Homeward Hours

By CrimsonStarbird

Chapter Fifteen – Succession

Another week went by before Zeref deigned to talk to anyone.

In fact, as Lucy trekked through the forest carrying that week's default groceries in her arms, she found herself hoping that he'd once again refuse to acknowledge her. She'd made an effort to reach out to him with empathy and understanding during their time of upheaval, and he'd pushed her away. Now, she and the guild were trying so hard to adjust to life without Master Makarov, and it was draining enough as it was. She wasn't sure she could spare him the patience his troublesome moods required.

Unfortunately for her, he was sat outside his house, in the summer sunshine she had only just managed to forgive. He watched in silence as she unloaded tins onto the picnic bench and pushed them one by one through the barrier, careful not to let a millimetre of her skin cross over while his mood was still a mystery.

Without preamble, he commented, "I take it, from the fact that the Fairy Sphere is still intact, that your guild has not yet torn itself apart without Makarov."

"No," Lucy confirmed, cautious, guarded. The calmer he was, the more she could sense something wild behind it. Not even the barrier could make her feel entirely safe. "We're doing alright."

"Still," Zeref continued, as though she hadn't spoken. "There's always the chance that you might fail to nominate an adequate successor, and the Magic Council could force you to disband."

"We've got thirty days. And if they haven't agreed our nomination by then, we'll just ask the Council for an extension. They know what we're going through. They're not monsters."

"Could have fooled me," came the cool response. Lucy glanced up sharply, but he ignored that, too. "So? Who's it going to be?"

"We don't know yet," she admitted. "It's difficult. Usually the outgoing Master nominates his successor."

"And Makarov didn't? It took him long enough to die."

Lucy sighed. "It's complicated."

"How complicated can it possibly be?"

She rested her palms on the safe – the uncharred – side of the picnic bench and re-directed the conversation. "Well, who do you think it should be?"

"For the next Master? Natsu."

"What, really? I mean, he has grown up a lot this past year, but I'm not sure he's ready for that kind of responsibility…"

"Oh, I know. The guild would last less than a week with him in charge, and then I'd be free."

"Very funny, Zeref," Lucy sighed. "Seriously, though, you've spent a lot of time with Makarov – not to mention all the obsessive research you did in preparation for attacking us. You must have some idea of who would be best placed to take over from him."

"Why? I couldn't care less what happens to your guild. Unless it's tragic, in which case I need to know in advance so that I can stick my popcorn in the microwave."

Before she had got to know him, she'd have bought it, but she had the strangest feeling that he was deflecting. "I don't believe for a second that you don't have an opinion on this."

"It's your problem, not mine."

"Zeref-"

"It's all the same to me, isn't it?" he overrode her. "Laxus, Erza, Mira, Macao; what difference does it make who takes over? The best I can hope for is that whoever you pick screws up so badly that the spirit of the guild crumbles and its Great Fairy Magic loses the power to hold me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got the demise of the rest of your members to plot."

The slamming of his front door marked her dismissal.

Lucy's gaze dropped to the weekly food supplies she had brought him, unrequested, unthanked, and felt another sigh escape her.

He wasn't ready to be friendly again, then.

Nor did it seem he had acknowledged her just to have someone to lash out at, for compared to how he had been acting recently, that exchange had been almost civil.

No, she thought he cared very much about who the next Master of Fairy Tail was going to be, and she had a feeling that it was going to tip an already complicated situation over the edge of impossibility.

"You're genuinely considering telling him, aren't you?"

Natsu's uncharacteristically sharp words snapped through the haze of Lucy's thoughts. Without context, she didn't know what he was talking about – but there was only topic capable of making Natsu's fiery passion that cold. She scrambled automatically for a denial: "No, of course not, I-"

"Luce." He sat opposite her. It was the middle of the guildhall, but everyone knew it was their space; with Erza and Wendy on a mission, and Gray and Juvia on a date, there was even less chance of anyone bothering them here than at Lucy's flat, where her friends still popped up at inappropriate times despite the fact that she was now in a committed relationship.

As serious as she had ever heard from him before, Natsu continued, "We talked about this."

"I know," she groaned softly.

"Then why do you sound so unsure?"

"Because…"

Natsu could be merciless, sometimes. When it came to his estranged brother, that silence, that judgemental glare, was as dangerous as his Fire Dragon's Iron Fist.

"Because it was good for him, Natsu. Assisting the Master with the administrative side of the guild was really helping him. It gave him focus, it gave him a purpose – believe me, it was making such a difference to his mental state."

