Author's Notes: Down to the friggin' wire with this one - I seriously just wrote this all up today in a burst of inspiration (Chihiro Onitsuka has a lot of melancholy songs that work perfectly for this). I had the idea in mind, but no idea on how to execute it - hopefully, the end result is alright, though! This is for tapioca two-step for the Secret Santa Gift Exchange - I hope you like it! Thanks for your great list - having recently seen Moana when the exchange started, the idea of following Perry through Castanet's decline really jumped out at me. And, after talking over the idea with Lucy Kay, I decided to keep the last names I normally use for Castanet's residents, out of habit. Hopefully, that's alright.

Thanks to Mnemah for hosting, and to everyone who participated! Feel free to leave a review, if you'd like.

BLIGHT

"Here we are - I'm terribly sorry that it's a bit overcooked," Colleen Talbot said kindly, handing the still-warm carton of chicken and mushroom rice to the beaming pastor. She was a bit slower to relinquish the thermos of peppermint tea, relishing the comforting heat it provided her in the sharp December chill that pervaded the drafty, old church. "I'm not sure what's going on with that stove of ours right now, but even Yolanda's been having trouble in the kitchen lately. Things just seem to be taking longer to cook properly."

"You're absolutely fine, Colleen, no worries!" Perry Whitman reassured her, happily clutching the carton and thermos close to his chest. "This is a very wonderful surprise, thank you so much! I only wish there were something that I could-"

Colleen held up a hand to stop him, wagging a gloved finger at him in admonishment. "Ah-ah-ah! Need I remind you that this is a gift, young man? No reciprocation required. You just enjoy it, do you understand?"

Nodding, Perry's cheeks colored a bit in embarrassment, though his smile remained. "Oh, of course, but all the same - if there's ever anything-"

"-Then we'll let you know," Colleen interrupted, her voice firm, but not unkind. She patted him on the shoulder and pecked him on the forehead as though he were her own child, ruffling his cobalt hair. "Just promise me you'll keep warm this winter, hmm? It's terribly chilly in here - I don't know how you stand it!" She let her violet eyes drift concernedly about the church, taking in a pew that looked to be needing a new leg, what appeared to be a crack in one of the stained-glass windowpanes, and the way the door to Perry's bedroom was still missing a hinge. Tutting and shaking her head, her ginger brows knit together. "Really, you'd think they would have fixed that door for you by now, at least..."

A wry chuckle escaped Perry's throat as he looked back over at the bedroom door, shrugged, and smiled. "Well, it's nothing urgent - I sleep with the door open, anyway, and Owen told me they've been having trouble with the forge lately. But, he's reassured me that they're on it, and I can certainly bundle up to ward off the chill - no need to worry! I still have those lovely blankets Shelley brought over, too."

Nodding smartly, Colleen's face relaxed some. "Well, that's good... oh, you know we can't help but worry about you up here, though. Looks like we all may need to bring out the blankets this winter, actually - Elli says we're in for a very cold one. I think it's that... oh, it's something Spanish, Jake would know-"

"La Niña?" Perry offered helpfully, prompting Colleen to clap her hands in affirmation and point at him.

"Yes, that's it! Thank you."

"Of course. Well-" Perry shrugged again, heading to the altar to set the containers down, "-I'm certain Sephia will help keep us warm through the winter! We've nothing to worry about!"

A bemused smile upon her lips, Colleen looked up to the stained-glass depiction of the aforementioned Harvest Goddess, where the gleaming, amber light of the December sunset had snagged on the damaged pane she'd seen earlier. It seemed to wink at her through the cracked glass, as if assuring her that Perry's notion was sound. "Hmm." She folded her arms over the front of her heavy blue pea coat and tilted her head, lips pursed. "You know, you're right - I suppose we haven't, have we?"

Straightening up and readjusting her white leather gloves, she reached over and squeezed Perry's shoulder. "Well, dear, I'd better get going - I've got some laundry to catch up on back at the inn. You take care, alright?"

"Of course! You, too - and tell everyone I said hello, would you?"

Waving over her shoulder as she turned to leave, Colleen paused at the door and nodded. "Absolutely. Good evening, dear."

Out she went into the frigid dusk, a gust of freezing air briefly sweeping into the church before the door closed behind her. Nonetheless, Perry turned to grab his supper and headed back to his room to eat. Head bowed, he said a quick prayer of thanks to Sephia for his blessings before he tucked in, his heart warmed despite how cold the quiet, empty building was.

