Graveyard
"Happy! Happy?" Natsu called searching through his cramped apartment for a sign of the little blue cat.
Realising there was nowhere left for his feline companion to hide, he tightened his scarf and headed out into the chilly November air. Never before had he managed to neglect looking after his cat on fireworks night, a particularly tense day for all pet owners, but yesterday that had been the last thing on his mind.
Gray had confided in him - albeit unknowingly and completely drowned in booze. Still, he had shared personal information about his situation and Natsu had the overwhelming urge to help this guy. No matter how terrible his personality was, no one deserved to be almost starved by their own family.
On the other hand, Gray was black out drunk and prone to showing off so could his words really be trusted? Revealing a possible murderer in his family wasn't something to boast about but it wasn't likely was that to be true either. However from Rogue's description of Lyon and what he had overheard in the history block, everything else added up. Let alone the fact that he openly regretted the choking incident. It wasn't an apology or reason for forgiveness by any means but if Gray didn't even have memories of it (assuming none returned when he was sober) that surely meant he hadn't been in control. Natsu had said something wrong and it must have triggered him. Maybe he had just been stressed from whatever anniversary they were celebrating and it had been too much.
Still scanning the roads for Happy, Natsu sighed and wished he had someone to rant to or discuss this with to clear up his painfully jumbled thoughts. He wouldn't share this though. No matter how much he hated someone he knew that personal information shouldn't be shared lightly or without permission, one of the many lessons ingrained into him as a child. That one had stuck with him ever since an unfortunate incident involving Igneel's colleagues coming round for dinner, Zeref going through puberty and Natsu catching him at an awkward time and wanting to share.
Did he even hate Gray? At the moment it was probably a yes except when his bloodstream was fifty percent alcohol. He hated him. So why couldn't he get the echoes of Gray's drunk confessions out of his head?
Reputations were often misleading and in that moment the conversation had been so frank and honest and real. He saw a side of Gray that wasn't just a front for the first time… unless of course it was all lies. At least, Lucy was convinced that Loke was completely different from the rumours as shown in a stream of excited texts over the last couple of days. Could it be the same for Gray?
Dropping down onto his knees, Gray dug around in his bag while the dampness soaked through his jeans and the nostalgic chill kissed his skin. He emptied a block of ice onto the frost bitten grass, stroked over the smooth edges of the gravestone and began to work. It was an almost ritual-like routine that he had adopted over these six years.
A few chunks of ice already littered the space around him, clear circuit boards and wiring half encased in the remains of Lyon's creations. There were also a few white roses and flower carvings which was rare but even Ultear would pay her respects at this time of year. Ur had taught them all about art and sculpture. She was a brilliant teacher but Gray had still never quite got his head around how she and Lyon could hide motors inside ice and make it move.
Ice was fragile. Ice was clear cut and see through. Ice was all he knew. Ur had wanted to give them freedom with art, where anything was possible and could be created as soon as you imagined it. An ideal world where you took the cold, harsh bitterness in your hands and shaped it to give it new life but now they were trapped in the past and it was all Gray's fault.
What idiot would catch a glimpse of his long dead father and run out into a main road to follow it. An impulsive, irrational child who hadn't even cared about his own life at that moment, that's who, but of course Ur had been right behind him and pushed him out of the way just before getting hit by a car. Lyon told them over Ur's hospital bed that Gray could have avoided the whole thing and that he almost definitely could have made it across the road without Ur sacrificing herself for him. It was his fault she was in a coma. It was his fault that after three years they could no longer afford the huge hospital fees and Lyon had to pull the plug. It was his fault she was dead. In not accepting his father's death, he had taken the life of yet another of his parents.
He sat there empty. His insides feeling as numb as his bare hands handling the ice although he was sure he couldn't feel the reassuring bite of the cold as much as he used to. This was how he survived, emotionless, hollow and cut off from anyone who might care for him too much and put themselves in danger in the process.
Tucking away his tools and placing the finished work in the centre of the grave, Gray made to leave but was stopped by something warm and fluffy jumping into his lap. A little cat rubbed itself up against his chest and batted at the ends of his scarf while Gray brought a hesitant hand up to pet it. Soft vibrations rumbled through the soft, dyed fur and he noticed a pair of grubby fairy wings strapped to the cat's back.
"Who the fuck puts wings on a cat," he muttered while straightening out the battered wings and attempting to wipe off some of the grime. Before he had the chance to wonder if the cat was lost, he heard footsteps pounding up the path and looked up to see a familiar flash of pink hair running towards him. "Fuck."He leapt up ignoring the indignant mewl from the cat and strode away as fast as he could, hoping that he hadn't been noticed.
"Happy, thank god that's where you were. I don't know why you like it so much in the cemetery." Natsu sighed wrapping his arms around the cold body. "Who was that guy you were with, it looked like someone I know but that just shows how overactive my imagination has got." He laughed before glancing over the grave they were standing on.
Lumps of ice were strewn through the grass along with flowers, propellers and various other mechanical parts. In the centre was a beautifully crafted sculpture of a woman looking angelic surrounded by the remnants of old works and offerings for the dead. A dull feeling spread through Natsu's stomach as he realised where he'd seen this artwork before and his eyes moved up to the gravestone.
"UR MILKOVICH – SHE FACED OUR DEMONS SO WE DIDN'T HAVE TO."
Ur's anniversary... Shit.
Hello I'm back! Had to take a break to write for Gratsu week even though I didn't quite finish those and I honestly needed a break with this just to keep the story moving. I have about four more half written chapters at the moment so we should be good for a few weeks but with school and everything the updates might be a bit more random. Always on a Sunday though. Next chapter will be filler/timeskip so I can get my numbers right for the big shit storm that is coming after that but should hopefully still give some insight and stuff. Anyway brace yourselves for the chapter after next – bye!
