Chapter Text
You weren't a loser, you were sure of it, really! You had a decent job at JojaCo, and a small circle of okay friends, but under the distractions and vices you used to forget, you had an unnerving sense of sadness that drove you absolutely nuts. Day in, day out, it was the same hellishly boring routine: wake up, take your meds, drag yourself to work, eat, and finally collapse onto your sofa. You needed a change, something big that would finally kick you out of that depressing slump, but you could never seem to work hard enough to get it. But today, all of that would change. Today was going to be different.
Clocking in at JojaCo at around 8:30 AM, you sink into your chair with a deep sigh. All you needed to do today was survive work, plaster a smile on your face, and try your best not to slam your head into the desk until it's just a gory sludge. The slight sense of normalcy slipped away in mere seconds when a horrible, nasally voice chimes in on the intercom.
Morris.
“Hello, valued JojaCo employees! I have a delightful treat for you all! A job opening in Stardew Valley is available for one lucky employee! Best of luck to everyone…”
Stardew Valley? Why did that name send such an odd jolt through you? something deep and instinctive. Memories flooded back like pieces of a broken puzzle. Vague snippets of childhood, plush toys, farm animals, and that flash of bright ginger hair. You wanted to claw your way back to those days, but all you could grasp was the ruins of a colossal fight between your mother and grandfather that turned everything upside down.
It was so many years ago, you must have been no older than eight when it happened. It was late at night during a long, hot summer, one of the hottest ones you could remember, when you heard a knock on the guest room door. Your grandfather came in, a warm smile on his wrinkled face as he sat down on the bed and rummaged in his rucksack, pulling out a wooden sword that fit perfectly in your little hands.
“Do you want to go on an adventure, ____?” he asked, and without thinking, you pulled on your dungarees over your pajamas, slipping into your boots and following him into the cool night air. Butterflies danced nervously in your stomach as dirt crunched beneath your feet on the path leading to the old mineshaft. Shadows loomed, excitement and fear collided, and as you crossed through the cave opening, a shiver tickled your spine. Water dripped, creating a symphony of echoes mingled with the distant sounds of bats and something squelching ominously beneath your feet.
Your grandfather helped you down the ladder to the first floor, which was dimly lit, the dusty ground scattered with rocks and glimmering geodes. Your grandfather smiled down at you, handing you a pickaxe, his eyes sparkling with pride.
“Just lift the pick and bring it down. Easy, right?”
You nodded, though the weight of the pickaxe felt foreign and heavy in your hands. Swinging it up, adrenaline coursed through you as it came crashing down onto the stone, resulting in a resounding “crack!” The geode shattered, revealing a beautiful amethyst, shimmering with hues of deep purple that reminded you of endless night skies or a familiar pair of eyes that seemed to fill you with a warm sensation.
“This is an amethyst... known for its calming properties. Now, it’s yours to keep.” He beamed, and you felt a surge of pride as you held the stone, cool against your skin. until the moment was shattered by a strange noise behind you.
“____, watch out! It’s a slime!”
You whipped around just in time to see a green blob with glowing red eyes charging at you. Panic surged through you, freezing your limbs as it lunged, gripping your thigh with an iron-like grip. Pain shot through you like fire, intense and blinding, as it gnawed at your skin. Your grandfather shouted, trying to pry the creature off as you writhed in agony.
“Hold on, ___! I’ll help you!”
With a fierce determination, he raised his sword, cutting down with precise force. The slime crumpled to dust at last, but the damage was done. Kneeling beside you, he rummaged through his bag, pulling out disinfectant. As the stinging alcohol hit your wound, tears sprang to your eyes.
“Grandpa… I feel so dizzy…”
“It’s okay, kid... I’ll fix you up. Just hang in there.” His hands were gentle but rushed as he bandaged your leg, lifting you into his arms afterward. “Whew… not as young as I used to be.” His voice was warm, filled with reassurance. “Close your eyes, little one. We’ll be home in no time.”
“It’s okay, kid... I’ll fix you up. Just hang in there.” His hands were gentle but rushed as he bandaged your leg, lifting you into his arms afterward. “Whew… not as young as I used to be.” His voice was warm, filled with reassurance. “Close your eyes, little one. We’ll be home in no time.”
Minutes passed in a blur. You felt the rustle of soft bedsheets beneath you, the throbbing pain in your leg still present but fading. Just as you were on the edge of sleep, a cacophony shattered the moment—a heart-wrenching argument echoing through the house.
“Dad, how could you be so reckless? She could have died without your quick thinking! Look at that wound!”
“I’m sorry! I thought she was old enough to—”
“Old enough?! She’s eight! You thought *that* was mature enough for the mines? You’re so ignorant! We’re leaving—now! ____! Pack your bags. We’re going!”
