Chapter 04: Seriously, Why Are We Not There Yet?

A sliver of sunlight shone on her face and Erza woke up with a small start. Stretching, she peered through the curtains and bit back a startled exclamation when she realized how late it was. She usually woke up at sunrise, whether she could see the sun or not. It wasn't on purpose and maybe it was a habit left over from when she was forced to rise early as a child, but anything that made the night shorter was fine by her.

But today, by her estimation, it was mid-morning and she felt unusually refreshed, which was odd, considering how draining yesterday was. No jerking awake, tearing herself out of nightmares filled with twisted smiles and insane laughter. It was something she'd let herself get used to, if she was certain it would continue.

Pacing the length of the car and preparing for the day, she glanced at Mirajane, wrapped tightly in her blanket and breathing gently. She didn't know whether the other girl was a heavy sleeper or not, but feeling oddly considerate (yesterday night could've gone a lot worse than it had), she snuck out quietly and made her way to the dining car, intent on finding food.

Remembering Mirajane barely touched her dinner yesterday evening, she placed an order for three stacks of pancakes. The maitre'd wrinkled his nose a little bit at the request, as if pancakes were below him. Or it might've been the fifteen pancakes she just ordered. Erza ignored him; a hungry Mirajane was a grumpy, almost insane Mirajane, and she'd rather not deal with that.

(Once, when Mirajane returned from a training trip, she was so hungry, she devoured other people's food when the kitchen couldn't keep up with her orders. Erza's strawberry shortcake had been one of the casualties, and she had been ready to wreak vengeance before Elfman explained with embarrassment that Take Over spells sometimes burned through their magic too quickly, so they needed to consume large amounts of food to recover. Mirajane had been training too hard, thus she was kind of loopy and desperate. Or, he amended, as they watched his sister reveal a mouthful of splintery, jagged teeth, maybe she was getting used to a new form. Either reason, she had been eating almost everything edible in sight and about ready to gnaw on the tables.)

Loitering at the entrance of the dining car and studiously ignoring everyone's glances, Erza was relieved when the maitre'd finally presented her with a tray piled high with pancakes and a tankard of syrup. As she began to leave for her car, though, she twitched slightly when she saw the brunette from yesterday evening. The young woman just beamed at her, but her eyes tracked down to the tray. Before she could ask, Erza said quickly, "I'm just bringing this back to my car. Most of it's for... for her." She didn't feel comfortable labeling Mirajane, even if it would be a fake label.

The brunette smiled, enthused to be talking to her idol but clearly resigned to the fact she wouldn't be able to keep Erza to herself. "You're just as considerate as I imagined you'd be." She laughed sheepishly. "I suppose if someone looked at me adoringly like she did with you, I'd be bringing them breakfast in bed too."

Erza smiled uneasily. Mirajane had proved to be as good as she said at misleading people yesterday night. Furthermore, she skillfully pulled Erza into her charade. By herself, Erza wasn't sure she'd be able to act convincingly. Improvisation definitely wasn't her area of expertise, though the young woman didn't seem to notice her discomfort. "So are the two of you on vacation? Headed to Straelen for some sightseeing?"

Erza hesitated. On her own, she normally was very open about her jobs. If a particular mission needed discretion, she would've never ventured out of her room in the first place. Mirajane obviously worked differently, going out in public but pretending not to be herself. Her methods were risky and confusing and once again, Erza felt a tick of irritation. But for now, she'd be vaguely honest and hope for the best. "We're going to Straelen for the tournament."

The brunette's eyes widened and obviously nonplussed, she asked, "The Einsatz Tournament? I thought only official members of the mage families were allowed to participate."

Wait, what?

The young lady continued talking, oblivious to Erza's internal confusion. "...Unless you're sponsored by one of them. Oh, I bet you are, aren't you?" Her voice became low and confidential. "I don't know whether you realize, but most families prefer their bastards to fight in their stead. It's quite the honor for an outsider to be sponsored."

