One
Before anyone asks, there's a perfectly good reason why she's wearing a ridiculous maid outfit and crying in the living room with a glass of wine in her hand.
It all starts the day she's set to find out if she's made partner.
After spending the whole evening anxiously pacing around her apartment, she wakes up at 5 a.m. with her heart pounding.
Which is a miracle really because she's not a morning person and it normally takes her at least three hours to rouse herself from sleep. That's why she always sets all her alarms at four but this time around she didn't need even them, waking up a whole hour before she they can go off. It probably has something to do with the fact that today is the day when Jose Porla names the new partner for Fantomu Rōdo Law Firm. This is it. All the studying, the work, the late nights…it's all been for this day. Partner. Or not partner.
Oh, God, she needs to stop thinking about it. She won't know until late in the afternoon anyway so there's really no point in getting worked up about it.
Gajeel's told her as much the night before, when they were out in Tofuya Ukai for her birthday. Although now that she thinks about it, it wasn't much a birthday to begin with. She was supposed to spend the whole day off and just relax but the office called her because of a blip with one of their clients, Akira. She would've cancelled on the spa treatment Gajeel got her at Yamachu but she knew for a fact that it was expensive and she didn't want to offend him (considering how she's ditched the last few spa treatments he got her), so she spent the whole day trying to sneakily type out a new document on her blackberry while the masseuse gave her some sort of special massage for her nerves. Then, there was dinner which was kind of a disaster.
Gajeel and her were supposed to have a lovely dinner at Tofuya Ukai but the office called her again to say that a new thing came up so she ended up rushing through all five courses just so she can run back to the office. Gajeel nearly through a conniption. He spent the whole ride back ranting about how she takes her job way too seriously and that she's always stressed and under pressure and that they can't possibly make her work on her birthday.
But the thing is, she has a deadline and deadlines come first, end of story. Prior engagements don't count, and birthdays don't count. There's no room for vacation unless everything's sorted out. One of the associates' wife, Sol, had a kid once in the morning but he was back in the office by lunchtime.
And it's honestly no big deal. She's used to pressure. In fact, she thrives in it. Has been doing so ever since she's entered law school. She loves her job. She loves spotting the loophole in a contract. Loves the thrill of negotiation and arguing her case and making the sharpest point in the whole room. She loves the adrenaline of closing a deal.
Law is her whole life. Which is why she's practically born for the position of partner.
If only Aria would see it that way. He's her least favorite among the senior partners. He's unnerving, his eyes hidden behind dark spectacles and his mouth always set in a droopy line. What's worse is that he lives in the same building as her so she always has to deal with awkward, small talk every time she catches him in the elevator. If only her neighbor was Jose Porla. He's kind of the maverick of the firm, the one who always breaks the rules. Once, he brought a dog to an important corporate meeting but everybody loved it and he ended up being a big hit. If anyone can lighten the atmosphere in a tricky meeting, it's Jose Porla. She's sure that among all the partners, he'll be the one rooting for her to get promoted. Just as she's equally sure that Aria will be opposing it. She's already overheard Aria saying that she's way too young to be made partner and that there's no rush. He'd probably have her slaving away as an associate for five more years if he had his way. But Porla will surely be on her side.
Oh god, she needs to stop. She'll find out anyway by the end of the day so there's no need to think about it until she has to.
With shaking knees, she gets up, totters to the kitchen and tries to navigate her way past the pile of empty take-out containers and milk bottles. If her mother could see her kitchen, she'd probably blow an artery. Her mother used to be a chef and when she wasn't busy cooking meals for customers in her restaurant, she and Juvia were in their sunny kitchen, whipping up new recipes and experimenting with old dishes. Before she can stop herself, her eyes suddenly feel hot and watery.
Great. She's walked into it. She stares at the floor, counting down the seconds, trying to fold up all the memories and package them away in some dark, unknown corner in her mind. She is not getting into this, of all days. She can't afford to, not with her possible promotion—
If you do get picked for partner, they would've been proud of you.
The phrase forces its way into her thoughts before she can stop it.
Her chest begins to fold over and she takes another deep breath to still it.
Well, it doesn't matter, she briskly decides once she's managed to regulate her breathing. What's done is done. There's no point in talking about what ifs and would haves. Her parents died in a car crash. It happened. There's nothing left to say.
