A/N: I have no life and I hate global warming. Ugh, it's gotten so hot here. Also, I swear this is the last of my gruvia angst. I really need more of that. I'm always seeing Juvia getting amnesia and Gray takes the blame, so this time, I swapped and we all know how Juvibabe can be when guilt gnaws at her.
Originally, the idea was for Juvia to play the piano, dedicate it to Gray, and that's it. However, I played with the amnesia idea. Hehe It's because of this why I'm delaying updates for the other fics. ARGH.
I feel like I wrote rubbish. Please be the better judge of me. Also, personal head canon: Juvia came from Teardrop Island. (I've used that a lot)
P.S. Follow me on 8tracks for the playlist, it's entitled 'sirens and pianos' (SOON)
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot.
She hated the piano, hated the very existence of it.
With every fiber of her being, it was centered on hating the organ instrument.
Everything about it, there is to it, she hated it.
For it brought with it memories, bad ones – terrible ones she wished she could forget. Still, as much as she hated it, she would admit that she loved the melody, stirring light and life. Yes, there were good times – she has to admit – but the bad ones always dominated, corrupting the good memories.
She grew up playing it, mastered it before she was a teenager. Everyone called her a prodigy, praised her left and right. Growing up, the piano was there for every significant event in her life.
Every note she hit felt like rain on a summer day, a blessing, joy, life despite its adversity.
Once upon a time, playing the piano was her life; it became a core to her being. Once upon a time, the piano was the sources of happiness.
But that was then, and this is now.
Now, she hated the piano.
Now, every note she hit was like thunder on beautiful day.
Now, it was nothing but a bane to her being.
And there was one now, right in front of her.
It stood in the middle of the stage, a full sized grand piano. It was white, made possibly of the finest wood, or marble. Pearl, maybe?
Still, the sight of it taunted her, tugging at her being.
Her hands balled into a fist, steeling her shaking hands. Hands that were just itching to touch it.
It didn't help that she worked in a cafe that played live music. Every weekend musicians filled the stage and sing their hearts out. Sometimes they used the piano, sometimes they didn't. And with their presence, it was a symphony. Every time they played, they brought life to café. She almost envied them for it.
When they did chose to play the piano – as an accompaniment or plain use it, she'd lose herself to the melody and the memories come rushing in, as if on rewind.
She always chose the closing shift, because she spent most of her mornings reading, writing, painting, baking– anything to keep herself busy. It was almost torture, sweet torture.
At the end of the day, she had to ask herself why she chose the job in the first place.
At the end of the day, she always finds herself looking at it, staring at it from across the room.
There were times when she'd stare for hours, like it was calling her, just begging for her to play it. During work hours, it was the same; her eyes would automatically turn to it. And then, her co-worker would call her, and she'd turn the lights off, basking the room in darkness.
While the job paid well, and her co-workers were good people, she was closed off about herself – always so timid, tightlipped, meek and reserved. She wasn't always like this, but it was better this way.
It only meant less attachment. She didn't have many friends here, and that was okay.
That's the problem with opening yourself to people; you get attached, and it'll hurt when you have to part ways.
She hated being alone. But right now, she had no one but herself. She was all she had.
She learned that the hard way.
After all, it's been two years.
One night, while she was clearing out the last of the tables (her co-workers had to go ahead and she didn't mind), her eyes instinctively turned to the piano onstage. Amidst the silence, she swore she could still hear trickling of notes, of laughter and hushed voices.
It felt like hours, just standing there.
While both her mind and heart said no, her body moved on its own.
Her fingers trailed along its smooth white surface, feeling its coolness against her touch. It was definitely wood, she thought.
The corners of her mouth turned slightly, melancholy in her eyes.
How many talented people have touched it? How many melodies were played? Too many, yet she wished she could be a part of them. Her heart was yearning.
Releasing a shaky breath, she looked around – even though she was the only one around, before sitting on the bench, opening the lid with another shaky breathe.
