Laxus can feel it, often, the way the dragon inside him churns at the thought of Natsu. It is a chronic ache he's gotten used to, but when Natsu departs and he's consumed by the anxiety of not knowing where he's gone— it gets worse.

Natsu has always smelled dangerous.

Not in a bad way, but not in a good one, either.

It is the same smell that wafts from Jose. It is the evil lingering on some books in the guild archive, that Makarov always peruses fondly in memory of Master Precht. It was the smell that dusted Gray's hands after they came back from the Eisenwald debacle and later Galuna. It is the smell from Loke that grew stronger day by day until he was finally healed.

It is Mira's smell, when she lets loose the Satan Soul inside of her.

It is the smell of darkness.

Not evil. Darkness, in its malleable, yet haunting and stigmatic form.

He does not understand why this smell comes so strongly from Natsu. Initially he suspected it was the odour of dragons, but Team Shadow Gear did not reek of their perpetrator after they were crucified upon the Town Square.

The scent was malicious, of course, but Gajeel did not smell dark . Neither does Ryos, and that little shadow left his scent everywhere under everyone's feet before disappearing.

Dragons do not smell like darkness . It's just Natsu. It doesn't make sense.

(It doesn't matter.)

The lacrima pulses in him, like a second heart, and Laxus knows Natsu is nearby. He's nearby– not even out of Magnolia, and yet, Laxus can't quite pin him down. He's hiding, so little yet so well, that it frustrates him.

The dragon inside Laxus craves for Natsu.

Laxus swears, if they find that little brat again, he will be stuffed into the hoard, mingled into the treasure den, and never allowed to leave again.

"BOYS! Why are you hungover!"

"WE'RE SORRY! Sorry! Oh— it's just you Mickey."

Jet and Droy shriek and sputter and wave their hands around in abruptly-awoken alarm. Only to slump in disappointment when they realize it's Mickey Chickentiger in a frilly purple cat-print apron and a scowl that doesn't match the vibe of this lovely cafe.

A knife-embedded glove, and the hand that comes with it, slams a kettle of tea before them. The other, less knife-decorated hand, lays down a tray of stacked teacups.

"Seriously, how many times do we have to tell you to take those murder weapons off before you go anywhere near the service industry?" Droy stares at them, pointedly scooting a little further from her in his chair.

"Shut up, I refuse!"

Mickey Chickentiger is working in a cafe today. Specifically Fairy Sweetsville, the store owned by Chico's mother.

And who does she see? Jet and Droy, so riddled by hell-wrought alcohol afterglow that they must have stumbled here from the boy's dorm for some sort of reprieve that doesn't smell like men's cologne.

Their wounds have long healed, but Mickey can't help but glance toward their arms, the way they now instinctively tuck them crossed into themselves so people wouldn't stare at the scars.

"You're drinking a lot more often nowadays," Mickey frowns.

"We live in a bar, Mickey, isn't that okay?" Droy sighs.

They can't drink in the bar today, since Mirajane chased everyone out for cleaning before the Harvest Festival. Jet and Droy, ordered a distance from dust and infection risks, are exiled to house arrest. So to Sweetsville they've come.

"Yeah, we boys need our big boy juice, okay?" Jet whines, still horribly plagued with a migraine, pouring some tea for himself.

"Yeah, but you two only ever drink when there's a party. You hate the taste of alcohol otherwise," Mickey says. "Really. Are you two okay?"

Droy falls silent.

He chugs on his tea, to avoid the question.

And Jet is left to bitterly spit out his retort, "and what about you? You used to fight everyone for jobs to avoid reparation efforts, and look at you , helping out at Sweetsville all without a single complaint. Don't pretend you're doing any better."

And Mickey's teeth grinds, her hand clenching around the tray.

"I'll leave you two alone," she snarls at them, the glare full of ire. Uncharacteristically she doesn't move this flash of anger toward a brawl—

—they all knew that no one was in the mood for that.

"You talk to her properly later," Droy murmurs.

Jet groans into his arms, "I know …"

Elfman is holed up in any kitchen that won't kick him out, cooking. Chico wanders around town, lost and melancholic, because the tension in the guild worsens when she remembers exactly who is missing. Mickey throws herself into trying to make up for her mistake, but no one even holds a grudge.

