Natsu's about to stage a rescue, but he's not the only one...
- K. Chandler
"What happened?" Natsu demanded.
"It was that two-faced weasel, Doranbolt." Romeo clenched his fist. "Came poking around with a buncha his copper pals when we were at the boxing arena. Pops distracted them so I could get away. Doranbolt probably had him sent to the hoosegow."
Natsu swore loudly. Anyone who'd been with the family long enough had a rap or two. Even Natsu'd had a couple of run-ins with Johnny Law, but he couldn't imagine having to do time.
This was all his fault. He should never have left his team alone. And even after they got back, he'd been too busy playing cards to notice anything was wrong. He was a terrible Capo, letting this crew take the heat like this.
"I did get the payment, Boss," Romeo said, holding up his hands as if to placate Natsu. "Don't you worry about that."
"Never mind the payment! What's important now is helping Macao."
"What can we do?"
Natsu grinned, punching own open palm and grinding his knuckles against it. "We bust him out! What else? Don't worry about a thing, kiddo. We got this."
Natsu wasn't sure how they were going to manage that, but he had to find a way. He owed it to Macao.
Makarov thumped on the speakeasy door. The guard peered at him through the slot.
"Down here," Makarov said.
"Oh!" The hulking guard slid the window shut and let him in. "Good afternoon, Don Makarov, sir."
Makarov smiled at the eager guard. "Hello, Elfman. I'm here to speak with Mira."
"She's right inside."
"See that we aren't disturbed."
The big man bobbed his head. "Baciamo le mani," he called as Makarov passed.
"Good man!" Makarov said.
This traditional greeting stemmed from the custom of kissing a lord's ring in fealty. It was still occasionally heard when addressing one's betters, but it had largely fallen out of fashion. Makarov didn't see the point in enforcing it with his people, though some of the made men greeted him like that anyways.
Makarov hoisted himself onto one of the high bar stools, waiting until Elfman exited before shifting his features into a stern mask.
"Don Makarov. It's not like you to be here before we open." Mirajane abandoned the glasses she had been setting out. She started to brew a pot of coffee. "Something on your mind?"
"We have much to discuss," Makarov said.
Mirajane stayed quiet, likely waiting for him to continue. She spoke when he didn't offer more: "I saw that Laxus left in a huff yesterday." Mirajane said, her tone cautious. She placed a steaming mug in front of him.
"That boy…" Makarov sighed, shaking his head. "What am I going to do with him?"
Mirajane gave a sympathetic hum. "There's one in every family."
"Maybe other families can live with that. We can't."
"You really think he'll make so poor a Don?" she asked.
"He's quick-tempered. Violent. Vengeful. He cares less about the consequences than he does about the immediate result. What sort of a Don do you think he'll make, huh?" He dumped cream into his cup and swished it around with a spoon.
"It would be difficult," Mirajane agreed.
"If he were to succeed me, it would destroy this family."
"You don't think we're resilient enough?" Mirajane said.
"Care to test that theory?" Makarov asked. "No, Laxus will not do. He's too short-sighted for the role. Too self-interested."
"How has he responded to your attempts to teach him?"
"Not well. I've all but given up."
"If you don't like Laxus for the role, there's always Natsu," Mirajane said.
"Ah, yes. Tell me about Natsu. What's your honest assessment of him?" Makarov steeped his fingers, keeping his expression neutral.
"Natsu's young."
"Immature," Makarov said.
"He is the least experienced of all the Capos," Mirajane said. "Remember that."
"Yesterday, he was grinning from ear-to-ear after he set fire to the Phantomlord 'still that he shut down with Erza's crew."
Mirajane gave a wry smile. Not much escaped her notice. "And he's still riding the high of his recent promotion. He may well settle down after time passes."
"So, he's no better than Laxus. I had hoped that Erza would be a good role model. Maybe knock some sense into him," Makarov said. "You know how hands on she is."
Erza was one of his favorite subordinates. She was practically born to be an executive.
"I wouldn't count on that," Mirajane said.
"You don't think Erza equal to the task?" Makarov asked. "You didn't think she'd make a good Don either. I know you two used to be rivals."
"It's not that," Mirajane said. "Erza's talented, but she doesn't have the sort of broader influence she'd need to bring the family together."