Her eyes then found the keys, fingers itching as always. Too many memories, too many songs. It all came like a blur.
Absentmindedly, her fingers moved on its own, producing a melody. Familiarization washed over her when the tune became clear.
This song, she knew it too well.
It was her first heartbreak song.
Each note rippled, commanding.
When she was done, tears had leaked from her eyes. Her body felt numb, she was shaking all over. Horrified, she retrieved her fingers from the piano, as if it burned her.
She knew it was a bad idea.
Then, someone applauded her. She had an audience.
"That was beautiful." She glanced up; breathe hitching in her throat, wishing she didn't. "Jar of Hearts, wasn't it?"
Because standing there, was the bane of her existence – when it was actually the other way around, watching her on stage with a grin. There he was, the man she was running away from. There he was, the man she ruined.
She forgot how to breathe, tears streaming faster than before, alarming the man.
Before he could say a word, she was already running out of the cafe.
Later that night, she lay in her tub, hugging her knees.
Warm bubbles surrounded her, the sweet aroma soothing. A long bath always did calm her nerves. But it never could fix the void inside her.
Moving her arms against the water, she watched the bubbles colliding with the other – seeing the colors, listened to the soft slosh, momentarily amused. Releasing a deep breathe, she leaned against the tiled wall behind her, closing her eyes for a moment.
Water was a cleansing element. If only it could wash away her sins.
Out her window, she could see the full moon. A cloud passed, covering the moon for a while.
She recalled a Japanese saying: when the cloud covers the moon, somewhere, a girl is crying.
She let her tears fall, her teeth sinking into her lower lip.
She was always crying, she was tired of being the one who always cried.
It hurt to see him again, to see those familiar eyes that haunted her for many nights.
The last time she saw him, he was lying in a hospital bed, comatose, because of her. She left before he woke up.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" a girl cried, as the first summer rain fell that night.
"Don't say you're sorry, this is all your fault! All your fault!"
She woke up with a start, drenched in sweat and her heart pounding. She could still feel the patter of rain, the mixed scent of smoke and blood. Swallowing deep breathes of air; she brought her knees to her chest, closing her eyes as she tried to calm herself.
It was always like this, it's always been like this.
And yet, she's still not used to it.
Sleep had become extremely difficult for her.
It was impossible to get a good night's rest without the nightmare waking her in the middle of the night. And they were always the same, the crash, his body, the smell of smoke and blood, his blood on her hands, and his voice, his angry eyes, blaming her – reminding her that it was all her fault.
After she'd wake up, she'd have a terrible time going back to sleep. She was afraid to go back to sleep, to see it all again. The longest rest she's had is five hours; it was a miracle she was able to get by with lack of sleep.
Such was the reason for her closing shifts.
She invested her waking hours reading, she has a quite a collection of books. Sometimes, she'd paint – abstract paintings, because they hid emotion and meaning best. Or sometimes, she'd be writing – confessing to scraps of paper.
I'm sorry for everything I've done, she wrote. There are so many things I wanted to do to make up for it, but I'll settle for telling you first how sorry I am. Next time, I promise you won't ever see me again.
When she was done, she'd fold it into a paper crane and hang it with the others. Every day, the same confession for the same man. And yet so many of them – unconfessed and untold, she could never send them. Not that she doesn't have the heart to, but she knew it would be all too late.
Baking, she enjoyed, because she loved baking. Somedays, when she baked a little too much – which was a lot, she'd sell them at the café for a little extra income.
Trivial acts, she hoped, to make her forget.
But she never could. She wore her pain and regret on her sleeves every single day.
As much as she can, she worked. Her only rest day was Sunday, because it was the only time the café was closed.
Today just happened to be Sunday.
Lying on her side, she watched the light entering her room. Outside, she could faintly heart the gears of a bike, as the young boy delivered newspaper. Somewhere, the old lady has just finished her fresh batch of bread. On the docks, boats were nicely tucked on their spots.