And here, Jet and Droy are drinking, their eyes sagged with the weight of nightmares.

No one is doing alright.

What a time for Fantasia to arrive.

Jet sets down the empty teacup with a longsuffering sigh. He wills his headache to quell, to no avail, and Droy simply pours himself a cup, too.

"Unbelievable," Jet mutters.

He's irritated. But his voice comes out as frustration toward himself.

"Her, and everyone, and Levy, too," Jet murmurs, and he really doesn't want to sound this angry. But the headache is really allowing him to let loose, and he just can't handle bottling all this up any longer. "How can they just— move on, like that?"

"Jet," Droy warns.

"But Droy, just think about it!" he snaps, but the words catch. His eyes are burning, tears trying to escape and he realizes how pathetic that is. "We both saw it."

They both saw it.

They both saw.

(Gray had escorted Juvia Lockser from the train station, like she was a guest. And led her, so welcomingly, through the streets of Magnolia and toward Fairy Hills.)

(As if she hadn't been part of who tried to tear the entire place down.)

(As if she weren't in cahoots with the guy that— that—)

His fingers clench tightly on his upper arms and he takes a shuddering breath. Droy refills his cup of tea, and still says nothing.

They both understand.

Drinking all night, trying to pretend it didn't happen, only made it worse. Reality stares back at them each morning, grimer than the day before it.

"And then, what?" Droy asks. "You saw. Levy welcomed Juvia pretty easily."

His tone is dry. So resigned. So empty. As if he's already given up on everything, and Jet understands, Droy isn't okay with this either.

It's always been like this with them. Jet is the one that blows up, loud and noisy and full of emotion, and Droy is the one that gets quieter, because his emotions go inward when he doesn't know how to handle them.

Droy blows on his tea. "Are we going to interfere with Levy's friendships?"

"Of course not!" Jet slams his hand on the table and his cup jumps out of place. He stabilizes it with both hands before it spills completely. It calms him down, just a little, but nothing's better. "Of course not. Levy's strong. Levy's her own person. She does what she wants, she can make her own friends even if… even if it's Juvia Lockser… but…"

(But aren't we her friends, too?)

Levy can handle herself.

Levy has her own friends in Fairy Hills. And she can make new ones.

Levy can think for herself. She knows, just as much as Jet and Droy, who Juvia is and what she's done to them. She's clearly very busy with whatever book project they have going on. She hasn't even told Jet and Droy anything yet, not that she owes them every detail of her life.

"I just," Jet hates himself for admitting this. "I just don't think I'll ever be able to trust that Phantom witch. Levy can accept her, I don't care if Master himself accepts her. But… but not me."

They were nailed upon a tree and hung overnight. Jet was in severe danger of never moving either of his arms again. Their nights are still sleepless.

Does that mean nothing to any of their guildmates up there in Fairy Hills? Did that mean nothing to Gray?

( Oh, Jet knows, he's going to hate himself so much for thinking this. Of course it doesn't mean nothing, of course they care . This is your exhaustion talking, it's not you.)

(But in this moment of anger he just wants his emotions to run its course and the thoughts rise and rise, and he doesn't want to dismiss them as a passing wave of personal angst. Let him have this. Let him have this frustration, this anger, let him curse them, or he'll never get over it.)

(Does he have to get over this? He was hung up on a tree and left for dead why does he have to forgive them—)

A seed drops into his teacup.

It distracts him, just a moment, and it blooms, into a small, but bright white flower, blooming elegantly like a floating ornament upon his tea. He looks up and sees Droy has done the same to his own cup.

Jet takes a breath.

Take in the soft, soothing fragrance of chamomile, and drinks his tea.

There's no point, is there? He can be as angry as he wants, but in the end, he's just one member of Fairy Tail. Just one of the two faces in the crowd, the boys that cling to a much more prominent Levy Mcgarden, because they can't make a name on their own.

What can they do? They're not strong enough for anything.

And what can they do, being so angry at Juvia? She's just a girl now, her magic restrained by shackles. She may have caused quite a bit of damage and kidnapped Lucy, but she wasn't the one that strung Jet and Droy up the tree. Their grudge isn't hers to bear, and even if it was, revenge fixed nothing but broken pride that was never all that valuable to begin with.

With Phantom, with Naked Mummy… they couldn't do a thing.