After the bitter winter they'd endured, fires remaining persistently weak as the months crept by, the residents of Castanet were almost surprised when the warmth of the early March sun finally began shrinking away the icicles, dripping onto patchy piles of off-white slush on the ground.

"...And then it chased after me, but I was too fast for it! It had all these big, sharp teeth, and huge red eyes-" Here, Paolo Takomoto opened his own brown eyes as wide as he could, making circles around them with his thumbs and forefingers, "-and, like, a million tentacles!"

Laughing and shaking his head fondly, Perry patted the little boy on the shoulder, watching as Paolo went back to drawing the alleged horror of the deep. "Well, that sounds like quite an ordeal! Brave young man, aren't you? Aquaman himself would be proud."

Paolo scoffed, blowing a raspberry while he colored in his arch-enemy's eyes with a red crayon. "Dude, Aquaman sucks! He's no match for Poseidon-Tron, Vanquisher of the Terrible Kraken! Yahhh!" Here, he snatched up a pink crayon now, and made a big, messy scribble under the creature's head - Perry could only guess that it was supposed to be the endless mass of tentacles Paolo had described. Writing "DEAD/RIP" under the drawing, Paolo held it up proudly. "Chloe's gonna be sooooo jealous when I tell her."

"Oh, don't tease the girl," Perry admonished playfully, plucking Paolo's snowman-patterned toboggan off his head and bopping him gently with it. The church doors opened behind him, bringing in another brisk blast of spring air. He turned around, waving at the new visitor as he continued to address Paolo: "I hear those pirates are pretty tough customers!"

"Ah, I can take her," Paolo retorted confidently, also turning and smiling when he saw his cousin strolling down the aisle, a burlap sack over his shoulder. "Yo, Fish Breath! Didja hear what I was telling Pastor Whitman?"

Chuckling, Toby Nishimura gave Perry a polite nod as he approached the pair, kneeling down and ruffling Paolo's already-messy brown hair. "Hmm, was it about who really ate all of our sushi last week?" he guessed, grinning as Paolo squirmed and shoved his hand away in protest.

"I told you, it was that creepy cat who always hangs around on the roof," Paolo grumbled, trying in vain to fix his hair and snatching his toboggan back from an amused Perry. Cramming it crookedly atop his head, he turned and snatched up his drawing, waving it at them. "But, whatever, no - I was telling him about this!"

"I heard a lot about his adventures on the high seas," Perry elaborated, watching Toby's green eyes twinkle as he observed his cousin's masterpiece. "He's a regular... hmm." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, he thinks very little of Aquaman, so... a regular... Moana?"

Paolo scrunched up his face and stuck out his tongue. "Why do I gotta be a girl?"

"You tell me, Mr. Da Vinci," Toby teased, handing the drawing back to his cousin. "But that's a really good picture! I bet even Julius would be jealous."

"Just making everyone jealous today, aren't you, Paolo?" Perry chimed in. He looked back at Toby, nodding at the burlap sack. "Catch anything good today, then?"

Narrowing his eyes, Paolo glared up at Toby, looking hurt. "Hey! You weren't going fishing without me again, were you? You promised!"

"No, no!" Toby held up his free hand to calm Paolo down, and shook his head. "I wasn't, buddy, I promise - this is just scrap from Mr. Travers' boat." He rattled the sack, which made a clinking noise as chunks of wood and metal were jostled around inside. "I was going to go dispose of it later."

"Ohh... alright." Paolo relaxed, poking at the bag curiously. "Did you guys finish fixing his boat yet?"

Toby scrunched up his face wryly. "Not yet, unfortunately... I mean, it's coming along pretty well, but that storm really did a number on it. He's lucky he didn't get hurt out there. Uncle Ozzie's gonna be helping him work on it a bit longer tonight, so I'm gonna start dinner when we get home. You can help with the dishes, okay?"

Paolo nodded. "Okay, sure. Just lemme know when we're ready to go fishing again, alright?"

"You got it," Toby agreed, straightening his thick gray scarf and sharing an awkward grimace with Perry - the way things had been around Castanet recently, that promise was looking to be kept later rather than sooner. The seas had been getting rougher and far more violent lately, though nobody could pinpoint any particular reason why. "I just hope they come back again soon."

"Maybe all those storms scared 'em off?" Paolo suggested, eyebrows raised. "Or maybe they just got too cold and went down to the south because of that... that 'Latifah' thing."

