Sixty follows! Thanks! I love you all! XD

Bleachers, if you're reading this, I apologize for drawing the reveal out so much. It's meant to be for the characters itself, the reveal, although I realize that you're all along for the ride. And yes, anyone past the Hueco Mundo arc knows who the Eight is. Let's not spoil though! Pleeeeease?

Also, Imma keep count of how many different times I could have blurted out the name of the Eight.

Fairy Tailers, if you're reading this, I hope the reveal isn't driving you insane because you're just wondering who the Eight is. Well, rest assured, the name will be said either by the end of this chapter or the beginning of the next.

Also, this story contains GaLe. And NaLu. And Gruvia. And JErza. And Grimmjow x Cana. Mainly the first and last.

This chapter! Everyone's saying weird shit today. What the hell's gotten into them? Oh wait. Silly me, I totally forgot that Fairy Tail's always like that.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own either Bleach or Fairy Tail, although I wish I was that lucky. No OC's this time.

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR ALL OF BLEACH AND MOST OF FAIRY TAIL! READ AT YOUR DISCRETION...


Chapter Twelve: Because Death Would Be Merciful

...


Cana

...

Man, I hate mornings, don't you?

Maybe you're wondering my reasons. Well, of course there's the obvious. As a devoted drunkard, it makes sense that the rising of the sun spells doom and woe and hangovers for me—mainly the last one.

But this was different. After the whole argument that had happened just ten or so hours before, I didn't feel like staying home. Home was boring as hell, and back there I didn't have a good enough ice pack for the burning mess of nerves and bruises that was my right hand. The entire ordeal had left me nauseous, to the point where sleep had been fruitless. I had gone to Macao's place and woken him and Romeo, both of which had insisted that we wake up Wakaba too so he could suffer with us. And it was only five in the morning, too. Could have been so much worse, I could have just never let them sleep.

But one particular grumpy old father was still pissed about it, apparently. Boo-hoo, maybe he shouldn't get drunk every time a job goes so well! "You bi...I mean dirty woman," Macao hastily corrected, noticing that Romeo was trekking behind him groggily.

"Oh, for the love of god, Conbolt, stop trying to censor the kid," exclaimed Wakaba, exhaling a surprisingly large cloud of smoke into the air. "He hears too much just hanging out with Natsu and the others."

"Such wisdom! And here I thought you had a hangover."

"Smoke it away, I say."

"That doesn't work and you don't say that."

Romeo yawned loudly and I placed a hand on his head, getting him to utter a half-assed mutter of satisfaction that made it sound a little more like a seizure than anything else. "Jeez, Macao, better take your kid to the hospital when it opens up, he's actin' funny."

A dismissive wave. "Nah, he's fine. He's always like this when I wake him up."

"You'd never know it the way he acts at the guild," I muttered. Romeo wasn't a full-fledged fairy yet, that would come when he finally started learning magic. But whenever he was at the guild, he acted same as all of us. He was like a little Fairy Tail fan club, he liked everything about the guild and idolized everyone there. "I don't know about you, but he's like a bouncing ball of energy whenever I see him."

Romeo yawned and rubbed his eyes, falling into step beside me. "That's because I save the negativity for school."

The thought of that made me shudder. If he was that happy around us, just what was he like in a public elementary? "I'll bet you're a real handful when you're there."

The boy's eyes immediately grew shifty. "...Sometimes," Romeo answered evasively. "But I'm not there much. When Dad's on a job, I stay at the guild. Or sometimes I just stay at the guild anyway."

"What? Hey, now, you can't just skip out on school!" Cue Macao's scarce fatherly instincts. He apparently didn't know where his kid was sometimes. Good parenting, man. Good job.

"So you didn't even notice that I was skipping school?!"

"...Erm..."

"At least there aren't bullies at the guild," Romeo said, casting a dirty glare at his father. "Fairy Tail has idiots instead."

That made me think of something. "Hey, speaking of the guild, kid, you weren't there last night, were you?"

The livid look Macao gave me was enough of a confirmation. But he didn't know that, so he replied, "He heard plenty."

"...There's no need to get like that, guys." Thankfully, Wakaba noticed the brewing fight and drifted between us, normally squinted eyes sending wave after wave of empathy my way. After all, he had to deal with Macao twice as much as I did. "But I can understand why he'd be upset with you, Cana. You're not normally as angry as you were then."

He was right. I had been furious with Grimmjow for discarding the guild as little more than an obstacle. But after the fight, my anger had subsided. Disappeared, almost. And now? I just felt bad. I hadn't been looking at things from his perspective, he had been right about that if not anything else. He was in a world he didn't know, with people he didn't know, in a situation that he had no control over. At least I knew where I was, and sort of what I wanted to do with myself. Grimmjow wasn't so lucky. So I felt that I owed it to him to do something as a sort of apology. When I got to the guild, I wanted to make sure of two things—

A.) That he had gotten my note.

B.) That he woke up to a friendly face.

I guess I kinda owed Macao an apology too, of a much lower caliber. Macao's been sorta like a MUCH older brother to me for years, really. I guess he was worried about the flareup like any big bro would be. Wakaba was right in saying that I was never that angry, and I bet it scared him.

"Sorry, Macao," I said, and he gave me a terse nod. I guess, since he knew me, just a few words were all he needed.

"Relax, Cana. I'm not angry with you. I just worry about you somet—what the f**k is that?!"

Suddenly, Macao forgot to censor himself and stopped walking, looking ahead at...something. I don't know what, it was kinda dark out and foggy as hell. But the look on his face told me it was something bad.

"Daaad," said Romeo as he pulled himself out of his groggy trance to complain. Macao said nothing.

"The hell's up with you, seen a ghost or something like that?" Wakaba exclaimed.

We found out what "that" was as soon as we looked where Macao was looking.

And "it" was our building.

"It" was being generous. What I saw wasn't a building, it was an abomination. A mass of destruction and debris, practically falling over as we watched.

I refused to believe it. At least, until I saw the sign hanging limply over the front door, the silhouette of a fairy leaping into flight.

This was Fairy Tail.

The guild hall looked like a shadowed behemoth, a giant structure with dozens of spikes jutting out from it as if daring anyone to get close. Like some dead bug just lying there in the middle of our city, doomed to die. Imagine! Our wonderful, amazing, perfect guild hall reduced to rubble-covered beachfront property by the seaside.

Who could've done this?!

Phantom Lord.

The name of that guild shot to the front of my mind. They were the only guild who would dare do this. Normally it would take longer to figure it out, but not now. Nobody buy Phantom would dare. They were equal to us in power—a Wizard Saint for a guild master, a group similar to our S-Class, and just as many normal members as us, if not more. They had branches and members everywhere. And they hated us.

"Son of a bitch," breathed Wakaba, for once not exhaling a giant cloud of smoke. You knew he was troubled if he wasn't spewing exhaust fumes from his mouth.

Beside me, Romeo started to cry, grabbing onto his dad's coat and burying himself in it. And that had been just one look.

I felt like crying myself, but the last thing I wanted to do was worry him more. Worrying on the inside was more my strong suit. On the outside, lividity shone through. My hands clenched into fists as I hissed, "Those Phantom bastards, I'll kill them myself for this!"