With a shake of her head, she switches the kettle on and takes a sachet of instant coffee and nibbles a few Shreddies out of the packet while she waits for the water to boil.
The truth is she doesn't really care about the stuff that happened to her parents anymore. There's only one thing she cares about.
And it's making partner at the Fantomu Rōdo Law Firm.
She arrives at the office determined not to acknowledge the day as any kind of special day. She keeps her head down as she briskly walks through the cubicles to her own desk, trying to ignore everyone's cheers of "Good luck!" and thumbs ups. When she finally gets to her own office, she looks through some documents, trying to ignore the fact that through the partition glass, she can see people talking in the corridor and glancing in her direction.
Thirty minutes later, the door opens without a knock and immediately, she can tell it's Gajeel.
"Juvia?" he says, holding up two cups of coffee. Gajeel's her oldest, dearest friend and they've known each other since they were in diapers. When her parents died, his dad, Metallicana took her in so from being her unofficial big brother, he became her legitimate adopted brother. People have always asked if there was ever a thing between them and some have even joked that they'd probably get married in the future but it's just too weird. He's her best friend/honorary brother/platonic life partner and she can't really see him as anything but that. They've lived together since college but recently, he's moved out of their tiny apartment to live with his girlfriend.
"How are you doing?" he asks as she takes the cup from his hand.
"Fine," she calmly says as she looks through a document codifying a five-year-old share transfer. "I'm fine. Just normal. In fact, I don't even know what all the fuss is."
She flips over another page to prove her point, only to knock the entire file to the floor.
Gajeel starts laughing, the piercings on his nose and ears glinting against the sun. Juvia always found it a marvel that the firm hired him despite his…unconventional appearance. But then again, he did graduate at the top of their class. Second to her, of course.
"What?" she says, shooting him a dirty look. Red-faced and embarrassed, she shoves all the papers back inside the folder and tries to take a dignified sip from her cup, only to grimace when the coffee scalds her tongue.
"Uh-huh," he smirks. "Good thing you're not being nervy or jumpy or anything."
"Yes," Juvia says, refusing to take the bait. "Isn't it?"
He grins at her, showing rows of sharp, white teeth.
"Yep." He ruffles her hair affectionately. "See you later, then."
He lifts his coffee cup, as if toasting her before walking off. Juvia taps her fingers against the desk and looks at her watch. Only nine o'clock. The meeting would have started at eight. And if they didn't dwell on it too much, she would probably know the decision by nine-thirty.
Oh, god she can't stand this.
For the rest of the morning, she does nothing but pace around her office, alternating between looking out the windows and surreptitiously reading through the mountain of contracts she has to look over. She's just read the same sentence for the seventh time in the row when her door suddenly bangs open. She looks up in annoyance and snippily says, "I'm fine, okay? Would you please just stop—''
She's cut off by Gajeel rushing towards her, lifting her up in a bear hug and spinning her around the room.
"You did it! Holy fuck, Jujubee you did it! They've made you partner!" he yells.
He's looking at her with the strangest mixture of affection and excitement and pride. For an instant, she can't breathe, dizzy from all of Gajeel's spinning. Outside, she's vaguely aware of the fact that people are staring at them, giving her thumbs ups and smiling stupid grins.
"What? But how—''
"You didn't hear it from me, okay?" Gajeel says, his face quickly creasing into a serious expression. He finally puts her down, ruffles her hair and gives her a quick wink. "Well done."
"Thank you…" she manages, leaning back against her desk. He gives her one last grin and says something about champagne as he strides out of her office.
But Juvia can't hear him. She's too busy trying silence her thoughts which are growing louder by the second.
She's made it.
Oh god.
She did it.
She's partner.
She suddenly has the urge to jump on her desk, pump her fist into the air and cry out "Yes!" but instead, she forces herself to remain still and calm. She'll tidy up her desk. Yes, that's exactly what she'll do. It's been getting rather messy since she's started on that Mishima deal. There's a mountain of papers on one side, a few folders teetering over a pile of books and several half-empty packets of Snickers and potato chips scattered about her desk.
She grabs the waste basket and after hauling all of the junk food into the bin, she begins to systematically sort through her papers. Every once in a while the word PARTNER would race across her thoughts like a glittering firework but just as quickly, she would sternly instruct herself to concentrate. She's about halfway through with clearing out her desk when a paper-clipped document falls to the floor. She grabs it and runs her eyes through the front page. It's a memo from Jose Porla.