Suppressing a chortle at this, Toby patted him on the shoulder. "Yeah, that might be it - but I'll keep an eye out for them. Promise! Perry, thank you very much for looking after him today," he added gratefully, getting a nonchalant wave in response.

"Oh, it was absolutely my pleasure - he's a delight to look after! You boys take care, alright?"

"You, too," Toby returned, though he paused as he started to walk Paolo towards the door, turning back around and snapping his fingers. "Actually, if you'd like to join us, we're making stir fry tonight - we've got enough for all of us."

Perry shook his head. "Oh, I couldn't possibly impose-"

"Ahh, just say 'yes,'" Paolo cut in, rolling his eyes and looking up at the pastor in exasperation. "Toby's not gonna shut up till you do, anyway."

"Guilty as charged," Toby admitted, flashing Perry a sheepish grin and motioning towards the church doors with his head. "But, it's really no trouble. How about it?"

Chewing at his lower lip for a moment, Perry finally gave in and shrugged, though his face lit up. "Well, thank you very much, then, truly! I'll just go grab my coat and gloves..."

After getting himself ready, Perry followed Toby and Paolo outside, the crisp air of the late afternoon feeling refreshing on his skin. They made their way carefully across the still-slippery plaza, though Perry found his gaze drifting out to the sparkling sea.

The gold-tinged sky was bright and clear over Castanet, but he saw a thick pile of dark clouds stretching over the distant horizon. As he looked down to the docks - where Ozzie and Pascal were still working to patch up the damaged shanty boat - and back out to sea, a shiver ran down his spine. He wasn't sure it had anything to do with the cold.

Sending a quick, silent prayer to Sephia to watch over the residents of Castanet, he tore his gaze away and continued following the other boys, waving politely to a few familiar faces out on the streets.

At least, Perry mused one Wednesday, winter was over and done with for the time being. They wouldn't have to worry about the fires not being able to heat up their homes sufficiently enough to ward off the chill. Not until winter rolled back around again, anyway.

Now, however, it seemed that the misfortune continued to drift in on the spring breezes - the storms had rolled ever-closer to the mainland throughout March and April, harsh and bitter.

Still, he didn't expect to see a panicked Craig Sellers burst into his church one particularly rainy afternoon, dripping wet and throwing back the hood of his brown slicker. His burgundy eyes darted frantically around the church, and he appeared to be muttering to himself as Perry approached him, brows twisted with concern - he knew Marimba Farm had been in a slump recently, their produce growing slower than usual. Whatever didn't succumb to disease or pests was instead coming out sickly and pale.

"Craig, what's wrong?" he asked softly, getting the harried man to look over at him.

"My - my kid," Craig muttered, voice shaking as he looked around the church once again. "Taylor. You seen him anywhere today? Or yesterday?"

Feeling his heart speed up a bit, Perry shook his head, anxiety beginning to bubble up in the pit of his stomach. "I haven't, no," he answered, wondering whether or not to guide Craig to the pews to sit him down and calm him a bit. "Why?"

Shooting Perry a disbelieving glance, Craig threw out his hands. "Well, I can't find him, now can I? Why d'you think I'm askin'?! Geez!"

"Alright, alright-" Perry moved to pat him on the shoulder, but thought better of it, drawing his hand back after a moment. "Why don't you tell me what happened? Just take a deep breath, alright?"

"My. Kid's. Missin'," Craig emphasized impatiently, smacking his fist on his open palm to emphasize each word. "He tells Ruth and me the other night that he's stayin' with Paolo, but when I check with Ozz this mornin', he says Taylor ain't there, and - says he never seen him there, and - and... Hamilton ain't seen him, or Ramsey, or - or..." He started to hyperventilate as he went on, shaking his head.

Deciding to follow Perry's suggestion, he took a few long, deep breaths to calm himself down, though his hands were still trembling. His voice cracked as he kept speaking: "I gotta get outta here, then. Way it's stormin' out there, I - I don't... I been arguin' with him about the way stuff's been lately, yellin' at him and the girls cause they all think it's gonna be okay and that that damn Goddess is gonna fix everything she's been screwin' up lately-" Perry winced at this, but otherwise stayed silent, "but - but... I didn't mean to make him run off, and-"

"Mr. Sellers, I promise you I'll keep a lookout for him," Perry interrupted gently, trying to calm the panic rising in his own chest at the news of Taylor's disappearance. "If you'd like, I can grab my coat and we can go look for him together, alright?"

With a shaky breath, Craig nodded, pulling the hood of his slicker back up. "Yeah. Yeah, that's - that's good. That'll do. Thanks, kid. 'Preciate it."