Natsu gave a snort that only a fire dragon could have made sound so derisive. "How many times has he expressed a desire to massacre the whole guild in the last two weeks?"

"We've all been struggling recently, Natsu," she chided him. "Try, just for a moment, to see things from his point of view. The Master reached out to Zeref, even though he had more reason than most to hate him. He was able to connect with him in a way I've never been able to do, by acknowledging his abilities as a leader as well as a mage; by discussing genuine problems with him and listening to his advice. For months, the Master has been getting Zeref to help with the boring administration and the good governance of the guild he literally tried to destroy – that's how much he was getting through to him! They respected each other. Zeref is only human, Natsu, as much as you like to think otherwise. That acknowledgement, that purpose, that ability to do something useful and be thanked for it – it matters, Natsu."

"So?" he growled.

"Well, look at our candidates to succeed Master Makarov. Laxus is the most likely to get the job, and he actively blames Zeref for the Master's death."

"So he should!" Natsu exclaimed. "If not for him, Gramps wouldn't have had to overuse Fairy Law, and he'd still be-"

His words cut off with a choke.

Even for the mighty Dragon Slayer, it was still too soon.

Lucy's hand found his, a moment of shared empathy too deep for any brief disagreement to shatter.

Taking a deep breath, she continued, "I'm not saying Laxus's feelings aren't justified, only that there's no way he'll be able to work with Zeref the way Master Makarov did. Erza would be a great Master, but she's also far too proud – and too righteous, and far too sincere in her responsibilities – to want to rely on a former enemy. Nor does she have the right temperament to deal with him when he's in a mischievous mood. Mira, being the reason why what little paperwork the guild submitted got done at all, is good at the safest things for him to help with. She has no need to delegate anything to him. And as for Macao… Zeref would make mincemeat out of him. And Macao knows that. He wouldn't go anywhere Elfame Court. So from Zeref's point of view, the next Master is a choice between one who hates him, one who is too proud for him, one who has no need of him, and one who avoids him. When Master Makarov passed away, Zeref didn't just lose a friend – he lost the very thing that has been keeping him sane."

Natsu gave the table an alarming scowl.

"Zeref knows that; it's why he's acting erratically. And the Master knew it, too. That's why- well, you know."

"It's ridiculous," Natsu told her flatly. "We have no obligation to do anything except keep him imprisoned. We don't have to entertain him, we don't have to pander to him, and we certainly don't have to take his mental state into consideration when choosing a Guild Master!"

Her shoulders slumped. She couldn't, in all honesty, refute that. "I know. I do, Natsu. Otherwise, I'd have acted on it already, rather than keeping what the Master said between the two of us. It's just… I know that this is going to bring all the bridges we've been building with Zeref crashing down around us, and I still can't see a solution. I hate it."

There was a pause. It wasn't nerve-wracking, like silences so often were with Zeref. Even when they argued, there was a warmth to Natsu that never fully went away. His hand was still in hers. He had promised he would be there for her – and with him, that didn't mean pretending to agree. It meant not letting their disagreements get the better of them.

"You care so much, Luce," he murmured. "You try so hard to keep everyone happy."

She gave a weak smile. "You can see why I'm worried, though, can't you?"

"No."

"Natsu-"

"No," he continued firmly, his eyes the blaze that no storm could extinguish, the beacon guiding lost ships to shore. "Because there's a very easy solution, so there's nothing to worry about at all."

"…Really?"

"Uh-huh. So why don't you stop worrying about all that for a bit, and go do a job?"

Lucy blinked, wondering if she'd tripped over the non sequitur and fallen into an entirely different conversation. "With you?"

"Nah, go with Cana or someone. I've got stuff to do here."

"Okay…?"

"It's all good, Luce. Go earn some rent money."

Well, Lucy would be lying if she said this didn't concern her – because when did Natsu scheme? – but it was actually quite refreshing to have something so mundane to worry about, so she went to find Cana with something of a spring in her step.

"So," Lucy ventured bravely. "We have a new Guild Master."

She'd known this news would get Zeref out of his house, though now, as she stood there, palms sweatier and mouth drier than they'd ever been in a life-or-death battle, she found herself wishing it hadn't.

A very easy solution, Natsu had said.

Sometimes she wanted to strangle him.

"Oh?" Zeref feigned boredom, but badly. "Who is it?"

"Me," she said.

"I'm not in the mood for games, Lucy. Give me the name and be done with it."

"It's really me, Zeref."

He stared.