It was a brand new day.
Turning on her back, she exhaled. Not long later, she sat on her bed, back against the headboard.
Her eyes roamed at her small apartment, wondering what she'll do today. An unfinished painting stood by its palette, a clash of blue and gray. She didn't feel like finishing it. Some days, she'd go out to paint the sea, the park, anything, and she'd sell them at a good price. But she didn't feel like it today. There was a little notebook by her kitchen, where a new recipe had been nicely tucked in. But she didn't feel like it either.
Lazily getting out of her bed, she went to fix herself a little meal. She came to a decision. She was going to buy more books, regardless of the clutter in her living room.
Teardrop Island was a tiny land from the west coast, a beautiful land. It takes one whole day just to get around. The island had an interesting geography, hence, the interesting architecture. It earned its name from the shape of the island, and from legends of sea nymphs that once dwelled. The island never ceased to amaze her, with all its wonders.
Arriving at the bookstore, she greeted the woman behind the counter with a soft smile.
The two exchanged pleasantries before the older woman told her that a new set of books just came in, from mainland. Immediately, Juvia's spirits lifted.
Reaching the bookshelf, she browsed through – looking at its cover, and if appealed to her, she'd read its summary before deciding to buy it. It took a while before she settled with some classics, which has been her favorite lately.
"Excuse me."
A voice came, when she was paying for her books. She turned, eyes widening at who it was.
"Hi," he says nervously, grinning nonetheless. "you're that girl from-"
Before he could finish, she grabbed her items and ran, not stopping for anything or anyone.
Why was he here?
"Hey Gray, look, it's your creepy girlfriend!"
"She's not my girlfriend!"
"Then what is she?"
"…a nobody."
Friday night came.
Juvia heaved a sigh in relief, pinching on the bridge of her nose as she leaned against the wall. For five days, she's been paranoid. She was scared, that at any moment, she'd run into him again. She didn't want that.
It's been years – two years! She's been doing fine these past few years, why did he have to appear? Of all people, of all times!
"Juvia, pick up order in table 5 please!"
Breaking from her thoughts, she sighs before calling back. "Okay!" Pushing herself away from the wall, she quickly fixes herself, adjusts her apron before heading back to work.
It came as a surprise to her that her customer was him. She stopped cold. Was this some kind of sick joke?
Sensing her presence, he looked up from the menu, unsurprised to see her. "Hello."
Biting her lip, she composed herself quickly before attending to him quickly. She felt his eyes linger on her, as if trying to figure her out, she was avoiding his eyes.
He ordered coffee, black with no sugar. He always did like black coffee, she thought, inwardly smiling.
"Anything else?"
"No, that's all."
"Okay."
She moved robotically, like it was a chore. But she didn't let her guard down, not even for him. Even with her back turned, she could feel his eyes on her. A chill ran through her spine.
Talking the coffee into the tray, she carefully walked back to him, not once letting their eyes meet. He was leaning against his palm, watching her in interest. She should go back to her post, but couldn't.
"I'm Gray, by the way." He says once she's set his coffee, taking her by surprise.
Blinking, she tried a smile. "Juvia." She says in turn, quietly.
"I know," he smiles that smile. "I read your name tag. Also, because I asked for you."
"Y-You asked for me?"
Nodding, his eyes meet with hers. "I wanted to apologize, for when we first met, and for the second time." He laughed without humor, shaking his head. "You must think I'm a creep."
Deciding to lower her defenses, she replied. "No, I'm sorry," she said quietly, dropping her head in shame. "it's just, the song brought back some terrible memories, and you caught me at a bad time."
He nodded taking a sip of his coffee. "Bad break-up?"
She stopped, holding the tray close to her. "You could say that."
"Well, don't let it get you. We all need to experience something before we meet the lucky one, right?"
"R-Right."
