"

Popuri rested her hands lightly on the desk, leaning forward slightly. "I've been reading about the Harvest Goddess," she explained. "About the Flowerbud Incident—the statue that was discovered here."

Maria's expression shifted almost imperceptibly. Not surprise, but recognition. "Ah," the librarian said quietly. "That story."

Popuri straightened. "You know about it?"

Maria gave a small nod, folding her hands neatly on the desk.

"Many people in Flowerbud do," Maria replied gently. "It's part of our village's history, after all. The ones who don't are usually the people who came here from Leaf Valley."

Popuri absorbed that quietly. The thought lingered in her mind—the divide between the older residents and those who had arrived after Leaf Valley disappeared.

"Is there any book about the event?" Popuri asked.

Maria considered the question for a moment. "That's not a topic people usually ask about," she admitted. "But there is one book with the full details of the event. Let's see what we can find."

She rose from her chair and motioned for Popuri to follow. Together they walked into the west wing of the library, where the older historical records were kept. The atmosphere there felt different from the main reading room—quieter, heavier somehow, as though the past itself lingered among the shelves.

Maria moved slowly along the rows of books, her fingers trailing along the spines as she scanned each title with practiced familiarity. Popuri watched anxiously, her gaze darting from one shelf to another as the minutes stretched on.

But Maria's pace gradually slowed, then she stopped "That's strange," she murmured under her breath.

Popuri tilted her head. "What is?"

Maria turned toward her, a flicker of concern crossing her usually composed expression. "The book you're looking for… it's missing."

Popuri's stomach dropped. "Missing?"

"Well, this is a library," Maria said quickly. "So it was most likely checked out."

"Do you know who took it?" Popuri asked, leaning forward slightly.

Maria gave a small nod. "If it's urgent, I can check."

She turned and walked briskly back to the front desk, pulling open a drawer filled with neatly organized paperwork. Pages rustled as she flipped through the checkout records, her finger tracing carefully down a column of names and dates.

Popuri waited nervously beside the desk, her heart pounding as Maria scanned the list. Then Maria stopped, "Here it is," she said.

Popuri leaned closer.

"The book was checked out recently," Maria continued, tapping the page. "By someone named Gina."

Popuri repeated the name quietly. "Gina…" She looked up again. "Do you know who she is?"

Maria nodded. "Yes. She's the village nurse." Maria closed the ledger and looked back at Popuri. "If she has the book, you should be able to find it with her."

Popuri straightened immediately, a spark of determination lighting her eyes. "Then that's who I'm talking to next."

Maria gave her an encouraging smile. "I hope she can help. Let me know if you need anything else."

Popuri nodded, a renewed sense of urgency rising in her chest. She thanked Maria quickly before turning and hurrying toward the door. The bell chimed behind her as she stepped back into the sunlight, her thoughts already racing ahead of her feet.

The missing book might be the key to everything. And she wasn't about to let that lead slip through her fingers.

She moved briskly through the village streets, weaving past small groups of villagers going about their afternoon routines. A farmer pushed a cart full of fresh produce toward the market square, while a pair of children chased each other between the buildings, their laughter echoing faintly across the warm spring air.

But Popuri barely noticed any of it, her mind was fixed on one thing: Gina.

If the nurse had checked out the book, then she must have been researching the same topic—perhaps even the Flowerbud Incident itself. That meant Gina might already know something important.

Popuri slowed slightly as she approached the eastern part of the village, thinking it through. In Mineral Town, Elli had practically lived at the clinic. Between tending patients, organizing supplies, and helping Doctor Trent, she had rarely left the building unless it was absolutely necessary. If Gina worked the same way, then she was probably easy to find. Which meant Popuri had likely just overlooked her.

After all, she had only been in Flowerbud Village for a brief amount of time. While she had met many of the villagers already—especially through Nina and Lyla—there were still corners of the community she hadn't explored. The clinic was one of them.

As the white building came into view down the road, a clear sign that is easily recognizable as a clinic. Popuri felt a small sense of relief. The structure was easy to find—clean, simple, and welcoming, much like the clinic back in Mineral Town.

But something else caught her attention before she reached the door. Right beside the clinic stood another building. Popuri slowed her pace, her curiosity pulling her gaze toward it.

The structure was larger than most of the houses in Flowerbud Village, with a quaint, almost old-fashioned design. Its wooden exterior had been carefully maintained, the windows polished and the roof freshly repaired.

Yet something about it felt… different.