For a moment, even he forgot to be moody.

"How on earth did that happen?" he demanded.

"We decided to have a vote," she explained. "And I was all ready to cast my vote for Erza, but it turned out Natsu had put my name forward without telling me, and then made it clear to everyone that he was backing me. He reminded everyone of how I had brought the guild together after the war and threatened the Magic Council into backing down… and then everyone collectively lost their minds."

Zeref raised a very vocal eyebrow.

"Well, how else can you explain me winning a majority vote?" she argued. "Me! I'm not even S-Class, let alone able to keep troublemakers like Natsu and Gajeel in line! I've only been in the guild a few years, compared to the decades of experience some people have! The Magic Council don't trust me, thanks to the whole breaking-you-out-of-jail thing, and the only time I've ever successfully dealt with them has been with your help! I don't have the faintest idea how to run a guild!"

"Mm, well, you probably wouldn't have been my first choice," Zeref said diplomatically.

"Erza was my first choice," Lucy agreed wholeheartedly.

"Are you going to decline, then?"

"…What?"

"The position of Guild Master," he elaborated. She wasn't imagining it – that dangerous edge was back in his voice, that unpredictability hiding behind a mature façade. "You were put forward for it without your knowledge or consent; the result of the vote is hardly legally binding. You do not believe you are capable of it, so I assume you are going to decline the position. Are you?"

"…No," she said. "I'm going to do it."

"Oh?"

"The guild has put its faith in me," she asserted, stronger this time. "I don't know why, but it has. I'm not going to let my friends down."

"Alright, then."

With every passing second, the silence seemed to tighten, the dark shapes within his eyes becoming a little less clear. He was daring her, she thought, the way he did Makarov, but while the old Master had taken it in his stride, she didn't know how to react. Take the challenge; stand up for herself proudly? Back off and give him space to process what she'd told him? Pretend she hadn't noticed, go home, and try again when the roulette-wheel of his moods had given her something a little easier to work with?

She was still undecided when he said, "Well, good luck," and headed back towards his house.

She blurted out: "I need your help."

He stopped.

The wind was the only thing that could pass freely through that unbreakable golden wall, and it rustled the archaic robes he wore, disturbed his already-messy hair even further.

"I don't know how to do this," she admitted. Was it the right thing to do? She didn't know. She could only do what she always did: act as her heart dictated, with all the sincerity and integrity she possessed. "But you do. Please. I need your help."

"Oh," said he.

Softly.

Too softly.

The words drifted on the breeze that travelled from her world to his, never realizing the monumental shift in pressure, in paradigm, in worldview as it passed through the barrier: "That's what this is."

"Zeref…?"

"That's why it's you." He spun round to look at her – no, to accuse her; those jet-black eyes pierced the Fairy Sphere and stabbed straight through her heart. "You think I'll help you. If it's anyone else, your guild will have to sort itself out again – but you think that if it's for you, I'll keep doing it."

Alarm rose in her voice. "Zeref, that's not what this is about-"

"Of course you can't be Master!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "Everyone knows you don't have the wisdom, the capability, or the respect of the guild!"

She'd known it all along – she'd said it herself – but hearing it laid out by someone she had come to like and respect cut through her in a way she wasn't expecting.

Nor was he done. "I bet Erza's the real Master, isn't she? You'll just pretend to be in front of me, because that's how you think you can get me to keep doing all the guild's work for you now that Makarov is gone! Well, guess what? I will never help you! I despise your whole guild, but no one more than you, for believing you had the skill or the right to trick me into helping you!"

"You couldn't be more wrong, Zeref." Tears prickled in the corner of her eyes, reflecting the savagery in his. "But you won't listen, will you? You'll believe what you want to believe. That's what grief does."

"You're the one who's wrong, as always," he snapped back. "Do you honestly think I can't see what you're trying to do?"

Sadly, she murmured, "I honestly don't think you can, no. I'm not trying to hurt you, or use you. I'm asking you for help, as your friend, with something I cannot do alone."

"I am not your friend. I am your prisoner, and I won't do a thing to help you. Get out of here, and go back to ruining your guild's future with your foolhardy ideas. After all, the faster you lose control of your guild, the faster I'll get out of here."

"Yeah," Lucy whispered. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Because he was right, at least about one thing.

Master Makarov wouldn't have screwed up like this.

If tripping and stumbling at a hurdle she'd faced so many times before was any indication, she couldn't do this at all.

This was the wrong side of the desk.

The Master's side.

Her father's side.

