Hi guys! i wrote my first oneShot! I hope its okay!
usually i do nalu, but i think gruvia is cute too.
Okay enjoy! And review and fav and stuff please!
-Radish
The Tears that Fall in the Snow
Winter was the worst season.
He hated it. No, he despised it.
He never felt the cold physically. While everyone else wore layers and layers to keep warm, he didn't need anything that he didn't wear usually- pants, and sometimes his shirt. He had an odd habit of stripping randomly, but usually he could keep it under control. He dared not think what people would say if big, bad CEO Fullbuster started stripping in the meeting room.
The cold always hit him mentally. When the snow fell, and the world was a beautiful, pristine white, he would only see crimson. The snow would be red, stained with the life of his mother, as it fell silently onto the land. He would turn away, sick to his stomach, when kids ran past with their mouths open, eagerly catching those blood-red snowflakes.
They fell, so quietly. Without a sound. To be gone without a trace, their beauty and intricacy so short-lived. Like people, he would always think morbidly.
Malicious. Greedy. Needy.
Winter did that to him. Made him depressed and unstable.
He despised it.
"Next Stop, Fairy Hills."
Gray glanced at his watch. Taking the stupid bus was going to make him late. He still had around six more stops, with only five minutes till nine, when work starts. Now the flame-brain (he practically burned paper in his free time) would never let him hear the end of it.
Stupid car. It was time to get a new one that didn't freeze up so easily.
He leaned back, frustrated. There was nothing he could do about it now. He smoothed out the wrinkle in his navy blue shirt and crossed his arms in front of him, quietly observing his fellow bus-mates on this unfortunate, depressing day.
He's been wearing blue every day for a month now to reflect how blue he felt on the inside. Goddamned weather.
There was a huge, muscled man standing in front of him with a head of white hair, thankfully blocking out the windows on the other side, so he couldn't see the snow. Probably works out like crazy.
Beside him stood a busty, leggy blonde who was checking her phone and giggling every once in a while. He checked her out from head to toe, finding her attractive, but figured that she was probably just a dumb blonde. Texting her boyfriend or her friends.
Another grumpy-looking guy with too many studs and unruly, spiky hair was staring out the window with concentration, as if he could develop telepathic abilities just by staring. Looking for someone outside?
Gray looked down at the floor sullenly. These people will one day just become a pile of dirt in the ground, meaningless like the life they lived. He wondered why he even bothered to come to work. The richest people and the poorest people all die the same, disappearing till no one even remembers their name.
Why do they smile? Why do they act as if they have a purpose? He shoved those questions away. Winter mornings were not good for thinking. Hell, mornings were not good for thinking in general.
"Next Stop, Magnolia Hospital." The blonde walked toward the door, still looking at her phone and still smiling like a fool.
He himself hasn't dated in a long while. He wasn't bad-looking, he knew. His body was well-toned and his face young and handsome. And he had brains as well, unlike that stupid pyromaniac co-worker. But within that resided an old man, a soul that has seen too much and been through too much.
They said he was cold as ice, chilling like the winter that he hated so much. Never a smile, never any affection. Even good looks couldn't make up for that. So the girls always dumped him after a while, not that he really cared. He never loved any of them anyway.
They would never understand why.
He sighed and closed his eyes. Only four stops left in this miserable journey. Then he could hide in his office and waste his day until he would have to make this trip again. At home, he could relax and watch some TV, drink some alcohol, and think, instead of going through this meaningless routine called life.
His head hurt.
"Excuse me, can Juvia sit here?"
He cracked open one eye to see a woman staring down at him. She had blue hair that ended in huge curls at her shoulders and red-rimmed eyes. She's been crying. Her clothes looked like that of a nun's: simple and covering everything worth looking at. What's this? A cosplayer?
The raven closed his eyes again and nodded imperceptibly. He sensed that she didn't sit down. He opened his eyes warily and sighed for the hundredth time that morning. The woman was staring into space, probably thinking about whatever had made her cry.
"Hey," he croaked, and then cleared his throat, startling the blue-haired girl considerably, for she gave a frightened little yelp. He noticed she was crying silently.
She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and smiled at him. "Ah—thank you very much, sir!" She took her seat next to the stoic man as he made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat and looked away from that smile.
People like him don't deserve smiles and thanks, only blank stares and loneliness.
He glanced at his watch. It was five past nine.
Dammit.
He saw her every day from that frozen day on.
His stupid car was old and still broken, so he bought a bus pass and decided to take the stupid bus for the rest of the stupid season. The bus was always late, making him always late, but the pink-haired idiot at his office never cared. He was too busy smiling into his phone and exchanging sickeningly sweet words with his girlfriend.
Whatever.
Though Gray sometimes wondered how that dumbass got a girl in the first place. Who in her right mind would date that guy?
