IV: Laxus

Usually, Led Zeppelin blaring out of his alarm clock was the best thing to wake up to. Not this morning. Sweet breath by his ear and a warm body sliding beneath the sheets and pressing into his was an improvement no matter which way you cut it. Fingernails raked into his hair and pulled just lightly enough. It was a precursor for what was to come. Legs spread wide to rest on either side of his hips and she lifted one of his hands to put his fingers in her mouth. Laxus wrapped his arm around her naked hips before opening his eyes and arching into her behind. Mira preened around his fingers, a sound that moved straight through him and made him impossibly hard.

Laxus peeked at her through his lashes and almost stopped. She'd put his tie on again, it was wrapped around her throat and hanging between her breasts. Her eyes were bright but he couldn't tell if she'd been crying like the last time he'd caught her standing in front of his body-length mirror, his white dress shirt hanging off her otherwise naked body and his tie draped around her neck. He'd spied on her for too long then from the mattress, as she took off the shirt and let it drop around her feet and remained in his tie, smoothing it down her middle. He'd wanted to ask her what that meant but didn't have the courage. She'd returned, given him the same treatment she was now, and he'd fucked her until they both buried the memory. How long would that work for? Not long enough.

Mira released his fingers and Laxus filled his hands with her breasts. She sighed and leaned forward when he asked. Her kiss wasn't wet with tears and her breathing was clear. He felt less guilty for it. "I don't remember falling asleep with you here," he said around her kiss.

"Surprise. I found your key under the welcome mat and I let myself in. I hope you don't mind."

"Not in the slightest." His hiding spots had to be simple for Gramps; Mira had helped him create a list of potential spots and though he hadn't told her exactly which he'd chosen, he was glad she'd decided to look on her own.

"And this?" She reached behind herself and pulled out her cell phone.

"Again?" Laxus asked.

"Don't you have fun?"

He sighed deeply enough that she shifted on top of him. "I don't know if I have time this morning." A glance at his clock was telling enough, it was seven thirty, he was supposed to be at the station in an hour.

"I guess you better be quick."

"What if someone I know sees it?" What if someone at work saw it, was his biggest concern. What the hell would Ultear do to him if she knew there werethese kinds of videos of him floating around the web? Skin him. She would just skin him. Splay him out on the station steps for everyone to see, a warning to all men led astray by majestic pussy. He opened his mouth to call it quits.

"You want to know what I'd do if I stumbled across it?" Mira asked in the sultriest voice imaginable.

Laxus couldn't help but tighten his hold on her hips. "What?"

"I'd think, he's pretty, and then I'd watch it all the way to the end, squeezing every lick of enjoyment out of it I could." She wriggled up and set her phone against the headboard, the recording screen up and facing her so Mira could see exactly how much and how little was shown. Laxus glanced back but didn't have a great view.

"It's just the side of your face," she assured him.

"The side with the recognizable scar," he muttered.

Mira stopped teasing. "Do you really not want to?"

His want to make her moan was stronger than his immediate fear of losing his job. He'd screen the video. "Hit record."

Mira's smile grew slowly. She pressed the screen and climbed all the way up Laxus' body. This was different. Last time, she wanted to do the servicing. Laxus didn't know if that turned him on more or just made him nervous. It was a lot of pressure, performing. Her thighs rested against either of his cheeks and she tilted her hips. She tasted a little bitter but her sigh was all sweet. She was always more receptive to his ministrations when she thought there was a chance of getting caught or, more recently, the camera was rolling. She sometimes texted the videos to him in the middle of the night along with other compromising photos that kept him up past the time he should be. Jellal was pissed at first when Laxus told him to drive a few days in a row so he could catch some extra sleep, leaning against the window but once Jellal got the whole story, or at least the part of the story that mattered, he was a little more accommodating. He was a good partner, taking pity on Laxus for his complete inability to text Mira 'I'm sleeping.'

When Mira wasn't texting him photos or videos, she was leaning over his shoulder while he navigated his laptop, going to the free amateur porn site she favourited and uploading the videos that Laxus decided showed nothing identifiable. Any of the other's got deleted.

