TO MY READERS: Good morning (at least in my timezone) and hello again! I finally have the next chapter ready for you guys today and a whole new chapter waiting to be uploaded. My plan is to upload that chapter next week-not sure when-and do the same thing I did this time which is to have another whole chapter done so I can keep uploading every week. We'll have to see how long that lasts... Thank you again to everyone who stayed subscribed and those of you who just joined the party. It really means the world to me to know you guys are still interested in reading this story! So, without further delay, here is the ninth chapter of Mission Impossible. Enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY of the characters or places mentioned in this story. They all belong to the original creator, Hiro Mashima.
Nine
Natsu stumbled into the police department the next morning, struggling to carry the three heavy boxes filled with Makarov's old files. Some of the MPD employees sitting at their desks watched him with suspicion or curiosity while others simply kept to their work. Natsu was known throughout the MPD to be rather eccentric and intense, especially when it came to cases, so everyone was used to him acting strangely most of the time. For them, it was just another day in the office.
Barely managing to open the door of his office without dropping all the boxes, Natsu stomped towards his desk and plopped everything down on one of the armchairs. Wanting to wait for Gray to meet with him, Natsu went straight for his desk and opened the top drawer. The notepad he marked up with messy handwriting and scribbles of Makarov's riddle greeted him and he couldn't help but groan as he placed it on his desk.
The riddle had been haunting Natsu every day since Saturday and it was driving him crazy. Neither he nor Gray had any idea what Macbeth could've possibly meant when he recited it to Makarov. At that point, Natsu couldn't help but think Macbeth might've just been pulling Makarov's leg. It was looking to be nothing but a dead end…
Maybe Gray and I should just bring everything to the team now. Who cares if we went against Erza's orders? It's not like we don't every single day…
"Detective Dragneel?" Gray called nervously from behind Natsu's door.
"Come in," he answered, flipping his notepad over. Something's up. Gray opened the door slowly, his brows furrowed deeply and his eyes begging for forgiveness. When he widened the door, Natsu saw the reason for Gray's distress: Erza was waiting behind him to enter the office. And she did not look happy.
"Good morning, Detective Dragneel," she said with a heavy edge in her voice. She pushed past Gray and closed the door behind both of them. As soon as she turned around, her eyes fell on the boxes sitting on the armchair.
"Oh, uh…good morning Captain Scarlet," Natsu said, standing from his chair. "Those are just some of my things I've kept over the years…"
"Save it, Natsu," she said, closing the distance between them with a few long strides. "I know you and Gray visited Makarov this past weekend." Though she was a couple of inches shorter than Natsu, Erza managed to loom over him as she stared him down. Natsu immediately tilted his head towards Gray.
"Don't look at him!" Erza shouted. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, Natsu."
"H-how did you find out?" he asked.
"His grandson called. Makarov kept asking him to check and see if we'd made any headway on the case from his files. Imagine my surprise when he told me two of the detectives on the case paid his grandfather a visit," she said.
"Oh…"
"You went behind my back. Both of you," Erza continued, turning to Gray who was looking down at the floor.
"I'm sorry, Captain Scarlet. We're both sorry. But we actually have made some real headway on the case. In fact, I wanted to bring all of this information to you today," Natsu explained. "Originally, we wanted more information but Gray and I have both been stumped by this riddle Makarov gave us before we left."
"A riddle?" Erza asked in disbelief.
"Yeah," Natsu said, snatching his notepad and handing it gingerly to the Captain. She snatched it from him and tried to read what she could make out.
"I can barely read any of this, Detective," she said, exasperated. Natsu tisked as he snatched the notepad back. He flipped to a new page—though ink had still bled onto it—and quickly rewrote the riddle, mouthing it to himself.
"Here," he said. Erza grabbed the notepad again and Natsu watched her as she read it. Her brows furrowed deeply and he noticed her eyes scanning the page a second, third, and fourth time.
"What the hell is this, Natsu?" she asked at last, looking back to the first page.
"It's the riddle Makarov gave us before the drugs kicked in," Gray piped up from the back of the room.
"A riddle?"
"During his and Porlysica's investigation, they ended up capturing this guy named Macbeth," Natsu explained. "He gave them that riddle which is supposed to be a hint for Zeref's lair location. Gray and I have been trying to figure it out for three days now and we've come up with nothing. I wanted to bring all this information to the team today, if you'd let me, Captain."
Erza continued to stare at the poem, shaking her head.
"If anyone would be able to figure this thing out, it would be Levy. So I suggest you set up a meeting with your team soon, Dragneel," she said, handing back the notepad.
"So…you're not mad anymore?" Natsu asked, surprised.
"I'm just nervous about what this investigation is going to do to your head," she sighed. "But considering Gray couldn't even take the weekend off either, I suppose you're not the only one losing sleep over it." Natsu watched Erza as she continued to scan over the riddle, her face deep with worry. He even noticed their invincible Captain of the MPD had dark circles forming under her eyes.
"Erza," Natsu began, walking around his desk to come in front of her. "Something tells me you're doing a lot more worrying for everyone else instead of yourself." Erza lifted her head to him and smiled wearily.
"Forgive me, Natsu," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes I forget how you've grown. You're not the same thick-headed rookie who was too gung-ho for missions to think before using his fists. But I chose you to be the head of this team for a reason. It wasn't because of your history with Zeref, no. It was because you might be the only fucking person on this entire continent with the passion to get it done."
Natsu grinned.
"And I can promise you won't be disappointed with your choice," he said. Erza chuckled and let her hand fall.
