Notes: No worthwhile comments except this fic will crash and burn and shatter and I love it. This chapter and the next two are kind of a "prologue" and the fic won't be up with the beginning of the manga until the third chapter. Theoretically.
Reminder English is my third language so for typos or shit like that I'd be reaaally happy if you'd tell me.
Read and enjoy.
Summary: [Gruvia] In which Juvia is one of Zeref's demon, Gray never went to where he should have gone and the world is not quite as it should be. And it's an utter, colossal mess.
Warnings: This story may contain the following: some OCs as supporting cast, divergence from the manga, continuous swearing, some violent scenes and some sexual scenes, too. If anything else springs up later on, it will be added here.
Disclaimer: Fairy Tail and everything related to it belongs to Mashima and so on ad so forth.
Demon Girl
The Meeting
Gray Fullbuster wanted to go west―or intended to do so, at least, once upon a time.
When years had passed and he looked back to this particular point of his life, he would wonder about what would have happened if he had gone through with his decision. But, as it was the case, an nine years old travelling alone with just a vague destination in mind was not doable. Even less so when hunger, poverty and nakedness came in a for the most part cold day of winter, all of them coming together and coming hard. He had to change his plans.
Gray had not been happy with the idea.
There were, thankfully, public mission boards in every major city for any wandering mages like him, put together by those people who couldn't afford the high prices of a proper guild's help.
"If you're ever in need of something, use these," Ur had explained to them back when everything was as it should be. She had smiled even when he'd scowled. "They pay might not be the best, but it saves you a lot of problems."
And she'd been right. She always was.
He found a request seemingly made for him, and then smirked when he read the 'free logging and food for as long as it's necessary' scrawled at the bottom of the paper.
"Good," he muttered to himself at the time. "Something less to worry about."
Things, after all, hardly went his way for the most part.
The anxiety came afterwards, when facing the bear-shaped man whose beetle eyes scanned him. Gray felt very, very small then. The man's nose scrunched and Gray shriveled in embarrassment. He should have thought this more throughout―he should have bought clothes, too, before applying for the work. Gray doubted that being half-naked left any good first impressions.
"Ye sure, lad?" the bear-man inquired uncertainly. "Ain't ya a bit…young? Not dat I mind if yer can do the job."
Gray sniffed, feet swinging awkwardly since the chair was a bit too big for him. The mission pamphlet wrinkled between his fingers.
"Yeah, sure. I can do it," he retorted and then glared at him to show that, no, he was in no way too young. "Although I don't what's the problem―you say that there's something that's holding you back in the ice-mines, but why couldn't you dig it out by yourself―"
The man grunted. "It's…" He shook his head. "Y'll see. I hope yer prepared for it, though."
Gray frowned.
"Uh, okay. Whatever." He shrugged. He got this. "Anyway. Can we start tomorrow though? I―I've been travelin' all day and I'm tired and... So―can I?"
ooOOooOOoo
Daffodil Town's mines hollowed out deep into the earth, tunnel after tunnel extending without an end. Some people scattered along, picking and carrying the chunks of ice out of the cave. Gray watched as he followed Gustav, the giant, hairy man, down the zigzagging path of the mines. There was something electrifying, behind the cold and the noise of breaking frost, and it floored the air with a sensation that prickled his skin.
Gray stopped walking, touched the ice and gasped in recognition.
"It's magic ice," he mumbled in awe.
"Aye. Our mines're unique in dat. Impressive, eh?" said Gustav with a wink. "We're reachin' the place. Just 'round the corner."
Gray nodded, his movements stiff as he approached his first big job. Briefly, he glanced down to check that all his clothes were in place instead of dropped somewhere behind them. They weren't. Which was good. He could do this, he thought. He could even do a much better job than anyone would expect of him.
Of course he could.
When Gray looked up, however, he found Gustav gazing down on him with an odd expression―amused as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards. Gray scowled not liking it, and glowered.
"What?"
"Nothin'," Gustav mused. He stroked his beard. "The doc's waitin' fer us in there. Yer ready?"
"Yeah," said Gray, firmly.
The older man bobbed his head and patted him on the back.
"Good." Then, they stepped forward.
The little chamber in the heart of the mountain got colder, in a sense that didn't quite fit for this kind of cold was only found in the middle of blizzards you were never supposed to come out of, and there was something, a black blurry encased in ice, further on.
