Outside of Happy-Go-Lucky Bar, two men stood arguing loudly in the dark of the night.
"I told you to take it to the mechanic!"
"And I told you that I was too busy to!"
"Oi, Droy, you wanna take this outside—"
"We're already outside, Jet!" They started a shoving match, and they were inches from a full-on fight in the dim light of the bar before a loud metallic clatter caught their attention. They turned to their vehicle in time to see a black-cloaked figure taking off with one of their parcels. "See! You're still not doing your job!"
"Be quiet and let's catch that guy!" They took off, following the thief as he traced a difficult pathway through the darkened Shirotsume. The criminal was very persistent considering that he was stealing a box of books, however they had yet to reach stores (which Jet and Droy were, in fact, carrying them to), and considering the authors, the thief could sell them for ten times as much as they were worth and make a pretty good penny. Jet was right on the man's tail, having been the fastest ever since he was young, but Droy was lagging behind several paces. "Just go get the police!" Jet told him. Droy nodded in agreement and they parted ways as Jet chased the thief down a dark alleyway.
"You're awfully persistent," the thief commented offhandedly as the alley narrowed. Jet felt old beer bottles crunching beneath his boots as he tried to keep pace while twisting slightly to avoid rubbing his shoulders against the surrounding buildings' walls.
"That's funny coming from you. I've heard of people stealing money, gold, silver, but books?" The thief didn't respond and instead picked up the pace. Jet could keep up easily in better circumstances, however they were quickly running out of horizontal space. He looked past the thief's cloak and saw them reaching a wall that created a split at the end of the alley and braced himself to follow. Instead of taking a path, however, the thief jumped and used the wall to kick backwards over Jet's head. Jet whirled around and saw him grab onto the ladder of a fire escape and start climbing. He tried jumping but he couldn't go high enough to reach the ladder, and the thief was quickly escaping. Jet finally gave up and went down one of the alley's forks, figuring that he could go around the building and find another way up.
"Droy!" Jet called as he caught sight of the tan man down the street. Droy waved over at him, too far away to speak, as mounted police raced to the scene. Still, they weren't fast enough, and the thief was still moving as they spoke and the police tried to figure a way up the buildings. Jet looked around and caught the cloaked man, silhouetted by the moon and starlight, raced across the building's rooftops to make an even quicker escape. "He's getting away!" Jet yelled as soon as they were within speaking distance.
"What do we do?" Droy demanded. "We can't catch up to him now!"
"We can't let him get away with the books either! She'll hate us!" The prospect of that shocked both of them, and they jumped into another argument.
"Excuse me," an officer with mint-green hair interrupted, holding out his badged engraved OFFICER F. JUSTINE, "but we need some information on the thief."
"He's wearing a black cloak—" was all Droy could get out before he was vacuumed back into another argument.
"It was purple!" Jet argued.
"Black! You just didn't get a good look at it!"
"Of course I did! I was chasing him down you moron!" The argument dissolved into pointless squabbling after that, and Officer Justine gave up and instead went to his higher-up, Laxus Dreyar.
"Who the hell steals books?" Laxus snorted derisively as three other officers started to ascend various fire escapes. Two more went inside off the buildings to walk up the stairs, and one used a grappling hook. "They're worth a lot, but still, they're books."
"People will steal anything these days, sir," Freed amended. Laxus just grunted, crossing his arms over his burly chest as his good eye roamed the scene.
"Where are the others in your team?"
"Officer Evergreen is getting information from the townspeople, and Officer Bickslow is guarding the remainder of the transport." Laxus nodded before turning in surprise at one of the surrounding buildings. "What is it, sir?"
"…Somebody's up there," he answered after a moment, eye narrowed. Freed turned and stared at the entire row of buildings, however he couldn't see anybody. Still, he trusted Laxus' word and told the officers to proceed with caution.
On top of the building, the three officers came to a stop upon seeing a shady figure standing at the edge. They drew guns immediately, the lead officer, Erza Scarlet, shouting, "Freeze! Hands in the air!"
He turned to them, coarse hair falling over his tattered black shirt, gloved hands in the air. The strangest thing about him, however, was the crooked strip of metal balanced between his teeth like a smoking pipe, and stranger still, he appeared to be chewing on it. "What'd I do? Can't a guy stare at the stars without getting the feds on his behind?" he snorted. Erza exchanged a look with her fellow officers but kept the gun trained on him.