"There is one more thing we have to discuss, Captain," Gray piped up from the back of the office. Natsu and Erza turned to him as he walked up to them and handed Erza the thin file on Lucy Heartfilia.
"Juvia worked overtime this weekend as well and got some information on a girl. Her name's Lucy Heartfilia and she's been seen with a lot of Zeref's cronies over the past couple of years. I want to know why she's working for Fiore's number one crime lord instead of on their estate throwing fancy parties and weeding out the candidates for her future husband," he said.
Erza took the file and flipped through the two pages. She nodded her head and handed it back to Gray.
"Alright. "I'll talk to my higher-ups about it and we'll see if they let this circus reopen. For now, Natsu," she said, glancing back to him, "you best gather your team and update them. I'm sure persuading my bosses won't be too difficult a task so everyone should be on the same page with this Heartfilia girl and that godforsaken riddle. Get back to work!"
"Yes, ma'am!" Natsu and Gray replied. Erza smirked at them as she turned and walked back out of the office.
"Well, Hot Head, it looks like we're back in business," Gray laughed, slapping Natsu hard on the back.
"Ow! Watch it, Popsicle!" he yelled, punching Gray on the arm.
"I was being friendly, Flame Brain!"
Lucy stood in front of the full-length mirror of her and Zeref's bedroom. A seamstress shuffled around her, pinning some fabric here, and making small cuts there. The dress Lucy would wear for Balsamico's daughter's engagement party was to be the finest dress she'd ever don. The fabric the seamstress was using had been shipped from Balsam Village—better known as Spa Town Hosenka—and it had to be the most beautiful cloth Lucy had ever laid eyes on. It felt like pure silk on her skin and, when hit with light, each section glowed different colors from the small diamond embellishments.
While the seamstress worked her magic to make it comfortable to dance and fight in, Lucy couldn't help but run her hands along the dress. She could barely even feel the diamonds and it felt light as air. Balsam Village had to be considered Fiore's capital for finery, but it no doubt came at a high price.
Nothing I'm sure our esteemed Crime Lord couldn't afford. Lucy's small smile faded into a line as she dropped her hands back to her sides.
"Alright, Your Majesty," the seamstress said breathlessly. She stood up from the floor and wiped her brow, placing her hands on her waist.
"Please, just call me Lucy," Lucy insisted.
"Alright, Lucy," the seamstress repeated, "let's put the sheaths back on and try this again." Lucy gracefully stepped down from the small podium, lifting her skirts, and grabbed the large sheaths for her daggers.
When going out on missions, Lucy always preferred using her guns. However, given the precarious nature of the Balsamico situation, Zeref had specifically instructed her not to use any firearms. "The feel of serrated steel against his neck should get the message across nicely," he'd said. Lucy felt a chill run up her spine at her memory of that night. Killing with a gun was quick and painless—at least for the person operating the weapon. It didn't require the killer to be extremely close to the victim. But killing with a knife left much more of a mess. Killing with a knife was far more intimate than Lucy wanted.
She shook her head as she walked back up on the podium and buckled the sheaths around her upper thighs. The seamstress was to fabricate the dress loosely enough around Lucy's legs so no one would be able to see the sheaths. They were quite thin and the end of the blades curved more towards Lucy's buttocks when strapped on, but if the dress was too tight, the well-trained eyes of Balsamico's guards would definitely be able to detect them.
"Just remember to try and stand still Lucy," the seamstress reminded her, dodging around Lucy again with her pins.
"Yes, ma'am," she replied.
The seamstress worked quickly and diligently. Before Lucy knew it, the woman had packed all her supplies away and was standing beside her specimen to admire her.
"Perfect," she smiled.
And perfect it was indeed. The seamstress had done an incredibly meticulous job of making the dress ideal for Lucy's job. The hem only came down to roughly right above her ankles but with the proper shoes, it would shorter and better to work with. She had also cut the sides of the dress up to mid-thigh and had been careful to make the upper half loose enough to conceal the sheaths. As for the sleeves, Lucy always requested dressed that could simply be tied around the neck. Anything without or skin-tight sleeves was the best route for her in terms of range of motion and comfort.
"It's amazing," Lucy agreed.
"Well, go ahead and give it a quick test-run before I leave," the seamstress instructed, gesturing for Lucy to get off the podium again.
A few pieces of furniture had already been moved when the seamstress had first arrived and that space provided Lucy enough room to practice some of her moves. She decided to start off with a high roundhouse kick to see if the dress was indeed loose enough to allow for the jumping and swinging motion of her legs. Enjoying the flowy feeling of the fabric moving around her legs and body, Lucy launched herself in the air and threw out a scissor kick. Next, she tried the calf and low spinning kick Elfman had made her practice the past few times she met with him.
"Good to see you can move fairly easily," the seamstress said. "Now try for the daggers."
Lucy made a swift movement in reaching under where the slit ended up her leg and effortlessly seized the dagger on her left side. Bringing the blade to rest its dull side against her forearm, she made some swift punches and kicks before throwing the dagger to her right hand to slice the steel through the air. The metal sang eerily as Lucy continued to throw it back and forth between her left and right hands in her imaginary fight. She didn't stop until a good sheen of sweat had gathered along her forehead.
"Well, it appears my work here is done then," the seamstress said with a heavy sigh. "Think you're ready for the party?" Lucy looked down at her right hand that still held the dagger. She flipped it and watched as she attentively guided the weapon through her fingers only to grip it back against her forearm.
"Ready as I'll ever be, I suppose," she replied.
A/N: Don't forget to leave me a review! I love hearing from you all!