If Mirajane hadn't come in clutch, if Freed hadn't come home… in the end, Fairy Tail is nothing without the S-class prospectives. Once the main group leaves they're utterly defenseless. And the Dark Guilds around them, they all know this.

Jet isn't the only one crippled by this. Mickey is, too. Everyone— Macao, Wakaba, Krov, Nab, Vijeeter, everyone, who's making a fuss day in and out, now throwing themselves into preparations in dire hopes this Fantasia will be a great one— all of them, they feel the same way.

It haunts them all.

Jet chuckles to himself. "Sorry. I'm done now," he says. "Man, if I'm this mad with just Juvia showing up, I'll probably lose my shit if Gajeel ever shows his face."

Droy huffs. "Same."

The question is, which direction will they 'lose their shit' toward? Gajeel, who they know they can't win against, or their friends, that do not move for their sake? It's hard to say, and though Jet and Droy know either decision is wrong, their hearts can't comprehend a way toward 'forgiveness'.

At the very least, they don't have to truly face all that until Fantasia's over, right?

The Harvest Festival is done to give thanks to nature. This year again, Magnolia throws a huge one this month to express their gratitude over the tumultuous year.

It's day one and bouquets, hampers, and congrats-on-your-reopening housewarming gifts are being sent and lined up by the Fairy Tail guild hall, courtesy of most of the stores down the streets of Magnolia. Fairy Tail would be showing their appreciation similarly in the coming week, with its famous Fantasia parade.

Alzack and Bisca come home to… well, quite a sight.

The guild hall had been rebuilt, allowing for a huge courtyard dining area. The second floor's expanded with the Archive in the basement moved up. There's a much grander stage for performances now, and the bar's twice as big because Enno's now working full time on it alongside Mirajane. Elfman has also opened a milkshake corner.

Laki and Max scream at the sight of it. And then they scream some more.

"WE HAVE A MERCHANDISE STORE?!" Max shrieks, when he sees the ensemble of goods– mostly towels, coasters, plushies, portraits and an assortment of character-themed cupcakes for some reason, "but I just mentioned wanting to open one, like—!"

"The letter arrived a week ago."

"—a week ago!"

"Yeah," Gray says, coming out to greet them. "Master jumped on the idea. We had to set one up real quick. It was a lifesaver, honestly. Elfman wouldn't stop baking, and Juvia got so into crocheting dolls for us that Fairy Hills is constantly getting haunted by Chico's legend or Bickslow's babies. Now they haunt the store instead. So, when you take over the store, make sure you don't accidentally sell Pippi to a customer. It's happened three times so far."

"Oh wow. Sounds like you guys have had it tough," Laki says. "Uhm… do we have space for another full-sized totem pole, by any chance?"

Cana comes up and hears the tail end of that conversation.

She turns to Bisca and Alzack, who are very unsubtly hiding a very large and protruding wrapped sack behind them. What on earth kind of souvenir is that? They already have the oversized monster horn that Erza hunted back there.

"...And what was the thought process behind it?" Cana's brow raises.

Bisca sighs deeply, reaching into her bag and finding a card. "I… haven't read it yet."

Taking a breath, she braces herself—

And then she reads, theatrically.

"Ahem!" changing to a swooning fun-uncle tone: "Hey there Bisca! If you are seeing wanted posters of me around, I destroyed a museum by accident. Whoopsie! Anyways, this thing stayed intact so it's pretty cool! I think it has some ancient protection magic on it. Haha! Tell Master I've finally found something that none of us dumbasses can break! Regards, Gil—"

She interrupts herself, face pulling immediately flat and tone going back to normal.

"...Wait a second, did he steal this thing? He doesn't clarify. Why is he always making me his unwilling partner in crime?"

Bisca lifts her head to Cana, to see the utterly disgusted expression on her face.

Alzack had worn that exact same expression when they first found the thing, so, fair enough.

Ever since Bisca joined, she's been taking her summers out for a roadtrip around the continent. It was partially for her own wanderlust, but also because it was fascinating— each place she went, she found destruction or hearsay, all telling stories of Gildarts of the West stomping through their nation like a Godzilla on a warpath.

And Gildarts, tired of how badly he got scolded because she would always tattle on him, started leaving souvenirs around in hopes to distract her from the continent-sized craters in his wake.