"Name."
"Why? Ya wanna date? Sorry, Red, but you're not my type," he smirked. Irritated, Erza clenched her teeth and prepared to fire.
"Name, or we'll be forced to take you in." She nodded at Cana Alberona, who was the second-strongest physically, to make sure she was prepared.
"…Redfox," he finally answered, a highly displeased expression on his face as his sharp teeth clamped down on the metal. "Gajeel."
"Gajeel Redfox…" A smirk curved the redhead's lips as she lowered her gun, her subordinates remaining ready as she situated her gloved hands on her prominent hips. "You've a rap sheet as big as Fiore. Blue-collar crimes, white-collar crimes, and about five other categories that we've had to make up just for you and your family."
"Really? Just for me? I feel special," he said in a droll tone as he crunched on the metal. It sounded painful to Erza's ears, however he didn't flinch, and magically his teeth didn't break either.
"I don't suppose you know anything about some stolen books?"
"Do I look like a guy that steals books?" he snorted in indignation. "That red hair dye must've been seepin' into that tiny brain of yours." A vein pulsed in Erza's temple as she fought to keep composure. "You'd sooner find me stealin' candy from a baby—or maybe thongs from your dresser," he added with a shark-ish grin.
"Scarlet," Cana warned as Erza's trigger finger became twitchy. She forced a levelled expression onto her face as she locked eyes with Gajeel again, who appeared entirely bored with the affair. "We really don't have any evidence that he's done this."
"His character is evidence," Erza growled.
"But sadly, not evidence enough for this particular crime," Gajeel smirked. "And if ya arrest me now, it'll be worth your job. A criminal knows the law, Scarlet—that's how we're so good at breakin' it, gihihi." Erza was ready to draw her gun again when a whistle sounded in the distance, three separate blows before one long one.
"They've caught the thief," Lisanna Strauss said, lowering her gun. "So this guy is innocent…at least where the books are concerned. Let's go." She and Cana went towards the sound of the whistle, descending the building on the other side via a rickety ladder, while Erza remained in a glaring match with Gajeel.
"Maybe not today, Redfox, but I will slap handcuffs on you in the very near future," Officer Scarlet promised.
"Wow, really? Are you gonna be wearin' a sexy outfit too?" he jeered. Erza growled at him, but obviously she was out of time, because she followed the others with a deliberate middle finger in his direction. "That's real sexy, babe," he called as she slid down the ladder. He shrugged her off, then he leaned over the edge to watch the police move their investigation over to the new site of the crime. Satisfied of his safety, he continued his original task: making some quick bucks. He made a few circles around the rooftop before he finally found the loose slab of concrete and, with a bit of effort, hefted it up and out of the way, baring the old ladder leading down into the abandoned warehouse's attic. He chuckled to himself thinking that those officers couldn't find their captures in plain sight—then again, people were notoriously oblivious.
He descended the ladder into the darkness of the attic, dust coming up as his boots hit the softening wooden ground. Jagged strips of moonlight slipped through the boarded windows and onto the tarped furniture, on which sat Gajeel's cohorts and fellow criminals overdue for a long trip to the big house. "We were almost discovered!" Aria sobbed, tears soaking through his blindfold and convulsions wracking his huge body.
"Eh, shut yer trap," Gajeel snapped, sitting on a table.
"It's your fault for always forgetting where the entrance is," Totomaru accused. Gajeel snorted through his nose and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Oui, he is right," Sol added.
"Both of you shut yer traps. It ain't my fault we've got such a crappy meeting place—"
"Juvia doesn't like your attitude," Juvia Lockser interceded, rising against him. He stood too, towering over her by a good handful of inches, but she was undaunted. "These are Juvia's friends, even if you don't like them."
"Why should I like 'em? They're all morons!" The rest of the gang crowed in anger, yet they refused to stand, having already gotten a good idea of what happened when somebody tried to fight Gajeel. "You too! And if ya know what's good for yerself, you'll get outta my face in three—two—"
"Juvia isn't scared of you," she said in a quiet but hard voice. Gajeel smirked and cracked each knuckle loudly and deliberately.