Perry smiled warmly. "Anytime." After grabbing his raincoat and umbrella, he and Craig headed out into the downpour - though they stopped halfway across as they heard Craig's daughter, Anissa, calling for him. Hood of her own raincoat down, she ran up to them, dark hair plastered flat to her skull.

"Dad!" she repeated, skidding to a stop and bending down to catch her breath. "M-mom... Mom called me at... Town Hall... as I was... was leaving," she managed between labored breaths. "Taylor's... Taylor's okay!"

Mouth dropping open, Craig pulled Anissa into a tight hug, which she returned after a moment. "Oh, thank God! Where is he? What the hell happened?!"

Pulling back from the hug, Anissa pointlessly pulled the hood of her light green raincoat up and brushed away the wet strands of hair clinging to her face, shivering a bit. "Aunt H-Helen called... Taylor just - just..." She stopped and screwed up her face for a moment, before finally letting out a sneeze. "Excuse me - she said Taylor just... showed up at her door earlier! Mom found a note in his bedroom..."

"Helen?" Craig repeated quietly, his sister-in-law's name almost lost beneath the roaring downpour. "The hell's he doin' all the way out at her place?! How'd he even-" He cut himself off and shook his head. "Ah, fuck it. He's safe. We know he's safe now. That - that's good, just... what note?"

"Mom's got it," Anissa explained, smiling gratefully as Perry finally snapped out of his shocked stupor and popped his umbrella open, ushering them all underneath it and motioning for them to follow him into town. "He - he said he's going to try and find... something to help us out. I don't know what he thinks he can do, but... he left to get help, I guess."

"Damn near gave us heart attacks," Craig grumbled, though there was a note of relief in his voice. "Crazy-ass kid, tryin' to play the hero like that..."

"At least he's safe," Perry reminded him, prompting a nod from Anissa. "Sephia's protecting him, I'm sure."

Craig scoffed and rolled his eyes at this. "Yeah? She is, huh? You ask me, it's the only thing she's done right recently."

Shooting a glare at her father for his rudeness, Anissa opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when she glanced at Perry from the corner of her eye and saw him shake his head slightly. It's okay, he mouthed, though he still looked stung by the remark.

I'm sorry, she mouthed back, though he only repeated his previous words to her in response. Heaving a great sigh, Anissa swallowed hard and gave him a wry smile. "Well... thank you for helping us look, Perry. Come on, Dad... let's go home and give Taylor a call."

"Oh, I'm gonna give him a call, alright," Craig groused, clenching his jaw. He gave Perry a curt nod over his shoulder. "Later, kid. Thanks again."

Feeling a strange, uncomfortable sensation in his chest, Perry nodded back. "Of course. Anytime. Have a blessed day, you two..."

After watching the pair head through town and onto the road leading out to the farmlands, Perry cast a pensive gaze up to the steely-gray sky, clutching his umbrella tightly and shaking his head. He found so many troubling questions crowding his mind that he couldn't figure out which ones to ask first. After a few seconds of watching the rain continue to beat down on the plaza, he uttered a frustrated groan and spun around to stalk back into church, closing his umbrella and shaking the rain off of it.

When he looked up, his gaze instinctively caught the cracked depiction of Sephia in the far window, dark and shimmering faintly with the rain behind it. His amber eyes lingered on it for a moment, and then over to the faded fresco he could just barely spot through the doorway to his room.

His movements were almost mechanical as he made his way into the bedroom, kneeling down before the fresco with his head bowed and hands clasped.

"Please forgive us any transgressions we may have committed against you," he whispered, his throat going dry as a loud clap of thunder sounded in response to his pleas - he wondered for a moment if it was nature's way of mocking him. Craig's earlier remarks still rang in his ears. "Please, Sephia," he repeated desperately. "Please, guide us through this..."

July was smothering Castanet in a thick, nearly-unbearable blanket as the slow decline continued. The seas and storms remained as tumultuous as ever, the earth continued to leach its own life away... and now, to add insult to injury, the breezes had weakened considerably, granting the residents little in the way of respite from the sweltering heat. It seemed as though Castanet was falling apart piece-by-piece, and tearing Perry's heart apart further with each day. With all the rain, the air was maddeningly humid and muggy, and he found it chipping away at his sanity as he sweated out his days in the sauna that the church had become.