"You don't have to act so stiff, you know."
"I'm sorry," she tells him, playing with her fingers. "I-I'm just…socially awkward."
"Yeah, I get that."
Putting down his cup, he studied her face. Blue hair. Small face. Small nose. There was just something about it. And her eyes, they were so sad. It tugged his heart.
"Have we met before?" he asked, missing how she quickly masked her look of surprise.
"No, we haven't."
"Juvia has baked you some bread! I call them Gray bread!"
"Sheesh, you didn't have to bake my face, it'll be weird eating it."
"That's okay, because Juvia has also made Juvi bread!"
"You're so weird."
Since then, he's frequented the café, always arriving on six, and she was always serving him. The manager – a small old man, having sensed the chemistry between them, allowed the two to mingle despite work hours. It was refreshing to see an unguarded version of her, and she looked happy. Not so, but he could see it in her eyes.
She found out that he was in the island to teach at the university. He's grown quite the fame; he was after all, a great architect. He could do it all – paint, sculpt, construct, even design. And his works were fantastic, always sought out.
During the days that he was there, he spent his time with her, goading her to be with him so he can study the island's ruins and architecture.
She hated how easy it was to fall in love with him all over again, how clueless he was to their actual relationship, and hated herself for falling the second time.
Some days, she'd make some grand excuse to avoid him, but he'd managed to see through her lies – like he used to see right through her, or he'd happen upon her. All of which, ended up with hanging out with him.
It was so hard to turn away from him, especially when he was the one reaching out to her; when he was the one who asked if she was free. And still, after two years, she could never say no to him.
She wished, with all her heart, for him to leave. Her heart broke the first time because of him, she couldn't bear the second time.
Then he did the unimaginable, he kissed her.
Two months came by so fast and before she knew it, his lips were pressed against his. And as stupid as she already was, she kissed him back. The kiss felt so right, so perfect, yet at that moment, she knew it was wrong.
She was the first to break away, staring at him with wide eyes. He smiled sadly, caressing her neck, knowing that this was the last time they'd see each other. She was the first to say 'goodbye' before rushing into her apartment, pressing her body against the door, waiting for him to leave. And he did, after a few minutes with heavy footsteps.
Leaning her forehead against the doorframe, she allowed the coldness in the air, the loneliness of the years of her apartment, the second time her heart beat like a drum.
"You're making me fall in love with you all over again."
…and the second time her heart broke.
She allowed her tears to fall as she slid to the ground. There was no point, she was always so weak, she was always left broken.
Fate seemed to pity her, causing him to forget all about her, yet it seemed like sweet irony at the same time. Still, she was thankful. At least it's one problem taken care of.
He didn't even like her to begin with.
"I'm in love with you."
"No you're not."
"But I am!"
"You're not 'in love' with me, this is just infatuation."
"I love you, Gray-sama!"
"…well I don't."
Once upon a time, she used to be ridiculously in love. Ridiculously doesn't even cover it, it was almost obsession.
She'd stalk him everywhere, shower him with gifts and declare her love for him. At one point, she'd scare off anyone who dared to approach him. Multiple times, he turned her down. But she didn't stop.
Despite the rejections, she still clung unto that sliver of hope that he'd return her feelings.
Strangely, his friends were fond of her. What's worse, thy like her for him.
There was a bar where they frequented, where she performed time to time.
So when she wasn't his scary stalker, she was a good friend who was a piano prodigy.
Somedays, when she wasn't in her crazy mode, she was a friend. His good friend. When it was just them together, she felt really special because he confided in her, he trusted her. She, in turn, would return the favor, but gave more of herself; she gave her heart without expecting him to give it back.
And then, it all came crashing down.
"He woke up!" her friend cried from the other line.
Tears prickled in her eyes, tears of joy and relief. "That's good news."
"But…" Lucy added, and by the tone of her voice, she could tell it wasn't good. She braced herself for whatever news she was about to deliver.