I could hear Macao's teeth grinding from here. "You're sure it was Phantom?"

"Positive. It's only them who would do something like this!"

"It's not like they could gain anything from it!"

"Well, at least it happened in the night. That means nobody was there when it was attacked, right?" Macao put a light hand on my shoulder, as if to calm me down, and that's when I remembered.

Grimmjow. Grimmjow ate, slept and lived in the guild.

He was in that hellhole.

"You're wrong," I answered, my heart suddenly shooting up into my throat. Immediately, I threw my sidebag down and ran to the guild, and I didn't give a crap if Macao and Wakaba and the kid were following me or not. Even though I heard their yells of warning, heard their feet thundering after me, I didn't turn back.

I hit the swinging doors head on, expecting to push through, but there was only the slightest give in the wood as it creaked from stress. Well, I wasn't about to give up that easily—I pulled a few of my magic cards from my pocket and threw them at the doors, where they lodged themselves in the space between the two, and turned away with my hands over my ears.

The explosion nearly blew the doors off their hinges and me along with them, but moments after the light died down, I ran back through the smoke and grabbed hold of the door handle.

"Grimmjow! Are you in here?" I couldn't hide the worry in my voice as I pushed through the doors and was met with silence. And upon seeing the damage to the guild, I almost had a heart attack.

Not a single portion of the interior guild was still perfectly intact. Pillars of steel and iron jutted through the walls and ceiling from above, crisscrossing each other and seemingly coming from everywhere. The top floor was demolished, the lobby level in shreds, and the stairwell connecting the two sustaining several large pillars jammed through its structure. Holes in the wood floors and walls were everywhere, and everything was dark. I couldn't see much, but the glint of the pillars was plenty to illuminate the damage. This wasn't an attack, this was a warzone. Everything was destroyed, wrecked beyond belief.

And he wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Grimmjow!" I yelled again, darting around the scattered metal beams to find him. Where?! Where was he? He had to be here, he said he wasn't going anywhere, where could he have gone?

"Where the hell are—" I began, but then I saw what looked like a flash of bright blue reflected against one of the furthest beams. I only knew that shade of blue to exist in one naturally occurring place.

Thank god. I weaved through a few pillars breaking through the floor and made my way towards him, until I was kneeling by his side.

He was by the bar, no surprise, and I knew it was him for certain due to more than just the hair. I could see his unmistakable figure from the dull glint of the iron. Macao's lantern was in pieces by his side, a puddle of wax and grease spilling through the floor panels. But not just grease—at the end of the puddle closest to him, it took on a distinctive red hue.

But I couldn't see well enough to really see him. I needed to, but I couldn't.

I gulped. "Macao, keep Romeo outside and gimme some light."

"Why the hell should I?!" the feisty bastard yelled back. Nonchalant as ever.

"Just do it!"

Not a moment later, I heard the sound of pattering feet as he sprinted out of the doorway to do what I asked. He forgot the light, naturally, but it wasn't so urgent that I needed to call him back in.

"Wakaba, take Romeo back to your place and get Warren to contact the Master and the others in the guild," I heard Macao instruct the smoker. Good, it wasn't right for Romeo to see the guild like this. And if he saw the inside...

I bit my lip and turned my attention back to Grimmjow, his insensate body now more visible in the dull light of the iron. But seeing did in no way calm me down. He was in a physically impossible position—his head and shoulders were against the bar counter, but the pillar that had pinned him had done so in a way that threatened to crack his spine from the stress. One of his legs had been pinned under a toppled barstool as well, twisted just to the breaking point. And his skin was eerily pale, more so than usual. I wonder how long he'd been there.

Tenderly, I reached forward, my fingers moving inch by inch until they locked around his wrist.

I waited twenty seconds.

Nothing. No pulse.

"I..." My voice was a heightened whisper, barely more than that. "Macao, I think there's a casualty."

Saying it was a mistake, because hearing my own words made it seem possible that something like this could have actually happened to Grimmjow. But that was impossible. He was super powerful, this was nothing to someone who could gain an upper hand on Laxus and survive the worst of a Dreyar. Any second, he was gonna sit up and shrug the damn thing off effortlessly and say, "Made ya look."

Without noticing, I found myself just staring at his face, wondering when he was gonna pop up start cussing me out for falling for this whole charade. It wasn't even a hope, it was just waiting. He had to do it.

...Heh. He had the same expression on his face that he had when he was sleeping. Relaxed and yet still kinda pissed at the same time. The only difference now was that he wasn't moving.

Dammit, I don't know what came over me again, but my fingers found their way to his and entwined themselves loosely with his. His hand was cold. Very.

It scared me. I barely knew the son of a bitch, and I didn't know why I felt this way, but it scared me to think I might lose him.

I leaned a little closer and whispered to him, "Bastard, please don't make me go through this whole near-death thing again."

It was silent for a moment. I didn't know what to do.

Somehow, I blamed myself for this. I had just come to see him. I had let myself blow up at him, and the last word he said to me wasn't even my real name. Just a stupid made up thing that wasn't right. And I had let him just be angry with me, and I had been angry with him.

And now he was...

Maybe...it would have been different if I had come a little sooner...?

...Then what? Could I have saved him? I don't know, if something hurt an S-Class member, how could I possibly do anything against it?

It was eerily silent for a moment, and the guild was dark. My head hung as my heart assumed the worst.

And then, with no warning, he let out a quiet cough.

"Who..." Grimmjow's eyes cracked open in the slightest. "That you, 'Berona?"

I didn't say anything, just stared back at him with a mixture of what I think might have been shock and elation and shitloads of confusion. What could I say? He had known it was me, but it was too dark to see from where he was. How did he understand, how did he realize it was me and not someone else?

He managed to cough out a quiet laugh somehow, even when his lungs were being crushed under that unimaginably heavy pillar. And then his hand clenched even tighter around mine, just to the point where a little more pressure would hurt. Oddly gentle at the same time, however.

"Weird as hell, ain't it?... I recognized your hand."

He what?

My mouth was a little slow on the uptake—dry too—but eventually I repeated what my brain had come up with. "You what?"

"Feels soft," he muttered, loosening up slightly. "S'nice feelin'. Just like a normal hand, too—ya know, five fingers 'n all that shit."

I could feel my face getting hot at that, I pray he didn't see it. "Are you drunk? Please tell me you're drunk."

"I dunno," Grimmjow said with a weird half-smile on his face. Definitely a little under the influence. "Feels like it. You put somethin' in those cans I didn't know 'bout?"

"What?" I complained meekly, since I didn't have the energy to fight. "Look, it's not my fault you're here."

"Hey, now, don't lookit me like that... Y'know, I started writing a note back to yours, and that's when I got ambushed, bitch." The first fully coherent sentence he had formed, and even then he had a sort of dazed lisp that made him barely intelligible. He wet his lips, almost nervously. "But thanks for the drink."

"Thanks for accepting the drink, asshole."

"Asshole?" He scoffed weakly and then winced. "Tch. That's uncalled for, ya slut."

"I can give my honest opinion."