As they got closer, Gray discovered that it was a she of his age what was captive of the frost and cold, and that she was very much naked, too.
And Gray might have blushed at that, the girl being cute with her blue hair and pretty eyelashes (and naked!), but instead he remembered that she was a very naked girl encased in very magical ice.
Magic ice that, as far as he'd learned and hated, was meant to imprison things that should stay imprisoned.
"No. I'm not doing this," Gray breathed harshly. He scrambled on the floor, lips curling into a sneer as his body went taut. "No, no, no. This is not good! Not doing this! I-I can't… I—!"
"Kiddo! Keep it together!" Gustav urged.
"No, I— You can't—it's magic ice, it's not good. My master—she did—and—"
"Boy, look at me."
"W-what." Gray was dimly aware that it had been a new voice. He could make the face of an old woman in front of him, but his head was dizzy and nothing did much sense.
He could only see Ur dying and smiling, and Deliora going down with her, and—
He smelled an aroma, sensed a hand rubbing his back and before long the world focused once again. Two fretting faces were watching him. Gustav and, probably, the doctor, Gray thought. Not Ur; not Deliora.
"Breathe, child, I don't feel like takin' care of an anxiety attack," the woman soothed. "Better?"
Gray did as told. He breathed in, even though his muscles ached and his eyes stung with unshed tears. He looked up to face Gustav with his worried face.
He breathed out.
"Are you… are you sure about this?" he managed to spew. "About getting that out of there?"
The two adults shared a look that made Gray squirm.
"What do you mean, boy?" the doctor asked.
"Nothing," Gray gritted, a warning as glaring as the sun, "that comes out from ice―worse, magic ice— is bound to be good. It's supposed to stay that way."
It was such an obvious thing to point out, too. They really should not free that thing. Ever.
But―
Gustav sighed.
"We need this, kid," he said.
ooOOooOOoo
"Good, boy, keep up," Evelina, the doctor, praised. "Continue unfreezing like this and soak her with hot water. I'm goin' for my medical kit now."
"Yes, ma'am," Gray said.
Evelina smirked, patted him and left. Gray huffed. He was hungry and tired and he'd had been holed up in the mines for so long, thawing an ice almost impossible to thaw even with magic, that it had to be night. Yet, he didn't understand why he was doing this.
His warnings and stories had fallen in deaf ears. It was the right thing to do, he had been told with a sympathetic look, to save the girl and wake her up and give her a chance to prove herself. The human thing, they said, regardless of what could happen if otherwise.
Gray scoffed at that, his stomach lurching at the idea, decided he wouldn't allow any of it and then almost screamed when a hand grabbed his own.
The frozen girl, with her wild azure locks and pretty long lashes, had awoken. She also had coal-like eyes and a snarl in her mouth and Gray noted that what stood before his bare eyes was not just the sudden picture of a girl of his age who pierced a defiant stare in his direction, but the possible demon he knew she could be.
The girl gulped, frightened and tired, and croaked, "Who are you?"
Then she fainted again.
"What," Gray hissed after recovering from the shock, still trembling and voice cracking, "was that."
ooOOooOOoo
"What are you?" Gray asked three days after the villagers took her in. He had been keeping a watch over her. "Don't lie. I know you aren't normal― as a human, which I bet you are not. No one ends up imprisoned like you did if they didn't do something. Because—because…" He sniffled while glowering at the bed-ridden girl who was intently watching him and finally said, "So, what are you?"
She didn't flinch, nor move, nor defend herself. It didn't dwell well with him, her made-up serenity grating on his nerves, much less when the smell of someone who had been sleeping for days stank and the sounds from the doctor at the other side of the wooden door clattered.
The downpour that followed rattled against the window with a sonorous tap-tap.
She smiled at last, a stiff, acerbic smile, and said, "Juvia doesn't know what mister's talking about."
Gray snorted crudely.
"Of course you don't."
ooOOooOOoo
"Boy, don't worry so much," Gustav prodded as Gray stabbed some vegetables around the plate. He didn't like vegetables—nasty things. "Not like I mind havin' ye around ―yer a big help, actually― but she don't look like trouble to me."
Gray frowned at the pork, shook his head and glanced through the window to the doctor's house on the other side. "I'm eight and you're big and strong and still I could beat you up 'coz I can summon ice swords at will."
Gustav went stock-still with the pint on hand. "Point taken," he conceded. "Although I doubt yer winnin' against me, kid."