Unlike the other buildings in the village, which were connected by well-worn stone paths and tidy walkways, this one sat at the end of a narrow dirt road. The path leading to its entrance looked rarely traveled, the soil barely disturbed by footprints or wagon tracks. Almost as if no one ever visits. And yet, the building itself was immaculate.

Not abandoned, not neglected, just… quiet.

Popuri stepped closer, studying it. A small wooden sign hung above the door where a shop sign would normally be. Instead of a name or symbol she recognized, it bore a simple carving of a four-leaf clover.

She tilted her head slightly. "That's strange…" There was no indication of what kind of place it was. No menu, no storefront display, no open sign inviting customers inside. Just the clover.

A faint breeze rustled the leaves of a nearby tree, making the sign creak gently as it swayed back and forth. Popuri stared at it for a moment longer, feeling a strange tug of curiosity. But she shook her head and forced herself to refocus. "Later," she told herself.

Right now, she had something more important to do. Turning away from the strange building, Popuri climbed the short wooden steps leading to the clinic and pushed open the door. A small brass bell chimed softly as she stepped inside.

The scent of herbs and antiseptic filled the air immediately, mingling with the faint aroma of dried medicinal plants hanging from a rack near the window. The clinic was quiet, almost peaceful, and the soft hum of medical equipment created a gentle background rhythm.

For a moment, Popuri simply stood there, taking it in. The atmosphere felt strangely familiar. It reminded her of the countless afternoons she had spent gathering medicine for her mother back home in Mineral Town. The same careful organization, the same tidy shelves lined with bottles and neatly labeled jars—it was comforting in a way she hadn't expected.

Behind the counter stood a man in a crisp white coat, carefully organizing a stack of paperwork on his desk. Popuri blinked. "He looks just like Doctor Trent from Mineral Town!" The resemblance was uncanny—the same black hair, his serious posture, the same thoughtful expression, even the same meticulous way of arranging his desk.

The man looked up when he noticed her standing there. He stood up and offered a polite, welcoming smile. "Good afternoon," he said warmly. "You must be Popuri. I've heard about you from some of the villagers."

Popuri chuckled lightly and stepped closer to the counter. "That's me," she said. "Nice to meet you! You must be the doctor here."

The man nodded. "My name is Doctor Alex," he replied. "What brings you in today? I hope you're not feeling unwell."

Popuri shook her head quickly. "Oh, no, nothing like that. I'm actually looking for a nurse named Gina." She leaned casually against the counter as she continued. "I heard she checked out a book from the library, and I wanted to talk to her about it."

For a brief moment, Alex's expression shifted—just slightly. "Gina?" he repeated thoughtfully. "Ah… yes. I do know her."

Popuri straightened slightly, hopeful. "She's here then?"

Alex shook his head gently. "No. Gina may be a nurse, but she doesn't work here at the clinic."

Popuri blinked in confusion. "She doesn't?"

"No," Alex said calmly. "She works next door."

Popuri felt a small chill creep up her spine. "…Next door?"

Alex nodded. "At the sanitarium."

The word made Popuri stiffen instantly. "A… sanitarium?"

Her mind immediately flashed back to the strange building she had noticed earlier—the one with the quiet dirt road and the clover sign. Her eyes slowly drifted toward the clinic window that faced the neighboring property.

"Wait…" she said slowly. "Why does Flowerbud Village have a sanitarium?"

Alex nodded again, his tone matter-of-fact. "It's been here for a short while now," he explained. "It's used for people who require long-term care—those with chronic illnesses, or conditions that need constant attention." He folded his arms thoughtfully.

"Right now, though, we only have one patient staying there."

Popuri's curiosity sharpened. "Just one?"

Alex nodded. "Gina is fairly new to the village, she came with the patient about five or six years ago.," he continued. "She was hired to help care for the patient."

Popuri glanced toward the window again, staring at the quiet building beside the clinic. The dirt road. The clover sign. The eerie feeling that no one ever visited it. Her heart began to beat a little faster.

"…Is the patient very sick?" she asked carefully.

Alex hesitated for just a moment before answering. "Not exactly, but she does need constant attention. The sanitarium was built next to the clinic in case there was an emergency and I was needed for urgent treatment."

Popuri felt a strange unease settle in her chest "What kind of illness?"

Alex looked at her thoughtfully. "Something unusual," he said. And somehow… that answer made Popuri even more certain that whatever secrets Flowerbud Village was hiding— waiting inside that quiet building next door.

Popuri swallowed hard. She had never considered the idea that the village might have a place like that. The thought sent an uneasy shiver down her spine.