"True...if we're really persons now, as your note suggested, we should be willing to acknowledge each other's flaws...am I right?"

"Screw you," I replied snappily, but it was hard to hide the grin. How the hell was he making me feel so relaxed in such a situation? He could die, and I knew it, and I was scared, and maybe he was too, but all the same I doubted I could stop.

"Oh, they're having a touching moment together," crooned Macao from the entrance. His voice reminded me that there was in fact a Grimmjow in front of me being crushed by a five-ton iron pillar that was pinning him against the wall.

"Shut up, Conbolt."

"Wakaba got Warren to contact the rest of the guild, but we're still having some trouble getting some members. I'm waiting outside until Porlyusica or the Master gets here," Macao called back. "So see what you can do until they arrive."

"Got it. Grimmjow, can you move at all?" I asked.

After a moment, his eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head. "...No. An' even if I had the strength to, I've still got a hella headache...barely even see right now."

I guess that made sense. Even with all his incredible powers, it was way too much of a risk to try and burn the thing off at such close range. Especially if he couldn't focus on it. He'd just make his condition worse.

There's always some first-aid stuff behind the bar, destroyed or no, so I stood and reached over the mangled counter and grabbed the dull metal box full of supplies. Let's see...bandages, bottle of pills labeled 'painkillers', ointment and some other things that looked like operating tools. I'd leave those to the hag. "Alright then, since I can't move the pillar myself, I'm just gonna have to try and treat you while it's still there. Let me see what I can do..."

My bravado faltered as I noticed that he was not, in fact, wearing his jacket. Damn, he looked good. Even half dead. And with a hole. "Erm...may I?"

Even through the haze, he gave me a deadpan look. "Don't tell me yer squeamish around blood."

It's not the blood I'm squeamish about.

That bastard must've been telepathic or something, because he sighed and relaxed a little with an odd little smile on his lips. "...Oh, now I get it. Whaddaya want me ta do about it?"

So he was terrified around girls but had no problem making me feel the same?

Ass.

My face was burning up as I practically forced a painkiller down his throat, which may or may not have been a little much but if it would shut him up then I really didn't give a shit. I think he looked a little shocked when I suddenly thrust my hand to his mouth and gave him the damn thing, but the second I pulled back his muscles relaxed and this semi-peaceful look slid over his face.

"Y'know, if you hadn't done that," he snickered, suddenly looking like he was on Cloud 87, "I would've taken what I said back—"

"They're here! Mira and the Master just arrived!" Macao came running in like a triathlon athlete, leaping over the debris to land at my side. And when he saw Grimmjow, he swore loudly. "How the hell does he get this beat up?!" he exclaimed, which granted me the merciful reprieve needed to get ahold of myself.

"It's a gift," Grimmjow muttered back weakly, just before swearing as he once again tried and failed to move the pillar. "F**k everything... Damn, this hurts!"

"It's got you pinned against shattered wood, of course it hurts. Hang on, the others are coming soon. Master's trying to find out which of the pillars leads over here so he can remove it."

As Macao spoke and took off his jacket, Grimmjow's hand loosened its grip on mine. Then his fingers moved so that they weren't entwined with mine, gliding over my knuckles instead.

"Huh," he said, sounding confused and drained. The painkiller was kicking in. "Bandages... Wh...where did you get those from?"

How exactly to respond to that... "Um, your face."

"Hmm?" His eyes wandered for a moment before coming back to me, just two dully glowing blue orbs losing their shine. Suddenly, he seemed to remember. "The...the argument. You punched me."

"Unsuccessfully," I added, and he chuckled.

"Not 's bad as you think. Determined, just not enough force. Maybe...I'll show ya the ropes someday."

"That...I guess that'd be nice."

"Good. You fight like a girl."

"I am a girl."

"No shit," he whispered, eyes narrowing. He was definitely high on something. It was either the beer, which I don't think was it, or the painkiller, which probably wasn't it either. He was just dazed by the impact, that must've been it.

Macao cast a weird look at me, then at Grimmjow, then at our hands, and then at the aid kit. "You know, I'm never gonna understand kids."

"'M not a kid," Grimmjow hissed, letting out a grunt of pain at the effort of trying to be angry.

"Yuh-huh, sure. Tell you what. Start acting like you're more than twenty and I'll treat ya like you are."

He let out a sigh of annoyance and turned so he was looking at the doorway to the guild. "Whatever."

"Not really furthering your point, kid."

Just then, the Master's voice came thundering inside from somewhere on the roof. "Is this the one?" As he said that, the pillar holding Grimmjow down began to shake, knocking loose a few chunks of the ceiling.

"Yeah, it's that one!" Macao called back. "Whenever you're ready, Master!"

The pillar shook violently and began to shift upwards, very slowly at first. And his reaction was instantaneous—Grimmjow put his hand back in mine and held on tighter than before, so suddenly that I yelped. "Damn, be careful!"

"Oh, right. S'rry," he said through gritted teeth, but he didn't change anything. Aw, hell, no point in complaining anyway, he wouldn't change anything.

The second the pillar was a foot off of his chest, Master pulled the entire thing out all the way. Grimmjow moaned and tried to pull himself up into a seated position, but halfway through he just gave up and slid down to the floor.

"I thought that'd help, but it really didn't," he muttered. "Still feels like shit."

Well, as for the wounds, they could've been worse. The trauma was probably the worst part. If he had stayed there for any longer, it would've been much worse. But he just got off with a large bruise across his lower torso, and a cut on the left side from the initial impact.

"It could've been shittier, though."

"Sure, I guess." He sighed again and winced at the feeling, closing his eyes. "Y'know, I never did sleep tonight. Maybe...it's a good idea ta do that now."

Within moments he was out. I almost got worried, until I noticed that he looked considerably less strained than he had when I had found him.

Macao swore loudly and looked like he was about to wake him up, but I stopped him before he gave him CPR. "Let him relax. I don't think he's in too bad of a shape, so we should let him get the rest he probably missed."

His eyes narrowed. "Someone just grew a heart."

"Bastard."

Master and Mira came thundering in with Warren, who looked like he was using his communication magic to contact someone. "Porlyusica-san, this is Warren, can you... Well, alright, then please send Szayel down to the guild? ...Yes, I know how late it is...and I understand that it's dangerous to walk in the forest, but... Yes, I know how worthless we are. You make this point all the time... Understood. We'll be here waiting."

He removed his fingers from his forehead, announcing, "Porlyusica is sending Szayel over soon—"

"Soon?" exclaimed said apothecary's apprentice from the doorway. Somehow, Szayel was already here. "She sent me as soon as she got your call."

Macao grinned tensely. "See, the old lady does have a heart every now and then."

The Master was oddly silent, but at last he walked to Macao's side and asked, "How is he doing?"

"Well enough, I guess. He'll probably be out for a while."

He nodded. "Good. Szayel, I look to you to make sure he's in prime condition. We need him to finish paying off his debt sooner or later."

"...What?!" Even Szayel was shocked by the callousness in the Master's voice as he trekked downstairs and disappeared into the dark. Moments later, a sound like cracking glass told me Master was planning on getting drunk.

