Chapter 3
Finding the apartment building wasn't hard—it was just as Mirajane described, nestled on a quiet street not far from the guild. The pastel-colored exterior had a certain charm, with flower boxes hanging under the windows and a small garden framing the entrance. It felt welcoming in a way I hadn't expected.
I hesitated for a moment before walking up the steps to the main door. A small brass plaque beside it read "Heart of Magnolia Apartments." Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the office door labeled "Landlady."
The door opened almost immediately, revealing a short, older woman with a stern expression and sharp eyes that seemed to size me up in an instant. She wore a floral apron over a simple dress, her hands resting on her hips.
"Yes? Can I help you?" she asked, her voice brisk but not unkind.
I straightened up, trying to appear confident. "Hi, I'm Lucy Heartfilia. Mirajane from Fairy Tail told me there's an apartment available here?"
The landlady's eyes narrowed slightly, but at the mention of Mirajane, her expression softened. "Ah, Fairy Tail. That explains it." She stepped aside, gesturing for me to come in.
The office was small but cozy, with neatly organized paperwork and a faint scent of lavender. She gestured for me to sit as she opened a thick binder. "You're in luck. We've got one unit open—a one-bedroom on the third floor. It's got a good view of the river, and it's quiet. Perfect for someone who doesn't like too much noise."
"That sounds great," I said, my excitement bubbling to the surface. "What are the terms?"
She flipped through a few pages before handing me a small contract. "Rent's due at the start of each month, no exceptions. No wild parties, no damage to the property, and if you break anything, you pay for it. We keep things clean and respectable here."
I nodded eagerly. "That won't be a problem."
The landlady studied me for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to trust me. Finally, she nodded and handed me a key. "Alright. Third floor, Unit 3B. If you have any problems, come see me."
"Thank you," I said sincerely, clutching the key like it was the answer to all my problems.
The stairs creaked slightly as I made my way up to the third floor, but the building had a quaint charm that made me feel at ease. When I reached Unit 3B, I unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The apartment was small but perfect. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, illuminating the hardwood floors and the simple furnishings—a small couch, a wooden dining table, and a bed tucked into the corner of the single bedroom. The kitchen was tiny but functional, with polished countertops and neatly arranged cabinets.
I set my bag down and took a deep breath, letting the stillness of the space wash over me. For the first time in years, I felt like I could finally breathe.
As I unpacked, I found myself carefully arranging my celestial keys on the nightstand. They were more than just keys—they were reminders of how far I'd come.
But as I pulled out a framed photo from the bottom of my bag, my chest tightened. It was an old family picture: my mother smiling warmly, holding me close, while my father stood stiffly beside us.
I sank onto the bed, clutching the frame in my hands. Memories I'd tried to bury surged to the surface—my father's harsh words, the way he'd made me feel like nothing I did was ever good enough. The yelling, the threats, the icy stares that left me feeling like I was suffocating.
I'd run away when I was a teenager, determined to escape that life, but the scars had followed me. Even now, they lingered, a reminder of the family I'd left behind.
Swallowing hard, I shoved the photo into the drawer of the nightstand and closed it with more force than necessary. I refused to let the past dictate my future. This was a new beginning, and I wasn't going to let anything—or anyone—hold me back.
I walked over to the balcony, sliding open the door and stepping outside. The view was breathtaking—a clear sight of the river winding through Magnolia, sparkling in the late afternoon sun. The sound of the water, the breeze against my face—it all felt like a promise of something better.
"This is it," I murmured to myself. "A fresh start."
After a long day, the idea of a bath felt like the perfect way to unwind. The bathroom was surprisingly spacious, with glossy white tiles that gleamed under the soft glow of a modern overhead light. A deep, built-in tub sat snugly along the far wall, framed by sleek silver fixtures and a wide shelf that could easily hold candles, soaps, or whatever else I'd eventually decorate it with.
Steam curled up as I turned the knobs, the sound of rushing water filling the room. I added a splash of vanilla-scented bath salts I'd picked up earlier, letting the fragrance swirl in the air. The mirror above the sink had fogged over slightly, adding to the serene atmosphere.
I eased myself into the tub, sighing as the hot water embraced me. The stress of the day melted away, the warmth seeping into my muscles and calming the ache in my shoulders. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe.
"This is heaven," I murmured, resting my head against the edge of the tub. The water lapped gently against my skin, and I closed my eyes, letting my thoughts drift.
Fairy Tail had already proven to be more chaotic than I'd imagined, but there was something about it that made me believe I'd finally found a place where I could belong.
Eventually, the water began to cool, and I reluctantly climbed out, wrapping myself in a soft, fluffy towel. The bathroom smelled of vanilla, and the lingering steam made the space feel cozy, like a personal sanctuary. My bare feet padded softly against the tile as I stepped back into the main room, feeling refreshed and lighter than I had in weeks.
