In the next few days, Saya reluctantly joined my farming escapades, courtesy of my persistent grandma. The concept of waking up early was enough to send her into a mini-freakout.
Naturally, she didn't hold back her complaints, even going so far as to voice her grievances to my grandma. Saya shot my grandma an irritated look, exclaiming, "Seriously, who wakes up this early? She delved into a spoiled brat monologue, flaunting her status as the heir of the illustrious Takagi household. Frankly, I tuned out after the first few lines – something about "importance" and "legacy".
My grandma, however, remained unfazed, offering a serene smile. "Your mom has talked about you a lot Saya," she said, approaching Saya with an air of calm that, for some reason, unsettled her. "Don't worry, dear. Your mom insisted I treat you like I treat Will; his mom and your mom were good friends, you know."
Saya's demeanor did a 180 at that revelation. The idea of being treated on the same level as me clearly didn't sit well with her. At least she wasn't forced into a week-long survival expedition with a makeshift bow and stone knife – shoutout to those survival documentaries, by the way. Speaking of survival I wonder how grandpa's doing.
After that we had a wonderful breakfast and headed to the barn. Saya, in her pristine white sneakers, sundress, and sun hat, looked like she had just stepped off a runway rather than a farm. Needless to say, farm life wasn't exactly her vibe.
In the barn, Saya's city-girl vibe clashed hilariously with the country aesthetic. My attempts to suppress my laughter only intensified as she gingerly approached a seemingly harmless chicken.
"Saya, meet Clucky. Clucky, meet Saya," I introduced, trying to stifle a grin.
Saya eyed the chicken cautiously. "Is it going to peck me? Chickens peck, right?"
I nodded, not helping the situation. "Oh, definitely. They're known for their fierce pecking."
As Saya cautiously extended her hand, Clucky, unimpressed, waddled away. Saya shot me an annoyed glare, and I bit my lip to hold back laughter.
Next came the cows. Saya eyed them with a mix of fascination and mild horror.
"Why are they so... big? And they're staring at me, Will! What do I do?"
"Just act natural, they're cows, not velociraptors," I advised, unsuccessfully suppressing a laugh.
As we moved on to the field, Saya's struggles continued. My grandma handed her a rake, and Saya examined it as if it were an alien artifact.
"How does this thing work? Am I supposed to cast spells with it?" she asked, her confusion genuine.
I couldn't hold back anymore and burst into laughter. "No, Princess, it's for raking, not spellcasting. Here, let me show you."
I demonstrated the proper use of the rake, but Saya's attempts were far from graceful. She ended up tangling herself in the tool more than once.
As we worked on the field, Saya's efforts earned her a round of applause from the imaginary audience in my mind. Grandma, however, was more encouraging, giving Saya patient guidance.
In the midst of our countryside escapade, Saya's awkward charm and the stark contrast of her posh demeanor with the rural environment added a unique flavor on the farm.
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The apple orchard was a picturesque scene with rows of trees adorned with ripe, tempting apples. Grandma handed each of us a basket, and we set out on our apple-picking expedition.
I reached for the low-hanging fruits with ease, filling my basket steadily. Saya, however, was determined to prove herself. Spotting a particularly enticing apple higher up, she decided to take matters into her own hands – literally.
"Saya, be careful! Let me get that for you," I called out, noting the treacherous position she was attempting.
Ignoring my concern, Saya insisted, "I can do this, Will. Just watch!"
She began her ascent, trying to emulate the agility of a seasoned apple picker. The tree, however, seemed unimpressed by her determination. As Saya reached the halfway mark, the branch beneath her gave a treacherous creak.
"Saya, it's not worth it! Come down!" I urged, genuinely concerned.
Stubbornness flashed in her eyes, and she muttered, "I've got this."
But before she could complete her ascent, the branch snapped, and she began to fall. Instinctively, I rushed forward and managed to catch her mid-air, the impact making us both stagger.
"Saya, I told you it wasn't worth it," I scolded gently, relieved that she was unharmed.
Saya, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude, muttered, "Maybe climbing trees isn't my thing."
I chuckled, "Well, we all have our strengths. Let's stick to ground-level apple picking from now on, okay?"
She nodded, and we continued our apple-picking adventure, sharing a laugh as we carefully navigated the orchard. After a few hours, Grandma decided to give us a break.