"Erm, he didn't mean that, right?"

"Of course not, Macao! He's just stressed out and trying to hide it, I'm sure that's it."

"Alright. Come on, Mira, help me bring him downstairs. We'll get Szayel to take a look at him in a little bit."

"No need to wait. I'm here, I'll do it now, and I'll leave before he realizes."

"Okay then, but help us bring him down."

"To the couch, I take it?"

"Right."

"Watch the door, Macao!"

"Ow! Son of a bitch!"

"She did tell you to watch out."

"Shut up!"

I tuned the group out as they headed down the staircase, instead thinking about something else. He said he'd finished it, so where'd he put the note?

Behind the bar, of course. Where he had found it. I stood and reached behind, withdrawing the thing after a few moments.

I unfolded the note and skimmed what he had written, my head running circles around itself. Huh. Confusing. All those numbers in other languages made my brain hurt. It was nice to know he wasn't planning to wimp out on me for the drink-off, though. Feeling a need for something simpler, I turned it over, reading the last message he had left.

...

It's pretty neat to have an alcoholic around, don't you think? Persons aren't so bad, I guess.

...

I folded it back up with a little smile and tucked it in my pocket, buttoning it safely inside where I was sure I couldn't lose it. I didn't care what the message on the other side was all about, even if I was kinda curious.

Personally, I liked the ending well enough.

...


Fate

...

Erza was pissed.

Why? Multiple reasons.

First, Phantom Lord was filled to the brim with assholes.

Second, the Master apparently didn't give a shit.

Third, they had attacked Grimmjow. Not that she cared. But as much as she hated him and his guts, he was still a guild member.

Fourth, the attacker had been "Black Steel" Gajeel Redfox. Not much of a surprise, however. If anyone hated the fairies, it was him.

Fifth, nobody had even bothered to tell her that this had happened—she had had to figure it out for herself when she saw the guild in the morning.

Right now, everyone was in the basement. Fairy Tail was never such a quiet place, which is what disturbed her as soon as she entered. Usually, the basement was for storage, but now it looked like a makeshift tavern of sorts. The place smelled strongly of alcohol—particularly that of the sorrow-drowning variety.

And of every drunkard there, nobody could have been more inebriated than the Master.

"Yo, whassup, kiddos?!" Makarov exclaimed, raising a beer mug in greeting as Erza led Gray, Lucy and Natsu over to his table. Beside him, Mira looked about as annoyed and upset as she could be.

"Erm..." Lucy cast a glance at Erza in confusion, and the redhead had no better response than a shake of her head. "Hi...?"

"Forgive us for not being here sooner," Erza finished, the rationale draining out of her voice despite the fact that she was trying so very hard not to cut something in half out of fury.

Thankfully, Natsu showed it for her. "Oye, why the hell're you just sitting around here, doing nothing?!"

"Lu-chan, you finished your job like a good little girl, now?" Master slurred, ignoring Natsu completely, and Lucy took a nervous step back.

"Uh...yeah, I guess so?"

"Don't ignore me, dammit, old geezer!"

Erza sighed tensely. "Master, don't you realize the gravity of this situation? The guild hall has—"

"It's all been completely f**ked up by those Phantom assholes!" Natsu roared, but the old man appeared unfazed.

"No need to get so worked up, hothead-chan. 'S not the end of the world or anything," he muttered, draining the mug in his hand.

"What?" Gray stated simply, seeming about as confused as he could be. "Do you even hear yourself, Master?"

"It's not like we should worry or anythin', since they're all cowards there. They struck when only the newbie neko was here, so what's there to brag about?"

"Yes," Erza rebutted, "and he was injured in the attack!" Her gaze was drawn to the man resting on the coveted couch next to the staircase, no longer unconscious but instead just asleep. He had been the only victim, and maybe it could've been worse, but a victim was still a victim and an attack was still an attack. And Erza was still furious.

Lucy whimpered. "Oh, I hope he's okay..."

"Pfft, a scratch."

(A/N: Picture Makarov as Mercutio from Boz Luhrmann's Romeo and Juliet and you get the picture.)

Makarov groaned and said, "Why should we give a crap about cowards who can't even fight us head-on? Just forget about them, I say."

"Raaagh!" Natsu slammed his fist into the wall in an outrage. "Ain't gonna f**king happen, Gramps! Nope! We can't just let them trash our guild and get away with it!"

"I'm not talking about this any longer. We can take requests down here until the repair is finished."

"Why the f**k should we care about jobs right now?!"

Not good. Everyone's watching us, this is going to upset them. "Natsu," Erza warned. "Enough."

"Natsu! That's enough outta you!" Master yelled, but for some reason when he reached up to punch him he ended up lightly smacking Lucy on the ass.

"Um, and you spanked me because...why?"

"Hands to yourself, Master," Mira muttered, and the old man withdrew as he got to his feet.

"Hey, where the hell're you going?"

"Keep your dress on, Natsu," he burbled as he danced off the table. "I gotta take a leak."

Natsu watched as the old man disappeared into the far reaches of the bathroom. "Why's he actin' like this?"

A sigh escaped Mira. "He's just as upset as we are. Please just try to bear with it for now, until he relaxes a little."

"...Fine, but I still think we need to beat the sense into those jerks."

The guild was silent after he said it, and Erza knew everyone was thinking it. Everyone wanted Phantom to pay for destroying the guild hall.

"That's it." All of a sudden, Levy stood up from her table with a distressed look on her face. "This place is getting too depressing. Jet, Droy, let's go."

"Of course, Levy-chan."

"Oh, you're leaving now?" Cana said. "Wait a while, hon. Not the best timing right now."

"Relax, I'll be fine. I've got Shadow Gear on my side, we'll be perfectly safe!"

"You had better be, you three!" Lucy called out to them, getting a wave back in response.

The door slammed shut behind them, and Erza suddenly had a funny feeling that something was about to go very wrong.

...


Fate

...

Gajeel didn't remember the last time he'd had this much fun with anyone.

He wasn't exactly a fun type of guy—yeah, that'd definitely be stretching it. And his fun was very, very different from the fun of, say, the fairies. They had fun in weird ways, like hanging out at a cafe or going to the library to read.

Well, that dumbass shit wasn't for Gajeel Redfox, no sirree. He hated coffee, the bitterness was nothing compared to the satisfaction of sweet fiery alcohol streaming down his throat. Yeah...booze and iron, his nectar and his ambrosia. And come on, who actually liked reading? That was boring. Reading was a task, not something you did to enjoy yourself. And the fiction stuff was all full of lies, about everything. He didn't like lies much.

No, Gajeel preferred straight-up bluntness and reality. And his type of fun was the type where, one way or another, he heard a scream.

Fight. The fight made up his every fiber, it was in his blood and bones, it was the iron, it was him. To fight was to live, and to live was to fight, and the sweet sadistic pain of those who dared challenge him was all he lived for.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

Jobs were the same, he took the ones that gave him something interesting to do. Maybe a kidnapping, maybe catching some very bad men—they had to be worse than him or there wasn't any challenge in catching them. On rare occasion he did things that didn't consist of causing bodily harm to someone else, but those were ripoff jobs and he only did them if the Phantom Lord request board didn't have anything worth doing or he needed the cash.