Re Fearī Teiru Trust and Banking Co.,
Please find attached debenture for Marubeni.
Please attend to registration at Companies House.
With a practiced eye, she runs through the detail of the memo. Apparently, Fearī Teiru has agreed to loan around 50 million yen to Marubeni, a trading conglomerate and all she really has to do is to register the security document to the Companies House within twenty-one days. It should be easy enough and probably will only take her a day or two—
Her heart suddenly shudders.
The security document is dated November 3rd. That's five weeks ago. That can't be right.
Quickly, she flips through the papers, looking to see if there's a typo. There must be a typo—but the date is consistent throughout.
Oh god.
November 3rd.
She blinks at the document.
It can't possibly have been sitting in her desk for five weeks.
A cold feeling starts creeping up her chest.
If…if she's missed the deadline than that means…that means she failed to register the charge. She's exposed Fearī Teiru to an unsecured loan. She can't have possibly made such a basic mistake. She never misses a deadline.
She closes her eyes and tries to remain calm. It's the excitement of being partner that's addled her brain. She's probably looked at the dates all wrong or misread the memo or—
It says November 3rd.
There is no mistake.
Somehow, she wasn't able to attend to the memo and exposed Fearī Teiru to an unsecured loan. Without the charge being registered, this loan, this multi-million yen loan will be unsecured. She's made the most elementary mistake a lawyer can make. She presses her palms against her eyes and tries to think and remember if Jose said something about the deal to her. She can't even remember him mentioning it but then again, why would he go out of his way to mention something as simple as a registry? He would've assumed that she took care of it with little to no problem.
She flips through page after page, trying to find some sort of loophole she can abuse but the document is air-tight. She has no choice. She just has to own up to the fact that she's made a mistake and go through the excruciating process of telling Jose Porla and all the other partners about what she's done. She has to make a new document and worst of all, live with everyone knowing that she's done the simplest, stupidest error a trainee wouldn't even make.
As she switches her computer on and logs on to the Companies House website a tinny voice starts telling her that she might lose her partnership. But no—she can't think about that right now. The important thing is that she owns up to the mistake and sets about to fixing it right away. Anyway, as long as no other chargers have been registered against Marubeni, then it will all come to the same thing—
No.
It can't be.
There's a new debenture in Marubeni's charge register, securing the 50 million yen to some company called Obayashi. It was registered just two weeks ago. Fearī Teiru has been bumped down to the creditor's queue.
Oh god.
She's fucked up.
Big time.
She's put their client 50 million yen at risk.
"Juvia?"
"What?" she says, nearly leaping out of her chair.
It's Sue, one of the trainees. "Gajeel just let it slip. They're going to announce the whole thing this lunchtime."
The iciness starts moving from her chest all the way to her spine. They're about to announce that she's made partner. But partners don't make stupid errors like she just did. Partners don't put their client's money at risk.
"Shall I break out the champagne?" Sue asks.
"Er…yes…" Juvia says after a long moment of silence. She feels paralyzed, as if every muscle in her body has stopped functioning. This isn't good. She has to talk to someone right away. She has to do something about this now before even more charges are made. She has to…she has to tell Jose Porla.
"Bet you haven't come out of your high yet," Sue says conversationally.
"Right, right," Juvia mumbles, sweat beading her forehead. "Um…Sue, could you just give me a sec? I…I need to handle something."
"Oh, of course!" Sue says. "Just let me know if you need anything."
As she walks off, Juvia grabs the phone and begins to dial the number of their contact at Fearī Teiru. Hātofiria Lucy. Bile rises up her throat. This is the girl whom she'll have to admit her mistake to.
"Hātofiria Lucy," a perky voice chirrups at the end of the line.
"Yes, hi, this Rokusa Juvia of Fantomu Rōdo."
"Hi Juvia!" she responds. "How can I help?"
She tries to keep her voice from shaking. "I'm…I'm phoning about a technical matter regarding…Marubeni—''
"Oh that! Wow. So you've heard? News travels really fast," Lucy says.
"What?" Juvia mumbles in a small voice.
The room seems to shrink.