"Then lemme teach you to be scared—"
"Gajeel!" rang an irritated voice as the trapdoor leading up to the attic slammed shut. Everybody immediately fell silent in reverence as the brains and heart of the operation, Metallicana Redfox, stepped onto the scene. He was the older spitting-image of Gajeel, save for an ugly scar on his forehead that curved down his left cheek and some metal braces on his bad right knee. Still, in spite of his age and injuries, he was a force that even the Devil himself wouldn't reckon with. "Sit down, boy, before I sit you down myself."
"Sure thing, Pops," Gajeel sneered, plopping back down on the table as the plushest leather chair was vacated for his father. He sat down heavily, ringed fingers grasping the armrests as he settled with a grunt.
"Now, what have I missed?"
"Juvia has taken out two competitors," Juvia boasted.
"And I have eliminated trois," Sol added.
"They were so sad as they died!" Aria howled.
"We've also intercepted a message between government officials," Totomaru told Metallicana. "They've taken our bait perfectly. They won't be on our trail for at least two weeks."
"Good news, all of you," Metallicana congratulated. "Now, what of your affair, son?"
"That deal you proposed? He ain't like it," Gajeel snorted. "Flipped me off and as if our money wasn't enough, he grabbed some books too just to make sure he got some bang outta this whole exchange."
"And what did you do?" Gajeel grimed around his metal, snapping his jaw shut. It finally gave out and shattered into steel shards that rained on the floor.
"Gutted him, 'course. Gihi. What'd you expect, Pops? I got 'im good, but apparently he's more sturdy than we thought, 'cause he kept going all the way downtown with a big ol' gaping hole in his side."
"Good boy," Metallicana praised, and despite himself Gajeel's heart swelled with pride. "Anyhow, I have interesting news for you all: Redfox Industries has acquired a metal-melting factory."
"That ain't news," some person in the back of the room cried out. The next sound out of that guy was a wail of pain as a knife found its way into his mouth.
"Jose?" Jose Porla, Metallicana's right-hand lapdog, handed a bound stack of files to him. "No, these are—prepare yourselves—legal investments." A gasp of surprise whirled around the room as for the first time ever, Redfox "Industries" stood in the light to earn an honest paycheck. "It is amazing," he agreed. "An old friend of mine recently passed—" murmured apologies surged, to which Metallicana gave heartfelt thanks, "—and in his will, I was left with his lackluster metalworking business. However, I think that I, with your help, have the wherewithal and significance to turn it into something greater."
"I prefer the darkness," Gajeel complained.
"And we will stay there, as is our rightful place, Gajeel," Metallicana assured. "But having at least one toe out of water will give the police less reason to constantly observe us. We will have a reason for our wealth, and therefore they will not be able to touch us as easily." More whispers flew around as the group nodded in understanding and agreement.
"Eh? Only bastards and wimps follow the law," Gajeel protested. "I ain't with this, Pops."
"You will be as long as I say you are," he countered. "Unless, of course, you want to leave?" Gajeel muttered under his breath. "What was that? Speak up."
"I said, Yes'ir," he said louder.
"So, uh, how's this going to work?" someone else from the crowd asked.
"We are going to move our main operations to the warehouse, which is located in southern Magnolia," Metallicana said. "There, we can make money almost as good and cover our tracks at the same time. Ladies and gentlemen, we will have so much money we won't know what to do with it." Small murmurs of appreciation and excitement ran through the crowd as Metallicana stood with a smirk. "Jose, the good wine please."
"Yes, sir," he said, going into the attic's dusty cooler to bring out two bottles of aged chardonnay. Glasses circulated, followed by the crisp dark yellow liquid. Metallicana raised his flute.
"To more successful days," he announced. His so-loyal minions raised their glasses and repeated the toast with gusto: "To more successful days!"
"Woo-hoo," Gajeel muttered as he downed his drink.
"What is this?" Lucy asked her boss, holding out the report he had just asked her to print. He gave her an odd look.
"It's the news…duh," Natsu replied, resting his palms on her desk amidst the clutter of correspondence to be done and half-written stories. She used to be excited to be a journalist, but the massive amount of paperwork per diem and the—ahem—quirky staff dimmed her mood every time she walked through the door.
"Yes, I know," she said, rolling her eyes, "but I thought we weren't allowed to make stuff up?"
"We aren't—we can't."