You found yourself reflecting on that night often. Back then, you thought your mother was in the wrong for cutting him off so abruptly, and you didn’t understand why. But now, you completely agreed; what was up with that guy? It all seemed so strange. You still had that scar, and whenever you looked at it, anger bubbled up inside you. How could you have been so naive?
Your last encounter with him played out like a scene from a low-budget horror movie, a memory you had always tried your best to push back to the darkest corner of your mind. At thirteen, you stood in a cramped room, surrounded by family members. The air was thick and musty, a clear indicator of a house too full of sadness and too empty of life. Your grandfather was bedridden, pale and frail, and you struggled to even look at him. Your mother gently nudged you forward, her tone soft but insistent, urging you to kneel by his bedside.
“Grandpa…”
“Hello, my child. Listen closely. I don’t have much time left, and I have something important to give you,” he said, his voice tinged with the gravity of finality.
His trembling hand reached out, holding a manila envelope sealed with a bright purple wax stamp, an image of a stardrop fruit that felt oddly significant. You reached for it, your curiosity almost overwhelming, but he stopped you with a frail gesture.
“Uh-uh… not yet, my child. You must open this when you are truly ready.”
“But how will I know?” you asked, your eyebrows knitting in confusion.
“You will know. I promise. When the world feels like it has turned its back on you, when everything feels dark and lonely, that’s when you should open it.”
“Yes, Grandpa…”
Present day
You shifted uncomfortably in your office chair, your grandfather’s words echoing in your mind as an old song stuck on repeat. Dark and lonely? You let out a bitter chuckle that sounded more like a scoff. You had basically zero friends, and one look out the foggy window made your heart sink further. Why did the city have to be so gray and lifeless? The valleys always called to you with their bright colors and clean air, worlds away from the haze and stench of Zuzu City. It felt like you were trapped in a wasteland where happiness went to die, an awful metaphor but one that fit just right.
Then, realization hit you.
You still had the letter! On the first day of work, you had tossed it into your desk drawer without a second thought, believing it might inspire you. But then you forgot about it, burying it under piles of paperwork and moldy old lunch wrappers.
With a burst of determination, you yanked open the drawer and began rummaging through the mess like a treasure hunter on a mission. There it was, a bit sticky from a spilled Joja Cola, but undeniably the same manila envelope that once held promise.
“Okay, Grandpa… let’s see what you left me. Here we go, the rest of my life,”
You gently tear open the purple seal, pulling out the white paper. This is what it reads:
My dear ____,
If you're reading this, you must be in dire need of a change.
The same thing happened to me long ago. I'd lost sight of what mattered most in life… real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong.
I've enclosed the deed to that place… My pride and joy: ____ farm. It's located in Stardew Valley, on the southern coast. It's the perfect place to start your new life.
This was my most precious gift of all, and now it's yours. I know you'll honor the family name, my dear. Good luck.
Love, grandpa.
P.S. If Lewis is still alive, say hi to the old guy for me, will ya?
It took you a while to process everything; you couldn't help but let out a tiny gasp. You didn't deserve this, not one bit, but why did the fates align so well? That whole job opening Morris was talking about, though you didn't want to work at JojaCo anymore, you could finally return to the place you felt the most welcome, the place you actually wanted to call home. Your heart raced at the thought of escaping the sterile, gray walls of the office and trading them for the vibrant greens and browns of Stardew Valley. The memories of your grandfather, the warmth of his smile, and the thrill of your adventure together flooded back to you. Stardew Valley was more than just a distant childhood memory; it was a sanctuary filled with innocence and possibility, a world waiting for you to rediscover it.
As the workday dragged on, you fought to keep your composure, hiding the excitement bubbling inside you. The clock ticked painfully slow, each second punctuated by the mundane sounds of your colleagues tapping away at their keyboards, but your mind was elsewhere, plotting your escape.
Finally, as the clock struck 5 PM, you felt a wave of hope wash over you. It was time to head home, but this time, you wouldn't be returning to the same old routine. You would apply for that job, you would throw yourself back into a life that had excitement, purpose, and connection. With a deep breath, you packed your things, fueled by a new determination.
Tomorrow, you would make the call, reach out to whoever was in charge of that job opening, and try your best not to completely fuck it up. The thought sent shivers of anticipation through you. You could feel the warmth of the sun on your back, the soft rustling of crops, and the joy of meeting new friends. You could imagine fishing by the river or exploring the old mineshaft, far away from muted fluorescent lights and office gossip. As you stepped outside, the world felt different, a little brighter, a little more hopeful. You glanced up at the sky, slowly fading into the hues of sunset, and knew that you were at the beginning of a whole new life.