"Raito! Raito, where are you?"

  A girl's voice, clear and laced with a hint of playful irritation, echoed through the small farmhouse. She moved from the living room, to the kitchen, and then to the backdoor, her long, midnight-blue hair swaying with each step.

  "Ahh, there you are," she said, a small smile on her face as she spotted a figure in the backyard, tending to a small but neatly organized farm. "Raito, I called you multiple times, you know."

  The young man with messy black hair, who was currently pulling a stubborn carrot from the soil, looked up with a confused expression. "Who?"

  "You, you idiot," the girl replied, her hands on her hips.

  He paused for a second, his brow furrowed, before his face lit up with a flash of realization. "Ahh, right! My bad. I'm Raito now."

  "Idiot," the girl sighed. "It's been two weeks, and you're still not used to it."

  "My bad, my bad," the young man who was Kun replied, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he stood up, dusting the dirt from his hands. "What was your name again? Yukari, was it?"

  The girl who was Lin, now named Yukari, marched over and pinched both of his cheeks, hard.

  Right next to the front door of their small, quiet farmhouse, a newly carved wooden sign hung, swaying gently in the tropical breeze. It read:

  Raito & Yukari Mei

  "Ow, ow, ow! Okay, I get it!" Raito yelped, his hands flying up to gently pry her fingers from his face. "Sorry, Yukari!"

  She finally let go, crossing her arms with a huff, though a small smile betrayed her amusement. "Can you stop being an idiot for once?"

  He stood there, rubbing his now-reddened cheeks, dressed in the simple, practical garb of a Hanyuun farmer. He wore a loose, wide-sleeved overcoat of sturdy brown cotton, tied at the waist with a thick, cream-colored sash. Beneath it, his wide-legged trousers were tucked neatly into simple, dirt-stained boots, allowing for easy movement. His once-scrawny frame had been replaced with lean muscle, built by days of tending their small backyard farm.

  Yukari, too, had adapted her attire to their new life. She wore a pair of round, silver-rimmed glasses to soften the intensity of her silver eyes. Her garb was a short, wide-sleeved robe of a soft lavender color, its fabric embroidered with faint, white flower patterns that shimmered in the sunlight. Below it, a pair of wide-legged, pleated trousers in a deep indigo provided a stark, elegant contrast, tied securely at her waist with a simple, crimson sash. It was a look that blended the grace of the noble she once was with the practicality of the farmer she had now become.

  "Two weeks, Raito," she scolded, puffing her cheeks out slightly. "You should get used to me calling you that by now."

  "I already told you I'm sorry," he whined. "Why were you looking for me, anyway?"

  "Right, I almost forgot." Her playful anger dissipated. "Today is mail day. Did you write your letter to Miss Yinzi already?"

  "Yup." His expression softened into a proud smile as he pointed toward the farmhouse. "It's on the dinner table. Don't worry, I won't forget. I promised her."

  Yukari smiled back, a genuine, warm expression. "Well, that's good then. I'll take it to the collection box at the market." She turned to walk back toward the house.

  "Wait, I'm coming with you," Raito said, quickly grabbing a burlap sack from the ground.

  "Oh?" Yukari turned back, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Are we finally….?"

  "Yes, we are. We are ready to sell these." He held up the sack, which was filled to the brim with freshly harvested carrots and potatoes. "That tip we got from Grandpa Sun Yoon was really useful."

  "Then we'd better treat him to something as a gratitude," Yukari said, her smile widening. "I almost gave up a week ago before he gave us that tip."

  ***

  "Okay, I'm done." Yukari slidid, letter into the slot and closed theclosing the small steel mailbox that stood in the center of Kumatou village's bustling market. She turned, expecting to see Raito beside her, but he was gone. "He's still at it," she sighed, shaking her head as she spotted him at a nearby vegetable stand, deep in negotiation.

  The stall was run by a rough-looking old man with a weathered face and arms as thick as tree branches.

  "Sir, twenty Cal per kilogram," Raito said, his voice full of a confidence she'd rarely heard from him. "It's a good deal. Freshly harvested this morning."

  "No, young man," the stall owner replied, his voice a low grumble. "That's a premium price, not something I'd take from a new seller. Ten Cal per kilogram. Final offer."

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  Raito's face broke into a wide, triumphant grin. "You know what, sir? Sold." He eagerly shook the old man's hand.

  A few minutes later, Raito was walking back to where Yukari was waiting, a small, heavy pouch of coins in his hand.

  "Four hundred and eighty... four hundred and ninety... five hundred," he counted under his breath. "Yup, that's all of it. A pleasure doing business with you, sir!" he called back to the stall owner.

  "Yukari!" he waved, his smile bright and proud. "I'm done. Let's get some food and a gift for Grandpa Sun Yoon and head home."

  "Finally," Yukari said, though she was smiling too. "I've been waiting. But... ten Cal per kilogram, isn't that too little?"

  "Not when the market price is six or seven," Raito replied, puffing out his chest proudly.

  "What? How did you manage that?" Yukari asked, bewildered.

  "Simple," he explained, tapping the side of his head. "Bob taught me. Raise the asking price as high as possible first. Then, when the buyer sets a price that's still well above the market value, take it. They think they've won, but so have you."

  "Hooo," Yukari teased, a smirk on her face. "Seems someone learned something new."

  "Well, I have to," he said, his smile fading as his tone shifted into a scolding one. "Remember, this is our first successful sell in two weeks, and I am not letting you blow our money on some useless, expensive furniture."