Then they'd sit back and wait. The site gave a read out of when the video was clicked on and how long it was watched for. Who would have thought statistics could ever be sexy? Laxus, when Mira would get in front of him, remove her clothing, and make him have her there on the desk. Her adoration was a catching thing. Sometimes, he'd fuck her so hard that anything on the desk ended up on the floor. The only thing breakable was the desk itself, it's leg suffering for his pleasure, and the laptop, that met with the floor more than once. It was a field laptop, though, and hardy. The desk had been fixed but not before the old man got back from his doctor's appointment Porlyusica had taken him to and seen the mess of tools Laxus had splayed out. Makarov's smile was knowing, though he'd chosen to take the smug highroad. That road was a dangerous one, as far as Laxus was concerned, it was riddled with potholes filled with things like grandkids and marriage and love. He didn't know what he and Mira had but he wasn't sure that was it. The topic had yet to be broached, and that was just fine by Laxus. Gramps didn't even know what Mira did for a living and he wasn't sure he'd approve. Hell. Laxus wasn't sure he approved himself. He couldn't stop, though.

Mira always trembled when she was close. She started to now, thighs squeezing in on him, her breaths coming up so, so short. Her fingers were in his hair again. When Laxus realized they blocked the view of the camera, he took her wrists and pinned her hands behind her back. Her breath hiccoughed and her hands flexed in his. Laxus held her tightly, making sure she couldn't move an inch, and moved his tongue in a way he knew she liked quite a lot. She bent like a bow, head tilting back, and orgasmed, body pressing into his tongue hard. Laxus slowed, then stopped, then released her. It took Mira some time to turn off the recording. When she was ready, though, she turned the phone up to the ceiling and shimmied down Laxus' chest. Her mouth was as hot as cinders kissing him. She was thorough and careful. Laxus was so occupied with her mouth, he didn't feel her slide down on top of him until she was teasing him at her entrance and Laxus took it that step further, pushing inside of her. She gasped and her eyes drooped and she looked at him in a way he wanted to memorize. Mira was something else, a complex package topped with a whole lot of crazy he couldn't get away from no matter how strange it became, no matter what she needed from him. He'd give it, give and give, until she didn't ask for anything more.

Mira lifted herself up and back down again, seemingly decided that she, too, didn't care much about breaking the rules. No intercourse without protection. She was on birth control, and he was clean. And uninterested in stopping.

Laxus propped himself up and bridged his hips, giving Mira more to work with. She brought her knees up, planted her hands on Laxus' thighs, and fucked him hard enough that he was worried about his grandfather hearing in the room down the hall. He would have gotten her to slow down but her neck was starting to go red and she was shaking again, edging into another orgasm. He would never deny her.

When she came, she left crescent moons in his thighs and praises in his ears, though he hadn't done much just yet. Laxus pushed her to her back and got on his knees. Mira's smile grew again as she intuited what he wanted. Her legs came together; Laxus held them up with one hand, clamped his hand on her thigh with the other, and started over again. Like before, she was too loud, her voice and Jim Morrison's singing Love her Madly, competing.

Her face turned into the bedsheets and she gripped his wrist hard enough to hurt. Unlike her, Laxus kept his eyes open when he came, pushing into her deep. Mira didn't scold him for it, she only panted and pushed her hair back from her forehead. Laxus hugged her legs until he caught his breath, then he put a kiss on her ankle and got up. Once his alarm was shut off, the house was eerily quiet. Laxus tiptoed.

There was no en-suit bathroom for his room, that was the master and Gramps had that. Laxus found a pair of discarded classic Avengers boxers and tripped into them. He was cautious opening the door and peeking out into the hallway. It seemed the old man was still asleep. Laxus took the hallway on the balls of his feet and closed the bathroom door quietly. After that, though, he hurried. It was eight already. There was no time for a shower; he wetted his hair and put on deodorant and by the time that was done, he had twenty-three minutes to wake Gramps, feed him his heart medication, and get to the station, a fifteen-minute drive. Maybe he could duck in through the morgue doors, that way, Ultear nor Jellal would catch him skulking through the front.

Laxus opened the door and almost crushed a tiny, crooked and surly man. At first, Laxus didn't recognize his grandfather. Makarov was so gaunt these days, all of the bones in his face could be seen. Then, slowly, his brain engaged and he accepted that this skeleton of a man was the same one that raised him. Laxus breathed out. "Don't do that."

"Wait for the bathroom in my own house?"

"Sneak up on me in our house," Laxus corrected. "And you have a bathroom in your own room."