"Then what is this? 'Redfox syndicate leader found dead'? This can't be real," Lucy droned, waving the papers in his face. He pushed her hand to the table, giving her a stern look as he took several photos from his red blazer and set them down on her desk. She looked and gasped quietly, covering her mouth to hold back a gag. The photos were very graphic, showing the mutilated and bullet hole-ridden corpse, but the disheveled hair and ghastly face remained, just as recognizable as always. "Oh my…"
"See 'em and weep, Luce," he said, pulling away to walk a slow circuit around her small office. He came to a stop at her open window and gave his signature oh-no-this-guy-is-insane grin, clapping his hands together excitedly. "There's a hole in the old order and now every backwater gang is rushin' to fill it… More action, more stories, more food money!"
"Somehow I knew that was your only motivation," she sighed. "I'll have the story printed by five tomorrow, alright, Natsu?"
"Thanks, Luce!" He swept away muttering what sounded like "cheeseburgers or steak" under his breath. Lucy sighed as she looked over the report again.
"'Metallicana Redfox was found in an alleyway three days ago carved open, his legs, one arm, and several organs taken out. The killer left no trace, and because of the extensive bad company he was aligned with, there are too many possible suspects to narrow down. It has also been reported that the syndicate's favorite hangouts were quickly vacated, leaving many previously-infested stores and bars open for the public once again. His son, Gajeel Redfox, the natural next-in-line for leader, is nowhere to be found.'" Lucy looked out the window at Magnolia, pursing her lips. "If the son of that man is out running on the streets…nobody can be safe."
"Momma, something's looking at me from the alley—"
"Just walk faster honey, come on."
Gajeel watched the little girl as her mother tugged her a bit too hard, causing her to drop the pastry she was carrying. He reached out from the crate he was sitting on to snatch it up. Thankfully, the paper it was wrapped in kept it clean, and as he ate it he lamented about the copious amount of strawberry and sugar in it. That was how he'd been getting his food the last three days and it became more unpleasant each time. Mostly, he got food in that manner; other times he was very unlucky and had to root through trashcans. Neither state was desirable, however, but he dug himself that hole when he—
He looked down as he felt a weak scratch on his pants and saw a black cat looking at him with gloomy eyes. Gajeel picked him up and gave him the last of the pastry. "You on the street too?" Gajeel asked, scratching behind his ears.
"Meow," he answered dejectedly, leaning into his hand.
"Well, least we're not alone anymore. Not that it makes a damn difference…" He sighed as he looked out at the street again, watching carriages run to and fro along the paved ground. "Gotta find somewhere to sleep tonight." He dragged himself to his feet with the cat in his arms… "Pantherlily, I like that name. How 'bout you?"
"Meow," he said neutrally. He pulled his cloak over his head, and although it did nothing to hide his distinctive red eyes, he could more or less pass for any average street rat. Average street rat… The words burned his tongue like the most potent poison. He, Gajeel Redfox, grabbing food from the grubby street while goody good red-dye Scarlet cozied up in her big house counting herself to sleep with how many bullets she'd pop in his skull given the chance. Then again, if he was starving out on the hot midmorning asphalt, she could crack a pretty good shot on his ass without even trying. Ah, damn it all.
He went past his usual bits—Cardia Cathedral, a local monastery, women and children's home (hey, he put in an effort)—but he wasn't the only bastard out there in the cold nights with nowhere to rest his stuffed and bolted head, and he was turned away as he arrived "a little too late." He couldn't complain though, he only gritted his teeth and turned away, the same as he always did when his old man snapped on him, the same as he would continue to do when things got rough. It was one of the Redfox family mottos, right up there alongside "pillage 'n' steal 'n' don't ever apologize for it." Still, he had a little kitty to take care of, and although he wouldn't ever have admitted it to any of those gang lackeys, he really liked cats, and Lily was the first one to ever like him back.
"Life really sucks for us backwater lives, don't it?" Gajeel sighed to him as they walked along a dirt pathway parallel to a river. Night had already fallen, and all his running around and groveling had him both exhausted and starving. It didn't seem like he would get lucky, however, and his patience had run far too thin for him to stand at some stranger's door and growl out a "pretty please" for a dumb loaf of bread for the third time—that day. He felt as if he'd keel over then and there, but giving in sure as hell wasn't his modus operandi—hell, most would say he was just as hardheaded as that steel plate on his skull. (Unconventional bulletproofing method, but it worked.) Lily trotted alongside him as he tried to walk straight, but he must've stumbled a couple of times from fatigue because a sudden square of golden light shone from an opening window right onto him.