This relic of a totem pole is hardly the most bizarre gift, if she'll be honest.

One time five years ago she followed Gildarts' trail to an inn in Desertio and found out much too late that Gildarts had left a boy here tied to a chair with colourful ribbons and flowers in his hair. Something about Happy Sweet Sixteen Bisca, you're a big girl now, so it's about time you bring a boy home!

(Bisca will admit, she really wanted to catch Gildarts and shoot him dead that day. But then again, Alzack is still her partner to this day, so she can't even stay mad.)

"Please tell me that's the worst of the souvenirs this time," Cana pleads, a knuckle kneading into the bridge of her nose.

Alzack and Bisca exchange a glance.

"Well… honestly, I'm not so sure how to describe this other one. It's pretty crazy," Alzack says. "Hold on, I'll take it out of my Requip dimension—"

"OH MY GOD!"

Interrupted, all eyes turn to Laki as she cradles a crocheted doll in her hands, perfectly in her likeness, at arm's length. And she continues to yell at the top of her lungs, falling to her knees like she wanted to worship this adorable creation.

"OH MY GOD, I AM SO CUTE. WHAT IS THIS. THIS IS ILLEGAL."

Alzack's eyes light right up, completely forgetting whatever is in his Requip space, shoving it back in and closing it.

" Woah ," he breathes in amazement, stepping forward to pick up a Lucy doll. His eyes twinkle with interest. "Is there one of Bisca?"

Bisca's cheeks heat up immediately. "What is that?! I don't think any of us consented to our appearance being used for commercial purposes!!" And when Alzack is handed the Bisca one only to burst into tears and do an imitation of Laki's doll-worship on his knees. Bisca explodes with, "stop it! This is how you get more Bickslows!"

"Oh goodness look at the Laxus one," Max holds it up with multiple scenarios of relentless teasing concocting in his head, "I never thought I wanted to turn Laxus into a marketable plushie until right now."

And so, the object in the requip dimension is forgotten, but Bisca is busy trying to use the dolls at target practice so they kind of had better things to worry about, clearly.

"To Erza Scarlet, to Freed Justine…. Is that another one for Mirajane?"

"Yes! From Judy's Flowers. Where should I put it?"

Nab sighs, inspecting the flower stands. The inside of the new guild hall is already pooling with them, it's at the point where he wants to send the delivery guys outside.

"I've got one for Cana Alberona!"

"Those go toward the bar, please. There's probably a bottle of alcohol in there and we don't want it to break near the entrance if it does."

"Another one for Erza Scarlet!"

"There's a set from Lamia Scale! It's addressed to the Thunder Legion."

"Please put the main one up on the stage, the rest can come down this way! And— oh my god that one has swords. Tell Erza to pick it up before it hurts someone!"

"Anyone knows if Warren is back yet?"

"Nope, he says he'll be back day-of!"

It's really busy, just getting everything ready. The Miss Fairy Tail Contest is happening tomorrow morning, and everyone's pitching in to get things sorted.

The flower and gift stands will be broken down right after tomorrow's contest, to become part of the Fantasia floats. It's vital that flowers aren't too obviously shared between floats, because it's rude for the flowers to be decorated on someone other than the recipient… well, at least these popular fellows get to lead their own assembly year after year.

"Freed's the most popular this year!" Bickslow laughs, when another comes in for the oh-so-amazing Freed Justine. "Aunt Lacy got me a really cool one! It's a teddy but it's made of flowers, wanna see? Wanna see?"

"She's just asking you to promote her toy store. You're like her mascot."

Freed is staring, mortified, as another magnificent arrangement of flowers come addressed to his name. He's cowering under the glamour of all these colours in his vicinity. Soon he's going to be sick from the smell of flowers.

"I'm honestly very troubled, Bickslow…" Freed sulks as he's pulled around to see everyone's. "I've never had to lead my own float before. Please let's just do a Thunder Legion One like usual…"

"Nuh-uh, I already agreed to host mine with Chico. Why don't you ask Ever?"

"...Ever's doing hers with Laki…. And I haven't seen Laxus around since last week."

"Haha, too bad! Have you tried asking Cana or Levy?"