"That's why you're calling right? The receivers called in today. That last ditch attempt to save themselves obviously didn't work—''
Lucy continues to prattle on but Juvia can't hear her. She feels light-headed. Black spots are dancing in front of her eyes. Her chest feels tight and her hands won't stop shaking. They'll never draw up a new document now. It's over. She's lost Fearī Teiru fifty million.
With unsteady fingers, she puts the phone down, too anxious to worry about the fact that she had just done an incredibly rude action. She's fucked up.
She's fucked up and there's nothing she can do to fix it. As if on autopilot, she pushes her chair back and starts walking out of the building.
She walks past reception, barely knowing what she's doing. The only thing she can focus on right now is getting one foot in front of the other, trying to blend in the crowd full of busy office workers.
Except, she's not just a regular office worker is she?
The others who are walking past her haven't lost a client 50 million yen.
Fifty million.
The amount is like a drumbeat in her head.
She doesn't understand how this can happen. She knows that she keeps a messy desk but she's never missed a deadline before. She has a system. How could she have not seen…how could she have overlooked….It must have been put on her desk, then covered up with a pile of other papers.
One mistake.
That's all it took to ruin her career.
She wants to wake up and find out that it's all been a bad dream, that it's just happened to someone else, that it's a story she's listening to at a bar, agog, grateful that it wasn't her who supremely fucked up.
Her chest feels unbearably tight and a wave of nausea hits her. She leans back against one of the railings to steady herself.
Suddenly, her phone vibrates in her pocket and she jumps in terror. She takes it out and looks at the caller ID. It's Gajeel.
She continues to blankly stare at it, not knowing if she should answer or not.
Finally, the phone clicks into voicemail. She lifts the phone to her ear and presses 1 to listen.
"Juvia!" Gajeel's cheery voice booms through the speakers. "They're about to announce it! Where are you? We're all waiting with champagne at the conference hall."
Partner.
She wants to ball herself up in the ground and burst into tears. But she can't because the mistake is too big for tears. She thrusts the phone into her feet and begins to walk again, faster this time, weaving past pedestrians. Her head is pounding and she has no idea where she is going or what she's planning to do.
She walks for what seems like hours, her head in a daze, her feet moving blindly. The sun is beating down and the pavements are dusty and eventually, she realizes how exhausted she feels. She looks up trying to catch her bearings.
Somehow she's reached the train station.
Numbly, she walks past the entrance and tries to keep herself from flinching every time an announcement blares through the speakers. The fluorescent lights and air-conditioning are making her dizzier. She's just about to make her way to one of the seats when her phone vibrates again. She tries to ignore it but it doesn't stop ringing.
She hesitates, her heart beating with nerves, and then, she taps on the green phone icon to listen.
"For fuck's sake Juvia, what happened?"
He doesn't sound happy anymore. In fact, he sounds hassled and stressed.
"We know okay?" he says. "Hātofiria-san called again because apparently you just suddenly hung up. Fearī Teiru and the whole business with Marubeni...we know. You have to come back to the office. Now."
Prickles of dread start moving across her body.
"Juvia? Juvia?"
"Juvia…" she thickly swallows. Great. Her habit of speaking in third person is back. The last time this happened was when she had to take the bar exam.
"Hello? Hello? Jujubee? You there—''
She presses end.
She can't do it. She can't face everyone yet. She's too paralyzed with fright.
Everyone knows.
She needs to regroup. Yes, that's what she'll do. She'll go to the bathroom, splash some water on her face and then—
Shit. It's Totomaru, one of the associates and also the contact for Fearī Teiru. He's been in Hong Kong, if she can remember. Now he's striding along the concourse, wearing an expensive suit, a phone in his hand. His brows are knitted together and he looks angry.
"So where the fuck is she?" he snaps.
Shit. They're looking for her. She feels like some sort of criminal.
She needs to get out of his line of vision now. She scrambles out of her seat and hurries over to an area where there seems to be a big crowd of people. She's still trying to see where Totomaru is heading when someone says, "Miss? Miss?"
Juvia blinks at him.
"Would you like to buy a ticket?" he asks, annoyed.
And before she can stop herself, she says, "Yes."
She's only aware of her surroundings when someone taps her on the shoulder and asks if she'd like anything from the trolley full of snacks and drinks.
She jolts in her seat and tries to figure out where she is.