"Hey, sir, are you alright?" He arched his head back and locked his narrowed eyes on the speaker, a young woman dressed for sleep leaning out of an apartment. She had long blonde hair pinned to the back of her head and a soft expression—Gajeel wasn't sure that had seen that kind of concern in a long while. He grunted at her and gave a curt nod of his head. She huffed before shutting her window.
She wouldn't'a had been so "nice" if she'd 'a known who she's talkin' to.
He barely had the time to lament before a larger rectangle of golden light opened up to his side. The blonde woman was standing at the base of a two-story, a stern expression on her face. "You don't look alright to me," she persisted.
"Look…Bunny-girl," he muttered lowly, eyes raking over her rabbit-printed nightgown. She blew her cheeks out at the title, hands fisted on her full hips. "I don't need no help, 'specially not from some girlie."
"Meow," Lily nearly groaned with a shake of his head, and he easily slunk over to her side.
"Your cat says otherwise."
"He's a traitor. I'm fine."
"Hey, I know a thing or two about stubborn men and their pride and I know how it'll be the death of you all one day." She stepped aside, baring her doorway to him. "The only other thing for you to do would be stay out in the cold."
"I'm used to it." She snorted in response but didn't close the door. He looked down at Lily, who appeared very content to bask in a warm house with real food, and grunted a complaint.
"Do you really want to go off and leave your cat here?"
"—I'm hopin' ya don't mind mud tracks on yer ground," was all he ground out before shouldering past her, boots squeaking noisily against the waxed wooden floor. She shut the door with a tired sigh, eliciting a perplexed call from upstairs.
"Don't worry about it, Natsu!" she replied.
"Won't your guy get mad if ya bring another guy in here?" Her cheeks burned in response.
"He's not my—"
"And yer pretty trusting too… I might be here jus' ta rob ya."
"Na… Natsu is coverage enough," she muttered as she regained her bearings.
"Ya sure? A flowery name like that? I bet I could smash 'im with one finger."
"Did someone just challenge me?" Natsu's voice came roaring from upstairs. "Bring it on!"
"He's so strange," she sighed, pointing Gajeel down the hall. "The guest bathroom is that way. I can also give you some of Natsu's clothes."
"His clothes are here and ya say he's not yer husband?"
"L-Look I'm trying to be genial here and you're prying into my personal life!" she exclaimed. "Just go!"
"Whatever you say, Bunny-girl," he snickered, shouldering past her and to the door she pointed at. Her bathroom was thankfully plain, because he was sure he'd get himself ejected if he found any pink wallpaper or such inside, but there was a simple wooden bath and toilet with a sink stand. He unbuttoned his shirt but had to stop midway as he chuckled to himself, imagining the situation he was in. With his old man around, they always lived in style, the best house in the hills with a plethora of servants all bought by their embezzlement money. Now he was living by the charity of a bunny-loving blonde and her husband-not-husband upstairs.
"Gotta be happy I always moved in the shadows," he muttered, letting his shirt hit the ground and moving onto his pants, "otherwise even the friendliest bastards would throw me on my behind."
He usually didn't take long baths, but there was a few days' worth of grunge mortared on him that he had to scrape off. As he tried not to let the stinging herbal scent of the bar soap stick in his hyper-sensitive nose, he plotted his next move. The rest of the old Redfox crew split town, maybe even the country, so there was a pretty decent chance of him not getting help from those morons. That left…nobody.
He had nobody to turn to.
Gajeel slammed a fist against the side of the tub, throwing his torso over the edge with a heavy groan. He could make a couple in street fights, but with how tight the rich bastards in the town were, he wouldn't make enough to live off three square meals. He could become a thief… No way. He didn't steal—he never stole. As far as sexy Scarlet was concerned, he was a malefactor, but he did have his ethics, vague as they were. So he had to…get a job. Okay, he could make that work.