Gray pouted and stabbed some more.
ooOOooOOoo
She was combing her hair while watching him and he watched her in turn, silently aggressive. For the last week it had been like that—a battle of glares. And, sometimes, even though he didn't want to, she would spark a conversation.
"Mister's always here. With Juvia," she commented, airily. "But Juvia doesn't know what your name is yet."
"And?" Gray sighed.
"And Juvia'd like to know," the girl went on. "After all, she only knows you and Evelina-sama. Juvia thinks it's only proper."
Gray stared, for the first time his stoic expression crumbling down in confusion. "Evelina-sama?"
"Hmm." She smiled. "Doctor-sama's name. She forced Juvia to call her by name but Juvia still wanted to be polite."
Gray huffed, the smell of medicinal herbs aggravating and her big eyes ―still too dark and too harsh― haunting him. He inhaled, aversion settling at the pit of his stomach.
"If you say so."
The girl squared her shoulders and shyly extended a welcoming hand.
"Juvia Lockser."
Gray squinted at the hand.
"Already guessed that. You say it, like, all the time."
The arm fell.
"Why does mister distrust Juvia so much?" she asked, eyebrows knotting together.
" 'Coz I know what demons are made of."
Juvia Lockser tilted her head, hands clasping together on her lap. Not for the first time Gray noticed how her hair bounced each time she bobbed and how her skin glistered pale―too white and too smooth to be considered ordinary― and how her lips curled down and how there was this little wrinkle forming just between her dark eyes.
It was like a dream; her and her attitude and how she carried herself―a nightmare, actually, Gray thought, not a dream. It fitted her.
"But Juvia isn't a demon," she said, finally.
He frowned at her. She puckered.
"I dunno that."
It didn't help his mood that it started to rain again.
ooOOooOOoo
The smoke cleared out, ashes dirtying the lounge where once there was furniture, and the water stream subsided until it disappeared. The fire was gone. Gray panted, an ice-shield in his hands. He glared at the girl of pretty wet hair and wet dress.
"You!" he began, except he was cut out when the old doctor called from behind him, "Juvia, was this your doing?" she asked. "Was that water magic?"
The cursed girl looked up, skin white as paper, then down to her hands and hid them behind herself.
"…yes," she mumbled after awhile. "Juvia's sorry! Juvia's sorry for soaking Evelina-sama's home and not telling a-about—! But Juvia thought it'd be best if she put out the fire quickly and―"
"No, it's okay." Evelina reassured with a gentleness Gray had rarely seen in her. "It's my fault for not payin' attention to the food in the first place. You did good."
Gray bristled. Juvia smiled with wide, amazed eyes.
"Juvia's glad."
This couldn't be.
It didn't make sense―the weird girl and her weird magic and the weird setting.
Did demons even use magic? Gray wondered and shook his head, because, no, they did not.
He had heard stories of people who had wings and claws and face brought from the underworld that passed as demons in the north and could use the occasional low-level caster magic. But those weren't no more than another race, he was sure of, so unlike Zeref's true demons, monsters for destruction and pillaging.
He recalled Deliora, with all his brute force and destructive powers, and remembered how his attacks had looked like magic―raw and feral and capable of taking away much more than what it gave. But it had only looked like. There had been something fundamentally wrong with Deliora's magic: something different, something darker, something hateful, and so very, very old that―
"Well, I'll have to call the carpenter now to help us sort this out," Evelina said. She was about to cross the door when she turned around and grinned. "Thank you. To both of you."
Gray watched her go, his own ice melting away, before a snarl crossed his lips and he locked eyes with the strange girl that seemed more withdrawn that he had ever her seen be. She seemed afraid. His throat dried.
There was something nagging him at the back of his mind, something important, and his chest constricted.
"You can…" He paused. "You can use magic?"
There was a beat of silence. She sighed, sniffled and curled a finger around a lock of blue hair, shrugging.
"Yes. Juvia can. Kind of." She pointed his shield. "Like you."
Gray pressed.
"Since when?"
"Always," Juvia answered right back. She even dared to pull an annoyed expression. "Those are some silly questions."
"Excuse me for not knowing ," he scoffed as his lips twisted downwards. "You coulda say so, y'know. About your magic."
She shrugged.
"There wasn't a reason to. Juvia didn't think it was important."
"We'd have avoided a surprise of suddenly seeing water coming out of the blue and wondering what the heck's wrong in this place."
