ii.
—
It's possible they've all had the same feeling, even before the night's passing. There was never going to be any orphanage. Nobody probably has any real doubts this is going to unfold into the most entertaining thing that has happened since…ever.
Viska and Alzack donate everything their little girl has out grown. A grocery list has been made. Everyone has volunteered to do something. This is a village. Here is the child.
Erza helps bring in bags of diapers, wipes, formula, every kind of ridiculous noise maker and stuffed animal Mira felt compelled to grab off the shelves at the toy store. The little one, all smiles and screeching with the circle of attention it has while the women take turns holding her, is quickly becoming everyone's personal treasure.
And, openly staring from across the room like a hawk, is Luxus.
"Have you even had to change any diapers yet?" Erza asks, throwing him a box of wipes. He blinks at it and shrugs.
"Mira helped me last night. It was just as gross as I figured it would be."
"But you didn't actually do anything."
"…I handed her the powder."
"Mmm. Your bravery is unprecedented."
He sighs and looks away, a little less than what she was prepared for him to do. Her eyes soften.
"We're all here to help, but you're going to have to learn some things if this is something you're seriously undertaking."
There will be no orphanage. Erza has lived all of the days she cares to remember under the protection of the guild. Luxus probably already senses her bias.
He glances over at the women, the child getting fussy. Probably hungry again. Erza watches him move to do his job. The details of which are still fuzzy. He at least knows it includes being there.
He is huge, standing with girls and glaring when they laugh and blushing by the time he turns back to look at Erza, narrow line of a mouth begging.
"Help me."
So she gets a better grip on her bags and follows, wondering if he even knows how to burp her yet.
He doesn't. The baby christens him with his first puke. It's disgusting, he's sure, though he can't see it. He makes faces. His hands, however, support her head with the shaky gentleness of caution and inexperience.
Erza wipes the back of his clothes while he hums something that rolls like thunder.
—