DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fairy Tail.
A response to Litashe's Writing Contest.
"Hey, did you hear?"
"Yeah, I did. Poor girl."
"And just when she finally worked up the courage to tell him."
"Such a pity. Who knew..."
There's three soft raps on her door, and a weak, "Can I come in?"
"..." Cana lies on her side on her bed, covers thrown over her head. She doesn't move.
There's a soft sigh, followed by a small click as the door is opened and Macao steps in. "You should really consider cleaning up," he says, surveying the mess that is her room. Her clothes and Cards are strewn carelessly around the floor, and an empty barrel of alcohol sits in the far corner of the room. A tray of cold food is placed on the coffee table in the middle of the room, untouched.
"..."
Still nothing. Not even a quiet rustle of her blanket. Macao sighs again, and begins cleaning the floors silently. He picks up a Card and adds it to the stack on the coffee table.
"This is even worse than Natsu's house," he says, trying for a response.
"..."
Nope, nothing. Macao goes back to cleaning.
A few minutes pass, and Macao whistles, long and low. He holds up a lacy, see-through, black bra. "Whoa, Cana, I didn't know people owned these things."
There's a twitch from under the covers, but otherwise, Cana's unresponsive. Macao's shoulders sag briefly at another defeat. He goes back to cleaning, and doesn't say anything else until the task is finished.
"How long has it been since you last ate?" Macao asks, picking up the food tray. He sniffs it and wrinkles his nose, then throws the entire tray into the garbage can.
"Go away," Cana finally rasps, coughing a little.
"Quite a while, from the sound of your voice." Macao walks over to the stove, and makes unnecessarily loud noises as he pulls out a pot, some rice, and some vegetables from her small kitchen area. He fills the pot with water and places it on the stove, allowing it to boil. The steady chop chop chop of Macao's knife on the cutting board is the only sound in the room for a while.
"Leave me alone," Cana says, irked by the noise he's creating.
"No," is his answer, as he throws the vegetables into the water. He sets up a kettle beside the pot, and begins boiling water in it, too. After a few silent moments, Macao deems the vegetables cooked and pours the rice grains into the pot. He covers the pot and begins digging around for some tea. He slams the door loudly upon not finding any leaves and searches the next, doing the same since the leaves weren't there, either.
After the fourth slam, Cana shouts, "Shut up and get out, Macao!"
"Aha, I found them!" Macao exclaims, paying no heed to the brunette. The kettle starts whistling, and he sets the tea leaves down on the counter and quickly makes his way back to the stove, removing the kettle from the coils. He uncovers the pot and began stirring the congee. He finds a small teapot sitting near the corner of the stove, and after placing a small amount of leaves inside, pours the boiling water inside and allows the tea leaves to soak.
After more silence, Macao gets a bowl and scoops some out, then throws some seasoning in to give it some taste. He pours some tea into a cup and brings it, along with the bowl of congee, to Cana's bedside and sits down, placing the hot bowl on his lap and the cup on the coffee table, which he pulls closer to the bed so that he can reach it.
"Cana," he says softly, tugging at the blanket that covers her. "Cana, you have to eat." The Card Mage's grip on the white covers tighten, and for the umpteenth time that day, Macao sighs. He places the bowl on the coffee table, then rips the covers out of Cana's grip and pulls her upright. There's a surprised yelp from the girl.
Cana's worse off than Macao had originally thought she was. Her eyes are red and puffy, and she's thinner than usual. Her right wrist is purple and swollen, and the bandages that are wrapped around her abdomen are dirty and has traces of blood seeping through it. She's clutching a torn, black cape to her body tightly, shivering.
"Go the fuck away, Macao," she hisses. "I'm not hungry."
"Liar," he accuses, picking the bowl back up. "You've barricaded yourself in your room for a week, now. You are hungry." He lifts the congee-filled spoon to her lips, cupping a hand under it in case any of it falls. "Eat."
Cana turns her head away from him, and draws her knees up to her chest. Macao frowns and forcefully grabs her chin, turning her back to him, and forces a spoonful of congee into her mouth. Cana coughs, then swallows, shooting a glare at the Flame Mage.
She opens her mouth to say something, but another spoon of the porridge is shoved into her mouth. The process happens twice more before Cana finally demands, "Stop it!"
"If you promise me you can eat on your own," he says, holding another spoonful out, "but I don't think you can."
"I'm not a little kid," she says angrily. She tries to lift her arm, but whimpers as needles of pain shoot up through the limb. The swollen arm lies limply on her bed, trembling slightly. However, she refuses to let go of the cape she's holding, so she doesn't move afterwards.
"See?" Macao says haughtily. He touches the spoon to her lips gently. "Here, I'll feed you."
Cana blushes, but complies and parts her lips. Macao smiles and spoons the congee into her mouth slowly. When she finishes the congee, Macao switches the empty bowl for the tea. Cana gulps it all down quickly, and Macao chuckles, wiping her chin where some of the tea had spilled.
"You should get that looked at," he tells her, pointing at her wrist. "Wendy could probably heal it, but she's out on a mission." He scratches his chin absentmindedly. "Do you have any medical supplies here?" Cana shakes her head, looking down at her toes. The bed creaks as Macao shifts his weight. "I'll go get some and bind it myself, then." But just as he's about to leave, he feels something tugging on his jacket.
"Stay," Cana says, looking up at the older man. "Please." Macao's surprised, but smiles and sits back down.
"...He was strong, you know that?" he says after a while. "That's why we're all still alive."
"I know," she whispers, propping her chin on her knees.
"You're not the only one grieving. I'm sure Natsu and Happy feel just as bad."
"But if I hadn't been injured..."
"Cana, the thing almost ripped your stomach out."
"It's all my fault," she says, voice wavering.
"No, it's not," he argues back, turning so that he's facing her. "He was part of Fairy Tail. It doesn't matter who was with you at the time, whoever it was would've still done the same thing."
Cana clutches the cape even closer to her body and trembles. Macao looks at her with soft eyes; he's never seen the Card Mage like this before. He leans forward and hugs her tightly, ignoring the surprised gasp she lets out.
"It hadn't even been a day," she chokes out after a few silent moments. "It was two hours at most after I told him."
Macao strokes her back soothingly. "Yeah... He loved you a lot, y'know."
Cana nods. "H-He was crying... when he stood there." Her voice catches in her throat, and she sucks in a shaky breath. "He tried not to sh-show it, but I s-saw the t-tears, and..."
"Shh..." he mumbles, kissing the top of her head. "I know, I know... It's okay, Cana."
"I never got to say... I love you," she says, voice warbling embarrassingly high. She leans her head on Macao's shoulder. "I never..." He feels wetness seep through his shirt and pulls her closer, whispering soft words to her as she cries.
"Gildarts..." she sobs, allowing her uninjured hand to wrap around the older man, clutching the back of his jacket tightly. "Father..."
Macao doesn't know who the next words that come out of her mouth are directed to, him or Gildarts. But he decides not to be rude and says nothing, only kisses her head softly again as she whispers,
"I love you..."
And even Cana doesn't know who she's referring to.
I'm sick, hurt, sore, and I have people I don't want to see right now, so I've ditched school to write this. I'm going through a rough patch in my life, so fictional characters should just shut up and suffer with me.
Thanks for reading.