Those shit jobs didn't happen often, though. The master of his guild, Jose Porla, practically worshipped him as an apprentice of sorts—and as a renowned man of mischief, one way or another he made sure that Gajeel had plenty of work to go around. It's not that Gajeel actually enjoyed lackeying to that sick demented penny-pinching bastard, but the pay was great and the man was powerful as hell. In fact, he was on par with some of the strongest wizards in Fiore—the Ten Wizard Saints. And because Gajeel understood that it was either serving Jose or living off the metal scraps the streets, he "lovingly" chose to go with Jose.

So when Jose announced that he had a new project for Gajeel, he didn't complain and took it same as he would any other shit job.

The man that Jose introduced to him must not have had a name—and if he did, he wasn't budging on the matter and refused to tell. His body was in totally awkward proportions, way too tall and way too skinny to possibly balance, with pale skin and jet-black hair that made him look like a ghost. Yet somehow, he towered over Gajeel and the master, which was saying something 'cuz neither of them was a pushover. No, that other mystery man was more sinister-looking than even Gajeel, which was also saying something. One narrow tan eye stared him down from high above, the other covered by a white eye patch that seemed to hide something more than just an injury. He wore a baggy slate-colored hoodie and jeans, which looked strange on him because it looked just too normal for a guy like him.

Apparently, he was Gajeel's new "apprentice"—an arrangement that neither of them liked. In fact, the first thing the man had said to him was basically a long monologue in which he detailed "just how damn unlikely it was that he'd ever respect Gajeel as a master because Gajeel was a stupid piece of shit and he didn't bow to shit."

Charming.

Ah, friendship, what a mystery to Gajeel. His were always strained at best. Like the one he grudgingly shared with the Rainwoman. And now Jose was suddenly forcing a colleague on him? Oh, that shouldn't be problematic at all.

And everyone who knew Gajeel knew how the last apprentice deal had gone.

He didn't like that nameless bastard, not even a little. For one thing, he made Gajeel look so...so unscary. Most people related Gajeel to a shadow—dark, conniving, mysterious, and almost undoubtedly evil. He even had those bloodred eyes that glowed like two little flamethrowers in his skull if the light fell on him the wrong way. Add the metal piercings scattered across his body and the giant black mop of hair that fell well past his waist, and he basically looked like some sort of punk demon. But compared to the pale man, Gajeel wasn't all that intimidating. The man even had a giant-ass scythe shaped like two crescent moons that he carried with him wherever he went. It made him look like a f**king Grim Reaper, it did.

And still... His attitude was so like Gajeel's, he couldn't help feeling like it was hard to hate him for too long. Though Gajeel seemed to be the only one in Phantom Lord besides Master Jose who could even tolerate the newcomer. They argued constantly wherever they went, so perhaps it was that same mutual hatred that made them so glued together. They trailed each other like hatchlings following a mother hen...except mother hens didn't exactly start fights with their offspring like Gajeel and his "apprentice" did. And when they did, it was always a draw. The man's scythe on Gajeel's Sword of the Iron Dragon, a goddamn f**king tie every time.

Actually, the man was never even trying against him, when Gajeel had given every fight his all. But Gajeel never knew that.

The man had insisted upon tagging along with Gajeel when Jose had sent him on a mission. Nothing much—just to deal some damage to the Fairy Tail guild hall a couple of towns away, but still he persisted. Wasn't anything too special, though Gajeel knew that the attacks on Fairy Tail would escalate quickly. And how could either one of them say no to such an opportunity? The prospect of destroying something was too tantalizing to deny.

So, on a simple night a week later, the two of them had set off into the city of Magnolia and roughed up that semi-empty building for a bit. Semi-empty because there had definitely been some other person there, either snooping around or just there after hours. But Gajeel had taken care of that bastard, who had nearly set the guild on fire when his lantern fell. That would be too much—if it burned down, nothing'd be left for the rest of the phantoms. He hadn't actually seen the man nor gone inside to check he was dead, but he had definitely felt his attack hit something alive. So unless the fairies kept giant-ass pets around the building overnight, which wasn't too farfetched of an idea, he had hit someone.

And then Gajeel basically made the Fairy Tail guild hall into a pincushion.

It didn't take long before the building looked like some sort of half-dead spider corpse with a dozen or so extra limbs that jutted out from weird angles. And Gajeel hadn't even needed the other man's help to mess it up that bad, not that he ever did. The bastard just watched and grumbled while Gajeel struck the building with blow after blow of endless iron. He just f**ked shit up, that was his specialty. Want him to break something? Bones, steel, whatever, he could do it. And it was simple, dirty, and fun—the perfect combo.

Jose had seemed pretty happy concerning Gajeel's work, and had basically given him leave to do whatever the hell he wanted next with Fairy Tail. So Gajeel had discussed with his new colleague the different possibilities of exploitation of this grace period, and eventually they decided upon a public display of Phantom Lotrd's strength. How? By showing the people who worshipped Fairy Tail just how misplaced their adoration was.

Enter Gajeel and mystery man, one day later, on a nondescript roof of a nondescript building somewhere in Magnolia overlooking a small section of the city matrix. In particular, one small group was being followed, not easily visible in the shadows of the night, but still easy enough to track.

What were they called again? Shadow Gear?

The target trio had been Gajeel's own choice—he just looked for people that the fairies seemed to like. A midget girl with two lackeys that constantly followed her wherever she went.

And from what he could tell, the girl in the trio he was going after was the biggest bookworm/cafe-runner that Fairy Tail had.

Che. Stupid.

She was a pretty little thing, though, he had to hand her that. And by little, he meant puny. Inquisitive doe eyes, messy blue hair held back by an orange piece of ribbon, skimpy little blue vest over a tiny yellow bra, sandals and white jean shorts. He couldn't remember the last time a woman so petite had left him yearning to see just a little more. Maybe being a reader had its perks? Not many girls joined Phantom—there was the Rainwoman, that chick with the mirrors, and Totomaru might as well have been a girl on account of his wimpiness, but that was about it. Decent girls were difficult to find in Gajeel's line of work, and this little girl only a few yards below him was quite unlike most other girls he'd seen.

Almost as if she'd read his mind or noticed the pairs of eyes watching her, she turned around and looked back at their hiding place up in the rooftops. He swore to himself and shrank behind the chimney that he was hiding behind.

"Ehh? What's wrong, Levy-chan?" one of the lackeys said as he fell into step beside her. He was fairly tall and lean, with carrot-colored hair and a foot-tall fur hat sitting on his head. Looked pretty serious, but not like he was a challenge or anything.

The girl shook her head, biting her lip. "I could have sworn I felt this...chill...or something like it."

Compliment graciously accepted, princess.

"What exactly do you mean?" Lackey #2 stopped walking ahead and turned around to face his leader in confusion. He looked a little taller than the first one, and had this odd hair curl atop his head that served to make him look like a seedling was sprouting from his braincase.

After a moment, she shook her head again. "I'm sure it was nothing, guys. Maybe it was just...anxiety about the guild?"