She's in a train…heading…well actually she doesn't know where it's heading. Vaguely, she remembers walking out of the office, obsessively turning over the mistake she's made again and again. She remembers muting her phone after Gajeel started calling her, saying that they've figured it out, that they've found the document in her desk. She remembers walking all the way to the train station and just wanting to get away from everything.
"Miss?" the train attendant says.
Juvia looks at him, as if in a daze and slowly shakes her head. He moves away, looking back to give her an odd look.
Her career is over.
The last person to commit such a mistake was Jin Hayami who lost a client a five million and she's lost ten times the amount. He was fired on the spot.
The familiar tightness gripping her chest comes back and she suddenly feels as if she has been smothered. Her mouth feels dry. Black spots are dancing in front of her eyes again. Nausea is rising up inside her. With shaking hands, she opens her phone for the first time since she's muted it.
Thirty messages.
She thickly swallows and opens one of Gajeel's messages.
Juvia where are you? We know, okay? Please come back so we can get this sorted out. The partners want—
Partner.
The tears which have refused expression this whole time suddenly pour down her cheeks in torrents. Forget about being a partner, she doesn't even have a chance at being a lawyer anymore. They'll surely fire her. Her career is ruined.
As she watches the landscape turn from tall buildings into suburbs and eventually, wide open spaces and fields, the iciness in her stomach grows colder and her entire body shakes. She calls the trolleyman for three small bottles of gin and some orange juice but when she tries to open a bottle, her fingers tremble so badly that she ends up spilling everything all over her black skirt. The trolleyman looks at her sympathetically and hands her a tissue and like a zombie, she dazedly wipes the mess off her skirt.
She feels weirdly disconnected from everything around her. She's made the biggest mistake of her career. She'll lose her job. She will never be a partner. One stupid mistake. That's all it took. But that's life, isn't it? It's usually just one thing. It only took one stupid car crash to take her parents away and turn her life in a jumbled mess.
Eventually more people enter the train and a nice old lady sits across her, opens a packet of chips and offers some to her.
"Traveling for business or fun?"
"Business," she says, more out of impulse than anything. Immediately, she regrets it, the dull throbbing in her chest intensifying. No, she'll probably never be able to travel for business ever again. Her career is ruined. The phrase repeats itself over and over in her head like a mantra.
Her heartrate increases and a bad, pounding headache starts to hammer from the back of her head. She puts a hand over her face, trying to block out the sunlight.
The lady continues to prattle on but it's just muted noise to Juvia. She knows she can't run forever but the idea of picking up the phone and calling Gajeel or anyone else is too unbearable for her. She can't do it. She can't face anyone yet.
Eventually someone taps her on the shoulder.
It's the old lady.
Juvia blinks at her.
"Dear, this is the last stop," she kindly says.
"What?" Juvia mumbles. Her voice sounds dry and creaky, as if it's been through centuries' worth of disuse.
"We're in Aomori," the woman helpfully says, gesturing at all the people gathering their bags and walking out to the train platform. Like an automaton, Juvia gets up and follows the rest of them out to a tiny, cramped country station. There's a small office across the road and from beyond it, she can catch glimpses of the sea.
"Dear, you need to come this way if you want to go all the way to the city proper. Or are you planning to go to one of the villages like Hiranai or Gonohe?" the old woman says, looking at Juvia with increasing concern.
"One of…one of the villages," she forces out.
"Which one?"
"Juvia….Juvia is not sure," she mumbles. The old lady guides her to one of the bus stations and Juvia gets on one at random, despite the old lady's protests. She gives a brief thank you and a bow before paying the fare and staggering off into one of the seats.
Her phone suddenly vibrates. It's Gajeel. Again. This must be the fiftieth time he's rung. And each message he's sent her has become increasingly panicked.
Where are you?
Juvia pick up the phone!
Please, just tell me where you are!
A swoop of guilt overtakes her. He must've been worried out of his mind, wondering if she's done something terrible to herself.
After a few deep breaths, she presses the tiny icon symbolizing talk and presses the phone to her ear.
"Juvia!" Gajeel says, not giving her a chance to speak. He sounds relieved. "Where are you?"
"Juvia…Juvia doesn't know. She had to get away. She…she went into a shock and she thinks…she means…she doesn't know…" Her voice breaks into a sob. "She think she's had a panic attack."