"Levy already agreed on a cheer routine with Lucy and Mickey… Elfman's with Jet and Droy, no one wants to help me…"

"I guess you just gotta suck it up and do it yourself, Freed! Hero of Magnolia!"

Freed makes a wailing noise. "I just want to serve Laxus! I don't want to be the main attraction of the Fantasia!"

Nab sighs, setting down a basket that's considerably more humble than the others.

"Oh, nice," he says, reading off the tag, "it's for Mickey. Let's put it on the table with that other one that was for Macao and Wakaba."

"Wow. That's adorable," Enno says, holding up a tray of drinks for him.

This is from Judy Florist's. She also gave flowers to everyone, stands decorated with garlands and roses and specially-designed placards and products. This basket is endearing, but rather simple in comparison.

"I'm sure Mickey would be happy with it, but I can't help but think it looks underwhelming compared to the others, you know?" Nab chuckles. "I'm not trying to be ungrateful or jealous, I promise."

"It's okay, I totally get you," Enno sighs, "why do you think I left the guild in the first place, honestly? It's just so hard to stand up to the expectations in here."

The words make Nab grimace sympathetically.

"See, in here, you either become one of the shining stars…" Enno glances toward the rows and rows of flowers.

Gray and Erza are admiring their own. Even Elfman has a couple. Lucy's gotten some too and she's shocked by them. Levy is showing hers off and they're already chatting it up about how they'll build their floats this year.

And then, Enno glances at the table. They're all separated by recipient, and yet, this is all they have. Macao has a couple baskets, some shared with Wakaba. Wakaba got a similar amount, and Chico has a number that may or may not be addressed to Fairy Hills, or Sweetsville, instead of her. Mickey's got one. Jet and Droy got a complimentary one to accompany the bigger bouquet Levy got. Laki and Max have congratulation bouquets from the council, but a few others, like Nab, only briefly get addressed in a group bouquet for everyone.

And that's about it.

"...or you could spend years, years in here…" Enno's voice fades, just a little, as her eyes land on the simple basket Macao got, "and you're still just a passing acknowledgement in the eyes of the people of your own town."

That's why Enno left.

(Being in Fairy Tail is to be stuck in a shadow if you don't become a star. And for many people, it didn't matter how hard you tried— there would always be a younger generation above you.)

(Even Cana shines, but never bright enough to break the stigma of an 'eternal S-class candidate'…)

Nab sighs.

He understands. He doesn't want to be miserable, but he understands.

So he whines, half-heartedly. "Even though everyone did their best, only the prominent ones are ever remembered," he mulls. "Honestly I always thought I'd be fine with being in the background, but at the end of the day it kind of sucks that no one seems to care about the small fries, you know?"

When Nab speaks, those at the flowers do not notice.

But those at the seats do.

Joey's team chats it up among themselves, but Chico stares into the distance, clearly listening in. Vijeeter dances, just barely in earshot. Max sighs, though Laki pulls him by the arm and turns his attention back to the merchandise store. Her expression is stiff, and she doesn't let that be known.

Everyone feels it, to some degree.

But they shouldn't be hung up over thoughts like that.

It's Harvest season, the season to be full of joy and gratitude. They can't let these spiteful feelings show on their faces. It's the time to celebrate.

(There's no one to be upset at.It's their own fault they're not strong and charismatic.)

(Just hold it in. Nothing anyone can do about the fact that they're not special.)

"But… there aren't any for Natsu…" Enno quietly points out, and she knows, that everyone has noticed the same thing.

It's as if the town itself erased Natsu from existence.

And the thought is bitter, bitter, bitter . How is he feeling now? It's crushing to even imagine. Did the entire town jump on the opportunity to forget about Natsu?

Maybe delaying their concerns for the Fantasia was a mistake.

But then again… everyone needed their space now. There just wasn't any time anyone could spare to worry about Natsu, not when war and rebuilding and preparations came one after another.

Natsu had disappeared.

If they waited any longer, maybe he really would be gone.

Harvest Festival begins.

"It's amazing to think how far we've come from just a few weeks ago," someone gossips at the bar. "I really thought my life would be over, when those Naked Mummy fellows came by…"

"We really have everyone here to thank for getting us through the peril."

"My store's still in shambles, though! But it's fine. It was due a remodelling, anyways."

The lights flick off.

"It's starting!"