"I don't disagree with that."
"Her relationship with Natsu is a different problem. She's always been good at handling him, but she seems to have trouble keeping Natsu in line now that he's been promoted."
"I forgot that she wouldn't have absolute authority over Natsu like she used to."
"He's trying to find his footing as her equal, and she isn't sure whether she's supposed to be a mentor or a friend."
Makarov let his chin rest heavily on his palm. "What am I going to do? I have to choose a successor soon. I can't keep putting this one off."
"What's your hurry?" Mirajane asked. "Are you planning to step aside soon?"
"I'm not young, Mirajane. I don't have forever," Makarov said. "Whomever I choose will need to be groomed for the role. And given the state of things, that is going to take time."
"You are getting older…" Mirajane said. "But not that old. We're not at any immediate risk of losing you. You have time to make a good decision. Let's not be too hasty. We might not survive the shock of such a sudden change."
"Might not survive, huh?"
She was right, as usual.
"What do you suggest, then?" Makarov asked.
Mirajane rotated her mug, staring at the surface of her drink like she was seeking answers from its depths.
"Start grooming Natsu… personally," Mirajane said. "It'll give you the chance to see how quickly he learns. It'll give him a mentor who isn't Erza. As Don, he'll take you more seriously."
Makarov nodded.
"But don't give up on Laxus yet," Mirajane continued. "He may come around. Who knows? We might get lucky and both of them might work out. That's the best case scenario. They could even take over as Don and Underboss if they get along."
"When pigs grow wings, Mirajane."
"Then have one of them start a new branch of the family, just like Gildarts did."
"Laxus might be well-suited for that," Makarov said. "Giving him full responsibility for an operation may bring out the best in him. Provided he cleans up his act, that is."
"That's exactly what I was thinking," Mirajane said. "And if that still doesn't work, you could always bring Gildarts back."
"I have him handling the Onibus business. That situation's so sensitive right now."
"But it won't be forever. If things really don't pan out…"
"Then he'd be my fallback," Makarov nodded. "I suppose I can wait a while longer before finalizing on a choice."
Laxus never figured he'd be takin' in the view through a set of bars. Of course, he was on the outside looking in, which changed things quite a bit.
"This is the fella," Detective Doranbolt had said. "We picked him up last night, trying to make a delivery of liquor. Thought he might be one of yours."
Laxus had recognized the prisoner right away. Sitting on the steel bench, his knees tucked to his chest, was Macao Conbolt.
Laxus fought to keep the bark of laughter from escaping his throat. See what happened when you let an idiot like Natsu to 'lead' a band of clowns? You'd get a three-ring circus, that's what.
"I should thank you for providing my daily dose of entertainment, Detective," Laxus said.
Macao perked up at the sound of Laxus' voice.
Laxus looked away, pretending not to recognize him. It wasn't his job to clean up Natsu's messes.
"He's not one of yours?" Doranbolt asked. "I could have sworn he was with Fairy Tail."
"What makes you believe that?" Laxus asked.
"He's wearing your mark. And we found him conducting business at your illegal boxing arena." Doranbolt's eyes narrowed.
"My boxing arena?" Laxus asked, shrugging. "I don't know anything about a boxing arena."
It was technically true. The arena was Natsu's job.
How long would it take the chump to work his way out of this one?
"My mistake," Doranbolt said. "I suppose someone will come for him eventually."
Macao heaved a resigned sigh, his shoulders slumping.
Guilt twisted behind Laxus' ribs as he followed Doranbolt out of the cells.
Who was he trying to punish? Natsu was the idiot. It wasn't Macao's fault. Macao was family.
Laxus let out a long-suffering sigh. The things he did for others…
"On second thought, Detective," Laxus called, keeping his voice low.
They had made it partway up the stairs the led out of the prison and back to the police station.
Doranbolt's mouth twitched like he was fighting a grin. "I thought he wasn't one of yours?"
The sneaky weasel was trying to press his advantage.
"Loyalty pays dividends," Laxus said, shrugging. "You're familiar with this concept, yes? He could be useful to me. I'll wait for him upstairs."
"Not so fast. Aren't you forgetting something?" Doranbolt asked.
