Patrolling wasn't as mind-numbingly boring as the others complained it was. For him, being by himself amongst the quiet shadows was pleasant. Unlike Sting, for him socializing with the others at the guild was not a way to unwind after a hard day's work or a mission. That was more of a chore, really. It wasn't that he didn't like his guild mates- he did. But sitting through exaggerated stories around drunken mages, or worse, drunk female mages, tested his cool demeanor and patience too much to be considered relaxing or enjoyable.
Rogue, Sting, Lector and Frosch had arrived back in Wichita from a mission around 11 pm to find the Sabertooth guildhall still alive with banter, fights and the regular hooliganism that a Friday night usually entailed. Rogue had stayed for about an hour, per Sting's request, before heading home in hopes of rest. However, once home, he realized he had hoped for too much. After hours of trying to fall asleep he gave up and got dressed to go out on patrol.
It was quarter after five; the sun was yet to come up. Perfect. Too early for working people and too late for any criminals to bother trying anything, the streets of Wichita were free for him to roam through as he pleased. A shadow darker than the others pooled at his feet. Rogue let his body sink further into the darkness.
Shadowing was his favorite use of magic. The shadows adapted to his every need, mood and circumstance. As of right now, Rogue felt like flying. The shadow was cool and fluid as it caressed the streets.
This is the life, he thought.
Then he heard the faint sobbing.
His nose caught up with his ears quickly, and his senses were soon filled with fresh spring rain and infinite water drops hitting the ground. If it wasn't for the sobbing, Rogue would've enjoyed the new weather. But he couldn't simply ignore her.
He soon realized using his nose as guidance was futile. Her scent seemed to be everywhere, yet concentrated nowhere, as if she lightly blanketed the entire area. He focused on the sound. Her cries where both quiet and distant, but he could make out a direction. The shadows changed to a determined blur of darkness accelerating her way.
The closer he got to her, the stronger her scent and the rain became. Once within eye sight of the goal he slowed to a stop. She didn't seem to be particularly in any danger. Also, he didn't want to scare her.
The pale creature was drenched from head to toe. Not that she seemed to care. The wet, long blue hair hung limply from her head, sticking to her exposed shoulders and upper back. She sat on the edge of the bridge with her feet dangling in the open space under them. Her hands covered her face; her torso hunched over itself and was lightly shaking.
Rogue didn't know what to do.
Now that he was there, he was unsure if he should meddle at all. There was no one harming her, after all. No criminals to fight in sight.
Sighing, he realized she would probably get sick being in the rain like this. It's not like her soaked tank top and shorts were giving her much protection at the moment. Plus, winter wasn't actually over yet. It was still kind of cold outside.
He came out of shadow form but commanded a shadow to hover over him to keep him dry.
She felt…familiar. He couldn't quite recall where he knew her from until he got close enough to notice the guild mark on her thigh.
Fairy Tail. She must've participated in the Grand Magic Games. He searched his memories and vaguely remembered a water mage from one of FT's teams going against Minerva in the water bubble challenge. His focused had been the near-dead blonde Minerva was abusing, so he couldn't recall much information on the blue-haired mess of a girl sitting 15 feet away.
"Excuse me, Miss?"
The girl startled and her head whipped up to look at the approaching stranger. She stood quickly, wiping tears from her puffy eyes and red cheeks. She didn't look scared of him, but had taken a defensive stance.
"My name is Rogue Cheney, from the Sabertooth guild. What may your name be, my lady?"
"Juvia," she said. "Juvia Lockster."