"Yes, but my bathroom doesn't have a guilty grandson to harass."

"What is it? I'm running late," he tagged on the last in hopes of softening his words. Since Ivan assisted the Cardinal in his killings and Laxus had shot him to death, he'd been trying to be nicer to his grandfather. Some days, Makarov handled the news well. Others, Laxus caught the old man staring listlessly at a cereal box decorated with a man that looked superficially like Ivan, in that he, too, had a beard and steely eyes.

"Was that Mirajane I heard come in?" Makarov had a gleam in his eye Laxus didn't much like, it was something much more dangerous than sadness.

"Mind your own business, old man."

"It is my business. Why don't you invite her to dinner tonight? Porlyusica is cooking."

"Yeah? Does she know that?"

"She cooks every day," Makarov muttered.

"I know. You complain about it. Every. Day."

"A man needs variety. An old man," Makarov corrected. "Not you young ones. You get too much already. The buffet wasn't like it is today when I was your age."

"We're not having this conversation." This poorly veiled, gross food analogy conversation.

"Take pity on an old man. Ask her by tonight."

"No," Laxus hissed.

"Why not? You can't just sneak her into your bedroom in the mornings and late at night, Laxus. She's going to think you're only in it for," he dropped his voice and looked around conspiratorially. "The sex."

"God." Laxus didn't know whether to laugh or not.

Makarov's cheeks were rosy with delight. "Unless you are, are you? Are there others? Share with your poor old grandfather."

"Annnd that's enough." Laxus inched out of the bathroom. Makarov wouldn't let him get far.

"Don't be embarrassed. I was young once. How do you keep them from finding out about each other? I tried once. One girl gave me this," he tapped the corner of his eye where a long scar lived, "And the other took up on the wrong side of the law just to spite me."

Laxus knew a little about girls on the wrong side of the law. "I'm sure that's why."

"What's the other one's name? Is she beautiful like Mirajane? She is, isn't she? Dreyar men are lucky. Sometimes, we can be led astray by a pretty face but what we lack in cynicism we make up for in other ways. I remember changing you, Laxus, your peeper—"

"Have you taken your heart medication?" Laxus asked loudly in hopes of stopping this in its tracks.

Makarov clammed up. Thank fuck. He'd taken to rambling in the recent months and none of what he said ever had a goddamn filter. Last week, they were in the drug store looking at laxatives for him and Makarov made sure to voice his displeasure for the recent edition to his pharmacy bill and recount his most recent movement in detail. On top of his Alzheimer's, it was A Lot.

"You haven't, have you?"

When Makarov was about to lie, he always popped out his bottom lip. "Yes, actually, I did."

"You're a little liar."

"I am not. I took it."

"Then you'll take it again," Laxus said.

"The doctor said it was dangerous to have it more than once a day!"

"So's not taking it at all," Laxus returned.

Makarov grumbled something surely mean, that, too, had been getting worse and stomped off to his bedroom. Laxus entered his room just as the other door slammed. Mira was on the bed still, propped up on her knees. She'd put his shirt on over her shoulders but hadn't buttoned it up. Laxus shamelessly used her to push aside his increasing stress, as best he could, anyway. Just as long as he didn't think about what she was thinking about when she put on his clothes, he was golden.

"Was that your grandfather?"

"Yeah."

"I guess that means we should be quieter next time." She didn't look at all embarrassed, not Mira, who'd spent a good many years making all of her coins off pleasure.

"Then he wouldn't have anything to gossip about."

A brow rose. "Does he often gossip?"

"When he thinks there's something to gossip about."

"Me? I've been coming here for months."

"Not you exactly. He thinks because you haven't stayed for dinner that means I have an armada of women as beautiful as you waiting for a piece." Laxus found his pants and pulled them on. They were a little wrinkled. And was that a coffee stain just above his knee? That was interesting because Jellal was the only one drinking coffee yesterday. Makarov had been told by the doctor to cut out caffeine and had taken the news badly. Laxus volunteered to make the change as well so he didn't have to do it alone. The first day was rough. The second worse. After a week, he was a little more alert in the mornings but he still hankered for coffee, especially when he smelled it. Which was always, it seemed, because Jellal was a fiend.

"That's an interesting leap."