"Why would someone like Gina be interested in the Flowerbud Incident?" Popuri asked herself. Its like every time she steps closer to the truth, the stranger things get.

Snapping herself out of her thoughts, Popuri straightened quickly. "Thank you, Doctor Alex," she said, offering him a polite smile.

Alex returned the gesture with a small nod, his calm demeanor unchanged. "Of course. And if you ever need any medical attention, please feel free to visit again."

"I will," Popuri replied.

With that, she turned and stepped back outside into the afternoon sunlight. The clinic door closed behind her with a soft click, and the warm breeze carried the faint scent of pine and wildflowers through the air.

But Popuri's attention was no longer on the village street. Her eyes drifted immediately toward the building next door. The sanitarium.

Now that she knew what it was, the place seemed… different. Heavier somehow. The quiet dirt path leading up to it no longer felt merely unused—it felt secluded, deliberate. As if the building had been placed there intentionally, kept apart from the rest of the village.

The four-leaf clover sign creaked gently as the wind nudged it. Popuri swallowed, gathering her courage. "Just talk to Gina", she reminded herself. "That's all."

Stepping onto the narrow dirt path, she approached the door and knocked firmly against the wooden frame. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the door creaked open.

Standing in the doorway was a young woman dressed in a crisp blue nurse's uniform with a neatly pressed white apron. A stethoscope hung loosely around her neck, and large round glasses rested on the bridge of her nose, making her warm brown eyes shimmer slightly in the sunlight. Her long sky-blue hair was braided into twin pigtails that curled gently at the ends, framing her delicate face.

She blinked once in mild surprise at seeing a visitor. "Oh," she said softly. "Hello."

Her voice carried a gentle, careful tone, the kind someone might use when speaking near a resting patient. Popuri immediately straightened, trying not to look too nervous.

"Hi," she said, offering a friendly smile. "Are you Gina?"

The nurse adjusted her glasses slightly. "Yes, that's me."

Popuri exhaled in relief. "Great! I was hoping to find you." She gestured toward the village behind her. "I just came from the library. Maria said you checked out a history book—the one about the Flowerbud Incident. I was wondering if I could borrow it."

Gina's expression softened with understanding, though a trace of apology flickered in her eyes. She adjusted her glasses slightly before answering.

"Oh… I'm sorry," she said gently. "I don't actually have the book with me right now. Miss Dia is currently reading it."

Popuri blinked. "Dia?"

Gina nodded. "Yes. She's my patient… and my best friend." A quiet fondness warmed her voice as she said the words. Then she stepped aside and gestured toward the open doorway behind her. "Would you like to come in? Dia would probably love the company."

Popuri hesitated for only a moment. She glanced past Gina into the sanitarium's interior. The lighting inside was dimmer than outside, softened by drawn curtains that filtered the afternoon sun into pale golden strips. The quiet inside felt deeper than the silence of the forest—a peaceful stillness that carried a faint, solemn weight.

Curiosity tugged at her. "Sure," Popuri said at last.

She stepped across the threshold, and Gina gently closed the door behind her. Inside, the building felt less mysterious than it had from the outside, though no less quiet. It resembled a small hospital more than anything else. Shelves lined the walls, neatly arranged with bottles of medicine labeled in careful handwriting. Clean instruments rested on polished countertops, and soft white curtains separated small patient areas.

The faint scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, mixed with the subtle aroma of dried herbs. Everything was immaculate. And yet… something about the atmosphere carried an underlying sadness.

Popuri slowly took it all in, her footsteps echoing softly against the tile floor. Gina walked ahead of her and gestured toward a staircase at the far end of the room. The wooden steps creaked gently under the quiet weight of the building.

"Miss Dia is upstairs," Gina explained with a warm smile. "Please, go ahead and say hello."

Popuri nodded and moved toward the stairs. But just as she reached the first step, a thought suddenly crossed her mind. She paused and turned back toward Gina.

"Wait," she said.

Gina looked up from where she had begun organizing a small tray of medicine bottles. "Yes?"

Popuri tilted her head slightly. "Why is she reading the book about the Flowerbud Incident?"

Gina paused for a moment, then she gave a small shrug before answering. "No particular reason," she said lightly. "We both came here from Leaf Valley, after all."

She placed the bottles carefully onto the shelf. "Miss Dia, however, can't travel very far from the sanitarium," she continued. "So she spends most of her days reading. What she reads is not important, she just enjoys the activity."