Music streams through the speakers. The curtains call and glitter sprinkles through the air on apparitions of light, leading toward the stage. Light filters through the darkness.

Max spins onto stage.

"WELCOME TO THE FIRST MISS FAIRY TAIL CONTEST!"

The thunderous roar of cheering that blasts through the entire guild hall shakes the building to the core, and Happy squeaks, reaching up to cover his ears.

"My name is Max, the sand wizard, shopkeeper and fresh graduate of Council school by the WAYYYY!!! And I—!" he dramatizes, "WILL BE YOUR HOST FOR TODAY!"

There's a screeching feedback of excited screaming and cheering in the crowd and Max beams, luxuriating in the attention.

"Oh wow the men have gone rabid," Bickslow laughs, coming to sit beside Gray at the table.

"What the— Bickslow, you're alone today?" Gray asks.

Bickslow's lips purse, "Ever's gone to her girl friends, and Laxus hasn't been home in a while… Freed's been up all night with Levy and Laki, organising the second floor library, so he's probably sleeping in the lounge?"

"Oh, so you got ditched too. Man, we're all just leftovers here…" Gray sighs.

"Rude," Jet says.

"Haha, now, now," Droy pushes Jet onto the seat beside Bickslow, finding himself a spot by Gray. "Everyone's got something to do. Alzack's coming too, I think Macao and Wakaba are running late on a mission."

Loke's not around. Elfman's helping out at the bar today with Enno and Chico. Which probably means Mirajane is participating. Since no one can see the usual crew around, they'd reckon all the girls have run off backstage. Jet and Droy are near the front of the stage, ready to scream incoherently when Levy shows up. Alzack's up there too.

Joey's team are at their own spot. It seems like Mickey isn't participating in the contest, which is unusual…

"She said it wouldn't be worth it, apparently," Jet says, when he notices Gray staring. "Between Mirajane, Erza, Evergreen and Lucy, she doesn't have a snowball's chance in hell in a popularity contest."

"What?" Bickslow's brow raises. "When has that ever stopped her from just going at it anyways? Isn't her whole thing to charge in and have fun without caring what others think?"

"Yeah…" Gray frowns. "I thought she'd join to square up against Laki, at least."

"Well…" Droy starts, hesitant, "recent events have been a little… well… humbling, for a lot of us," he says. "She said she'll pass on competing unprepared this year."

"I'm actually more surprised Loke's not here," Jet says. "He'd usually be in the front seats for these kinda events… though, can he not come here as often now that he's Lucy's spirit?"

"What? He'll be so bummed he missed out…"

"I guess Lucy might need spirits for her part later. It's reasonable. I hope he shows up for Fantasia, though."

"Come to think of it, if the girls are all backstage, what's Juvia doing?" Bickslow asks. "She's not officially a member, so she can't join, right?"

He regrets the question when Jet and Droy notably cringe, trying to hide their expressions behind the drinks Elfman passes to them.

Gray doesn't let it go, though. "What, you guys are still uncomfortable about her?" He sighs, "she said she'll be coming for the Fantasia in the evening, but until then she's got something to do, so she left the town this morning."

"...it's not about being uncomfortable with her," Droy mutters, very mildly.

Jet's brow raises. "Alone? I thought she was under Fairy Tail's supervision."

The council wouldn't be escorting her. It doesn't sound good to leave her alone.

"Chill a little," Gray says, poking a finger between Jet's scrunched brows and earning a yelp, "with the noise of the Fantasia, no one's looking at her. Let her have a little time to herself."

"Are you sure that's fine—"

"ENTRY NUMBER ONE! Our guild's youngest veteran, the generational defensive line! An exotic beauty with an otherworldly stomach— it's CANA ALBEROOOONA!!!"

Juvia stands upon the outskirts of Magnolia, a hand on her hair as it scatters in the wind.

There's a runic barrier spread across the entire region of Magnolia, sending information of entrants and leavers to Freed and Levy's bookkeeping system. Freed had it set up as an extra precaution for future attacks.

But she felt uneasy.

If this rune didn't detect Natsu's presence… it could mean he left before it was set up, or that he hadn't left at all. If Natsu's any similar to Ryos and Gaji when it comes to hiding their presence… they could never find him.

Who could drive a wizard of Fairy Tail to this point?