Wrapped in a fluffy towel, I stepped out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind me as the cooler air of the main room brushed against my damp skin. The faint scent of vanilla clung to me, a soothing reminder of the bath I'd just enjoyed. My hair dripped occasionally, leaving small droplets on the wooden floor as I padded toward the little table where I'd left my tea.
The apartment was dimly lit, with the last rays of evening sun streaming through the large windows, casting long shadows across the room. It was peaceful, the quiet hum of the river outside creating a sense of calm.
But the moment I glanced toward the couch, my entire body went rigid.
Someone was sitting there.
A strangled yelp escaped me, and I almost dropped my towel as my heart jumped into my throat. For a terrifying second, all I could think was intruder! My instincts screamed at me to grab something—anything—to defend myself.
The figure shifted, turning his head toward me, and realization hit me like a ton of bricks.
"Natsu?!" I shrieked, my voice echoing in the small apartment. My pulse was still racing, but now it was a mix of shock and anger instead of fear.
There he was, sprawled on my couch like he owned the place, his feet casually propped up on the armrest. He had a book open in his hands—my journal, I realized with horror.
"Oh, you're done," he said lazily, not bothering to move from his comfortable position.
I gaped at him, my embarrassment quickly giving way to indignation. "What are you doing in my apartment?!"
His eyes flicked to the towel, lingering just long enough to make my skin prickle, before locking onto mine again. His pupils looked strange—narrowed, almost slitted, as though something primal was stirring just beneath the surface. The room felt suddenly warmer, the weight of his gaze making it hard to breathe.
"Why are you even here?" I demanded, desperate to shift the focus.
At last, he held up a familiar gold-trimmed notebook. "You left this at the guild."
My stomach plummeted.
Mortification struck me like lightning. That notebook was filled with my personal thoughts, half-finished stories, and random musings I'd never wanted anyone to see.
"You broke in through the window just to bring that back?" I snapped, trying to mask my embarrassment with anger.
"The window was open," he said flatly, though his tone had a dangerous edge.
"Oh, well, that makes it perfectly fine then!" I shot back, narrowing my eyes. "Should I just leave it open and put up a welcome mat for uninvited guests, or are you the only one allowed to use it?"
His lips twitched slightly, but instead of smirking, his expression darkened. "You should lock it next time," he said, his voice dropping to a near growl. "Someone else might come in."
The warning in his tone sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn't just advice—it was territorial.
"Oh, please," I retorted, rolling my eyes. "If someone else did come in, they might at least have the decency to knock first!"
He didn't answer right away, his eyes briefly scanning me before returning to the book in his hands. His relaxed demeanor shifted subtly; his jaw tightened, and his gaze narrowed.
"What the hell are you wearing?" he growled, his voice low and rough, almost like a rumble that came from deep within his chest.
The words sent heat rushing to my face. "What do you think I'm wearing?" I snapped, clutching the towel tighter around me. "I just got out of the bath!"
He didn't reply immediately, his gaze not leaving mine. Instead, he stood slowly, his movements deliberate and controlled, as if he were holding something back. The intensity in his posture made the small apartment feel smaller, like his presence alone could fill the space.
"You're part of Fairy Tail now," he said, his voice quieter but heavy with meaning. "That means you might not be safe. No one touches what's mine."
The words hung in the air, the possessiveness in his tone making my breath hitch. My mind scrambled to process what he'd just said, but before I could form a response, he turned toward the window.
"Wait—what does that even mean?" I blurted out, my frustration bubbling over.
He paused, glancing back at me over his shoulder. His expression was unreadable, his dark eyes steady.
"Figure it out," he muttered, then climbed out the window with effortless grace, vanishing into the night.
For a moment, I just stood there, towel-clad and thoroughly flustered, the cool air of the room doing nothing to calm the heat in my cheeks.
"What's his problem?" I muttered under my breath, though my heart continued to race.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the large windows of my apartment, pulling me from a surprisingly restful sleep. For a moment, I lay in bed, listening to the soft hum of the city waking up
After a quick breakfast, I decided to explore the town. The map Mirajane had sketched out for me sat folded in my bag, but I figured wandering aimlessly might be a better way to get a feel for the place.
The streets of Magnolia were vibrant and bustling, a patchwork of cobblestones and colorful shopfronts. Hanging flower baskets adorned lampposts, their blooms spilling over in bursts of reds, yellows, and purples. Vendors called out to passersby, their stalls filled with everything from freshly baked bread to shimmering trinkets.