"Juvia," Gajeel's voice is kinder. "Where are you? I'll pick you up. We'll sort this out and—''
"No. No she can't face them yet—''
"You have to, Jujubee. Porla has been having damage limitation talks with Marubeni's lawyers and talking to Fearī Teiru and the insurers and—''
The insurers. For a brief moment, she's gripped by an exhilarating hope. If the insurers pay without making a fuss, maybe things won't be as bad as she thought.
"…and those damned insurers are causing a lot of trouble but we're pretty sure—''
Of course. Insurers never cough up the whole amount. Sometimes they don't cough up anything. Sometimes they pay up but only after raising their premiums to unfeasible levels.
"Where are you, Juvia? I'll pick you up right now!" Gajeel says.
"She…she doesn't know," she mumbles, looking out of the window. Outside, the sky is steadily growing darker. The bus is moving along a road that winds around the side of a cliff, with the sea lying in unbroken clam, speckled by a million fragments of the dying light at the opposite side. In the distance, there is a harbor, enclosed by a stone breakwater to the right and a little headland where tiny, white-washed huts stood under cherry blossom trees. There are one or two boats anchored by the harbor, painted baby blue with masts poking out of the misty twilight sky. There's something about the scene that seems vaguely familiar.
"What do you mean you don't—''
Her phone shuts down. It's dead. And she's left her charger at the office.
The bus suddenly stops and it takes about three shakes from the driver before she can muster up enough focus to walk out. With trembling legs, she begins to totter down the road, unaware of anything except the trees and the sound of the ocean waves breaking against the rocks.
She doesn't stop until she reaches a pair of tall carved marble pillars. It's a house.
As if suddenly aware of how exhausted she is, she rings the doorbell, hoping to use the phone and perhaps, ask if there's a hotel nearby.
When no one answers, she pushes the elaborate gate open and crunches over the gravel towards the heavy oak front door. It's a rather grand house made of honey-colored stone, set well back from the road and shaded with cherry blossoms trees. She raises a hand and tugs the bellpull.
Silence.
The whole house seems dead.
She's just about to give up and return to the road when a door swings open. A tall woman with an authoritative face and striking red hair peers at her and leans against the doorframe, raising a brow.
"Hello. Are you from the agency?"
Juvia has no idea what this woman is talking about.
But her head is hurting and her legs ache and she can barely look at her, let alone take in what she's saying.
"Are you all right?" she says. "You look terrible!"
"Juvia has a really bad headache," she mumbles, not caring anymore that she's speaking in third person. Then, suddenly remembering her manners, she makes a short bow. "Juvia is terribly sorry for intruding but could she possibly have a glass of water?"
"Of course! Of course, come in!" the woman says. She takes a step back and beckons Juvia into a huge, impressive hall with a vaulted ceiling. There's a circular marble table in the middle, bearing a vase full of huge, intense flowers.
"You'll want to see the house, anyway, I believe. I'm Sukaretto Erza by the way," she says as she strides down the halls. "You may simply call me Erza-san. I do despise formalities. Although I must say, I'm quite impressed with your outfit. The care in which you've put to dressing up for this interview is just amazing."
"Rokusa Juvia," Juvia distractedly replies, not sure what the woman is talking about.
Erza leads her down a short passage to a luxurious kitchen where she begins to root through the cabinets and drawers until she finally finds a small plastic box full of tablets. She hands an aspirin to Juvia before pouring her a glass of water.
"You have to excuse me. I'm afraid I'm the only one who can conduct the interview. As was mentioned in the brief your agency must have given you, Gray—Furubasuta-sama—has been…er…undergoing a very difficult time and he's been very uncooperative since he's gotten here. That's why his siblings sent him here to Oma," Erza conversationally says as Juvia downs the medicine.
She chokes on her water. Oma….Oma is all the way at the tip of Japan. She can't…she can't have possibly gone all the way here from Tokyo. And of all the places she had to get lost in, she ends up in her hometown.
Memories of her parents suddenly wash over her, bringing with them a new wave of nausea.
"All better?" Erza asks.
"Yes," she replies, thickly swallowing. "Juvia is so grateful. She's just had the most terrible headache. It's so bad she can barely think straight."
"Oh, dear. Does that mean we have to move the interview?" Erza asks.