Popuri nodded, her curiosity piqued even further. Without pressing the matter, she turned and made her way up the stairs, the wooden steps creaking softly beneath her feet.

Once Popuri reached the top of the stairs, the atmosphere changed entirely. The quiet, clinical feeling of the lower floor disappeared the moment she stepped into the hallway. Instead of antiseptic scents and medical equipment, the upper level felt warm and lived-in—almost like stepping into someone's private home.

A soft rug stretched across the wooden floor, muting her footsteps as she walked forward. The faint glow of a lantern flickered against the walls, casting gentle shadows that danced across shelves filled with books. A neatly made bed rested in the corner of the room, its white linens tucked with careful precision, while a small round table nearby held an elegant porcelain tea set arranged as if it had just been used.

Books were everywhere. They filled tall shelves along the walls, stacked in tidy rows and small leaning piles, their pages worn from constant reading. The room carried the peaceful air of someone who spent much of their life surrounded by stories and quiet thought.

Seated near the window was a young woman in a rocking chair. She held an open book in her hands, its pages catching the warm light spilling through the glass. Shoulder length sleek black hair brushed her shoulders like a dark curtain, contrasting beautifully with the elegant green dress she wore. The circlet on her head made her look cute and refined at the same time.

Popuri blinked in surprise. She had expected someone older—perhaps someone frail or elderly, given the way Gina had spoken about her. But the girl looked about her own age. Late teens, maybe early twenties.

The rocking chair creaked softly as the young woman looked up from her book. Her green eyes studied Popuri calmly, curious but not startled by the unexpected visitor.

"Hello," she said in a soft, refined voice. "Who might you be?"

Popuri hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. "…Dia?" she asked.

The girl gave a small nod. "I don't believe we've met before," she said politely. "Are you a traveler?"

Popuri smiled awkwardly and took a seat in the chair across from her, folding her hands in her lap. "Not exactly," she replied. "I just moved here from Mineral Town. My name's Popuri."

A faint smile appeared on Dia's lips. "Mineral Town?" she repeated thoughtfully. "I've heard of it."

Popuri nodded, but the reason she had come lingered at the front of her mind. After a brief pause, she gently steered the conversation in that direction.

"I heard about what happened to Leaf Valley," she said. "Do you… miss it?"

For a moment, Dia didn't answer. Her expression remained calm, but her gaze slowly drifted toward the window beside her. Outside, the fading sunlight painted the sky with soft shades of gold and orange.

"Not really," she said at last. Her tone was even—almost detached.

"My father is a wealthy businessman," she continued quietly. "But he rarely had time for me. So he built a mansion in Leaf Valley… a place where I could stay and be cared for."

She turned a page in the book resting in her lap, though she no longer seemed to be reading it. "But when the village was demolished," she said, "I had to leave."

Her voice remained composed, yet beneath the calm words lingered something deeper—something lonely. Dia finally looked back at Popuri.

"For a brief time, I was able to return home, spend time with my father," she said. "But then I fell ill."

Her hands rested lightly on the book as she spoke. "My father arranged for me to come here instead. Since Gina was my maid from Leaf Valley who had resettled in Flowerbud Village, he built this sanitarium and placed me in her care as my nurse."

Popuri listened carefully, feeling a quiet pang of sympathy. There was something about the way Dia spoke—so calm, so redined, so accepting—that made it clear this wasn't a recent change in her life. It sounded like something she had already come to terms with.

As the afternoon light filtered through the window, the conversation gradually shifted away from heavy subjects. Soon the two young women found themselves talking more freely. Dia spoke fondly of Leaf Valley, describing the lush fields that stretched between towering mountains, the flower shop that filled the air with sweet fragrances, and the festivals that once brought the entire village together beneath glowing lanterns.

Even though the place no longer existed, the warmth in her voice made it feel alive again. In return, Popuri shared stories about Mineral Town.

She told Dia about the lively Chicken Festival, the busy days at the town square, and the little chicken ranch where she had grown up. She described her determined older brother Rick and the colorful personalities of the villagers who had shaped her childhood.

Before long, their laughter filled the quiet room. Two strangers who had met only minutes ago were now exchanging stories like old friends. For a little while, the weight of missing villages and altered timelines faded into the background.

By the time the conversation slowed, the sun had begun to set beyond the forest. Warm amber light poured through the window, bathing the room in soft golden hues.

Popuri leaned back in her chair and smiled. What had begun as a simple search for a book had turned into something else entirely. The beginning of a new friendship.