  "Okay, but to be fair, that two-hundred-Cal lawn chair was comfortable," Yukari tried to justify, her voice a little smaller now.

  "And expensive!" Raito continued, his voice rising slightly. "You can get a perfectly good lawn chair for a solid twenty or thirty Cal!"

  "But the person who sold it to me said it was branded!"

  "You got scammed!" Raito facepalmed, his voice full of exasperation.

  Before they knew it, a small crowd had gathered around them, watching their bickering session as if it were a street performance. Parting the crowd with a sigh was Isao, the acting elder, holding a large wooden paddle for some reason.

  "You two," he said, his voice a low growl. "I already told you not to make too much noise."

  "Sorry, Isao," both Raito and Yukari said in unison, not even questioning why he was carrying a paddle in the first place.

  As the sun began to set, the two of them left the bustling market behind, the sounds of the village slowly fading. They walked along a quiet, dirt path that wound its way through a thicket of towering bamboo groves, the air growing cooler and more serene with each step.

  "Raito," Yukari asked, breaking the comfortable silence. "Are you sure this is the right way? I don't see his farmhouse."

  "Trust me," he replied with a grin. "Grandpa Sun Yoon likes his privacy."

  Finally, they arrived at a small, hidden farmhouse, so seamlessly built into the surrounding bamboo that it was almost invisible. Raito knocked on the old wooden door. No answer. He knocked twice.

  "Grandpa Sun Yoon, are you here?"

  A sudden, gentle gust of wind swept by them, and the door creaked open of its own accord. A small, thin, elderly man with a long, white moustache and a weary but kind face emerged.

  "Ah, young Raito," Sun Yoon said, his voice a soft, quiet rustle like leaves in the wind. "What brings you here?"

  "I'm here to give you a gift," Raito explained, his face beaming with pride.

  "Here you go, Grandpa Sun Yoon," Yukari said, handing the old man a small, neatly wrapped bag of rice crackers. "We bought this with the money from our first harvest."

  "Oh, young Raito," Sun Yoon said, a rare, genuine smile spreading across his face as he took the bag. "You finally did it. You made those seeds bloom."

  "Yes!" Raito said, his voice full of excitement. "Your instructions on how many times I should water them and what fertilizers to use were a blessing. Thank you, Grandpa."

  Yukari just laughed. "He got so addicted to tending the fields after you gave him those directions."

  "Not addicted," Raito corrected, puffing out his chest. "Being a savant, I would say."

  "Is that so?" a small smirk appeared on Sun Yoon's face. He looked at Raito, a thoughtful, almost analytical glint in his old eyes. "Maybe you do have a potential."

  "What do you mean, Grandpa?" Raito asked, confused.

  "I said," the elderly man chuckled, the sound as soft as the wind, "maybe you have a potential to be a great farmer, young Raito."

  "Oh! Okay, if you say so," Raito said, proceeding to awkwardly laugh along with him.

  As night rolled around, the two had quietly settled back into their own farmhouse. The air smelled of warm stew and simmering herbs. Raito stood at the stove, carefully chopping the carrots and potatoes he had harvested that morning, while Yukari prepared the plates and spoons on their small wooden table. They moved in a comfortable, practiced sync, each knowing what the other needed without a word.

  "Hey, Yukari," Raito asked from the kitchen, tossing the chopped vegetables into a boiling pot. "Isn't that a bit cryptic?"

  "About what?" Yukari replied, leaning against the kitchen wall.

  "About that whole 'potential' talk earlier from Grandpa Sun Yoon," he clarified.

  "Maybe it's just like he said. You have a potential in farming," she said, a small, teasing smile on her face. "I'll even admit, the veggies came out looking better than I thought they would. Nothing more than that, right?"

  "You're right," Raito said, letting out an awkward laugh. "It should be just that."

  Yukari's smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of genuine curiosity. "Why? It isn't like you to be paranoid."

  "Yeah, you're right." He tasted the veggie stew, his expression brightening. "Here, the taste should be good enough." He handed a small tasting cup to Yukari.

  "It's pretty good," she said, her eyes widening in surprise. "You've improved." She gave him a genuine smile. "Much better than that bland porridge you made a year ago."

  "Well, reuniting with Miss Yinzi and having better ingredients certainly helps," he said, bringing the pot to the dinner table and scooping the contents into their plates.

  "So," Raito said, looking at her after a few moments of quiet eating.

  "So?" Yukari looked up from her stew.

  "Don't act confused," he said, a playful glint in his eye. "Are you going to find work here, or are you going to keep pestering me in the fields?"

  "Isn't helping you farm enough?" she asked, genuinely confused.

  Raito sighed dramatically. "Turning on the water hose at full blast and accidentally kicking my potatoes because you thought they were rocks doesn't really count as 'helping' in my books."

  "No, I'm pretty sure it is helping," she refuted, a stubborn pout on her face.

  "No, it's not," he said, shaking his head.

  "Yes, it is," she insisted, reaching across the table to pinch his cheek.

  "No, it's not," he said, immediately reaching up to pinch hers in return.

  Slam!

  The front door slammed open, and a raging voice stopped their childish bickering instantly. "Be quiet, you two!" It was Isao, holding a large bug net for some reason. "I can hear you two bickering from my house! Keep it down, understand?"

  "Yes, we're sorry, Isao," they both said in unison, immediately letting go of each other's cheeks.