"Interview?" Juvia says. "Juvia doesn't—''
"Of course, it's better to get it over with as quickly as possible," Erza says as she sweeps Juvia out of the kitchen and into the hall.
"This is the drawing room by the way," she says before Juvia can respond. She gestures around the large, grand room that is decorated with paintings, lamps, ornaments and several lush, velvet sofas. "As you'll see, there's quite a lot of vacuuming…dusting…polishing. You'll do it all alone but the salary we're offering is more than enough to compensate, I expect."
She stares at Juvia, as if waiting for a reply.
"Right," Juvia responds uncertainly, unsure of why Erza has just begun telling her about the housework and why she's looking at Juvia as if she is expecting her to say something else.
"That's…that's a beautiful painting," Juvia offers at last.
"Yes. It's an ukiyo-e. A genuine Hokusai. So be very careful when dusting it," Erza says.
"Of course," Juvia says, nodding more out of confusion than anything else.
"Can you make a good Bloody Mary?" Erza asks as she leads Juvia into the next room.
"Er…no?"
"Oh well, no matter! I'll just have to teach you," she says. They continue on through the whole house with Erza blabbering on and on about housework. As they trail the first floor, she keeps pointing out things that need special dusting and polishing, and how careful one has to be with the soft furnishings and the silk drapes. They eventually go upstairs where a large painting of three people peers at her. There's a woman with pale skin and dark hair in the middle, flanked by two serious-looking men at both sides, one with silver hair and the other with black.
"Where did you last work?" Erza asks.
"Tokyo," Juvia replies. She's about to add Fantomu Rōdo but she can't even bear to say the words.
"Did you work full-time there?"
"I did," Juvia says.
"What sort of hours did you work?" Erza says, looking at her with sudden interest.
"All hours," she shrugs. "Juvia is used to working all day and sometimes into the night."
Erza looks absolutely stunned. People really have no idea what the life of a lawyer is like.
"You used to work through the night?" she says, stupefied. "On your own?"
"Me and the other staff. Whoever was needed."
"You come from a big set-up, then?" Erza asks, looking impressed.
"One of the biggest in the whole of Tokyo," Juvia says.
"Well, you'll find that we're far more relaxed here! Of course, Gray is difficult to deal with sometimes but it's understandable given what just happened to him. And it's only me and him and well, you of course, so you won't have to launder and cook for so many people. My fiancé, Jellal comes but only every weekends. Sometimes, Lyon and Ultear visit but that's very rare," Erza babbles. She gestures at a shut door. "This is the master bedroom. He went to sleep early so we shouldn't disturb him."
Then, she opens another door to a room filled with swishy curtains, a large bed and matching-colored upholstered ottomans. "This is my room. If you need anything, don't hesitate to knock!"
Juvia looks at her blankly, utterly confused.
"And oh, here we are! Staff accommodation," Erza says, opening the door to a plainer room. The walls are pale and the curtains less ornate but the bed looks just as lush and soft as the one in Erza's room. As Erza talks about the crisp, white bed linens, Juvia fights the overwhelming urge to lie down on it and sink into oblivion.
"So…that's the whole house. Shall we postpone the interview or move on with it? You do seem a little better now," Erza says, eyes narrowing to inspect Juvia's face closely. "And you've dressed up for it so smartly too that it would be a shame for us to postpone."
"Interview?" Juvia says.
Erza raises her brows. "Interview for the housekeeping position we've set up. That's what you're here for, right?"
"Juvia doesn't—''
"Your role will comprise of all cleaning, laundry and cooking. You will wear a uniform and maintain a courteous and respectful—''
Juvia stares at Erza, poleaxed. She can't…she can't possibly believe that Juvia is applying to be their housekeeper. She opens her mouth to say something but she is too dumbfounded to speak.
"…full board and lodging," Erza continues. "And you get four weeks holiday a year and all weekends off of course, unless we have a party or something but then you will be fully compensated by getting another day of the regular week off."
Juvia looks at the room, trying to catch her bearings. They think she's a housekeeper. A housekeeper! She needs to set things right this instant. She needs to tell them that she's a lawyer and that she simply got lost and just needs directions to the nearest hotel. But another wave of wooziness hits her before she can clear the misunderstanding up and she has to sit on the bed to steady herself. The softness of the mattress hits her and she's suddenly gripped with the unbearable desire to lie back and take a long, deep sleep.