"What's that?" Laxus asked. He stepped forward so he was chest-to-chest with the detective, who was a good six inches shorter than he was.
"There is the matter of… payment."
Laxus snorted. Who did this fella think he was? If it wasn't for Laxus, Elias Doranbolt would be a nobody beat cop stuffing his face with stale doughnuts while trying to stay relevant in the precinct. Did he really think he could negotiate with Laxus, a man who would someday run the entire city?
Then again, it was always useful to have a copper in his back pocket. A little favor might be worth the investment.
"You're lucky I like you," Laxus said, pulling out his billfold. "…How much?"
Doranbolt snorted. "Surely, you don't think I'm so easily swayed, Mr. Laxus."
"Certainly not." Laxus kept his expression neutral. "But you must have wanted something. You're the one who contacted me."
"The clinic on 23rd. You know it?"
"I know of it."
"What do you know about the license to sell medicines?"
"That's a question for the good doctor," Laxus said. "It's his clinic, after all."
The clinic was a private practice run by one of Laxus' most trusted soldatos, Freed Justine. With his license to practice medicine and access to the largest hospital in the city, Freed served as the family's dedicated private physician. It was handy to have someone who could provide care for injuries and triage gunshot wounds without having to explain anything to the public.
"Surely, you must know something," Doranbolt insisted.
Laxus knew more than just something. As a doctor, Freed was also allowed to prescribe liquor for 'medicinal' purposes, making him as much distributor as physician.
"Let's cut to the chase," Laxus said. "Is this about a Ms. Wendy Marvell?"
Doranbolt stiffened, tugging at his collar. "What do you know about Wendy?"
"Why don't you tell me about Wendy?" Laxus asked, even though he already knew.
The young woman in question was Doranbolt's niece, but as far as Laxus knew, the detective treated her like a daughter.
"A-Are you threatening her?"
"Hardly. I'm a family man, after all." Laxus smiled. "Just like you."
Doranbolt nodded slowly, as if still unsure. In faltering sentences, he explained how his niece had concocted a remedy for stomach ailments, but no one was willing to accept it as medicine since she was just a nursing student.
"You're asking for help getting her product distributed?" Laxus asked.
"You can really do that?"
"Don't underestimate the reach of the Fairy Tail family. But of course, you are asking a lot," Laxus said.
"So you can't help?"
"I didn't say that. But that lout in the cell isn't worth this."
"All right, what did you have in mind?" Doranbolt asked.
"Nothing right now," Laxus said. "But you'll owe me. And at some point, I may need you to return the favor."
Doranbolt nodded. "Understood."
"Then release him."
Natsu's crew waited until the next evening's shift-change the to make their move, after most of the station had left for the day. It had been more than a full day since Macao had been arrested, and Natsu hoped that his friend was all right.
Police Headquarters was a massive building on a lot that stretched the entire city block. Tall columns and classic arches sat atop stone steps. A gaudy dome extended skyward like a crown of authority, looming over them. A line of austere, black automobiles had been parked along the street.
Natsu had passed the grand stone structure with its glorified dome plenty of times, though he avoided it when he could. But tonight, they had no choice.
They were going in.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Wakaba asked.
"You got a better one?" Romeo said.
"Just asking the question," Wakaba said. "You youngsters can get so feisty."
"What's the plan?" Romeo asked.
Natsu looked around. Plan? Right… He was in charge. He needed to come up with a plan. Except, he was so much better at improvising.
Wakaba fumbled for a cigarette.
"Wakaba, you're a genius!" Natsu grinned broadly, plucking the lit cigarette from the other man's hands.
"I guess? What are you doing?" Wakaba said, scratching his beard.
Natsu cast a glance over his shoulder before darting toward the line of police automobiles. He crouched behind one of them. He unscrewed the gas cap, the textured aluminum rough against his fingers.
He shoved the lit cigarette into the tank. Natsu scrambled backwards, waiting for the blast of flame.
Nothing happened.
"Rats!"
"Here, Boss." Romeo handed him wad of newsprint – a tattered copy of the Magnolia Times that he probably rescued from one of the sidewalk garbage cans and rolled up.
"That's perfect!" Natsu unrolled the paper, handling it just enough to crunch it into a suitable shape.