"He's not working with all his cogs. Not after last spring." He glazed over that. Mira was quiet, waiting for him to continue, likely. She never pushed him to talk but she did seem to have this gentle, nudging way of getting him to think about divulging. Feelings. He burned those as best he could.

When Mira realized that he wasn't going to say anything else, she plucked herself up from the bed and came to him, putting herself between him and his dresser, her arms around his neck. She pulled him in and it was exactly what he needed to not think about anything.

"Do you want an armada of women?" Mira asked between their mouths.

"Too much effort, sneaking around."

"Who said anything about sneaking?"

He wasn't sure what she meant. What were the boundaries of their relationship? Did they have a relationship? Was he expected to see other people? He knew she did for work and sometimes for pleasure. Not that he spent much time dwelling. His head went weird places when he thought about Mira's favourite girl. That was something him and Jellal just didn't fucking talk about. Ever. "Um..."

"She'd be my pick, of course," Mira continued. "I'd want someone I'd get along with, though of course, you would have a vote, too. She'd be someone we both found attractive." He realized what she was saying and felt himself get hard again. Mira knew, too, and grabbed a handful. "Does that sound nice?"

"Not Erza."

"No. I wouldn't and neither would she. But someone else?"

Laxus kissed her by way of answer. Mira put her butt up on the dresser and spread her legs. Laxus was just unzipping his pants when he heard tires crunching over the driveway. He closed his eyes and put his head on Mira's shoulder, hoping that wasn't his partner.

Mira ruined it for him. "Jellal's here."

And getting out of his car. Laxus fixed his zipper and stripped Mira of his shirt. She batted his hands away and did up the buttons for him and Laxus let her despite the fact that Jellal was knocking on the door. She put his tie around his throat, too, working slowly and methodically, and looked sad to be separate from it.

"Thanks." Laxus stuffed his shirt into his pants and Mira fixed his hair for him, fingers making short work of his messy locks. When she was done, she pulled him in by the tie for another kiss that Laxus felt all the way in his bones.

The front door opened. "Did I give him a key?" Laxus questioned.

"A few months ago," Mira reminded him. "After your grandfather had that fall when you were in training."

Right. The Harassment in the Workplace training that seemed to be rather useless but a hot topic on all the bureaucrat's desks lately.

Laxus grabbed his badge and his wallet and put them in his pocket. He added his keys next and thought he was ready to meet Jellal. Something made him hesitate. He was supposed to do something. He went through his morning checklist in his mind. Workout. That was a scrap. Same with shower. Eat. That'd be done along the way now. "I was supposed to give Gramps his medication. Fuck."

"I can do it," Mira offered, "If you're running out of time."

"Yeah?"

"Sure."

"He can be surly."

"I got it."

Jellal's footsteps were in the hallway. "I gotta go." Laxus picked up a Taproot T-shirt and gave it to Mira. She pulled it over her head and around her hips and Laxus opened the door. Jellal was on the other side, lifting his hand to knock.

"Morning," Mira sang and hopped off the dresser.

"Morning, Mira." Jellal was good about not staring, though Laxus supposed after his stint working and living at the Prayer, a once infamous bordello run by a woman Jellal never called mother but certainly thought of in such capacity, given that she raised him and paid his way through police foundations, seeing girls like Mira, dressed so scantily was common place. What would that be like? His partner never talked about it, like Laxus never talked about his father. Some wounds were better left badly healed.

"Why are you here? I still got some time."

"Captain said she called you and you weren't picking up," Jellal said. "We got a case out by Somnium."

"Another?" Laxus turned to look for his jacket, Mira had it for him already. He took it from her and shrugged it on.

"I'll fill you in on the way," Jellal said.

"Alright." Laxus caught himself by the door and looked back at Mira. "You sure you're good giving Gramps his medication? He can be sort of wily. Like, watch soft core to make you uncomfortable kind of wily."

"Well," Mira picked up her phone off the bed and wiggled it between her fingers. "In that case, have I got something for him."

Laxus was pretty sure she was kidding. "Don't encourage him."

Mira smiled. "I'll see you later."

Laxus opened his mouth to ask her to come for dinner, thinking of his grandfather, but closed it again, afraid of what Mira would say and what that might mean. He said instead, "Don't take any of Gramps' shit."

"Really. I can handle him. Leave."