A bakery caught my attention first, the scent of warm pastries wafting through the open doorway. I paused, tempted, but decided to keep moving. I wanted to see as much of the town as I could.
As I wandered deeper into the marketplace, the crowd thickened. People moved with purpose, but there was a friendliness in the air—shopkeepers greeting regulars, children darting between legs, and couples walking hand-in-hand. The entire town felt like one big community.
I stopped at a small bookstall, my fingers brushing the spines of worn novels and spell tomes. The vendor, an older man with a bushy mustache, smiled warmly.
"New to town, aren't you?" he asked, his voice carrying the gravelly tone of someone who'd spent years chatting with customers.
"Is it that obvious?" I replied with a laugh.
He chuckled. "We don't get many unfamiliar faces around here. Let me know if you need help finding anything."
I thanked him and moved on, my spirits lifted by the easy friendliness of the town.
As I turned a corner, a flash of blue caught my eye. A petite girl with short, sky-blue hair was balancing a precarious stack of books in her arms, her face half-hidden behind the pile. She moved with surprising ease, weaving through the crowd without dropping a single one.
I couldn't help but watch, both impressed and slightly concerned. When she shifted directions and nearly bumped into me, I instinctively reached out to steady her.
"Whoa! Careful there," I said, grabbing the topmost book before it tumbled to the ground.
She peeked around the stack, her bright brown eyes wide with surprise. "Oh! Thank you!"
"No problem," I said, handing the book back to her.
She shifted the pile in her arms to get a better grip, then glanced at me with a warm smile. "I guess I owe you one. I'm Levy, by the way."
"Lucy," I replied, smiling back.
Her gaze flicked down briefly before returning to my face, and she grinned knowingly. "So, you're with Fairy Tail?"
The question caught me off guard. "How'd you know?"
She tilted her head, tapping a finger against my hand—the one with the pink Fairy Tail mark.
I flushed, embarrassed that I hadn't thought of that. "Oh. Right."
"Don't worry," she said with a laugh, shifting her books again. "You'll get used to people noticing. Welcome to the guild, by the way!"
"Thanks," I said, still feeling a little self-conscious. "Do you live here in Magnolia?"
"Born and raised," she said proudly. "And I know this place like the back of my hand. If you ever need a guide, I'm your girl."
"Actually," I said, glancing at the books in her arms, "it looks like you've got your hands full. Should we drop those off first?"
Levy blinked, then laughed. "Good idea. I don't think I can balance these much longer!"
Levy led me to a small building just a block away from the marketplace. The exterior was modest, with a sign above the door that read "Magnolia Public Library." Inside, the air was cool and filled with the faint, comforting scent of old paper and ink.
"Just give me a sec," Levy said as she carried the books to the counter. The librarian, an elderly woman with glasses perched on the edge of her nose, greeted her with a smile and a knowing shake of her head.
"You'll take the whole library home one day, Levy," the woman teased.
"Only half," Levy quipped back, earning a soft chuckle.
I wandered through the nearest aisle while I waited, marveling at the sheer number of books crammed into the little space.
"Okay!" Levy called as she jogged back over, now free of her towering pile. "Where to next?"
Levy led me through the marketplace first, pointing out her favorite stalls and introducing me to a few of the vendors. She had a way of making everyone laugh, her cheerful demeanor infectious.
"This is the best fruit stand in town," she said, stopping at a stall overflowing with ripe apples, oranges, and berries. "Tell Mr. Gaston you're with Fairy Tail, and he might give you a discount."
The old vendor winked at me. "Depends on how much trouble you cause," he teased, making Levy laugh.
She then took me to a small café tucked away from the main square, its outdoor tables shaded by a canopy of ivy. "This place has the best tea and pastries," Levy said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And it's quiet—perfect for reading or writing."
"You read a lot, don't you?" I asked, gesturing to the books she'd just returned.
"It's kind of my thing," she admitted with a shy smile. "I'm a script mage, so books and words are... everything to me."
"Script mage?" I repeated, intrigued.
"I'll show you sometime," she said, her grin widening. "But first, we need to stop by the park—it's gorgeous this time of day."
The park was just as she described, with sprawling green lawns and towering trees that provided shade for families picnicking and children playing. A small fountain bubbled in the center, its crystal-clear water sparkling in the sunlight.
"I can see why you love it here," I said, taking it all in.
"It's home," Levy said simply, her tone warm and genuine. "And now it's your home too."
Her words made my chest tighten in the best way. I'd only just met her, but I already felt like I'd made a real friend—someone who saw the good in everything and everyone.
By the time I returned to my apartment, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting the river in shades of gold and orange. My feet ached from all the walking, but my heart felt lighter. thanks to Levy, I already felt like I was starting to belong.
As I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, a soft smile tugged at my lips.