The woman’s grip on the shovel was tight, her stance rigid and defensive. Mark could feel her suspicion pressing down on him, as palpable as the tension in the air.

His mind scrambled for a believable story, something—anything—that wouldn’t make things worse. “There’s a cemetery next to this house,” Mark began, keeping his voice as steady as he could. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he forced himself to appear calm.

“I came here to visit my grandparents’ graves. I just got into town.” The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, but right now, it was the only option he had to keep the shovel from swinging his way.

Her sharp, grey eyes narrowed slightly, but the shovel remained raised, her knuckles white around its handle. The wind tugged at the brim of her wide hat, rustling the leaves of a nearby tree.

The air was thick with tension, and the weight of the guitar case strap digging into Mark’s shoulder only grounded him further in the uneasy moment.

“I’m not from around here—I grew up in another state,” he added, layering a bit of truth to keep the lie from unraveling too quickly.

“Look, I know this sounds weird, but I have documents in the front pocket of my guitar case to prove it. Just, uh, promise you won’t take a swing at me while I grab them?”

Her grip on the shovel loosened slightly, though not enough to make Mark feel safe. “Alright,” she said cautiously, her curiosity starting to creep in. “Drop the guitar case. I’ll check the documents.”

Mark exhaled, his pulse slowing just a fraction. He carefully lowered the case to the ground, keeping his hands raised to show he was no threat.

With slow, deliberate movements, he unzipped the envelope from the front pocket, feeling like he was in some kind of high-stakes negotiation. He tossed the envelope gently towards her, his hands raised in surrender.

The woman picked it up, eyes still locked on him as she tucked the shovel under her arm and began flipping through the documents.

Minutes dragged by. The wind rustled through the nearby tree, filling the silence. Finally, she looked back at him, adjusting her hat as she spoke.

“So, your name’s Mark Castle, and you’re visiting your grandparents’ graves,” she said, her voice as sharp as before. “But if that’s true, what are you doing in my backyard? I could call the cops for trespassing.”

Mark swallowed hard. He wasn’t out of the woods yet. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” he said quickly, the weight of the situation bearing down on him. “I was... well, I was following a black cat.”

Her brow furrowed, and Mark could feel his lie beginning to slip. He pressed on. “I saw it by a statue in the cemetery. It looked like it wanted to get my attention, then got stuck in some plastic. I helped it, and then this nun came by and fed it. She offered to help me find my grandparents’ graves, but she was busy, so I kept looking on my own. The cat led me through a broken part of the wall, and, uh... well, now I’m here.”

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He didn’t dare mention the strange events that led him to this world in the first place. That truth would make him sound completely unhinged. Talking about a cookie person pulling him into this world? Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well.

The woman crossed her arms, skepticism etched deep into her features. “So you followed a cat through a hole in the wall, and now you’re in my backyard?” Her voice dripped with doubt.

Mark nodded, trying to appear calm even as his thoughts raced. "That’s pretty much the whole story."

Her sharp gaze remained locked on him, unwavering. “And why were you covering your face earlier? And where’s this cat now?” she asked, her tone challenging him to explain further.

Mark swallowed, realizing he was backed into a corner. “I... I was covering my face because I didn’t want to get caught trespassing. Turns out, it didn’t help much.”

For the first time, a flicker of amusement crossed her face. “No, it didn’t.” Mark let out a nervous chuckle, sensing the slightest shift in her demeanor.

He hoped to build on that. “As for the cat... it was by that big tree earlier.” He pointed to a towering oak next to the house. “But it’s probably hiding now.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “If you’re telling the truth, where’s the cat now?” Mark felt a pang of desperation. If that cat didn’t show up, he was screwed.

He turned and called out, “Hey, little buddy! Come on, I know you’re hiding somewhere.” There was a long pause, the air thick with anticipation. Mark felt the pit in his stomach grow, but then—miraculously—a soft meow broke through the tension.

He spun around to see the black cat casually strolling out from behind the tree, licking its paws as if the whole situation was beneath it.

“There you are, bud!” Mark said, nearly sagging in relief. The cat trotted over, rubbing itself against his legs, purring softly. The woman blinked in surprise, her rigid posture easing for the first time.

“Mittens... actually likes you?” she muttered, her disbelief evident. “That’s... strange. Mittens usually hates strangers.” Mark chuckled, sensing a shift in the air. “I guess I’m just lucky today, huh?”

The woman’s gaze lingered on the cat for a moment, her suspicion softening into something more curious.

“Alright,” she said finally. “You’re off the hook this time. But don’t trespass again.” Mark let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with relief. “Can I have my envelope back? I’ll need those documents to settle in town.”

The woman handed him the envelope but didn’t move away. Her curiosity wasn’t quite satisfied yet. “Sure,” she said, her voice still firm. “But I need to see what’s in that guitar case. Just for safety.”

Mark hesitated but knew he couldn’t refuse. Kneeling down, he slowly opened the case, revealing its contents. “Is this really a guitar case?” she asked, inspecting the buttons on the side. “It looks new. Did you just buy it?”

He flashed a half-smile. “It’s a gift from a friend. The buttons are for amplifying the sound.” The woman nodded, examining it carefully before finally stepping back. “Alright, you’re clear.”

Mark slung the guitar case over his shoulder, the weight of the day starting to settle on him. He glanced at the cat, which had nestled itself comfortably by the large tree. The woman, now standing near the front steps, seemed to have relaxed, but there was still something unreadable in her expression as she watched him.

“Well, this is my cue to take my leave, farm lady,” Mark said, giving a apologetic bow before turning to go.

As he walked away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t quite done with this place. Something about the woman, the cat, and this strange corner of the world clung to him like a shadow.

Disclaimer:

The characters, settings, and elements in this fanfiction are the intellectual property of their respective owners. New Life, New Saga is inspired by Summertime Saga, which is owned by Kompas Productions. This fanfiction is created purely for fun and non-commercial purposes, and I do not claim any ownership of the original works. All rights to the original material belong to their creators. If you appreciate my work and would like to support my writing, consider making a donation on my Patreon. Thank you for your support and for reading!