She'd dealt with worse, Laxus was sure. Sometimes, Makarov could be inappropriate but he wasn't a predator and Mira wasn't exactly a damsel. "Call me if he's acting up." Just in case.

"I will." She crossed the room and pushed him out.

Laxus double backed around her for his phone. He found it beneath his pillow. The face lit up when he grabbed it and he saw that he had five missed calls from the office and four from Jellal. It seemed par for the course lately. Usually, though, it was Jellal's calls he was missing and not Ultear's.

"She sounded mad," Jellal said unhelpfully.

"Great." Really, this was Ultear's own fault. "She never calls me first."

"Well, things change."

"Never for the better."

"Welcome to the Adult club. Bye, Mira." Jellal was already half-way down the hall.

"Be safe, boys." She had a wink for Laxus. He lent her a half-smile and rushed to catch up, dumping his phone in his pocket along the way. A pair of oxfords waited for him by the door. There was dirt smeared on the tips of the toes and they were half-on and half-off the boot mat. He didn't keep his shoes as nicely as Jellal did. He didn't have time for that shit. He showed up, busted the bad guys, the cycle repeated for the entirety of his day. There wasn't an hour to set aside for leather maintenance and that was just fine by him. If he wanted to do the bureaucratic crap, dress nice, talk nice, play nice, he would have opted for an office job, not trudging through forgotten and filthy alleys looking for killers.

Laxus donned his beige trench coat and grabbed his bowler off the hook by the garage door. "You driving?"

"I could."

"I'll get the coffees," Laxus said, then corrected himself. "I'll get the coffee and water." No caffeine fucking sucked.

Jellal put on his shiny leather shoes and pulled open the front door. Cold, cold air dotted with the odd snowflake rushed inside the house. Laxus grumbled and cinched his jacket tighter, thinking about the lined trench coat he had stuffed away in the closet with all of his other winter gear. Buried. He was holding on to the shoulder season for as long as he could. Another source of contention in his household. He'd dressed his grandfather in everything from a down-filled coat to a toque since the beginning of October and Makarov had complained every single time, spouting things like, 'You don't have to wear it, why should I?' Laxus was running out of energy for the arguments.

The Charger was warm, at least. Laxus turned on his heated seat. Honestly, it was the only improvement in modern cars, as far as he was concerned. Everything else was worse. The motors, the designs, though the Charger wasn't too bad, the quality. Jellal had already redone his exhaust while Laxus' Plymouth's was the original.

"So?" Laxus jammed his seatbelt into the coupler and put his hands in front of the air vent. "What's happening?"

"We have another body by Somnium," Jellal announced.

Laxus sighed. "I ever tell you I'm fucking sick of visiting Somnium?" All of the women that ran it were mean in some capacity. Tante Eileen would drag them out behind the building and have them shot if Erza would allow for it, Laxus was sure, and Erza was a blade all in her own right. Then there was Angel, who looked for any excuse possible to inflict some pain upon him, and Mira… Sometimes, he thought she hated him. Others…

"We're all sick of us visiting Somnium," Jellal agreed. "I'm sure Tante Eileen is going to be thrilled having us knock on her door again at…" He checked the radio time. "Eight-thirty."

"You think we're going to have to talk to her?"

"I'd bet money on it," Jellal muttered.

"You got information I'm not privy to?" What kinds of things was Erza whispering in his ear? He was sure it wasn't sweet talk.

"I'm just being logical," Jellal said. "The last two led back to her doors, why wouldn't this one?"

"You think she's having them done in?" That was sloppy for someone like Tante Eileen who could afford to dispose of bodies in such a way that they were never found.

Jellal mimicked his thoughts. "No, but I think that Somnium is the ground that pulls them all together. Someone's targeting the men going into her establishment and I want to know why."

"Vendettas," Laxus prosed. "Pissed off wife?"

"Did you read that file Levy sent us?"

"Why would I read it when I got you?"

Jellal rolled his eyes. "I guess at least you're pretty? First two victims weren't married."

"Maybe this third one is, though, and his wife was a heinous, jealous bitch and a man hater and this can all be tied up in a neat bow before lunchtime today." No more serial killers. He didn't have to say it aloud for Jellal to know exactly what he was hoping for. Jellal was more clinical, needing evidence before jumping to conclusions or musing. He put his foot down and his car accelerated through an orange stoplight.