He let the water drain away and stepped out, feeling the remainder run down the scarred planes of his body. He dried himself off and left the towel on his still-soaked hair as he glanced out the door, finding a bundle of clothes set just next to it. He dressed himself in the grey button-down, pink vest, and brown pants, and internally cursed at whatever bastard really dressed like that. When he left, he spotted the Bunny-girl sitting in the main room writing something. Another man with pink hair so disheveled it hadn't seen a comb for even longer than Gajeel's was perched at her shoulder, trying to read while she easily kept it from his view.
"Just one peek, Lucy," he insisted, grabbing her thin wrist and tugging it in his direction. She held her ground even as muscles bulged within his loose shirt from the effort.
"No, Natsu."
"Just a little peek—"
"C'mon Bunny-girl, don't tell me yer not together."
"Ugh," she complained, getting up and shifting her blush from view. Natsu eyed Gajeel from head to toe and Gajeel emulated the action.
"You look strong—let's fight," he said with no buildup, no prevarication whatsoever.
"I'll beat yer ass in a second."
"Who are you anyway? I never saw your mug at the bar before."
"Some spittle on Magnolia's good name. What are you, a walkin' bubblegum advertisement?" Evidently the wrong thing to say, as Natsu's fists tightened and his back unbent to push his admittedly-strong chest out. Gajeel felt a faint scratch on his leg before Lily clambered onto his shoulder, hissing angrily. Natsu's entire disposition changed in the span of a groan.
"That's not fair, you have your cat. That's two-on-one." Lucy didn't speak a word to either of them, instead shuffling past Gajeel and down the hall.
"Two-on-on… He's a cat, genius."
"So?" he spat, crossing his arms. Gajeel rolled his eyes and dropped to the couch, throwing his arms over the back and making himself comfortable. Lucy returned a moment later and set a plate of steak and mashed potatoes in front of him.
"So, I can't afford to feed two men—not when Natsu eats as much as twelve men—so I'm hoping you have somewhere else to stay?" Gajeel grunted as he took a bite, staunchly eyeing the patterns of her door. Lily returned from his self-guided tour to crawl onto the table and nibble on the edge of the steak. "—What about work?" she tried again. "You can work."
"I can—don't know who'll hire me though."
"Farmers maybe? You could be a scarecrow with that mug," Natsu said. Gajeel wished he had some metal to hawk in the bastard's eye.
"Maybe you could work at the office?" she suggested.
"What office?"
"Hell no," Natsu protested as Lucy continued, "The print office, where we produce the local paper."
"Yea… I don't see myself doin' that crap. The paper's full of yellow rats… No offense, Bunny-girl."
"How could that not be offensive?" she muttered before glancing at a wall clock. She drew a yarn blanket from the back of the couch and handed it to him. "And anyway, it's late. You can sleep on the couch tonight and see if you can find work tomorrow—if not, there's still a position at the office. Alright?" He simply grunted, which Lucy took to be his affirmation. "And you, go home," she snapped at Natsu.
"Aww, but it's no fun with just Happy around," he complained, following her up the stairs. "Lu-cy—"
"I said HOME!" A second later he came tumbling down each step and landed ass-over-ears sprawled on the carpet. "Haven't you ever heard of the fine line between employees and bosses!?"
"Argh," he complained, rising to his feet and dusting himself off. He grumbled quietly as he slunk towards the door, yet he paused with one hand on the knob to glance over his shoulder at Gajeel. "You should try the downtown district—a lotta rich guys down there that could use a hand and don't care where it's coming from. The pay sucks ass, I'll tell you firsthand, but it's better than prowling for your next meal that was probably three other people's meal."
"Whaddaya know about that?" he queried, half out of disgruntlement and half out of simple curio. Natsu was rugged in his own right, but he was also getting knocked around in a pressed shirt and sparkling chinos, so he had to be pretty decent.
"I spent some time out there after my old man, Igneel, passed," he answered with just a tinge of despondency that quickly melted on his tongue, replaced by a quirky grin. "But I started doing pretty well for myself if I may say so, so there's gotta be hope for even a deadbeat like you."
"Thanks," he rumbled with no huge conviviality or even rectitude. Natsu took it the same as he left, nonetheless. No longer as hungry as before Gajeel laid back on Bunny-girl's floral couch with the blanket drawn to his chest, letting Pantherlily have his dinner as he stared at the swinging ceiling fan. Tomorrow, for the first time in his crime-filled life, he was going to work a real job for real, unbloodied money.