Chapter Text
Have you ever wondered how nature gets its glow?
Who gives it light and color as the seasons come and go?
Who helps all creatures great and small to walk, to swim, to fly,
Who crafts such tiny details—you might see them if you try,
For it's all the work of fairies but they stay well out of sight,
And the first time that a baby laughs, a fairy's life takes flight.
At the center of Hope's Hollow, lies the Pixie Dust Tree. It stands as a symbol of peace, harmony, and hope among all types of fairies, giving life, power, and—the most important staple of all fairies—the ability of flight. And standing at the base of the twisting branch leading to the top crevice of the hollow stood Hajime Hinata, only a small winged figure in the shadow of the Tree. He took a shaky breath inward, then another breath outward, and stepped in.
What gave him the confidence to finally talk to the ministers of the seasons, he did not know. But when he’d woken up that morning, going from his home in Tinker’s Nook to do his weekly rounds, checking if every invention or tool was working correctly for the other types of fairies, and seeing how busy everyone was preparing for the seasonal voyage to the mainland… it triggered him into a bout of adrenaline that made him stop in his tracks, and march down to the Tree with the sole purpose of asking—more or less, begging—to go to the mainland as well.
Hajime was a tinker fairy. And while he took much pride in that, and he was arguably one of the most hard-working and diligent of his entire guild, the fact of the matter was, tinker fairies didn’t go to the mainland. It was the only thing that he resented about his job, and the only thing that sent him into doubts about the importance of his work. Especially when they were the only types of fairies that didn’t specialize in nature or pixie dust. And especially when the other fairies would speak of the beautiful buildings, scenery, and lively human towns of the mainland on such an elevated level.
It sucked. But the busywork of a tinker fairy just barely distracted him enough to forget about that desire, most times. He made things, he fixed things, and then after a while, the seasons changed, and he prepared to get everyone set for their jobs on the mainland with his crafts.
But ironically, that was all thrown away and forgotten as he stormed into the Pixie Dust Tree, with no real plan of action other than to plead his case to the ministress fairy of Spring.
The pathway he walked along opened out into a large hall, naturally carved out into the tree in beautiful pillars and swirls. He’d only been inside a handful of times, seeing as there was no real reason to visit the ministers unless there was a problem. He hoped they weren’t alarmed by his unannounced presence. Though, he only really needed to speak to one—Ministress Yukizome of Spring, who was kind all the times he’d spoken to her. Since Winter was only just ending, she’d be the one managing over this year’s mainland voyage. If he had any chance to go, Spring would be the time.
That is, if he could find her. But the hall was completely empty, and after a moment of thought, Hajime wanted to slap himself in stupidity.
Of course, they wouldn’t be here. Again, they had no real reason to. Yukizome would be working right then, duh. He closed his eyes, and took another deep breath to calm his naïve, beating heart. And why would Ministress Yukizome even want to use her sparse amount of time to listen to a random tinker fairy prattle on about why he specifically should go to the mainland. That would be ridicu—
“What do you think you’re doing here?” A sudden voice boomed from behind him. Hajime jumped in an embarrassing manner, choosing to immediately forget the half-shriek he let out as he whipped around, briefly catching air, only to see just the person he hoped he wouldn’t run into that day. The minister fairy of Summer himself, Juzo Sakakura.
Considering that Hajime had only been expecting to talk to Yukizome that day, he was not ready to confront the large, dark-haired elder. Because where she would’ve at least let him down easy, Sakakura was definitely not as kind. Hajime cursed himself in his head.
“Minister Sakakura,” He bowed his head slightly on instinct. “Sir. Uhh….”
“Hajime Hinata. Shouldn’t you be working right now? There a problem with production?” He asked, curtly, crossing his arms with one eyebrow raised.
“Um, yes, well—I mean, no! Well—yes to the first question, and no to the second one, um—”
“Well, would you get on with it? The ministers are all very busy this season's change. Get to the point.”
“Right. Sorry. Well,” Hajime scratched at his side, awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “Speaking of the season change, aha, everyone is preparing for the mainland, right? And well, due to the rush that comes with spring fever, people getting lazier, sloppier… many of the tinkers’ tools and inventions are breaking down and not working….”
“…Which is why we have fairies like you, to check these things before they're sent out, which is what you should be doing right now.” Sakakura grunted, turning and bobbing on his heel to fly to a separate opening in the hall adjacent to the one Hajime came from. The grin Hajime had plastered across his face twitched, agitated already. He sprang in his stance, leaping upwards to catch up with the minister.
“But, as I’ve been working hard for the past few months, I’ve noticed just how bad it’s getting, and my mind has gone to thinking what would happen if our supplies continued to break while we were on the mainland…. There wouldn’t be anyone—there wouldn’t be a tinker fairy to fix it. So….”
Sakakura had stopped at that point, turning around to meet Hajime’s gaze with one of cynical amusement.
“You can just stop right there. I’m guessing you want to be the one to go to the mainland?” He started, with a smirk. It was a question, but he didn’t give Hajime the chance to answer. “Listen here. You are a tinker. That was established the second you arrived. Tinkers do not go to the mainland. They have no use there. If we let you go, everyone else would want to go too, which would be bad, because there are too many of you, and too little resources. We’re already struggling with everything else, right? So why would we add on more preparation for tinkers that don’t supply pixie dust or contribute anything to the seasons?” He scoffed.
Now that last comment struck a nerve with Hajime. “Are you serious? Without the tinkers’ inventions, it’d be even harder to get the seasons ready in time! I don’t think it’s a lot to ask to see the places we work to perfect all year,” Hajime blustered.
Sakakura moved closer to him, only a few inches from his face. “Watch your tone. I don’t know why you’ve come here to ask for something so ridiculous when you should be doing your job,” he stared him up and down and sighed, roughly. “But clearly, you can’t even do that right, if you’ve stopped to spout garbage at me. Now. Goodbye.” He backed away, and promptly flew farther down the curve of the hallway, out of Hajime’s line of sight.
The brunette huffed out loud, grimacing at the place where the minister had stood.
Of course he’d been shot down. What did he think would happen? Hajime allowed himself back down on the branch floor, kicking aimlessly at some dirt settling in one of the ridges. In only a few minutes his confidence had been completely drained from him.
Pushing down that useless and defeated feeling in his chest, Hajime absentmindedly hopped up again, flying back to where he’d left off on his duties for the day.