"He can't remember you."
She nearly let her phone slip, everything seemed to stop.
A part of her died. Her heart shattered into a million pieces.
Though pained, she found her voice and what little courage she had left. "Please don't tell him about me." Her eyes closed, trying to sound strong.
"Wha-?"
"It's better this way," was her reason, conscience gnawing her. "it's my fault anyway."
"But-"
"Please, just forget about me."
After that call, she didn't tell anyone she was leaving.
Brought by guilt and sadness, she just packed all her things and left – left everything she had, even the friends she loved. Her once long cerulean locks were chopped off, out of sadness. It was another form of punishment for herself.
Somehow she found solace in Teardrop Island. Her grandmother would tell stories of her hometown; of how peaceful it was, of how far it was, and of how it was a quaint little island in the middle of the sea. Now that she was gone, she thought she could see the place for herself.
She disappeared from everyone's life, from his life, for two years.
For two years, she lived with the guilt, with the pain, bringing it all on herself.
For two years, she lived with half a broken heart, while the remaining pieces she left in Magnolia.
For two years, though the guilt ate her for every second of her life, she finally thought she could live with herself.
And he just had to come here.
"I'd like to dedicate this song to my unrequited love," this earned a lot of hoots, she smiled nervously. "it's called 'Love Song'. Umm," fidgeting on spot, she braved a look his way, only to meet a scowl, as always. Her heart dropped. "j-just listen to the lyrics."
This is the last time.
The day he woke up from his coma, the first thing that came to mind was a blue-haired girl in tears. In his stream of unconsciousness, he heard a voice, apologizing. His heart broke at the sound of it. And the last thing he remembered – or felt, while in coma, was the feel of soft hands caressing his cheek. All of this, he swore came from the blue-haired girl. Problem is, he didn't know who she was. She was a blur.
The moment he woke up, his body felt heavy and weak, and all of his idiot friends rejoiced at his awakening.
He couldn't remember the last time he was the center of everyone's attention, yet it felt too overwhelming. It was nice, to feel loved by many.
"What's the last thing you remember?" his doctor asked.
Massaging his head, he recalled as best as he could. "I got into an accident, my car crashed. That's it."
From the corner of his eyes, he caught the look on salmon-haired friend, as if asking for more. But the blonde patted his shoulder, shaking her head at him. Strange. He felt like something was missing, but no one would tell him.
A day after his discharge, his friends threw a little party for him. Per usual, everyone was rowdy as ever.
For the strangest reasons, he felt like something was missing. And then, when they reached the bar, his eyes kept looking at the stage. Something was definitely missing.
Despite the smiles on everyone's faces, he could see underlying sadness in them. He was a master of concealing his feelings, the only ones who could read him were his parents, Erza, Natsu, and–
Feeling his head throb, he massaged at his temples. Why did it feel like he was missing something?
Two years passed by before he knew it.
He found himself at Teardrop Island, where he was invited to be a guest instructor. He was an architect, and a damn good one. By the time he arrived, it was getting late; he managed to get into an inn. Deciding that he wanted to see more of the island's architecture, he decided to go for a walk.
The town, thought small and a bit cramped, was beautiful. It was even more under the moonlight, how much more by day? Above him, millions of stars twinkled, but the moon always shone brighter. For a while, he stared at the moon, admiring the fullness of it. Yet, he couldn't help but think of a void in him.
Two years, and he still can't rid of the feeling that something was definitely missing in his life. It haunted him. It frustrated him that even his friends couldn't tell him, or how his things in his life seemed to be forcibly altered.
He hated not knowing the unknown.
Through the sleepy town, he heard lilting notes. A sad melody.
Something inside him told him to go to it.
So he followed the sound, finding himself outside a café. The curtains were drawn, so he was unable to look in, but he saw light through the front door.
Tentatively, he opened and the melody was clearer. There was a voice, accompanying it, a sweet, melodic voice, like a siren.