The weak proffer didn't do much for the two men, but they shrugged and kept walking. Their pace was pretty slow, so Gajeel could easily move to a better viewing point without fear of losing them.

He scoured the nearby rooftops and found another building similar to his, with a chimney on the top that would easily conceal him from the trio. "Oye, get ready to move—"

A sudden shift of tiles on the roof told Gajeel that his comrade had already left. That impulsive asshole! With a groan, Gajeel pulled himself away from the chimney and darted across to meet the man at the same roof that he'd already been considering.

Bastard," he muttered as he plopped down behind the chimney. "I didn't say to go just yet."

"Ah, put a sock in it, Redfox. Why're we even watching still?... Goddamnit. You've already taken a liking to the chick, haven't ya?" the other man deadpanned, sounding more annoyed than anything else.

"Hmm...what? Oh, nah. Not me," Gajeel said, following the girl's every movement with his eyes. "Ain't my type."

"Didn't think ya'd go for blue hair."

"I said she ain't my type," he repeated, and left it at that as the man started to laugh. Except it wasn't a nice laugh. It rubbed Gajeel the wrong way, it really did. So what if her hair was interesting?

"Then what is your type?" Persistent little twit.

"Someone who comes up past my waist."

Mercifully, only a snort met that remark. Wonder how much of his grating laugh it could take to kill a man.

"And you, mystery boy?"

"I'm not inta girls."

"Aha, so yer a man's man?"

"Oh, f**k you!" he snapped, jumping up from the railing where he had seated himself. "Not like that, bastard. Women're damn useless to everyone and everything. I don't need one, an' I've never needed one. Not even her."

The way he hissed "her" made it seem like "she" might as well have been Satan's mother or something, but Gajeel didn't comment further. So the man was a misogynist, okay, so what? Phantom Lord was full of them. Obviously, he hated that woman very, very much. Whoever "she" was. Probably some overbearing little bitch that kept lording herself over him.

Gajeel held his hands out in mock surrender. "Whoa, down boy! Don't get yer hair in a twist."

"Speak for yourself." He sat down on the ridge of the roof and played with the blade of his scythe, fingering it as if he was entranced by the shape.

They were silent as the group below them continued chatting, the girl taking the lead and walking ahead with both arms out to balance herself. "You guys shouldn't worry about me so much!"

"But are you sure this is ok?" Tophat muttered, hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, Levy," the other one added. "Wouldn't it be so much safer for you in the girl's dorm with Erza and the others?"

She laughed loudly. "It's fine! I don't wanna split up our team."

The two men consecutively had heart attacks and toppled over—and when they popped back up, it was like they had been shot with Cupid's arrow, wearing stupefied expressions on their bright red faces. Pathetic.

"Yeah, the three of us can face anything if we tackle it together!"

"I'll protect you, Levy-chan!"

"Hell no, I will!"

"Enough, Jet, Droy. Can't you both protect me?"

Jet and Droy, so those were the names of the lackeys.

And the girl was Levy.

Names could be useful.

Speaking of which. Gajeel looked over his shoulder at his new partner in crime and decided to ask again, fruitless as it was. "What'd you say yer name was?"

The man scoffed again. "I didn't, thought we went over this."

"Then what is it?"

"Why the hell should I tell you?"

"So I don't hafta keep callin' you things like 'you' or 'man' and the like."

"You're not worth the trouble."

That bastard, why is he being so difficult? It's a word. One f**king word. All he needs to do is say the damn word. "Fine, whatever ya say...kid."

Perfect thing to say—his eye started to twitch. "Oh, goddamn it, call me Five."

"Five?" Gajeel scoffed. "The hell kinda name is that?"

"It's not a name, dipshit. But if you're gonna call me a kid, I'd rather shoot myself. So call me Five."

He was right—Five wasn't a name. But Gajeel decided not to call him out on it, since at least he had something to refer to him as now.

It was annoying, really. Gajeel was listening to the conversation of the fairies and studying Five at the same time, trying not to make it too obvious that he was looking for reactions to, well, anything. But no. The man stolidly studied his fingernails, just idly listening to the two men chattering above the midget's voice.

"So what do you think's happening back at the guild?" Jet murmured, an aura of melancholy suddenly surrounding the trio.

Almost immediately, Droy glared at him, motioning to Levy, who had stopped walking. "Hey, Jet, let's just not talk about that right now."

"...It's fine, guys." A weak sigh escaped Levy as she turned to face them and put her hands back at her sides. When she spoke, her tone was reprimanding but still sympathetic. "Everyone at the guild is just as worried as we are, so there's no point in thinking too hard about it."

"But you saw what happened to Six at the guild! What if Phantom decides to do something like that to you?!"

Six? Must be that man I hit back last night.

Odd...Six and Five. Two number names in two days? What're the odds?

"That's not gonna happen," she affirmed stiffly. "He was surprised, he said so himself. But we're Fairy Tail wizards, and we don't let one attack get the best of us. I will never let myself be hurt like that, and I won't let them hurt you two either. We're a team, we can do anything!"

Jet melted a little from that, but he returned to normal within moments as his gaze darted around the alleyway. "That's right, Levy-chan, but still, we have to be careful here. What if something happens?"

"Nothing will happen!" she exclaimed, spinning on her heel and walking forward yet again. "And as for Grimm-san, that man has an incredible healing rate. So he'll be much better by the morning, I'm sure!"

At the word "Grimm-san", there was a reaction—Five's features went rigid.

"F**k you and your waiting, Redfox, we're doing it now," he said rapidly, anxiety suddenly shooting into his tone—and before Gajeel knew it, Five had leapt down from the rooftops.

Shit! Well, no more hiding now, not when Five had already blown their cover. Grudgingly, Gajeel moved himself from his vantage point and followed the man down to the street level. They already knew how this operation would work, even Jose had made sure that they cleared it with him so they didn't do too much damage. Five was a clear misogynist and didn't want to have anything to do with the girl if he could, so he'd take out the lackeys. At the same time, Gajeel would focus on the girl, since she was supposedly stronger than her lackeys from what he had discovered and catching her would honestly be so much more fun than beating up two nondescript minions who were probably gay for each other.

In hindsight, Gajeel chose a very poor angle to jump from—because instead of landing behind them all like he had planned, Five's rush had gotten to him and Gajeel landed directly on Levy. His feet slammed into her back with a jarring sensation, shoving her down onto the hard street with a muffled scream of surprise and pain. He got off quickly and pulled her limp form up by her wrist, just as Five landed and advanced on the lackeys.

It was almost like a tornado to Gajeel, he could barely see him. One second, Five was on the ground; the next, he was between the duo, slamming the butt of his scythe into Jet's stomach and using his free hand to throw Droy against the alley wall. The two didn't even have time to make a sound.

Just like that, Phantom Lord had them.

Much less fun than Gajeel had expected.

"What the hell—" Jet coughed up, doubling over from the blow at the same time as Droy slid down to the ground. He hadn't seen Five coming—and from the looks of it, neither had Levy or Droy.

Or Gajeel, but he wasn't about to admit that. It had been so sudden, the man's attack, not coordinated at all and yet somehow perfectly planned. A very strange way of fighting.