Not once, as Lucy had tiptoed through Jude Heartfilia's study with that great mahogany desk looming up in front of her, had she envisioned herself sat behind it.

Not once, as she'd celebrated yet another birthday with none but the servants and her Celestial Spirits for company, had she imagined she would one day forsake three consecutive guild parties for it, trying not to listen to the sounds of revelry from beyond the office door, wondering at how easily longing could become envy could become hate.

She'd always seen her father choosing his work over his own daughter as a sign of weakness – and she always would. But from this side of the desk, she could also see how easy it was to justify it. The bank had to get its monthly management accounts tomorrow, or the guild wouldn't get its overdraft renewed and then there would be no guild.

It was just a one-off situation, she told herself.

A far cry from seven years of fatherly neglect.

Three one-off situations in one week, though, and she was unwillingly beginning to understand how even the best of intentions could get caught up in the spiral: the future of the guild, those who relied on it for a living, the citizens of Magnolia who depended on the service they provided – they were all more important than one party, right? If she didn't look after them, who would?

She didn't like the view from this side of the desk.

It tasted of a bitter understanding no longer quite so out of reach.

But oh, did she wish now that she'd paid more attention to her father's work. How naïve had she been to think that a guild mage had no need for financial management skills or business acumen? So determined had she been to break free of the cage he'd built for her that she'd gone out of her way to discard all remnants of that life – gleefully letting the knowledge her economics tutors had drilled into her crumble away, never realising she might one day need it to preserve the very embodiment of her rebellion.

Lucy was beginning to suspect that the guide to assembling guild accounts that the Magic Council provided was in fact as deliberately obtuse as possible, precisely to dissuade free spirits like Master Makarov from holding a position of authority. But while the canny old man had been more than a match for them, she was not. That was becoming clear with every page she turned.

And yet she kept turning them: one more page for every drink poured in the guildhall beyond her office door, one more column filled in for every person who tried to convince her that a night of fun and games was worth more than the literal future of the guild, one more deep breath every time the door opened, pushing her closer and closer to that state from which a father could scream at his own lonely daughter-

She recognized Natsu in the nick of time, and fought her reaction down. She wasn't pleased to see him though, especially once he opened his mouth and asked: "When're you joining us, Luce?"

"Uh, half an hour."

"Heard that before," he grunted, eyeing her in a way that suggested he wasn't going to drop it as easily as he had an hour ago, let alone two hours ago.

"I've got to get this done tonight, Natsu. But when it's done, it's done. I'll be free all day tomorrow – I've even agreed with Mira that she can hold the fort while I go on a job with you and the team." It was true, even though an agreement hadn't exactly been needed, per se. The guild had been looking after itself ever since Master Makarov passed away. No one trusted her to do it for them, and rightly so.

Unfortunately, it seemed Natsu was only perceptive when she wanted him not to be. Ignoring her offer of a compromise, he leaned over her shoulder and scrutinized the page full of numbers. "What're you doing?"

"Paperwork," she evaded.

He didn't buy it. "Management accounts, huh?"

She shifted uncomfortably. She'd have put money on him not knowing what management accounts were, and she was fairly sure that, twelve hours ago, she'd have won back her money and then some.

"See, I was talking to Mira," he continued, "and she happened to mention that the bank always wants them seven days after the month end, which just happens to be today, right?"

"I guess so."

"She also said that she used to do them for the Master, but she stopped a few months back. Apparently, he'd told her that he wanted to do them himself from now on, but we both know who was really doing them."

She gave a nervous laugh. He'd always been intense, her Natsu, but she'd never realized before just how like his older brother he could be. Bravely, she raised a shield: "I think it's more that Zeref just wanted to check our profitability to determine how much rent to charge us for the guildhall each month…"

His cold words smashed her distraction aside like they would a dragon's scales. "He's not helping, is he?"

"Natsu-"

"You told me he said he'd help!"

Of course she had. The alternative was unmitigated disaster – the disaster now looming before her, in the form of an unpredictable Black Mage and a Dragon Slayer who was far too predictable. "Well- I mean- I need to work some of it out for myself, or I'll never learn-"

"I'm gonna kill him."

"Natsu! Please. Just leave it."

"How can I?" he cried. "This is my fault, isn't it? It was my idea! I talked you into this, and now you're stuck in here when you're supposed to be with us! Luce, you should be enjoying crazy guild life with us, not sacrificing your happiness for our sakes! That's not what any of us want!"

"I know, Natsu."

Knew that she'd never fall like her father did while she had him.