"Um…could Juvia possibly stay here for the night?" she stupidly asks.
Erza looks surprised. "Start now, you mean? Now, let's not get ahead of ourselves, Juvia. We've had a few promising applicants for this post. One girl even had a diploma in French Cordon Bleu cookery!"
Something inside Juvia stiffens, like an automatic reflex. Is she suggesting—Is she implying that Juvia might not get the job? She regards Erza silently, feeling a tiny flicker of the old Juvia returning. She can beat some French Cordon Bleu Cookery girl. She's passed every interview in her life. She's not about to start failing.
"Juvia has also gone to French Cordon Bleu. In fact, she trained under Michel…" She struggles to think of a French name. Or a French word. "…de la Escargot."
Erza narrows her eyes. "Michel…de la Escargot? ''
Juvia authoritatively nods her head. "His name speaks for himself, I believe."
Erza looks embarrassed at not knowing who he is.
"Absolutely!" she says in a too-loud voice.
Ten minutes later, the two of them are sitting in the drawing room where Erza is firing a series of questions that sound like they come from a WikiHow article on how to hire a housekeeper. And Juvia's answering every single one with total confidence. At the back of her mind, she can hear a voice that sounds suspiciously like Gajeel telling her to stop but she's not listening. Somehow, she's managed to block out her real life, the mistake, her ruined career, the whole nightmare of a day. She's fucked everything up but she can still ace this interview. She can still prove to herself that she's not a total fuck-up.
"Could you give me a sample menu?"
Despite the little pain that shoots across her chest, her mother's dishes come rushing back to her and Juvia rattles them off confidently, "Kushikatsu as the main along with some Soki, and perhaps some Ikura as the sides and Dangojiru for the soup."
Erza nods, looking impressed.
"What about some French dishes?"
"French dishes?"
"You did school at Cordon Bleu right?"
"Er…right." Again, Juvia attempts to come up with a French sounding name. It didn't matter what as Erza herself doesn't look like she knows too much about the language or even the culture. If she can just find a French word or a phrase or a…
"Er..an Eiffel. Juvia will cook an Eiffel as the main—''
"But isn't that the tower?" Erza interrupts.
"It's also a delicious meat dish," Juvia says confidently. "And some er….escargot soup and baguettes and for desert….gelato."
"But…but that's Italian," Erza says.
Juvia raises a brow. "But surely you know gelato originated in France?"
Erza's face reddens and she embarrassedly shakes her head. "No…I didn't know that, I'm sorry."
She then smoothens her skirt and grins at her. "Well…to be frank Juvia…I'm very impressed with your credentials. But I just need one more thing. I'm sure you have a reference, right Juvia?"
"Reference?"
Erza frowns slightly. "We will need a reference."
"Reddofokksu Gajeel," she promptly says, in sudden inspiration. "Heis a lawyer. I've been associated with him for years. He will vouch for me. Juvia often cooked her specialty, eggs benedict, for him."
Erza is pulling what she must assume to be a cryptic face but she might as well have "You're hired!" tattooed on her forehead.
"Oh, but one more thing. You will be answering the phone while me and Gray will be out. Gray is a very important man and his image in society is very important. If you can just please demonstrate how you will do it?" Erza says.
Juvia looks at her, stupefied. She can't be serious can she? Except, she totally is.
"You should say, 'Good afternoon, the Furubasuta residence'," Erza prompts.
With a barely restrained sigh, Juvia gets up, walk across the room and lifts up the phone.
"Good afternoon," she says in her most charming, student president tones. "The Furubasuta Residence, how may I help you?"
Erza nods her head, smiling as if she's just won a million dollars.
Author's Note: So, I'm back again, ready to finish those 30 fic requests! Another maid AU was requested and since I've gotten lots of message expressing approval and a desire for more Sophie Kinsella-flavored gruvia fics, I decided to make one inspired by Undomestic Goddess. If this seems familiar, it's because it's supposed to be! This came from the 30 Fics Celebratory thing I was doing in tumblr and the prompt was a maid au. I was supposed to make this include this in my collection of other oneshots but it got too long. Depending on how I decide to cut it (because right now, it's just one, absurdly, long oneshot), it might be three to seven chapters long. Will update weekly.