Juvia shrugged again.
Gray scowled.
It truly didn't make sense, but it did, at the same time. Her magic, or what she called magic, had been fleeting, but natural with the intangible force and rush of strength he was so familiar with. She was frightened, too, however, and Gray wondered and wondered and wondered why if there truly was nothing to be afraid of.
So he watched her, watched how she hunched and watched how she fidgeted. Watched how she flinched when the smell of fresh damp wood flooded their nose, the humidity adhered to their skin and thunder echoed in the distance. It was about to rain. And he watched as her eyebrows quirked and eyes darkened with gloom, and he watched the window as it started to rain.
When he looked back at her, she avoided his gaze.
ooOOooOOoo
Gray was handed with the task of teaching Juvia the ropes, as Gustav put it. 'If you wanna eat an' sleep in our homes,' he had said as well, 'ye better work. And fer that yer hafta teach her'.
He hated it before it'd started.
"Not like that," Gray sneered with the belt already half-undone and jacket long thrown out. "You gotta hold them from below, like this, take'em out carefully so they don't break and then―"
The block of ice fell to the floor, leaving in its wake a million of tiny shards that miraculously didn't cut them, and, as his cheeks heated, the girl contained a giggle next to him.
"Ugh," Gray groaned, glaring at the mess and then at the girl. "Not a word."
Her smirk widened.
"But Juvia didn't say a thing," Juvia said.
His glare narrowed.
"Smartass," he muttered low enough not to be heard. "Anyway. You get it, yes? You hold it carefully, carry it and put it in the mine cars."
Juvia nodded at the same time she snuggled deeper into the borrowed coat. She didn't move after that, instead staying put and observing the ice-walls that expanded into long corridors.
"What?" Gray asked.
"Juvia doesn't understand," she started slowly, "why are we―they, Juvia supposes―mining ice of all things. There's plenty outside here."
"It's magic ice," he deadpanned.
"Juvia knows, but why?"
Gray considered her question, considered her intense eyes too, and sighed.
"This thing is to create lacrimas. You melt the ice and then soak other objects or something. Dunno," he answered with shagged shoulders and begrudgingly continued after her confused look. "Tsk. Gustav said that a three-quarter of the lacrimas of Fiore come from here, Daffodil Town, while the rest is imported, I think, so it's kinda very important since there's no other place like this in Fiore."
"Uh-uh," Juvia acknowledged. Then, after a long pause, spoke again, "What's a lacrima?"
He frowned. "How don't you know what a―wait. How long were you there? In the ice."
She took a pensive pose, index finger on her lower-lip and all. She smiled uncertainly.
"Juvia doesn't know about lacrimas, so that long."
Gray rolled his eyes. "That explains a lot."
Juvia hummed noncommittally. Gray tapped his foot against the floor.
It was hard, he thought, not to be curious now. It had been hard then, with her blue hair and dark eyes and the endless stream of thoughts about demons; but now, when she looked so small, so human and so out of place, it was downright impossible. It made him grit his teeth and berate his mind. He shouldn't allow this.
He really, really shouldn't, he knew.
It was too late now, he also knew.
So. Gray waited. He was not very good at it, but he still waited.
"There were dragons in some short of war," Juvia began when enough time had passed for the silence to become awkward. "Back then when Juvia lived, she means. Something about humans and two sides. It's not like Juvia remembers much, her memories are blurry." She frowned and looked at him with a plea. "Evelina-sama told Juvia there aren't as many dragons nowadays."
The history classes of back when his parents were alive and Ur's nightly lesson surged forward.
"The Dragon Civil War." Gray whistled. "That's a long time ago."
Juvia opened her mouth, closed it again and then nervously played with her hands.
"That much?"
"Yeah." He nodded and Juvia winced. "Four hundred years or so."
"That's scary," she said, her gaze downcast. "Juvia doesn't feel like the time's passed at all."
Gray made a sound of agreement, his teeth biting down on his lip. Some part of him, the one Ur constantly admonished as the most selfish side, told him not to care. She was a monster and it was none of his concern. Watching her, though, so disheartened and sorrowful, she looked anything but. He couldn't keep up with the indifference he had showed her until now.
He just couldn't.
And it hit him then, with a kind of surprising awareness, that he was feeling sympathy for her. The one he couldn't shush and silence because he already knew exactly how it felt when your whole life changed drastically in one night.
It numbed him.
And, apparently, it made him stupid, too.