Legitimacy? Sponsorship? Neither Mirajane nor Lisanna's report mentioned anything about those kinds of entry requirements. If this brunette was correct, that meant there was no way for her or Mirajane to enter the tournament on their own. Why didn't the other girl say anything? Just how much was she hiding? The perpetual flicker of aggravation Erza felt towards Mirajane was rapidly turning into anger, and she listened blankly as the woman chattered on. She finally snapped to attention when her fan hinted, "I suppose you can't tell me who your sponsor is, can you?"

Erza mustered a stiff smile and murmured, "Quite right. If you'll excuse me, the food's getting cold." She darted around the young lady and left.

She barely remembered the walk back to their car. It was a loss of control, a dangerous lack of awareness, and should've been terrifying, but Mirajane so easily and so frequently drove her into a state of blind rage that Erza was resigned to it at this point. She slammed open their door, ready to tear her so-called teammate out of bed. But she was gone, and Erza could hear the water running in the bathroom.

Carefully setting down the tray of pancakes (food was never to be wasted), Erza paced the length of the car, making the beds and tidying up as she waited for Mirajane to come out of the bathroom. (It was one of their unspoken agreements. There had to be some boundaries and the bathroom was as good as any.) All the while, even as she folded sheets and organized papers, she carefully nurtured her anger, not willing to let it die but stepping away just enough to be coherent. She needed Mirajane to understand just how furious she was. Stuttering, berserk wrath would only make her laugh.

When Mirajane finally exited the bathroom, her face still damp and a towel around her neck, she took one look at Erza and said wryly, "What's the matter, Red? Woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning?"

Ignoring the jibe, Erza just looked at her. Mirajane scowled and tried again. "You look like you just realized you overpaid for all your swords and worse, all the sellers have fled the country. Seriously, wha-"

Erza cut her off bluntly. "When were you going to tell me that we needed a sponsor for the tournament?"

All signs of playfulness vanished from Mirajane's face. "Where'd you hear that?"

"I overheard some people talking when I went to the dining car." Erza didn't mention the brunette, unwilling to give Mirajane a chance to distract her.

Her flat voice was beginning to get to Mirajane, who frowned in mock concern. "I thought you were scared to go back there. You practically begged not to eat there any-"

At those words, Erza felt that rush of anger again and before she could stop herself, she growled, "I was getting food!" She gestured violently at the pancakes, unnoticed until now and no longer warm. "You didn't eat at all yesterday."

A startled look flickered across Mirajane's face, then her eyes began to soften. It was almost enough to make Erza's resolve waver, but fortunately, Mirajane stopped herself. Her expression grew fierce as she said, "I never asked you to do that."

Erza tried not to laugh in disbelief at her hypocrisy. "So all your talk about working together was just that, then? You're worse than I am. At least I know teammates should take care of each other. And you're the one who said teammates shouldn't keep secrets! Especially if it's related to the job!" To her chagrin, she was shouting. She caught her breath and her temper and shook her head. "I'm doing my best, Mirajane, but there's no point unless you meet me halfway."

Mirajane had endured her tirade until that point, maintaining an increasingly scornful facade, as if she found Erza pathetic for losing her temper. But all expression vanished at Erza's quieter words and after a long moment, she said, "You're right."

And for the second time that morning, Erza was caught off-guard. Judging by her slight smile, Mirajane was definitely aware of Erza's shock, but she acted as if she wasn't. "You're right, and I'm sorry. And you don't need to worry about the sponsorship. It'll be taken care of."

Throwing her towel into a corner, she sat down in front of the pancakes and waited for Erza to slip into the other chair, not as smooth as she should've been. And of course Mirajane had to notice that too, but again, she didn't make mention of it. With an infuriating smirk, she prodded, "Well, did you have anything else you wanted to talk about?" She ripped a large chunk out of a pancake with her teeth.

Erza narrowed her eyes, still upset but unwilling to let this opportunity pass. She mulled over all her questions, choosing to put aside the issue of sponsorship for now, even though Mirajane's answer had been far from satisfactory. "I know you've been doing A-class missions for a while now. Why hasn't that woman heard of you?"

Mirajane raised an eyebrow. "She's not that much older than us, you know. And let's face it, we understand more about how the world works than she ever will."