And there, playing on stage was a bluenette.
She looked so sad, like the song she was playing. There were tears streaming down her face, but she wasn't aware of it. It looked like she hadn't noticed him, so lost in playing.
He was mesmerized, by her very presence, her skill, and her.
There was just something about her.
"What's your name?"
"J-Juvia Lockser."
"I'm Gray Fullbuster."
She was sure he'd be gone by now. He did say he was in town for just two months.
She was glad he was gone.
But at least she saw him again, one last time.
She wasn't in the slightest hoping for him to like her, lest remember her. It was just a passing, a phase. He was a handsome man, rather enigmatic and nonchalant, but he has charisma and a promising career. There was no way he'd run out of admirers.
With a sigh, he pressed her palms against the bar counter, thoughts flying.
He kissed her. Gray Fullbuster actually kissed her.
Pressing her fingers to her lips, she could still feel the warm press of his soft lips. How she's always dreamed of it to happen, and it did. Only, under different circumstances. But she wouldn't have it any other way. It was the last time she'd ever see him.
"He'll forget all about me," she said aloud with a sad smile. "He has to."
Pulling herself off her thoughts, she pushed herself off the counter to finish up.
Suddenly, the bell rang; she frowned, she was sure she flipped the sign close.
"Why didn't you tell me?" a voice stopped her cold.
For a moment, she forgot how to breathe. Behind her, she could hear his ragged breathe, could feel the urgency. Slowly, and fearfully, she turned to face him.
He was covered in sweat, like he ran a mile, yet his eyes were burning. There was no mistaking the look of frustration, betrayal, anger and sadness, all at once. Lips pressed tightly, she kept her hands to her sides, bracing herself.
"Why didn't you tell me I knew you?"
She thought she could escape him forever, but she couldn't.
Fate always had something else planned.
"Tell me one lie."
"I wish I didn't grow up so fast." She giggled at this, much to his chagrin. "Okay, your turn. Tell me one truth."
"I wish I had never met you."
"Because I didn't want you to remember me." She started, swallowing thickly.
"Are you kidding me?" he growled, making her drop her eyes. "Are you fucking kidding me!?"
Her eyes shut at the volume of his voice, the sharpness.
"You aren't kidding." Gray looks at her in great disbelief, voice softer. She found herself nodding, opening her eyes, which were already filled with tears. "I knew you, you were a friend, yet, you acted like we weren't-"
"Because I didn't want you to remember me! Is it that hard to get that?" Juvia couldn't help yelling in frustration, taking him by surprise. She used the opportunity to speak. "You were in a coma for months, months because of me! Me, that annoying girl who tagged along like a puppy, the lovesick fool who scared off any girl who'd cross your path, the selfish girl who wanted you for herself – all me!" sticking her index finger out, she thrusted it to her chest, while tears continued to stream down. "Me! My fault why you lost months of your life, why you missed events and why you got into that accident that nearly cost your life! I didn't want you to remember Juvia Lockser, that stupid girl who ever thought she'd get a chance with you, only to nearly kill you. That's why I didn't want you to remember me, that's why I didn't want to be a part of your life anymore, that's why just seeing you makes me hate myself all over again!"
She was breathing heavily, having said too much. And her chest hurt, too.
While she was silently crying in front of her, Gray looked lost, terribly lost. He didn't know what to do as he absorbed her words. It was all too much.
"So you thought distancing yourself from your friends would help? By shutting me out, you shut them out, too?"
"Yes."
He swallowed dryly, meeting her eyes. "And would it make you feel better if I left now?"
"Yes, please." She nods, face on her hands. "Please, leave."
Angrily, he walked out, slamming the door in the process.
That was definitely the end of their relationship.
Late at night, she laid on her bed, staring blankly into space.
Second heartbreak. It happened again.
Tears slipped quietly down her face, not that she was even aware than she was crying. Everything was falling apart again, her body felt numb all over, and her heart hurts so much.