Blood was in the air. Laxus breathed shallowly and stepped beneath the yellow police tape strung up in an alley between two ancient buildings, either with gargoyles, of all things, watching them from on high. Judging. One's eyes were wide and round and his mouth was open. The other's eyes were narrowed and its teeth were barred. They gave him the creeps.

A bitter gust of wind whipped down the alley and raced up Laxus' pant leg and beneath his coat. He put his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. Ahead, Jellal looked unbothered in his duffle coat and leather gloves. Except for his feet, anyway, he stamped those just as soon as he stopped meters from the body and field techs, trying to get the small bits of snow off his toes before it could melt and make his feet cold. Laxus followed suit.

Levy looked up from the body, one end of the covering sheet in her gloved hand, a pen in her mouth.

"What do we have?" Jellal asked.

"Male, mid-thirties, a receipt from your favourite place in his coat's pocket," Levy said with a wry smile. Laxus groaned.

Jellal asked, "Any identification?"

"Erigor Rumson," Levy replied. "He owned a motor company and was visiting Magnolia on business."

There was a package of cigarettes in Laxus' pocket. He fingered its sharp corner but didn't pull it out. He was still trying to break the habit for real but it was nice to have them. They helped him think. "What else?"

"He was shot once as far as I can tell out here. I'd like to get him back to the lab, though, to have a better look." She glanced down the alleyway to where a small crowd was gathering.

"Fucking vultures." Laxus lifted his hands and his voice. "Hey! Scram!" It was cold. How was he supposed to do his damn job and get the hell out of there back into warmth when everyone was trying to gawk and fuck up his crime scene? He got dirty looks. Some people moved off. One did not.

"Detective Dreyar! Can I get a statement?" Jenny Realight looked as perky and annoying as ever, a million bucks in a tailored coat and a pair of slacks beneath boots that must have cost her a pretty penny. "What can you tell me about this latest victim? Do we have another serial killer on our hands? How do you feel about that? Magnolia's crime rate has never been so high. Do you think the police could be doing more?"

"What I think is that the reporters in this town need to cool it. Get out of here, Jenny." Jenny's camera man appeared out of the crowd and zoomed in on the body as much as he could. Laxus used his body to block his view. "Get out of here, will you?"

Jenny said, "The public deserves to know if their safety is in jeopardy. Tell me what you know so that people can arm themselves. With knowledge."

"I've been here for five minutes. We don't know anything yet, other than there's a dead man in the alley. Now, if you please." Last time he laid a finger on her, she'd went straight to Ultear and told her that she'd be pressing charges next time for no other reason that beneath her veneer, lipsticked smile was a wicked bitch. Laxus practiced the hover-hand and waved her away from the scene.

Jenny didn't make any indication of moving. "Who was the deceased?"

"I wasn't lying, Miss Realight," Laxus lied. "I don't know anything yet. The only thing I can tell you is that he was an out of towner. Now, you know how this works. When I get some more answers, you can come to the office and hound me through the right channels. The boss lady gets tetchy when I talk without her permission."

"I'll throw you two if you talk now." She flashed him a wad of cash.

"Money might grease some wheels but these are seized right up." He tempted fate enough seeing Mira and letting her catch shit on film without taking bribes from the local reporters. Ultear didn't need any more ammunition.

Jenny sucked on her tooth. "Well, can I get first interview, then?"

If it would get her out of there? "Sure. You got it, once you go through the proper channels." She still looked at him skeptically. Laxus put his hand over his heart. "Scout's honour."

"Dreyar!" Jellal's voice echoed off the concrete walls behind him. Laxus waved Jenny off. She backed up but not away, choosing to put her phone to her ear and chatter into it, likely ringing Ultear up. It was good enough. Laxus returned to Jellal's side.

"Levy's bagging everything and taking it back for analysis. There weren't any witnesses," Jellal said. "We should pop into Somnium and see what we can learn there."

"Must we?"

"Chin up," Jellal said. "Tante Eileen didn't even threaten us last time."

"Big improvement." Laxus was sure that working homicide, one day, he'd find himself thrown into some shitty, garbage caked dumpster. He was also sure that Tante Eileen was going to be the one to pull the trigger on the decision.

"I'm sure it'll be fine. She'll want the killer caught just as badly as we do."

Jellal was the idealist. Laxus the realist.