Erza didn't want to get off-topic, but this was always a sore point for her. "That may be true, but you should still treat her courteously." No matter the age, power, or rank, everyone should be given some measure of respect.

Mirajane looked at her shrewdly. "Never said otherwise, Red. You saw me yesterday. I was very polite."

"Yes, you were so polite, you interrupted our conversation and blatantly laid claim on..." Erza couldn't continue. She should've thought it out more before speaking.

Mirajane finished for her with a wide, snarky grin. "Laid claim on you? Marked my territory? Asserted my right to your-"

Erza cut her off. She was blushing and they both knew it. "We're getting distracted. Give me answers."

Mirajane let it go, though she was still smirking. "I come back to the guild as myself, which is what you see." She drew her hands across her body with a sly grin. Then she shifted and suddenly a very large man was in her place, rolls of flesh spilling over the chair. The she folded in on herself and then she was a middle-aged housewife. A wink, then she settled in her chair as an incredibly non-descript man. In a light tenor voice, she said, "But I do my missions under different personas."

Erza was fascinated despite herself. "How many of those do you have?"

"You name it and I'll do it. I'm one of the best shifters out there, Tinhead." Mirajane flickered in and out of several more shapes before finally returning to her own with a cocky grin.

Erza refrained from rolling her eyes. "And your Take Over forms?"

The grin fell. "Not as many as I should have, thanks to you." Mirajane scowled at Erza, obviously still disgruntled about the whole job-stealing, grimoire-destroying fiasco.

"Do you even use them on missions? When we fought in front of all the guilds, even Master Markarov was a little surprised by all the Take Over forms you cast." Erza was getting a little weary of Mirajane's grudge. What did she want her to do? Get her another copy of the Ars Goetia?

Mirajane ignored her question, tearing through another pancake. "Were you surprised?"

"Not as much as I could've been. I've... watched you train a few times before." She waited for a reaction to her confession of spying.

She was almost disappointed when Mirajane only shrugged matter-of-factly. "Just as well. It could've gone a lot worse for you if you had been completely clueless."

Erza gritted her teeth, but didn't disagree. Mirajane had a good understanding of her armory. Erza, on the other hand, knew very little about Mirajane's Take Over forms before that fight. If she hadn't already had an idea of what to expect, she probably would've lost.

"Anyways, to answer your question - I do use Take Over on the job, but I make sure there are no witnesses." Mirajane bared her teeth in a sinister smile.

"So much for that now. You're on everybody's radar." Erza said dryly. Markarov might've been surprised, but other guildmasters had been absolutely flabbergasted. Added to the fact that the press had been there, and Mirajane suddenly became one of the hottest topics in the area. The local media had gone crazy over her, smitten by her good looks and bad girl attitude. If she had continued the momentum, provided more information for them to salivate over, she probably would've broken into the national circuit.

Mirajane grimaced. "I didn't expect you to crack so soon. My fault for miscalculating."

Erza was less than sympathetic. "It's been great for your career." For Erza, not so great. The local newspapers had published some distasteful cartoons depicting her rivalry with Mirajane. It had been an incredible hassle to force them to withdraw the cartoons and issue an apology, but rants about freedom of speech stood no chance against a dozen sharp weapons and very pointed threats.

"We left Straelen because it wasn't safe." Mirajane finally started using a knife and fork on her tenth pancake, cutting it into nearly perfect squares, still no syrup. "And I thought it'd be best if we didn't attract any attention." She shrugged, squishing her tiny squares of pancake with her fork.

"But you messed up during our fight." Erza said. That would explain Mirajane's distraught look afterwards.

She laughed harshly. "Yeah, I messed up. I don't know if they're still looking for us. I haven't noticed anything unusual the past few months, so I'm not too worried. But regardless, it'll be easier to find us now." She paused, looking down at her plate, now covered with unappetizing squares of pancake pulp. She winced and petulantly pushed it away.

Coughing to distract herself from Mirajane's pout, Erza asked, "Is that why we're going to Straelen? To find out whether people are still looking for you?"

Mirajane stared at her in disbelief. "Do you even think before you speak? What kind of blockhead would do that?" Shaking her head, she pulled Erza's plate closer.