"I'll teach you what lacrimas are," he babbled, pointedly not looking at her. He'd regret it, later; not now. "I'll show all you wanna know. What you've missed and all that. I'll show you it all."
She looked at him all-hopeful and his heart might have skipped a beat.
"Really?"
"Really." Then, added, "I promise. But first we gotta work."
Juvia gifted him with one of the brightest smiles he had ever seen that, in turn, made him want to smile.
He didn't smile, though. Really. He didn't.
ooOOooOOoo
The kids of the town, for some reason, loved her. They must have considered her a new toy to play with, the parents all too happy to get rid of the children from their care, and Gray bitterly judged the villagers as naïve fools for letting that happen. They still weren't listening to him.
Nonetheless, it didn't stop him from keeping a close eye on the bunch of midgets and Juvia as they played in the square of the village more times than he cared to admit.
"Noooo, Juvia," giggled the children, their four years old squeaky voice screeching, "that's not how a train works!"
"They do choo-choo sound and are like a worm! But made of metal!" another girl said. "And with smoke."
"Juvia understands," Juvia eagerly answered. "Trains are for traveling long distances, too, right? That's extremely handy."
"Yes!" all of the kids yelped at unison. "They're awesome. I rided one two weeks ago with momma!" one of the boys said.
"Show-off," Gray snorted through white teeth. Juvia kneeled his leg.
"Juvia's curious. How do they look like?" she continued without a beat. "Anna said it's like a worm, uh."
The water appeared from thin air before all the young, prying eyes. First, a shapeless blob before it transformed into a long, cylindrical figure between her dainty hands. The midgets 'ohhh'ed, jaws slack and their tiny bodies shifted closer to the show.
"Pretty magic!"
"That's so cool."
"Now, now," hurried one at the back row, "they got big wheels!"
"And chimney at the front!"
"And lots of wagons!"
Juvia attempted to keep up with the new firing details, her water morphing as the descriptions got more specific. The kids closed the space into a thick circle around her until the figure might have taken a definite form.
Might, because, honestly, the final product resembled anything except for a train.
"Well," Gray drawled, his lips twisting, "ain't that beautiful. Worthy of a museum."
"Then do it yourself, meanie," called a blonde next to Juvia.
Gray scoffed, slightly aware that his shirt was missing, before he stood up with all the attention drawn to him. He could spot the impatient, rapt enthusiasm coming from the midgets around him, the secret smile plastered on Juvia, and, it occurred to him, he might have been played to showcase his ice powers.
That was a deflating notion, though, and wisely decided to believe he was more conscious than six years olds.
With a last shrug of his shoulder, the image came easily to the front of his mind. The fluent movements of his fist clashing created a chill in the air and frost spread from his fingers until a miniature, exact replica of a train appeared to everyone's amazement.
There were squeals and shouts, the kids holding the new toy with reverence. "That was so awesome!"
Gray smirked at the praises, the only remaining seat in the bundle of dwarves next to a smiling Juvia, which, coincidentally, gave him the option of poking her.
"See," he mocked. "Way better than your monster."
She blushed. Gray laughed at her offended expression. His smirk only widened as he watched her huffing, the children around them in their own world.
"It's not that funny," she reprimanded.
"But it was," he answered, haughty. "Have you given it a good look? Thing looks like one of those modern art thingies that seem to have been stepped on. Very ugly."
She pouted.
He laughed harder.
ooOOooOOoo
The bell chimed as the door closed behind him, the warm interior of the improvised pharmacy run by the town's doctor greeting him. The familiar lines of medicament and plants blended with the wood furnishings, the counter painstakingly cleaned and Gray came face to face with the girl he knew all too well but didn't expect at the other side.
Gray stepped back before stepping forward. And smirked.
"Doc's sick?"
Juvia waved, usual dreamy smile plastered as she balanced herself on the chair. "Evelina-sama went to the neighboring town. Problems with a flu case," she explained brightly. "Which means Juvia'll be the one at your service today!"
Gray grumbled, his eyes narrowing as he took in the possibility of coming back later. Or tomorrow. He didn't trust Juvia had the credentials to work as an apothecary.
Yet again, he shouldn't have been working in the mines either.
"Gustav wants something for the stomach," he said at last, hands deep in the pocket of his new jacket. "He's said it's probably for something on the food."
