Natsu isn't the sentimental type. Nor is he the person to dwell on what-could-have-been's or broken dreams and hopes. He is a man of action, a man of the present. The past is something not to live in, but it is also not something to forget.

Because of this, there are times when he simply remembers. He remembers the fights with Gray, the traumatizing experiences from Erza, the laughs and tears next to his ever faithful sidekick and best friend, Happy, and he remembers the warm feelings of sitting next to Lucy on the train after a long day of destruction, and feeling her fingers through his hair to ease his motion sickness.

And he remembers the pain. The pain that is always threatening to crush him whole—the agonizing ache in his heart that follows him everywhere like a shadow.

Because their gone now. She's gone now.


He's at that age now where your body starts to break down, fall into an endless slumber. It's as if he is a rusting machine, only able to move with massive amounts of effort. His limbs are sore and his body sags. The sparkle in his once bright eyes is gone, and his face is full of wrinkles. His spiky pink hair is faded and washed of color, streaked with gray and white. But despite this, he visits her anyway.

It's become almost a habit of his now, to visit her with a bouquet of roses and a weak smile. It's not the same grin that he'd sported during his brighter days, it's a mere shadow, but it's as much as he can give. He'll sit down in the grass, and talk to her for a while. He'll ask her how she's doing, and he'll murmur incomprehensible, sweet words that drift off into the air.

Pity is not something he wants, but it's what he receives anyway.

Onlookers gaze at him with that sad, sad look in their eyes, and then they turn away, almost as if it breaks their hearts just to see him, an old man talking to a grave. It's funny, isn't it? He knows she can't hear him, but he speaks to her anyway.

Those people he used to call precious friends. Those people he considered family. Where are they now? Some are still with him, just faintly so. There is an invisible barrier that blocks him from their world. It shields him from their pitying eyes and their mislead sympathy.

He is not an idiot, at least not as much as he used to be. He knows the truth, he accepts the truth, yet he ignores it anyway. Why? Simple.

He loved her. He loves her.

So when he's finally leaving this world, when he's finally reached the end of his fairy tale, he whispers a single word that is so quiet it is almost inaudible. It's a small, simple word, with two syllables and four letters. It may not hold any meaning to someone else, but it means the world to him,

"Lucy."

And then he, too, is gone.

Author's Note: Hello, everyone. I'm not too proud with this one, but I'm glad I wrote it anyway. I think it's a little short…. Oh well, thanks for reading!