Erza let her, secretly mortified by her own question. Why did she ask that? Had she been that distracted? "Then why are we going? You can't care that much about the tournament."

Mirajane hesitated, then stuffed an entire pancake into her mouth.

Erza could only stare. Mirajane had to be using magic; that pancake was bigger than her face. Then with sudden realization, she said, "It's your cousin, isn't it? The one you used to visit everyday as a child."

Mirajane swallowed the pancake with little difficulty, looking disgruntled. "They told you about her too, huh?"

"Elfman could hardly tell me anything about her. I don't think he even knows her name." She paused, keeping in mind what happened the last time she made a comment about Mirajane's relationship with her siblings. "You seem to be keeping a lot of secrets from him and Lisanna."

To her great relief, Mirajane merely bristled. "They've never asked why we left and they took it seriously enough that I didn't need to explain. And our situation now, well, they haven't done anything to attract attention and they won't anytime soon."

Frustration underlined her words. Lisanna was talented but too laid-back, while Elfman was driven but not as skilled. Their training sessions were probably fraught with tension. Besides that, neither of them were at Mirajane's level. She would always attract the most attention, and it would be her fault if they were discovered. "And your cousin?"

"I just wanted something for myself that has nothing to do with them, and Alexa's it. You wouldn't understand," Mirajane said defensively.

Erza restrained herself from snippily explaining she actually did understand, choosing instead to say very neutrally, "You'd be surprised."

Slavery had a brutal way of stripping away one's identity and it took her a long time to figure out who she was. Buying her first set of armor had been a breakthrough for her, a symbol that Erza Scarlet was more than just a former slave. She was also a girl willing to spend one million jewels on armor. It meant a lot when she discovered that about herself, even though it was an inane (and expensive) fact. So she could see why Mirajane kept her cousin to herself. Alexa was obviously a symbol that she was more than just Elfman and Lisanna's sister. She just didn't understand why Mirajane insisted on such a clean separation, so much so that her siblings were in the complete dark.

In response to her level tone, Mirajane frowned but conceded. "Fine. Maybe you do understand."

"So Alexa's the reason why you're returning to Straelen?" They were finally getting somewhere.

"What do you think?" Mirajane was sulkily avoiding the question.

Erz was exasperated. She could only hope someday, if her own secrets were ever revealed, she'd react more graciously. "I don't care what I think! You said you'd be honest, remember?"

Mirajane shifted as if she was itching to storm out. Her eyes glowed suspiciously, but she deflated with a sigh and admitted reluctantly, "I received a message from her a few days ago."

"What did it say?" Erza had a few concerns, but she knew Mirajane at least verified the origins of the message. The other girl was careful like that. She had refused jobs based on clients' background checks more than once.

Mirajane looked her in the eyes. "Come back."

Erza blinked. "That's it?"

The other girl only shrugged in response. "I like to think she would've added a 'please' if she had more room. It was a tiny piece of paper."

"So you're going just because your cousin told you to?" Erza could feel the muscle in her jaw twitch. That was about as blockheaded as going back just to see if people were still looking for her.

"...Almost better not to know, am I right?" Mirajane's eyes were dark and searching, but her tone was light and teasing.

It was enough to drive home the absurdity of the entire situation, and Erza had to let out a rueful laugh. "Yes, you're right."

Mirajane smiled triumphantly. "I'm usually right. Elfman and Lisanna can vouch for that."

"Almost better. Not better," Erza stressed. Then with more concern, "Will they be safe without you?"

A strange expression crossed Mirajane's face. "They're actually better off if I'm not there. If Rolf's still searching, he'd be looking for me. And if I'm already in Straelen, he won't bother with them until he's dealt with me. In any case, I've already talked to Master Makarov. They should be fine."

Rolf. He must be the one Elfman called a 'nasty piece of work.' "Why would Rolf be looking for you in the first place? Who is he?"

Mirajane hesitated. "You don't really need to know. But if he's one of the reasons Alexa asked me to come back, I'll tell you."

Looking at her serious expression and thinking of all the things she'd already revealed, Erza let it go and nodded in reluctant acquiescence. It was a lost cause if Mirajane wasn't being honest by now, anyways.