"Aha! Juvia understands." She took out a piece of paper, skipped through it until she found whatever she wanted and hopped to one of the shelves, seizing one of the boxes there. "Here it is! Cook the roots and then eat them. Going by Evelina-sama's notes, it should be enough to heal it."
"Got it." Gray nodded. Then, he read the envelopment, looked up to find a friendly face and stuttered, "But isn't this a dose for two?"
Her eyes wrinkled.
"Yes," Juvia answered."Juvia thought since both Gustav-san and Gray-san, possibly, had the same meal, it'd best to prevent."
Gray gawked. "Oh." Then flushed red. "Uh, thanks. That's…thanks."
"Gray-kun's welcome."
It was uncomfortable, for him at least, when her smile broadened. The clinging sound of exchanging jewels didn't ease anything, and, by the time he should have left the store, Gray could do nothing more than gaze at the package of dandelions in his hands.
Something inside him stirred, changed and settled the forever.
His sigh was long and shaky before he blurted out, "Name's Gray Fullbuster."
She blinked, her face blank.
"Juvia already knew that."
Gray scoffed.
"Duh, yes, of course," he stammered. "You gotta be deaf not to catch it from others. But it's not the same, I've never―actually, y'know, correctly introduced myself. Till now. So. There."
He extended his hand awkwardly.
"I might've been wrong with you. And maybe, possibly, acted like an arse," he prowled on. "And I'm—I'm kinda sorry for that. Or something. I don't know."
The awkward situation got worse the longer Juvia took to answer, his nerves standing on end. He readied to sprint out of the store with a sniff and a grumble, his arms already falling out of reach, when she muffled a squeal with wide, starry eyes.
Juvia Lockser took Gray Fullbuster's hand with both of hers and held onto it with strength that made him blush.
"Yes," she said with a smile that was too bright. "Juvia hopes we can be great friends, Gray-san. Juvia really hopes so."
Gray groaned, the heat ascending to his face, and shook her off.
"Hey," he grunted, still flushed. "Don't push it. I just apologized. I'm not promising anything here."
"If Gray-san says so." She snickered. "And, Gray-san, you're missing your pants."
ooOOooOOoo
She bumped against him, the already small space between the containers reduced alarmingly. The loud counting at the other side of the street halted, making it too late to fix the situation, and Gray swore. Juvia quieted a chuckle.
"This is my hiding place," Gray grounded. "Get your own."
"It's big enough for both of us."
"I barely fit here!" he snarled. "If that brat finds us is totally your fault. You know what. If Ian finds us I'm so taking you down before he reaches me."
"So mean," Juvia tutted. "Juvia thought we were friends. And it's not Ian; the one counting now is Lian."
Laughter burst out some feet away from them, followed by an indignant yelp, and both of them watched as the first victim fell.
"They're twins, who can tell the difference?" Gray whispered back once Lian, or whoever the boy was, walked off from their zone. "And there's no friendship in the battlefield, only the survival of the fittest."
Her brow wrinkled, eyes fixated in front of them before flickering back to him.
"Is that a new saying?" At his tilt, she frowned. "That's so shabby. Juvia doesn't like it. Who would believe that?"
Gray snorted. "Lyon does." Although Ur did laugh and mock him once he said that.
Juvia stared. "Who?"
The words already took shape in his mind―an idiot who thinks the world of himself, he's going to say, but he's good to have snowball fights with, so he's isn't that bad—, but the sentence died as soon as it reached the tip of his tongue. He was reminded that it had been long since he thought of Lyon in that way, and much longer since he saw him, after Ur and Deliora and Ice Shell, when Lyon had screamed he hated him and that all was his fault.
Lyon'd had been right too. It made everything all the more painful.
He huffed.
"Someone I knew," Gray gritted, his insides lurching. "None of your business. It doesn't matter."
"Uhm…"
Juvia squirmed at his side, hands nervously toying with the hem of her thick dress. They could hear the kids running around, shouts and blames flying around with some close calls of being discovered.
Gray sniffled, shoulders shagging at the odd atmosphere, and prayed that all got better.
"Sorry," he muttered when the situation became asphyxiating. "I wasn't being fair."
She hummed. He frowned and for a moment pondered if he had crossed the limit of her patience this time around. It was a frightening idea, he discovered, the kind of frightening that made him squirm and search for more words just for her and froze him in the spot. It made him fear the worst.
That's it, until a spark of something passed through her black eyes framed by pretty lashes, and he feared even worse.