Five grabbed Droy by the hair and threw him down next to Jet, slamming the weapon's end into the redhead's back to shove him down. "Stay down, ginger! Wouldn't wanna use the sharp side of this thing."

"Well, lookit what we've got here," Gajeel said, smirking and spinning the girl around so he could see her expression. And oh, that look of unbridled hate and fear was priceless. It was rare that someone actually dared to show their anger outright with him. "One, two, three fairies, huh? What a surprise."

"You—you're from Phantom Lord," a terrified Levy breathed, so quietly that he could only tell she said it because her lips formed the words. "The one who attacked the guild..."

Well, he couldn't hide a malicious grin at that. "The very f**king same."

"What do you want?" she whispered hoarsely. Gajeel could see her trembling.

"Don't be such a wimp, ya little bitch!" Five suddenly yelled, and in a fit of annoyance he threw his scythe at the ground before him him. The blade buried itself halfway into the ground, narrowly missing Droy's head.

"Gaah! Who...who the hell are you?!" exclaimed the man, scrambling away from the blade with a satisfying look on his face.

Five's expression twisted into some demonic version of itself as he ripped his weapon from the ground and held it just in front of the man's neck. "Stow it. Gajeel, you got the girl?"

"No, I'm just holding 'er here for fun."

"Do I look like I'm f**king joking?" As Gajeel watched, the man growled and gestured to Levy, glaring her tiny shaking form down and addressing his comrade. "Ask her where she knows that name from."

"What name?"

"She said 'Grimm-san'," he gritted.

"So do it yourself!" Gajeel yelled. "Why the hell—"

"Just f**king do it, Redfox!"

Gajeel gritted his teeth in annoyance as he twisted the girl's arm behind her back, her piercing scream just for a moment alleviating his gloom. "You heard 'im, fairy, where'd ya hear the name?"

"Leave her alone!" Jet let out a yell at her cry, struggling to stand and failing. "Levy, don't tell them noth—"

"Quit it, shithead!" Five roared, slamming a foot into the man's abdomen. His features contorted in pain for a moment, then limply relaxed as he passed out and slumped over on the ground.

Levy—what a weird name for a girl, Gajeel suddenly realized—struggled fiercely against his iron grip, but at her midget size and nearly off the ground she couldn't possibly hope to stop two of Phantom's strongest. "Jet! Please, just leave them both alone!"

Five wasn't done, though—he turned on the other man in a whirl and did the same thing, kicking him once, twice, again, over and over, fresh hate in every blow. The man stopped screaming at last when Five pressed his foot to his throat and landed one last kick that knocked him blissfully unconscious.

"Droy!" And now little Levy was crying, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Don't do this, please!"

"Answer the damn question!" Five roared.

"He's a man in our guild!" Levy's eyes were scrunched tight, and she was trembling in Gajeel's grip. If she wasn't a pathetic fairy and if he was capable of empathy, he would have almost felt bad for her.

Five didn't like the answer—with no warning, he lunged in and roughly grabbed her chin so she could look him directly in his eye. "That's not a good enough answer to satisfy the Quinto, little fairy!"

And then he lifted the eyepatch with the tip of his scythe, and beneath it was just...nothing. No eye, just emptiness. A hole, a perfect circular hole surrounded by scars.

Now there's something you don't see everyday.

"Holy f**k, Five!" Gajeel practically yelled, almost forgetting to hold Levy back. "What the hell is that?! You've got a hole in your damn head, that's not damn healthy!"

No use—Five had already tuned him out, all animosity focused on Levy and Levy alone. "You know what this is, princesa?"

Her whimper of recognition was almost indistinguishable from her heart thumping against Gajeel's chest. It was a little awkward to feel, but Gajeel wasn't squeamish and instead let go of her so Five could take care of it. It looked like he had it under control from his end.

"A...a Hollow hole."

"Hey, down to the letter?! Oddly smart for a chick." All of a sudden, he began to smile, no teeth, just thinly stretched pale lips that unsettled even Gajeel. "If the guy I think you're talking about is who I think he is, he has one of these puppies in the middle of his goddamn chest. That right?"

She nodded silently, frenzied eyes dancing back and forth from the "Hollow" hole to her comrades and back to Five.

"You wouldn't happen to know where he's from, would you? For all I know, I'm talking 'bout a man and yer talking 'bout a deadman."

"I...I heard him talking with one of the girls at the guild...with Cana, during the whole incident with the Changeling spell," Levy replied, shaking and clenching her eyes shut as if to confirm to herself that this was just some random nightmare and not at all really happening. Wonder what that whole incident was about. "He...the girl that was in his body said that Grimm-san was from this other world, a world called...called Hueco Mundo or something like that."

"Grimm-san," Five echoed blankly. "So that's what they're calling him now? Not Pussycat anymore? ...Gimme the full name. Now, girlie, before I accidentally squeeze—" He pulled her up even closer, her toes now just barely brushing the pavement, "—yer skull a little too tight."

Struggling for breath, she tried to answer, but her lips made no sound. But that just made him angrier, and he yelled once more. "Spit it out, shrimp, before I rip it from your damn corpse!"

"G-Grimmjow!" she cried out, her hands trying to pull Five's clawing fingers from around her neck and failing. "His name is Grimmjow Jaegerjaques!"

Upon hearing the full name, Five snapped.

"Son of a bitch, I knew it!" he yelled—and before Gajeel could stop him, he spun around and threw the tiny girl up against the wall, where her head slammed forcefully against the leading of a window and she crumpled to the ground.

Just like that, the conscious light in Levy's eyes went out.

Five let out an infuriated scream and launched himself towards the other two insensate fairies, but at the last second Gajeel caught hold of the man's wiry frame and pulled him away. He wasn't so strong now that he was angry, and despite his immense height he was still unbelievably slim and more than enough for Gajeel to match physically.

"C'mon, damn it!" Gajeel coached, trying to appease Five before he did something stupid. "No sense beatin' the crap outta them if they can't feel it. And if ya kill them, Jose's gonna have my ass. Mine, not yours."

Thankfully, Five took a deep breath and pulled away, instead picking up the lackeys and putting one over each shoulder. "Guess you're right, Redfox."

Gajeel just had to ask—"Who the hell was that guy you're so hung up on?"

As he watched, Five slid his finger along the inner curve of the blade and scowled. "The little f**ker should be dead. I did it myself, he should be sleepin' with the sand lizards."

Okay, I'm not even gonna ask on that one. "Hey, calm down, Five," he replied. "Let's just get the job done, and you can worry about it when Jose decides to attack the fairies. But until then, we have a f**king tree to decorate."

Silence. Gajeel retrieved the girl from the ground and wrapped an arm around her torso to carry her. She was light as paper, no surprise at her size.

"...That's right," Five said after a moment, his frown morphing into a sickly sneer. "And after that interestin' conversation with the shrimp, I think I've got a present to leave of my own."

...


Cana

...

"Where'd you say they were?!"

"Now, now, girlie, no need to get yourself all worked up—"

"Goddamn it, I said where?!"

"Ack! The park, the park downtown!"