As I grabbed Saya's arm, I excitedly dragged her with me. "Come on, Saya, I'll show you what I've been working on." At the time, I didn't realize Saya was a blushing mess as she followed me, and my grandma just looked at us with a smile, her hand on her cheek. Seeing this, Saya blushed even harder and obediently got dragged over to the shack.
The rustic shack, nestled among the trees, housed my latest project – an old motorcycle I'd been tinkering with during my stay. Saya, a curious mix of embarrassment and interest, looked around the makeshift workshop.
"So, commoner, what's this impressive creation of yours?" Saya inquired, attempting to regain her usual confident demeanor.
I chuckled, "It's a little something I've been fixing up. My grandpa's old motorcycle. Said he'll give it to me when I fix it up"
Saya's eyes widened, and a spark of genuine intrigue replaced her embarrassment. "You know how to fix bikes?"
"Well, not really but dad taught me how to fix the truck and I just thought hey this is just a tiny miniature car with two wheels." I replied with a grin.
As I explained the various parts and modifications, Saya's initial blush transformed into fascination.
In the midst of my tinkering, a sudden burst of laughter caught me off guard. Saya, with a gleam of amusement in her eyes, seemed to find something amusing.
"What's so amusing, princess?" I quirked an eyebrow, trying to make sense of her sudden burst of laughter.
Her laughter didn't cease, and I was left wondering if I had unknowingly made a joke without realizing it. However, as I turned to face her, she averted her gaze, twin tails swaying as she did.
Before I could inquire further, those twin tails had a mind of their own and decided to strike again, whacking me squarely in the face. "Not again," I groaned, momentarily blinded by the accidental attack.
Amidst my futile attempts to regain clarity, Saya approached, her laughter now a bit restrained. With a small, apologetic smile, she leaned in and blew gently into my eyes. "There, do you feel better, commoner?"
As I blinked away the remnants of oil-induced discomfort, I found Saya mere inches away from my face. Unaware of the proximity, she reached into her pocket, producing a handkerchief. With surprising gentleness, she wiped away something from my face.
"You had a bit of oil on your cheek," she explained, her eyes meeting mine as a subtle warmth lingered in the air between us.
As I wiped the rest of the oil off my face, Saya couldn't help but chuckle. "Looking like a grease monkey, Will?"
I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, princess. Saving me from a fashion disaster, I see."
She smirked, "Someone's got to keep you from turning into a walking oil spill."
I nudged her playfully, "Admit it, you enjoy my presence."
Saya shot back, "Don't get too comfortable, commoner. It's a one-time thing."
Ignoring her tease, I pointed dramatically at the motorcycle. "Now, prepare for the big reveal. Witness the masterpiece in progress!"
Saya raised an eyebrow, "Just don't let it blow up, okay?"
With a theatrical attempt, I started the motorcycle, and to our surprise, the engine roared to life.
Saya's eyes widened, "Well, color me impressed. The commoner knows his way around machines."
Grinning, I suggested, "Ready for a victory lap, princess?"
Saya hesitated but then smirked, "Fine, but if this ends with us tumbling into the dirt, you owe me."
I chuckled, "Deal."
We hopped on the repaired motorcycle, and I took it for a spin around the farm. Saya clung to me, a mix of excitement and trepidation on her face. The wind tousled her hair, and for a moment, the farm chores and makeshift workshop faded away.
As we parked the motorcycle back at the shack, Saya looked at me with a genuine smile, "Okay, commoner, maybe your not that useless after all."
I grinned, "Well, miracles do happen. Who knew a commoner could bring an old bike back to life? Next, I'll be fixing broken dreams."
Saya, maintaining her ojou-sana demeanor, tried to hide a faint smile. "Don't get too carried away, commoner. This doesn't change anything," she retorted, looking away with a subtle blush tinting her cheeks. I just shrugged, enjoying the wind blowing though our hair.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow on the farm, and we decided to head back to the house.
We reached the porch of the farmhouse. Grandma welcomed us with a knowing smile.
"Good work today, you two. Dinner will be ready soon," she said.
Saya gave a gracious nod, "Thank you, ma'am. Your farm life is quite... unique."
Grandma chuckled, "You'll get used to it, dear. Now, go freshen up. There's more to explore tomorrow."
With that, Saya and I went our separate ways to prepare for dinner.