"Gray-kun," she purred with a mischievous quality that unnerved him, "think fast."
"What."
The next seconds she pushed him out of their hiding place, not forceful but enough to unbalance him, which landed with him on his butt and a smirking girl sticking her tongue out in his direction.
Gray stared.
"Found Gray!" Lian screamed.
He gasped.
"That's cheating!"
Juvia laughed, then, and got caught too.
ooOOooOOoo
Gustav exploded into a fit of laughter, deep and howling, and Gray might have thought that the man had one too many of the beers he liked to drink after every dinner. He had the leftover foam to back up his deduction in his beard, at the very least.
"Why are you laughing?" asked Gray, suspicious. "I just said we're going to the mountain. The kids want to and Juvia supports the idea."
Gustav let out a grave breath, wiping out the imaginary tears before smashing the glass besides the empty plate of their meal.
"Just three months ago, lad," he began impishly, "ye were still all ove' place mumblin' about demons and how dat girl was one."
Gray blushed.
"It's not like that," he mumbled. "And I haven't completely discarded that she's a demon!"
"Sure you do, kiddo," said Gustav, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "S'kay. Whateve' ye say. Have a good time and don't go near the forest. Wolfs an' bears're common around this time."
ooOOooOOoo
It just happened in the same way mountains just crumbled down.
They were hiking close enough from the town that they still could see it, but far enough for wild animals to attack, which was what happened, exactly, when they midgets were happy and thrilled before everything went to hell.
The rest had been a blur―something about him summoning his magic, a scream from one of the boys where he could not reach and then…
Gray still could sense the humidity in the air, although the wild beasts drowned to death at her side were more ominous than the electrified feeling that had remained after her outburst. The screams from the kids, now far away from them and their games, added to the dread pooling at the pit of his stomach, too.
The scales, though, cobalt and aquamarine and light greens and all so very pretty, were the sole focus of his attention; and for the life of him Gray couldn't prey his eyes from them.
It was staggering how those kaleidoscopes of blue embraced her legs and arms, even her face to an extent, as if they belonged there. They made her a monster, of all things, and it downed to him, with a clarity he had seemingly lacked for a while, that those scales made her what she actually was and not the ten years old human she had tried to look like.
And he watched how she didn't move or look at him or say a thing―and he didn't know what to do just then.
"You're a demon," was the first thing coming out from his mouth. "I was right."
She―Juvia, he reminded himself with an urge he couldn't quite place― flinched, but didn't say a word yet. She didn't even try to defend from what was happening.
"I was right when I helped the villagers freeing you. I was right when I warned them that that kind of ice prison for an ordinary girl wasn't normal," Gray spouted. "I was right when I didn't believe you even though you kept insisting you were as any other and when I accused you and when I decided to trust you."
Juvia blinked, even that being closer to reptilians than humans, and with a slow twitch her lips formed a poignant smile. He frowned. Why was she smiling? Why was she covered in unnatural blues and why did she have her hands webbed?
Why was this happening, now of all time, and with her of all people? Only her?
His breath hitched. There were fins pronouncing along her forearm, the same color of her cerulean hair, as well as where her ears should have been. Gills, too, just in the crook of her throat and shoulders
The meaning of it all finally downed and it shook him to the core.
"You are a demon," he breathed out. "I was right."
Still, discovering she was a monster, why did he only feel like crying?
"Yes," she said with a low, broken voice, and it weirded him out as much as her new form did. "Juvia's sorry."
Her words hung heavy while Gray still kept watching, mildly fascinated and mildly aghast, how her scales retreated, leaving the girl he had known behind.
It was― all this, it was so, so―
His face contorted into something miserable.
He might have started crying. Juvia might have, too.
"We gotta go back," Gray said after a long, awkward silence. He sounded a mile away from there and then, and his sight blurred. "Lets the kids hurt themselves now."
Juvia only started walking.
ooOOooOOoo
Her sobs were loud and snotty and heartbreaking, and Gray felt his heart throb for the girl that had come to become part of his life.
They had been quiet for the most part, some unspoken agreement weighting them down to not speak, or do, absolutely anything until they reached home. Or never. Never would have been the ideal.
But that silence cracked, her tears and sobs rupturing the air, for fear or sadness or something entirely different Gray didn't know or wished to, and it took all his might to keep on walking. Caught between reacting now or later, he decided on the cowardly option and chose the latter.