(If there's anything Juvia knows, it's that Natsu rings with the same pain and loneliness she once felt, that she knows also comes from Gjaeel.)

(A deeply sentimental, dark yet evil, and yet again not at all malicious feeling.)

(The feeling of magic inside you, bubbling up into something beyond your control.)

Juvia is sensitive to magic, having lived so long with too much of it inside her. That's why she touches Gajeel and clings, and that's why she knows that Natsu hides and secludes himself. She understands from the words of the other guild members that Natsu does not fully open up to them.

She knows, from Gajeel's words, that Natsu fails to give his heart to them.

And Juvia knows. She knows how it feels, to be unable to trust others because of your own uncontrollable magic flowing out into the atmosphere. She knows this— she understands this palpable fear of rejection deep in her nightmares, a grim reminder worn like a protection charm on her chest, weighing down like shackles on her wrists.

(Perhaps, anyone in Phantom Lord would understand that kind of sorrow.)

(Phantom Lord knows best the feeling of those cursed by magic they never wanted to wield. They understand best, the loneliness of being ostracised by the heart of magic, the pain of not understanding and not being able to belong.)

She knows that Natsu wants nothing but to return to the side of those that will not be destroyed and will not be disgusted by him, but he's lived without that love for so long, he no longer recognizes who he can approach.

She understands.

"Juvia, dear?"

She turns to find Aria, who greets her warmly.

"It is so nice to see you again."

Aria has shackles around his wrists and ankles, and thick as a visor around his eyes. But he looks at peace, perpetual tears for the tragedy of humanity no longer spilling from his eyes.

She is surprised to see Aria here.

"Aria," she breathes. She never thought she'd see him again. He doesn't seem to have a guard, either. "Why have you come?"

And Aria raises a single card.

"Lady Titania cordially extended an invitation to me," he says. "She did not inform me of a way to reject, so I thought it would be rude to not show up. And it would be a waste to not utilize this rare chance to wander without an escort."

Juvia can't help the smile on her face.

Aria cannot see, and yet, he misses nothing.

"You look enlightened, Juvia," he says. "I am happy for you."

Juvia nods, even knowing he can't see it. Is she enlightened? Liberated? Those feel like big words. She's hardly free yet.

But she's definitely warm, and happy.

"Yes, Juvia has now become much happier," she admits. "And… Juvia wants to return the favour. Fairy Tail helped my heart find its way to sunlight… Juvia wants to do the same, for Fairy Tail."

Aria seems taken aback, mildly, by that.

But he smiles.

"If that is so, then, as an old friend, we will lend you our aid wholeheartedly."

Juvia leaves.

Aria enters.

Freed records this, the Runes a spreadsheet before him across the airspace of Fairy Tail's second floor. He yawns, waking up as the cheers downstairs get progressively louder. On stage, Lucy leaps out with Plue, and then Virgo, and then she spins onto Taurus' back and gets launched into the air, the cheerleading routine of absolute dreams making its way through in rings of light and Celestial Magic confetti bursts in gold and blue. The uproarious atmosphere isn't dwindling anytime soon.

Freed sighs fondly, leaning against the second floor railing with a resigned smile.

"Oh, you woke up, Freed!" Elfman grins, coming up with two mugs of coffee milkshakes. Freed gawks at it. Elfman's really intent on making everything a milkshake these days. "Made you a manly milkshake! It's bitter!"

"WHY?"

But Freed drinks it anyway. surprisingly good. Somehow.

They watch the contest go on. Mirajane's on stage now, and she's showing off her regained magic as much as she wants. He's happy for her, really.

"I'm envious."

Freed almost doesn't catch it, when Elfman says it.

"Now again, I'm the only one that can't do a full-body transformation," Elfman says. And he regrets it the second after he says it, it's clear, because he falls silent, and doesn't touch his drink. "I know, it's stupid, really stupid. How can I say that? I've always been like this. My sister's recovering. She's recovering because of me. How could I have the audacity to be anything but happy for her?"

Freed knows he's not looking for any advice, or rebuttal, or even a response.

Just let him speak, because Freed's ears are obligatorily deaf just for today. The music of the Miss Fairy Tail Contest is far too loud, after all.