He was joined by the rest of his bus clan almost every day: the buff guy, the blonde, the studded guy (and sometimes his tiny little bookworm girlfriend), and the crybaby bluenette. They didn't talk with one another, but they always acknowledged their fellow clan members.
The nun girl would always get on the bus with tears in her eyes. Sometimes serious waterworks. But she always smiled at him and always sat beside him despite the many empty seats.
For the first few days, he was annoyed. Why would anyone forsake the space and freedom of an empty row to herself for his company? He never said anything to her that was more than a syllable, but she always greeted him in the most cheerful way possible, even if tears were just on the verge of falling.
When he grew used to her presence, however, he found her interesting. She was a pretty woman, with large, expressive eyes and a warm smile, yet she dressed in the most conservative way possible. Her nun clothes covered from her neck down to her toes, though Gray couldn't help but notice appreciatively the curve of her breasts, the narrow waist, and the nice hips.
But she always cried.
He never asked her why, or attempted to comfort her in anyway. Every day, he hums at her once and she sits down, greets him, and continues to weep quietly. It seems that all of the other riders are too engaged in their own business to notice the crying girl.
He felt pretty bad for her. For her to cry every day like that, something must've happened to her.
Eventually, one day when she smiled at him, he smiled back.
"Juvia loves the snow!"
Gray turned to her, startled. Had she spoken? It was the first time she had said something in the middle of the bus ride. They had exchanged names some days ago, but that was pretty much all. She looked embarrassed at her outburst.
The huge man wasn't on the bus that day, so the view of the scarlet snow was not blissfully hidden from sight. For most of the bus ride, now, he'd been staring at the floor hatefully, wishing that he were at home with the blinds drawn and a bottle of booze. He supposed that the woman beside him had sensed his obvious discomfort and was attempting in her own way to distract him.
Little did she know that the snow was the source of his pain.
"Hm." He grunted, irritated, and returned to his fierce staring contest with the floor of the bus.
"Well," she continued awkwardly with a sidelong glance at him, "Juvia thinks the snow is quite beautiful. It's so peaceful and it envelopes the land warmly, like a mother tucking in a child… and it's so deliciously cold!" She shivered in delight, as if imagining herself frolicking in the snow outside instead of sitting in a bus, talking to a complete stranger.
Gray stared hard at this woman with the third-person way of speaking. Was she nuts? Couldn't she see this blood? Oh right. I'm the crazy one.
"You don't know what you're talking about," he growled, then promptly closed his eyes and tried to sooth this headache he kept having recently. It always came with the snow.
He felt her stiffen a little, then relax. He opened his intense, dark eyes again. "Juvia thinks Gray-sama doesn't like the snow," She stated softly. "She feels that he has darkness here." She put her hand over an ample bosom, signifying her heart.
He scoffed. "Darkness? What would you know about it?"
She flinched suddenly at the question and mumbled something while looking down. Gray was afraid that he'd been too harsh, but couldn't find it inside him to apologize. She'd touched on a sensitive topic.
When she looked up, her eyes were too bright, yet overshadowed by some unpleasant thought. "Juvia… Knows more about it than Gray-sama cares to think." Her answer was edgy but strong as she peered at Gray anxiously, gauging his reaction.
He shrugged and looked away, noticing that his stop was approaching. He stood up and, looking at the tearful woman, smiled and gave a small wave as he stepped off the bus.
Whether he cared to admit it or not, he liked talking to her. It broke the monotonous rhythm of life. The edges of his lips twitched upward at the thought of tomorrow and he strolled into the office with new-found energy, where he found his pink-haired coworker holding hands with the blondie from the bus.
The next day, the bus ride was quite awkward.
The good-looking blonde was called Lucy and decided to join him and Juvia's conversations. She was very talkative, a little too talkative for his liking. She said enough for all of them to share. However, it was clear that she was well-read and not some brainless blonde like he'd assumed at first. How the idiot managed to get this girl was quite beyond him.
Juvia was clearly not enjoying Lucy's company, judging by the dark looks she aimed in the blonde's direction and the dark mutters. Every time the girl laughed at the sarcastic gruff comments he occasionally made, Juvia would scoot a little closer to him, until he was practically being squished into the next seat. Her antics were amusing, but got a little uncomfortable after a while.
Thank goodness the blonde was moving in with his coworker, so she would no longer be a part of the daily sights that greeted him and Juvia (though he would be a little disappointed to never see those legs again).
They continued their original conversation the day after Lucy left.
He noticed that she'd stopped crying on the bus and smiled more since they'd started talking. Heck, he figured that even he probably opened up a bit as well. It snowed red everyday, but his headaches had gradually lessened until they only popped up occasionally.
"What were you saying last time about darkness here?" He mockingly put a hand to his chest, smiling.
She blushed in that cute way of hers that he noticed more often these days. A pretty pink flush to her cheeks and a few incoherent mumbles upon her heart-shaped lips.