Thankfully, the townsfolk had taken mercy on him - he'd taken to visiting them fairly frequently now, in their wonderfully air-conditioned homes and places of business, even if only for scant few hours at a time. Gilbert Hamilton had finally loaned him a standing fan for his room - "You'll burn up in your sleep," he'd insisted over Perry's protests. "No rush to return it, of course. Use it as you see fit."

Laying on his thin cot and feeling the delicious, cool air wash over him, Perry stared listlessly at the ceiling, too lethargic to move. He'd felt something close to anger and fear swirling inside him moments ago, but now - it was all blank. The trees in the Fugue Forest had recently become sick and dying - Just like Castanet, naturally, he thought to himself - and he'd just spoken to Renee MacArthur only an hour ago.

With the lack of wind putting their windmill out of commission for the foreseeable future, and the grass in poor condition, preparing feed for the animals at Horn Ranch was currently too intensive a process for them to sustain their large herds and flocks for long - and their emergency surplus was dwindling fast in spite of all their careful efforts to ration it. They were starting to have to sell some of the animals they cared for.

"What in the world is happening to us?" Renee lamented quietly, shimmering brown eyes watching as gleaming rivulets of water dribbled down the stained glass following yet another storm. The sun had come out for a while, but they knew it wouldn't be long before it disappeared again, and the thunder and lightning returned. "I don't get it. Why?" She looked over at Perry for an answer, finding the same question in his own helpless eyes, and her shoulders slumped at his despondent silence. "We're... going to be okay, right?" she pressed, watching Perry pick anxiously at the hem of his black overshirt. Feeling her heart wrench at the sight, she continued: "I want to stay positive, I want to - I want to tell my parents, hey, we'll get through this. You know? But, I just hear myself saying it in my head, and it sounds so... stupid..."

Biting at her lip, she looked back out the window and blinked away the sting at the corners of her eyes. "I don't wanna have to leave here," she finished, her voice hitching slightly.

"...We will get through this," Perry finally answered, wondering why it felt like a lie, and feeling sick to his stomach. "We'll get through this, Renee. I... don't know how, but... we will. We'll all just have to..."

His eyes caught Sephia's form again. The nausea intensified, and he looked away.

"...Be there for each other, and do the best we can," he finished quietly, watching Renee nod solemnly and hug her knees to her chest.

They both knew it wasn't enough.

"I - I still... I feel like I'm always seeing him out of the corner of my eye. And then I turn, and... there's nothing. And I want to throw up, and cry, and just..."

Lower lip trembling a bit, Mira Jensen let her words trail off and took a deep, shuddering breath as Perry gently pushed the box of tissues towards her. Only a month had passed since the fateful November day that Mira's husband had succumbed to pneumonia, and she'd been coming to the church almost every day since the funeral, staying as long as she could stand to.

"It's okay, Mira," Perry said quietly, feeling his heart ache at the sight of the despondent, disheveled widow shivering on the pew next to him. "Take your time, okay? I know it hurts, but-"

Running a hand through her lank, violet hair, Mira let out a bitter, watery laugh. "How? How do you know it hurts, Perry? It... it... the things you get used to, and then - then you have to readjust to it all going away." She clenched her jaw for a moment, hands folded in her lap and blue eyes shimmering with tears she didn't want to let fall. "The sound of him reading the paper, breathing next to me at night... the smell of him burning his toast - I wake up, and turn to tell him he's - he's late getting up again, I see a towel on the floor and go to... sc-scold him, I reach for him when I'm going to... bed..."

Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Perry... but... I h-hope you... never do have to know how... how hard it is."

Nodding without another word, Perry gently rubbed Mira's shoulder. She reached up to give his hand a grateful squeeze in response.

"But... thank you for all you've done," Mira continued, her voice losing the anger and anguish it had carried only moments before - now, her affect was worryingly flat, though Perry knew that her nephew and her neighbors were all looking out for her when he couldn't. "Even with - with everything going so crazy around us, everyone's been so... amazing. I don't think I could've pulled through without all of you..."

"Of course... don't forget that we're all going to be here for you, okay?" he reminded her, getting a nod. "You'll get through this, Mira... we'll be there with you."

Sniffling, Mira drew him into a tight, wordless hug, and he blinked up at the cracked depiction of Sephia, the shadows of drifting snowflakes dancing behind her. Something in his chest constricted, but he pushed it aside after a moment, not wanting to let his own pain distract him from Mira's.

They'd already lost enough - too much. And even if Sephia had indeed turned her back on them, even if things kept getting worse, he wouldn't let Castanet's heart be lost along with everything else - no matter how close it got to breaking.