"Will you stay with me?" she murmured.

"Yeah."

In the end, he sat on the floor, leaning up against the leg of Makarov's ridiculously extravagant chair with his head resting on the cushion. It wasn't her side of the desk, but maybe it could be theirs, just for tonight.

She wrote with one hand, letting the other rest in his, drawing the same strength from his warmth as he did from her light when she fought by his side in battle. And when she had finally managed to pull together something that looked reasonable, long after the rest of the guild had drunk their fill and gone to their beds – or made themselves new ones underneath tables – he carried her home and tucked her in.

Finally, it felt as though she was allowed to be exhausted, and she tumbled into slumber too quickly to notice whether he stayed or left that night.

Zeref hadn't bothered setting protective wards around his house in the middle of the forest.

What was the point? The Fairy Sphere kept out anyone who didn't have the guild mark, and those with the guild mark knew better than to come within spellcasting range of the man who had tried to destroy them all. Besides, while creating and maintaining the unrivalled magical defences around his palace in Vistarion had been a clear status symbol at the heart of an empire of magic, the woodland creatures with whom he shared this clearing were somewhat less impressed.

That was why the first Zeref knew of his visitor in the early hours of the morning was when a hand seized him from his bed and threw him head-first into the wall.

He didn't need to look to know who it was – and indeed, he didn't bother trying for several seconds, lying where he'd fallen and letting his immortal body heal itself. There was only one person who would do something so stupid, after all.

Clearly, this passive response was not what Natsu had been hoping for. He wasted no time in dragging Zeref upright and pinning him against the wall with far more force than necessary for an unresisting man. With the curtains drawn carefully enough to block out the glow of the Fairy Sphere, the only light came from the flames flickering at Natsu's hand – the hand that was wrapped around Zeref's neck. Framed by tongues of red and amber, the Dragon Slayer's canines seemed vicious in the shadows.

"You know, I was starting to think that maybe you being alive wasn't so bad, and I could just ignore you and get on with my life," Natsu snarled. "And then you go and do something like this."

Zeref stared. Twelve hours ago, not long after he'd spoken to Lucy, Zeref would probably have just struck down the Dragon Slayer and been done with it. But although his viewpoint hadn't changed since then, time had passed, and sleeping and waking had given him a free spin on the wheel of moods. All he wanted right now was to go back to sleep and forget about all of this. "I'm not in the mood for this, Natsu."

No such luck. "Tough," Natsu spat. "If Lucy doesn't get to sleep because of your actions, why should you?"

Oh. So that was what this was about. He wasn't sure why he was surprised – Natsu despised him too much to invest any real time and energy into hating him; he wouldn't give Zeref the satisfaction. Lucy, though… when it came to her, Natsu made going to such lengths look effortless.

Zeref might have been impressed, if he could have brought himself to care. "Leave me alone, Natsu. I won't warn you again."

Natsu ignored him. Maybe he was aware that it was an empty threat, for he was the one person Zeref would never harm. More likely, it was not in Natsu's nature to pay heed to threats, whether empty or otherwise. "After everything she's done for you, you think it's okay to abandon her like that?"

"I am under no obligation to do anything to help my captors," Zeref reminded him. "It was her decision to accept the nomination as Guild Master – and after I advised her against it, too. The consequences of that are hers to bear."

"She's only doing this for you!" Natsu howled. "Even though you're the person who deserves her kindness the least after how you've been treating her these past few weeks! Once again, she is going through hell for your sake!"

"What you mean is, she's going through hell in the vain hope that she can convince me to help the guild that has bound and humiliated me-"

"How can you claim to be so bloody smart when you can't even see what she's doing?" the Dragon Slayer spat back. "Helping Gramps with the guild was the only thing stopping you from going crazy in here! Lucy realized that none of the other candidates had any reason to keep involving you in guild affairs, so she took on that role herself, to keep that option open for you!"

Against Zeref's better judgement, he found himself considering the possibility; reframing the past few days from another perspective. Fire licked at his throat, and the burns healed over again. Neither of them seemed to notice.

"That's ridiculous," he concluded. "No one in the guild would accept her if they knew she was only doing it for me."

"Course they would. Lucy's brilliant and talented and empathetic and she's been so important in keeping this guild together. They can see that, even if you can't."

"Even so, it's nothing compared to how much they dislike me."

Night and hellfire twisted Natsu's indecision into something savage – something that, in all his research while plotting the guild's downfall, Zeref had never once known Natsu show to anyone other than him. No, that loathing was reserved solely for his unwanted brother.