But the other girl wasn't done with her yet. "Besides, haven't you had enough for now?" She paused thoughtfully. "I think you've shown more emotion today than you did in the last month. You should be careful not to overexert yourself."

"That's because you weren't around to drive me insane in the past six months." Erza said flatly. It was somehow the wrong thing to say because Mirajane looked inordinately pleased with herself. Intent on wiping the smug look off the other girl's face, she said, "You knew you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from provoking me and potentially attract Rolf's attention, so you stayed away." She made sure she was as bland as possible, although it didn't matter. She hadn't felt lonely at all.

But Mirajane's smirk widened just a fraction. "Sounds like you missed me, Red." Ignoring Erza's faint scoff of outrage, she said archly, "After we come back, we'll have a proper fight. All your equipment, all my forms, and we don't stop until Markarov starts wailing like a baby. What do you say?" She smiled viciously at Erza.

Her mood was contagious, and Erza could feel an answering smile tugging reluctantly at the corner of her mouth, enough for Mirajane to take it as an agreement.

"Excellent. Now let's get back to business. Yesterday evening, I noticed you picked up the left-most fork..."

Erza was beginning to see why Lisanna hated studying so much. Mirajane was relentless. With a stifled sigh, she steeled herself for the dull hours ahead.

So much for dull. If she had known what was going to happen at dinner, she would have strongly considered giving up her right foot just to get dull back. The two of them returned to their car, a red-faced Erza marching quickly down the corridor and a laughing Mirajane barely able to keep up. Erza slid their door open and had half a mind to slam it in Mirajane's face, but the other girl slipped in before she could.

Slumping against the door, Mirajane shook with laughter despite the heat of Erza's glare. She said with amusement, "What can I say? Cold winters and long nights, Northerners need to pass the time."

Erza was pacing, still blushing wildly at what had happened in the dining car. "That couple, those people, they're all deviants!"

"Hey." Mirajane's suddenly sharp tone caught her attention. "To each their own, Red. They were foolish, but they didn't mean to be malicious or-"

Erza growled. She knew that, but she was still wrapped up in her own embarrassment. She didn't want to think about other people.

Mirajane's mouth clicked shut and she just looked at her. Feeling chastened for some reason, Erza sulkily turned away and started pacing again, willing her blush to disappear. She could still feel the weight of Mirajane's appraising stare and it made her fingers twitch.

Finally, the other girl said, "I'll try to make sure this doesn't happen again."

Still feeling childish, Erza muttered, "You were smirking the entire time. Why do you care?"

A pause, then Mirajane said, "I didn't expect you to be so flustered." She didn't answer the question, Erza noticed.

"Why wouldn't I be flustered?" she snapped. She was fifteen and her fans had some sense of propriety. And boundaries. Those were important.

Mirajane explained almost apologetically. "Laxus gets asked all the time, even when he was our age. I thought the same thing was happening to you too."

"...How would you know?" Erza's mind was suddenly filled with disturbing images. Mirajane and Laxus planning out pranks together, cackling whenever Natsu tripped...

"Markarov's asked me to shadow him a few times," Mirajane said casually.

That took Erza by surprise, though at least her imagination stopped working overtime and her mortification had vanished from her mind. "Because of Ivan? Did he show up?"

"His minions did. I had to break cover one time to help Laxus out." Mirajane turned to lock the door for the night. Her voice was breezy, but her hands were trembling slightly. It must have been a very serious attack if she had to intervene. Erza wondered if that was when Laxus got his scar. Was that when he developed his wary respect for Mirajane?

Then she wondered if she could've done any better. She didn't know whether she should feel jealous Markarov never asked her to help out with his grandson, but watching the other girl get ready for bed, Erza had to admit Mirajane had the best skill set for such discreet requests. If Markarov trusted her with Laxus' safety, no wonder she didn't mind missing out on guild meetings.

"Before he became a jerk and took everything for granted, he used to get all red and sparky whenever men and women invited him to bed." Mirajane dropped onto the couch and looked at Erza expectantly. "I thought you were somewhere in the middle. Used to the invites, but still appreciated them."