Let a man whine pathetically, at least into the noise and cacophony of everyone's joys. Because if the loudest man in the crowd doesn't cry in the chaos, nothing else can drown out his sorrows.

"It's dumb. I didn't even do anything, back when Naked Mummy was here. I just ran out, leading people back and forth, but I wasn't strong enough to protect everyone. They were always in danger when they were with me," Elfman says. "And yet, people's talking so loudly about me just because Nee-san saved them and I just happened ot be in the same direction."

He's always just an extension of the Strauss. The lesser extension, because his powers are nothing compared to what they were able to do.

He tried so hard to build upon his own prominence, but now that Mirajane's back in full force, it seems he's no longer 'Elfman, the manly wizard that solves everything with his fists'. He's come right back around, to being 'Elfman, the younger brother of Mirajane. Mirajane's a scary she-devil, and Elfman's arms are beastly! Just his arms, though!'

And the thought crushes him. Because now, there's no Lisanna to ease their opinions. There's no one to tell the crowd that Elfman may only have arms of a Beast, but he shoulders both his sisters in each arm and that's how proud he is of his two angels!

There's no Lisanna anymore.

"Don't do that, Elfman," Freed pats him on the shoulder. "This is the season of giving thanks for the providence of nature. It's no time to mourn what nature took from us."

He's right.

And thus, Elfman takes a breath.

And turns toward the stage once more.

"...wait, the noise is strange," Freed frowns, hurrying before Elfman to the ledge again, looking down.

The transition had been gradual. From excited cheering, to anticipation— and suddenly, panicked confusion. The volume inflated twofold.

"Something's wrong!" Elfman realizes.

Erza's sword performance ceases as she realizes something. Max isn't commentating anymore, and the reason is clear.

Max's body is overrun with blue, gleaming, runic symbols. It trails up to his fingertips, across his cheeks, and as far as his ankles.

Several in the crowd are seeing them too— mainly members of Fairy Tail. Their confusion is infecting the civilian guests, and Freed sucks in a sharp breath.

"Damage control! We need to—"

Freed freezes, because Elfman is looking at him with horrified eyes. Elfman's body is covered in these runes, too— and Freed realizes, a moment later, than his body's covered, too .

"...what is this?"

It's definitely not his runes. It's not something he recognizes, but he reads the ancient script one by one, trying to decipher the coded meanings, bit by bit.

Eruption of Magic.

Supremacy of the Key.

Time.

Child of Fire and Dragons.

"What?" he stares at that word again.

What else could it mean?

"GUESTS,"

Everyone grinds still when Makarov's voice booms over. He's got no runes on his body, which is a small relief.

"ALL OUT."

The world abruptly resumes.

"Alright, guests, looks like the show's over!" Max declares, loud and booming through every speaker in the hall. He sounds a forced laughter before his speech, but the fear in his eyes is real. He raises his arm and says, loudly. "Everyone OUT! Looks like Fairy Tail's having some fun today! It's a surprise event for Fairy Tail members only!"

He laughs, like this is scripted, like this is genuinely exciting.

And the crowd's confused.

"Oh… Fairy Tail's doing something again?"

"Oh dear! We better go before we're caught up in it then!"

"AND DON'T FORGET TO CAST YOUR BETS FOR THE MISS FAIRY TAIL CONTEST!" Max hollers after them, "send in your votes and they'll tally by tomorrow! We Fairy Tail will definitely make you a Fantasia to remember, so see you on the streets tonight! BYE!"

"Wood Make:" Laki slams her hands on the ground, and the ground beneath everyone shifts, a speedy moving floor sliding everyone right outward the courtyard. "All truly great thoughts are conceived by walking!"

And at the same time, there's Gray contributing structure and ledges, just so the hordes of guests don't become a horrible mountain of painful limbs: "Ice Make: A WALKALATOR NEEDS RAILINGS, LAKI!"

"IT GOES AGAINST MY AESTHETIC!"

"SAFETY FIRST!"

The door of Fairy Tail slams shut with every guest fallen over the barey-construed ice handles around them side by side. They're all strewn over the tables outside, thankfully not over each other.

There is complete silence from outside.

Someone reaches for the door, but it's freezing cold. Gray had sealed the door shut with ice from the inside, and a mere moment later, runes rose, a simple, single-layer runic sequence from Freed meant to block out sound.

Promptly, chaos.