Then the part of Natsu that wanted to do what was best for Lucy triumphed over the part that wanted to spite Zeref no matter what. He spoke like an ancient mill grinding out one final confession: "Gramps wanted you to be Master."

"…I beg your pardon?"

"Me and Lucy," Natsu elaborated, through gritted teeth, "we told the guild that he hadn't expressed a preference over who should succeed him. But we were both there when he said it. He wanted you to take over from him one day."

"…That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard," Zeref asserted, forgetting his bitterness in bewilderment. "I'm your enemy. I can count on one hand the number of people in your guild who don't despise me, let alone who would be willing to listen to me. The Magic Council would have a fit if they found out, and while I'd be the first to agree that that does sound like your guild's style, it's going to be a little tricky for me to attend meetings with them from inside my prison. I don't know what the official requirements are to register as a Guild Master, but I'd bet my ownership rights to the guildhall that not being legally deceased and not being a convicted dark mage are two fairly fundamental ones. And then there's the biggest issue of all: to be the Guild Master, I'd have to be given the guild mark. And if I have the guild mark, Fairy Sphere will lose the power to hold me."

"You think we don't know all that?" Natsu burst out. "Of course we know it's a dumb idea! No one in their right mind would actually expect us to go through with it, especially not Gramps!"

Zeref blinked at him. "Then why did he say it in the first place?"

"Because he had hope for your future," Natsu growled, like it was obvious. "He had this whole vision for the guild, you and us working together. He was asking me and Luce to find a way to make it possible. And that's exactly what she's done. Luce earned the position fair and square; she's the rightful Guild Master and she's going to be amazing at it, once she's got into the swing of things. But she only went for it in the first place because it was Gramps's dying request."

With his eyes narrowed to draconic slits, Natsu reiterated, "She and Gramps, they did it for you. You killed him and they still didn't hesitate to put the guild's future on the line for you, for the second time, and this is how you repay them?"

Zeref couldn't answer. The words wouldn't come. It wasn't Natsu's hand around his throat that was throttling them. So many thoughts, words, feelings tore through him, wedging his windpipe shut. He was grateful that he could not express a single one of them, because just one would have broken down the floodgates and released a whole lot more than mere words into the only space the Fairy Sphere wasn't protecting.

To what extent Natsu understood this, Zeref wasn't sure. There was nothing but distaste on the Dragon Slayer's face as he finally released his grip and stepped away. From his pocket, he retrieved an envelope bearing Zeref's name in the Guild Master's messy handwriting. "Here. Surely not even you can be so wilfully blind that you'd ignore the evidence right in front of you."

Zeref took it, turning it over in his hands. No effort had been made to disguise the fact that it had already been opened and read; he wasn't sure whether to decry this display of laziness or admire the audacity of it. "You opened it?"

"Lucy wanted to make a copy in case you set fire to it like you did the first one," Natsu answered, entirely unashamed. "You don't deserve her friendship."

Staring at the envelope, Zeref thought that Natsu was probably right.

"Don't you dare read it in front of me," Natsu snapped, before Zeref could open it. "Gramps may not have blamed you for his death, but I bloody well do, and so does the rest of the guild. If you're going to have the gall to mourn him, at least have the decency not to do it in front of us."

"…Yeah." The letter disappeared into a pocket. Zeref wanted to put it away and forget about it forever; he knew he'd get no sleep until he read it. "Why didn't you just tell me? You or Lucy?"

A harsh bark of laughter matched Natsu's wild eyes perfectly. "After how you've been acting since Gramps went back into hospital? It's not enough that you've been erratic and unreasonable and rude as hell to Lucy; you were expecting her to indulge your grief while refusing to acknowledge her own. I honestly don't know what she sees in you worth saving."

Nor did Zeref, in himself.

And maybe if it was just Lucy's opinion, he'd have said she was wrong and they were right.

But Makarov and Lucy were two very different people. What were the odds of them both being mistaken in the exact same way?

"Give the accounts she's been working on to me," he said quietly. "The ones that are due tomorrow. I know you brought them."

Begrudgingly, as if he would rather Zeref hadn't asked at all so he would have one more thing to hate him for, Natsu withdrew the pack of not-quite-complete financial information he'd taken from Lucy's house and handed it over.

"I'll check it through. Tell her to come by before she goes to the bank tomorrow morning. She's smart; she'll pick up how to do these in no time if I teach her. Now, get back out through the barrier and don't come into my house uninvited again."