Erza shook her head silently in the negative, but her mind was racing. What if her fans did flirt with her and she never noticed? She knew she didn't grasp certain social conventions that others took for granted. Maybe this was one of those cases.

Mirajane tilted her head and said thoughtully, "Maybe it's the type of people you attract." Then with a sharp, teasing grin, she said, "I'm guessing a lot of adolescents swoon when you walk by."

...That did happen once or twice, and it hadn't been just the teenagers. She did miss the signs! Or maybe they had been all sick?

Laughing out loud at her expression, Mirajane exclaimed delightedly, "You mean I'm right?! Oh, I wish Markarov asked me to shadow you instead!" She asked cheekily, "Tell me, do they bat their eyelashes at you?"

Still grappling with what she'd learned, Erza said distractedly, "Maybe? I only really noticed when you did it, though." Ignoring Mirajane's incredulous mumble of '...Really, Red?', she sifted through all those moments that stayed in her head a little too long. There had been that handsome farmer on the hay wagon who asked if she wanted to 'roll in his hay,' the pretty young widow who invited her in for coffee after she spent the entire night getting rid of the serpent in her garden, the cute teenager who asked her to go to the school dance after she took down a corrupt administrator...

Looking at the past year from a certain perspective, her life was clearly full of romantic cliches and she didn't even know.

Mirajane jabbed her in the side to get her attention. "Don't worry, Red. If we do things right during the tournament, we'll be hanging out with the the upper class and they're very direct. You'll understand what they want from you right away."

Erza cringed inwardly at the thought. Doing the tournament right wasn't an issue at all, but dealing with the rich and powerful? What was the right way to reject them? She had a feeling violence wouldn't work. "And if I don't want what they want?"

"...That puts a damper in my plan." Mirajane admitted somberly.

Erza stared at her and demanded, "What plan?"

"The plan to make you less uptight, of course." She cracked a grin. "In other words, to get that stick-"

Erza tackled her. Hadn't she had enough entertainment at Erza's expense already? Mirajane was laughing too hard to dodge effectively and she let out an 'oof' as Erza crushed her into the couch cushions.

She looked up at Erza, breathless with laughter. "When I was a child, people used earrings to show they were unavailable." She traced Erza's ear with the tip of her finger. "A little metal bar, right here."

Erza did her best to ignore the sensation. "So I need to pierce my ears?"

Mirajane struggled underneath her, but eventually relented, "It's been three years, so the signs might've changed. I'll ask Alexa when I see her."

"She keeps track of things like that?" Similar to Mirajane then, who was conscientious of every aspect of her image, down to her bracelet and other accessories.

"Of course. She can't take full advantage of her looks otherwise." Was Mirajane actually envious?

Curious, Erza pulled away to sit properly on the couch. "Is she that beautiful?"

"People would do a double-take whenever she walked by. Even when she was our age, she was receiving proposals. She might even be married by now." She sounded doubtful, though.

Erza thought people like that existed only in books. "You have a photo of her?"

"No... but I did draw a picture of her..." Mirajane rooted through her belongings and shoved an open notebook in Erza's face.

The picture was hideous. It was as if a scarecrow had spilled its innards onto the paper and scribbled in green jellybeans for eyes with its dying breath. At least Erza thought they were eyes. The only clue she had was that there were two of them. Hastily glancing away, she looked at Mirajane, unable to tell if she was serious or not.

"You drew this?" She didn't even try to keep the horror out of her voice. Confronted with such lack of skill, who could?

Mirajane wavered a little, then she said confidently, "Yes, I did."

Half-joking, half-serious, Erza said, "We should burn it." Ignoring Mirajane's look of outrage, she jabbed at the pink splotch in the bottom right corner. "What's this supposed to be?"

"...Her mouth," Mirajane said angrily. Then recovering quite nicely and staring at her drawing in sudden contemplation, she said, "This picture's probably not enough anyways."

Erza couldn't resist. "I hope so. Alexa's human, isn't she?"

Mirajane smacked her hard with the notebook. "When we see her tomorrow, you'll know what I mean."