It didn't last, however, because Juvia was still Juvia and Gray was still Gray, and, demon or girl, she was still something to him—something sad and ugly and beautiful all in one.
"C'mon, don't stall. It's only gonna get worse if you put it off," he mumbled, brow furrowed and lips curled down.
Her breath quivered, hands whipping out the tears from her red cheeks while she stood up in wobbly legs.
"Juvia knows. She's sorry about―this," the and about what happened back there and everything else went unsaid.
"Whatever. It's not like you―you… I…" The words died as soon as they poured and Gray came to the sudden, dreadful conclusion that he didn't have anything to say when, in fact, he should have.
"Juvia understands if Gray-kun and Evelina-sama and the others hate her," Juvia said, her dress dirty and face stained, and Gray, for whatever reason, didn't like that. "Juvia only wants to say she's sorry. Juvia's sorry. If you want to… to do whatever you want to with her, Juvia understands. But Juvia's really sorry."
His stomach coiled at the hesitation, his mind filling in the missing gaps. Gray didn't want to ponder about that, though, not yet anyway, and buried the thoughts with a huff, his gaze anywhere but on her.
"Yeah. They will probably want to do something 'bout this," he stated, his voice thick. "What made you think you could get away with- with that? I don't understand."
Her smile was a tiny, weak thing. "Juvia thinks she was doing fairly well hiding it."
"You were," Gray affirmed with the faintest humor even as forceful as it was. "Even I's fooled and I was the most paranoid one."
She snorted. He went very still and watched her watch him.
"Gray-kun's taking this better than Juvia'd expected," she said quietly.
"I am. Yeah. I don't know why," he said. "You're demon and I'm not―I thought I would be but I'm not. I'm not," spat Gray. His scowl darkened. "Why? Why did you pass as a human? Was there any damn reason for that? I want to know! I deserve it, so you better answer!"
The world was a blurry chaos, all sense lost at once, and the only remnant was her face in front of him, contorted into a bewildered expression with wide, pretty eyes. It anchored him.
It was maddening.
Juvia quivered, shrugged and looked somewhere behind him.
"Friends and people," she uttered. "And you were all so kind, and Juvia liked it so she waited, and then it was too late to say anything and― Juvia didn't want to lose that." She said it slowly, between afraid and desperate, and Gray noted her hand searching for his. "Juvia's never had friends. It was nice. She didn't know it was that nice."
"Ah."
Friends.
Friends, she had said. She had wanted friends.
Demons didn't want that. They wanted to destroy and trample and take away as much as they could. Deliora even did that, too, as carelessly as one would swat a fly away. Demons didn't save children from wild animals, neither, and Juvia just did that even if it meant uncovering her secret.
And Juvia was a demon, wasn't she?
Gray swallowed.
Even with his vision going fuzzy, he saw her hand enveloping his.
It was surprisingly warm.
"This is so wrong," he muttered as she squeezed.
"Juvia guesses it is."
Her words and the truth and what he knew once upon a time and what he had discovered―all of it was maddening. It almost drowned him much like the animals' fate behind them, because she was a demon and some part of him hated her like he hated Deliora and every other might-be demons. He hated her with all the intensity and abhorrence there was.
Yet, she was still Juvia. Happy Juvia, who always shrugged off his badmouth and continuously asked about this new world with wide eyes and pestered him to death until he agreed to play hide-and-seek with the others.
That was the only truth he was sure about―and it swelled inside him, thrumming until his heart beat to its sound.
"It doesn't matter," he said, first slow and then firm. "I wouldn't let it, whatever, happen. You're one of Zeref's demon but it doesn't matter. I think. I don't know. Or it doesn't matter much, at least."
She gasped, his hand clutched hers and—and—
And it just was. Gray hoped and prayed to Ur that he was making the right decision for once.
"Really?" Juvia asked in disbelief.
"Really. I promise," Gray said, the words rolling out of his mouth so easily he could almost not believe it. "You're my friend. I chose you as my friend." At her incredulous expression, he reaffirmed it again, "You are. You're still a demon but I already chose. So. I can't let another one― even though you're one." His chest constricted as he noticed her crying again. "Just… just don't do that, what you did back there, again. Please. Please."
It was truly maddening.
But—
"Okay," she said with a voice so tiny and still so hopeful. "Juvia promises."
Then, Juvia smiled, although still watery, the kind that he had seen countless of times, and Gray smiled with her.
He got this.