She forgot to ask him how he got his memories back. Though, she had a feeling that when he saw her playing the piano must've triggered it all.
A thin veil of light slipped through her dark room, reminding her of the first time she set foot on the island, where she was in the same state. Outside, the moon was full and bright, but was hidden by the clouds.
At least he got what he wanted, she thought. Closure.
Fighting a sob, she bit down her lip, so hard she could almost taste blood. And me gone forever.
As much as she could, she tried to work her hardest to distract herself from her broken heart. That was easier said than done. Because this time, the pain was worse because he knew. He knew, and it tortured her.
She was like a living doll.
Everyone could tell that she was a wreck, given her bloodshot eyes, the bags under her eyes, drastic weight loss and gloomy mood. But they gave her a break; everybody could tell that she was trying.
Two weeks later, she received a letter – an invitation.
The Fairy Tail bar was to celebrate its 400th anniversary, and she was invited.
However conflicted she was, she decided to go. She couldn't decline the invitation; after all, it's been two years.
At first, everyone couldn't believe their eyes – that it was Juvia standing at the door. She thought the silence was deafening, and would last forever had it she not been ambushed by hugs from her friends.
Everyone greeted her with teary eyes, everyone but him. She didn't even expect him to welcome her, but it doesn't mean it didn't hurt any less.
Her best friend and brother-figure, Gajeel Redfox, was especially upset with her, angry that he was the last person to know about her situation. Beside him, his wife – Levy, gave her an apologetic smile for her husband's sake. With a promise that she'll never do it again, she hugged the large man.
When she was called up stage, everyone cheered wildly. It's been a while since she performed.
"I would just like to say how I've missed you all, and that I'm sorry in advance because I'm probably rusty because I haven't been playing for a while." She missed the frown on Gray's face when she said that. "So, here it goes. Happy 400 years, Fairy Tail."
Taking a deep breathe, she steeled her nerves before beginning to play. It surprised everyone that she sang 'Love Song', the last song she performed before she disappeared. But it was the first song that came to mind.
When she wasn't playing, she was catching up with her friends. Being with friends, sharing a good laugh or a joke, she missed this feeling.
Time to time, she would return to the stage and play a few classical pieces that had jovial tunes, at times, she'd take song requests. It had been a long eventful night.
While the merriment went on, she secretly snuck out. As much as she missed them all, she felt like it wasn't her place anymore. She didn't belong there anymore.
'I'm sorry.'
She couldn't remember the last time she walked around Magnolia at night by herself. Oh, wait, she remembered! That silly '413 days' where she gave Gray a scarf. He didn't really take it, did he? Some homeless man must have it. And she was really insensitive to the occasion.
Just the thought of it brought a smile to her face, reminding her of her silly infatuation as Gray would put it. Of course, she was so young then.
So young, so naïve.
Tucking her hands behind her back, she wondered when will she ever move on from him? It might take another two years or more. By then, he might be with someone, someone he really likes, who won't force herself to him. Unlike her.
A laugh came out of her mouth, dry and full of disgust.
So young, so naïve, so foolish.
Maybe this was to be of their relationship, and it was better off this way. She brought him nothing but trouble. So this time, she knew she had to leave.
Pulling her head back, she watched as the clouds lingered around the moon. She had to wonder again, when will she ever move on from him?
She was just crossing the bridge when she felt a presence; she looked up, wishing she didn't.
And there he was, standing in front of her, hands in his pockets, staring blankly at her. She stared back weakly, tiredly.
"Where are you going?"
Right then she realized, she couldn't.
"Home."
He frowned. "This is your home."
She shakes head, too tired to argue. "It's your home, not mine. I don't have the right to stay here." It was then that she noticed the scarf he was wearing, she knew that scarf. So he did keep it.
"Damn it, fuck what I said before."
"I'm just respecting your choice to shut me out."