With a little careful angling, Natsu blocked the wind with his back. He flipped back the lid of his lighter. Yellow flames caressed the newsprint, spreading along the edges. The stench of ash hung on the air as the paper blackened.
"This'll get us all fired up!" He shoved the roll of lit newspaper into the gas tank of the police car.
Whoomph! The air crackled as fire surged from the open gas tank.
Natsu shooed his subordinates toward the building, keeping to the shadows that clung to the police station.
"Do you think they heard us?" Wakaba asked.
A roar like thunder echoed as the car burst into flames.
"They definitely heard that," Romeo said.
The station came alive as the night-shift officer rushed to see what was happening. Even from around the corner, Natsu heard the shouting and confusion that unfolded in front of Police HQ.
Natsu herded them towards the back.
"What now?" Romeo asked.
"We find a way inside," Natsu said. He spotted what might have been an open window, but it was too high to comfortably reach. "Gimme a boost."
Romeo cupped his hands together, giving Natsu the extra inches he needed to hoist himself up and peek inside.
Natsu could see rows of desks, all of them empty. The few coppers on duty must have been off trying to get a handle on the fire.
"See anything?" Romeo groaned. "How much longer?"
"Just a sec." Natsu adjusted his grip on the sill and climbed inside. He extended a hand to pull Romeo up as well.
"You're next," he called down to Wakaba.
Wakaba shook his head. "Someone's got to play lookout. You kids have fun."
"If things go south, get outta here," Natsu said.
"You don't have to tell me twice," Wakaba said.
They needed to hurry. It wouldn't take much to get the fire under control.
Natsu been brought in for questioning once, so he knew the cell block was in the basement.
The stairwell echoed worse than the underground speakeasy tunnels. Every movement sounded like it was being repeated by a crowd of hundreds. Natsu slowed down, trying to muffle his too-loud breathing. He tiptoed toward the cells.
Time slowed to a crawl.
The door to the cells was secured by a sturdy-looking lock. Even Gray would have had a hard time with this one, and Natsu didn't have his patience.
Maybe the answer wasn't to be more like Gray, but more like Cana.
Natsu reached for his piece, ignoring Romeo's protest as he took aim at the lock.
In the silence, the shot sounded more like a cannon. If they hadn't been detected, they would be soon.
Natsu shivered. This was the last place anyone wanted to end up. Too late to turn back now, he thought.
"Do you know where your dad is?" Natsu shouldered the door open.
Flickering electric bulbs dotted the hall ceiling, but left the cells mostly darkened. The stench of sweat and must hung in the air.
"I didn't get a chance to ask when the copper arrested him. Too busy running."
"All right, no need to be sarcastic. Guess we check them all."
Good thing there weren't many. Cells lined both side of a hall that made a full loop around the room. Each was separated by stone walls barred by steel in front.
Natsu bowed his head, holding his hat down and hoping it would partly conceal his face. Most of the people were petty criminals that didn't warrant transfer to a higher-security facility, but he still didn't need any of these jailbirds fingering him in hopes of getting out for good behavior. If he'd thought this through, he would have brought a handkerchief. It would have hidden his face and given him something to breathe through.
Too late now.
Natsu sprinted down the hall, checking each cell.
Empty. Empty. Empty. Crazy person rattling the bars. Empty.
There was shouting coming down the hall behind them. Was someone coming? Natsu picked up his pace.
Empty. Too fat. Too old. Empty. Empty. Empty.
They arrived back at the beginning.
Macao wasn't here.
So Natsu mounted his rescue a full day after Macao had been nabbed... hours after Laxus beat him to it. If you can call that a rescue, that is... Does Laxus wheeling and dealing actually count as a rescue?
I think writing one of Laxus' inner villain voice is one of my favorite things. Basically finding subtle (or not so subtle) ways to be snide and insult Natsu, Makarov, and the other heroes. He gets progressively worse throughout.
On the other hand, Natsu improves over the course of the story. Hopefully you don't find him too scatterbrained or insufferable. If so, bear with me - I really wanted to give him a journey. It's hard to go from being part of the group to leading the group, even if you're naturally predisposed to it.
Next time, in The Godfather's Heir, Natsu and his crew beat a hasty retreat as the coppers close in.
Stop back for the next installment, or just follow me, Karine of R011ingThunder.