He found himself staring, unable to tear his eyes away from her face, with those big, bright eyes looking at him in that way, and her blue curls framing them perfectly. Her eyes were just a little red. He thought, not for the first time, that whoever made this beautiful girl cry was a piece of dog crap.
"Why do you cry, Juvia?"
Before he could stop himself, he cupped her face in his hand, bringing her face up to his. Her skin was soft and smooth, and he realized with a jolt (literally) that this was the first skin-to-skin contact they'd had.
She flinched and pulled away violently and looked in the other direction as he mumbled some apology.
He knew she was crying without having to look at her face.
He was more depressed than he would admit as he sat on the bus, alone in his row, once again wearing that navy blue shirt in his depression.
Juvia hadn't showed up for a couple of days, and the snow seemed only to have increased in volume, as if sensing the absence of his anchor. His headache was back too as he groaned and massaged his temples.
Dammit. It was his entire fault.
He blamed himself to touching her face so impulsively. And now, Gray Fullbuster was on the list of Jerks and Dog Craps of Magnolia.
He looked out the window.
Piles of scarlet lay at the sides of the roads and he thought about how Ur had died on a day just like this: cold, with snowdrifts and ice lining the road. Only, back then, the snow was white.
And he loved it.
"Gray, wait up!"
"Haha, Lyon, I'll bet you can't catch me!"
"Come back! The light is green!"
The car honked frantically as he froze in the headlights, petrified. He could see the license plate, of the driver's frightened expression as he slammed on the brakes. The wheels locked, and all that could be heard was the sharp screech of the tires on the slippery snow.
"GRAY!"
He was thrown to the side as he heard a sickening thud. The snow was stained crimson under his mother's still form.
"Ur? UR? MOM?!"
The car drove away as quickly as it came, eager to escape the scene. Just another hit-and-run in the city that day.
He'd stood in the red snow for hours, till his fingers turned blue and his lips turned purple. Those tears froze on his young face as he just stood there, staring.
The police and the ambulance gave him some hot water and a blanket and told him to go inside.
He didn't say a word.
"Gray-sama?"
He looked up from his flashback, eyes glassy. Juvia took a step back, as if frightened by him.
"Juvia?" His voice was barely more than a whisper and his eyes were unfocused.
She nodded and sat down next to him, without her usual peppy greeting. "Gray-sama, are you unwell?" She looked worried.
"Nah," he shook his head and cleared his thoughts. When he looked at her again, his eyes were sharp and intense like usual.
"Juvia thought she saw," she hesitated slightly, "red snow reflected in Gray-sama's eyes…" Her eyebrows furrowed as she contemplated her discovery. Then she shook her head and smiled at him. "Ah, she was probably just imagining things! Juvia has all sorts of funny things up in her head!" The laugh was forced and Gray suddenly noticed a bruise on the side of her face as she habitually brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
He fixed her with a searching look. A whole stop passed by before he ripped his eyes from her face. Only four stops left.
"Who hit you, Juvia?" He growled, fists bunching at his sides.
She gave a violent start and pulled the strand of hair back, hiding the bruise once more. Her eyes were wide and scared, and her mouth fell open into a small "o".
Then her eyes hardened suddenly at the look in his eyes. "Juvia is strong! She doesn't need sympathy or pity or worry!" She cried with a wild abandon, making the studded guy look up in surprise. Tears were flowing freely now and her voice was shaking uncontrollably.
Gray's heart clenched when he saw her tears again. He was about to mutter an apology before he stopped himself. He grit his teeth and managed to control his anger enough to form words. When he spoke again, his voice was a husky rumble.
"You don't deserve this." Two stops left.
"Leave Juvia alone in her sorrows and pains! She can handle him…" She nearly hissed at Gray, but he could read the fear, plain upon her face. Her pretty features were contorted by it.
"Juvia." She stood up stiffly.
"JUVIA!" The bus doors opened.
"HEY, JUVIA, WAIT!"
She looked back at him with tears in her eyes. "Goodbye, Gray-sama. Do not worry about Juvia! She is a strong woman…"
And the door closed, shutting him off from her smile.
He often wondered why he didn't chase after her.
Why he didn't help her.
Why he let her go.
He hugged the bottle to his chest and remembered that last time he saw her.
He didn't want to cry anymore, but it was impossible not to.
Not after he knew that Juvia Lockser died that evening from a broken neck after being shoved down the stairs in their apartment by her abusive boyfriend.
Turns out, her body was covered with bruises of every shape and size, hidden under those concealing clothes.
That evening, he wept when he saw her face on the news, smiling in a tank top.
Juvia who loved the bloody snow. Juvia got on the bus every day at nine am. Juvia who spoke in third-person.
Juvia who cried and smiled and blushed and laughed and told him not to care.
Juvia who's gone.
That night, the snow fell silently, red as blood.