She wasn't looking at him, and it annoyed him. He hated it. Was she scared of him?
"Why didn't you want me to remember you?"
She was silent for a moment, formulating words in her head. "In a way, it's to punish myself. Also, to give you what you want."
"Give me what I want?" he repeated, brows knitting together.
She nodded, smiling slightly. "To get rid of me."
Right then, he found that smile so wrong. "You're kidding me."
"You always did hate Juvia, from the first time we met." She said with a laugh, which sounded so broken and forced. "Juvia is annoying, creepy and a nuisance. I always embarrassed you, clung myself to you, even stalked you around, and you kept reminding me that you don't like me that way but I always thought that you were denying yourself of what you really felt. And I realized," her voice grew weak "that that was selfish of me." her vision was getting blurry, she didn't want to cry in front of him so she looked up at the starless night sky. "The last time I dedicated that song to you was the prelude of me getting over you. I wanted to talk to you, really talk to you for the last time." Swallowing the lump on her throat, she continued. "But then you got into an accident. And it was all my fault."
Releasing a strangled breathe, she went on. "It was only then that I realized what misfortune I brought to you. And I figured that this is the perfect chance, to give you what you want. And you did. You got to live a happy life, a peaceful life without me in it. One where I'm not there to cause you trouble, or there to scare potential clients because I thought they were my love rivals. And as for me, I'm miles away, exiling myself, living with the guilt and disgust I had built for myself."
"You seriously thought that?" he asked in disbelief, not realizing that he was holding his breathe.
Juvia nodded. "Yes."
He stared at her, long and hard. The beautiful, jubilant woman was reduced to this shell of a woman. She was so broken, beyond words. Emotions rushed through to his chest, from before the accident, when he knew something was missing, to when he knew what was missing all along.
Licking his lips, he spoke with utmost conviction. "Two years is long enough," he hoped she could feel the words he was saying. "forgive yourself. Come home."
Closing her eyes, she shook her head, exasperated. "You still don't understand me. I thought I already told you, this isn't my home. It's yours." Releasing a shaky breathe, she took a step forward. "I really have to go, I have a train to catch-" but he cut her off, blocking her way.
"So that's how it's going to be? You leaving everyone behind because of something you did?" he couldn't help but yell, already at his limit.
"I will, because I bring nothing but misfortune-"
"Are you even hearing yourself, right now!?" he grabbed her shoulders, preventing her from escaping any further.
"Let me go!" she pleaded, tears threatening to fall. "Please!"
"You can't go!"
"I need to-"
"I've forgiven you, isn't that enough?"
"I can't forgive myself!" she yelled, tears already streaming down her face. "Just please, let me-"
He silenced her with a kiss, threading one hand into her hair, while the other held firmly on her arm. And just like that, all form of logic escaped her mind. Her eyes were wide open, while his were closed, as if focusing on the kiss.
The taste of cigarette and alcohol in her mouth, and the smell of it, along with his musk made her dizzy. She could feel her heart slamming against her chest, and when she put a hand to his chest, she felt his heartbeat just as rapid as hers.
When he pulled back, he leaned his forehead against hers, combing his fingers through her hair and running them down her neck. Meeting her eyes, Juvia could see so much emotion, and it spoke volumes to her. Lifting his hand from her arm, he gently wiped away her tears, running his thumb through her cheeks,
"I lost you once because I was damn scared of what I felt for you, and I almost lost you again when you cut yourself from my life after that accident. I am not losing you again. So please, stay for me." At this, she cried openly, overwhelmed by emotions. And Gray didn't look away, only held her tighter.
Just then, the rain started to pour. And he leaned in to kiss her again, passionately, as if to make up for the lost two years. She couldn't help but kiss him back, while the rain washed away her tears, her pain, and his pride.
Maybe that was enough, for two years' worth of pain and guilt to be cleansed off.
It was the first rain of summer, a miracle.
Like them.