"F**k!" I yelled, releasing the stranger's shirt collar and throwing him back. Everyone knew by now, of course. Except the fairies, who had just found out.

Damn it, I should have known that when Levy and the boys never came back last night, they had been attacked. It was the only explanation.

This was wrong, this was so very wrong.

Did I ever mention that I hate mornings?

South Magnolia Park. That was the only thing on my mind as I sprinted away and drove myself into the bustling streets. The words were screaming in my skull, that was all I could hear, think, believe.

Levy and the others were there. They had to be there, just had to be!

I kept running and nearly crashed into someone, a tall man in a hoodie and jeans. "Shit! Sorry," I said, and I was about to keep going when a wiry hand locked around my wrist.

"The hell? Get off!"

And then I saw the Phantom symbol on his sleeve.

"You're a fairy," he rasped, grinning monstrously. "Do tell the Sexta that the Quinto's out for kitty blood."

Before I could comment, he disappeared, leaving me staring at the spot where he had been.

Quinto. That had been in Grimmjow's note.

"Cana, the hell are you just standing around for?"

Lucy. Before I realized, she was dragging me away. I got over it as quickly as I could, pulling free of her and running ahead. Just like I thought—Blondie couldn't keep up. I sprinted through the city, through alleys and crowds, angry to the core as I reached the south of Magnolia Town.

And I saw them instantly when I entered the park. Team Shadow Gear, strung up on the giant magnolia that this city was named for.

They were in ruins, to put it mildly. All three of them had been bolted to the bark of the three about twenty feet up with metal cuffs that could only have been made by the man that had attacked the guild in the first place. Jet had a nasty cut on his forehead that was dripping blood down his face, and his long coat was ripped into pieces. Droy's hair was wildly disheveled and hanging limply in front of his inert face, the twin belts crossing his shirt ripped apart.

And Levy McGarden, the poor thing, was the worst of all. Her vest was ripped open to reveal her bra and part of her chest, and her pants only had one fully intact leg. The other was torn and hanging loosely in shreds down to her ankles, which were bruised and scraped. One of her sandals was only on her foot due to the sheer willforce of god, hanging by a thread. Her hair was even more of a mess than usual without the ribbon properly holding it back.

Drawn sloppily on Levy's chest was the Phantom Lord symbol in jet-black ink.

This wasn't right. I had to get them down, they didn't deserve this!

"Kono yaro!" I screamed, reaching into my purse for my cards to get them down. But before I could throw even a single one, Macao and Wakaba were on me, ripping my bag away from me and each of them grabbing an arm to hold me back. I saw stars as the duo wrestled me away from the tree.

"Calm down, Cana!" Macao yelled as he ripped the cards from my fingers, although he sounded just as furious as I was. "Master will be here soon, we don't wanna hurt them when we get them down. He'll tell us what to do."

A sob escaped me as I fell to my knees, the two of them kneeling with me. "Levy and the boys didn't do anything. What did we do to deserve this?"

Macao released me, and Wakaba followed suit. "We didn't do jack. Those phantoms are gonna pay, I swear—"

The sound of tiny footsteps silenced us all.

Erza immediately knew who it was. "Master," she called, her voice shaking when she spoke.

The master was livid and very very sober, I could see it in his eyes. His hand around his staff was having trouble keeping from splintering the wood. In a shaking yet deliberate tone, he said, "That's it. I've had enough. I can take our guild hall being reduced to rubble, but this..."

He shook his head. "First Grimmjow. Then Levy, Jet and Droy. Well, no more! I will not allow my children to suffer without taking REVENGE!"

The staff splintered between his fingers and disintegrated into nothingness.

"At this point," he seethed, "we have no choice but to go to war!"

There. Phantom Lord would pay.

Erza couldn't control herself at that point—with an anguished scream, she turned on the Magnolia onlookers, sword raised. "What business do any of you have here?! Just to gossip and stare? And here I thought that Magnolia was better than that! Why did nobody try to get them down? GET OUT!"

The rest of the cityfolk wasted no time in clearing out, especially not when Erza requipped into an armor set a little more daunting than a blouse and skirt. Normally, Erza was the one holding back. To see her acting so, well, emotional was shocking.

One by one, the fairies started to move again, some of them to head back home and some of them to help get the trio down. I watched as Natsu and Lucy and the others freed Levy, then Jet and Droy. All three were unconscious and barely showing any signs of life, but I knew they were alive. They had to be!

I broke away from Macao and snatched my purse back, burying my face in my hands. "Hey, Cana, come back!"

This wasn't helping at all. I needed company. I searched for a certain face in the remaining crowd and found him a few seconds. He was all better, with just a couple of bandages across his bruises and a small bandaid on his forehead.

Well, better wipe the tears off my face. Didn't need a comment on that.

"Grimmjow," I called, and I walked over to him, but I stopped within arms reach when I noticed.

He was shaking. Grimmjow was trembling with pure, unadulterated rage...and it almost looked to me like he was a little scared.

Why? What was he staring at with such fury, such anger? Had it been Shadow Gear?

No. He didn't see the trio, he could care less. His gaze was vacant and blank, frozen. The person before me probably cared about this the least out of all the fairies. From what I had seen, he liked Levy at least a little, and nobody looks at someone hurt the way he was staring into space. It was something else.

"What the hell's gotten into you?" I whispered hoarsely, grabbing onto his sleeve in hopes of jostling him out of his stupor. But it didn't work.

"That's f**king it," he stammered, under his breath and yet just loud enough for me to assume I was supposed to hear it.

All of a sudden, he doubled over as if having a heart attack, and my reflexes kicked in and I grabbed him before he fell to the ground. And we were so eerily close in that moment, I could hear his heart beating against my hand in doubletime.

For an instant, I didn't want to move away from him. I wanted it to be yesterday again, where we had been so close and so at ease together. I wanted to feel that safe and content again.

But finally I moved.

After a few moments, Grimmjow stood again, staring back at tree like he had never stopped. His hand rested on the hilt of his weapon tensely, as if he could take it out any second.

"The Eight," he miraculously managed to choke out. Two blue eyes snapped away from the tree to stare at me, and I saw something in them halfway between terror and resignation. "The charm that Szayel made. It's for the Five. The old Eight was promoted to Five the same time I was assigned to Six."

Then he turned back to the magnolia.

Do tell the Sexta that the Quinto's out for kitty blood.

Quinto was fifth, wasn't it?

My gaze followed his up the tree, past where Shadow Gear had been, past everything, and when I saw what he was looking at his words in the note to me suddenly made sense.

If you see the Quinto or even the Cuatro, know that your Fairytailverse has gone to hell.

He's five, I'm six.

And my eyes rested on the enormous black five carved into the tree with five messy words written below.

Come and get me, Sexta.

...


That makes at least seven times, from what I saw. Have I missed any? Again, I apologize for over-building-up. But yeah, since it's the first Espada "baddie" in the story, gotta make it big!

Next chapter! Grimmjow's coping mechanism doesn't work when true war has begun. On that note, get ready for a brawl! Out by Sunday, I swear on the Zombified Arrancars! *freakout* It's a thing. Lookit up.