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After years together, Lucy liked to think she knew Natsu quite well.
She had prided herself on it. I sure know a lot more about him than the likes of you ever could! She told Dimaria. Natsu has no hidden sides … I believe that in my heart of hearts. It had been easy to believe when sitting on the cold floor of a dingy cellar, surrounded by people who barely knew Natsu at all. They accused him of being a demon and her of being biased because of certain feelings, which was simply absurd.
The part about Natsu being a demon, that is.
She had been proven wrong almost immediately afterward. It hurt to find out she knew close to nothing about Natsu and his origins. The fact that no one else knew either only soothed a bit, because after years together and one apart, Lucy had liked to think she knew Natsu quite well.
In contrast with the stifling air in the cabin, the cool ocean breeze felt heavenly on her cheeks. Lucy leaned her elbows on the ship’s railing and inhaled deeply, relishing the light taste of salt on her tongue. The stars looked exceptionally beautiful tonight.
They were en route to the guild after fighting Selene in Elentir. Lucy had a feeling that the fighting was far from over, that she should rest and restore her energy, but sleep did not come easily. The return from Elentir had been smooth, and Touka had teleported them back to Earthland without interruptions. But, despite the subsequent battle against Mimi and the Hands, Lucy’s thoughts kept gravitating toward the short time spent in Edolas.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Lucy started at the sudden question. She turned her head to look at Erza, who walked up beside her and mimicked her pose to overlook the ocean.
“You scared me for a minute!” Lucy forced her tone to remain airy. “It’s unlike you to sneak up on someone like that.”
Erza smiled. “Not off the battlefield, at least,” she said. “I suppose it’s because of the armor. Makes it hard to be discreet. Still, I wouldn’t trade it for anything— not even Knightwalker’s maid uniform, which was adorable …” The last part she mumbled to herself.
Lucy nodded listlessly and hoped Erza would change the subject.
“Speaking of counterparts,” Erza proceeded, suggestively nudging Lucy with her elbow, “what a shock it was to meet yours, huh? To think that Edo-Lucy and Edo-Natsu would have a daughter! But then again, they are seven years ahead of you …”
Ah, there it was.
In truth, the case of their counterparts bothered Lucy. Returning to Edolas had been like visiting an alternate reality in which no world-ending, magical calamity lurked around the corner. The prospect of living a peaceful life with a Natsu who never had and never would abandon her … seemed strangely appealing.
Lucy smiled wanly as Erza guffawed and slapped her back with a force that nearly toppled her over. “I was surprised when Edo-Lucy said Natsu came onto her, as she always was the bold one of the two! Then again, I suppose that has nothing to do with it … for someone as bold as our Natsu, he seems strangely reluctant to make a move, huh?”
The smile slid off Lucy’s face. Erza might as well have thrown her overboard; it felt like she was doused with cold water.
But the domestic bliss of Edolas was as unattainable as it was appealing.
Natsu was always on the move, always running. He avoided all opportunities to change their relationship, and for every moment he dodged, Lucy was left wondering if there had even been a moment at all.
It was ironic how Edo-Natsu was considered the coward of the two, Lucy mused, when he at least had the guts to stay and pursue what he wanted.
Erza’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. It dawned on Lucy that she had said that out loud. She sputtered, “ah! I mean— he’s not— that’s not— that wasn’t what I—“ She hid her burning face in her hands and groaned in defeat.
A couple of moments passed in heavy silence.
“Uh … if you elaborated on that … maybe,” Erza said awkwardly, clearing her throat, “I could help, somehow? I never imagined we would have this conversation, but …”
That was probably because Lucy would prefer walking the plank to telling anyone ever how she felt about Natsu, but Erza’s earnest attempt at helping made drowning seem like an ungrateful option.
“Well,” she began, “lately I’ve just been a bit … confused about Natsu, I guess?”
Erza motioned for her to elaborate.
“It probably sounds stupid, but it’s just— I always thought of Natsu as an open book,” Lucy said. “On the rare occasion he tried hiding how he felt about anything, I figured him out with ease. Not that I could ever read him as easily as he read me …” she laughed self-consciously and turned her gaze back at the ocean. The stars, reflected in the water, suddenly seemed to mock her.
“You’re using past tense?” Erza questioned.
Lucy shrugged. “It’s not that he’s never honest with me anymore, because he is … about most things, at least.” She pushed away thoughts of Zeref and E.N.D. “I know what he hates and what he loves. Sometimes, it feels like I know him better than I know myself; like he’s more myself than I am, you know? Yet,” she wavered, the words catching in her throat, “the one thing I can’t seem to figure out …”
“… is how he feels about you,” Erza concluded quietly.
Lucy swallowed thickly, nodding. “I mean, I know he considers me one of his closest friends. I know he cares about me …” Her vision blurred. She rubbed furiously at her eyes in a simultaneous attempt to dispel her thoughts.
He cared for her, was that not enough? Why did the notion of friends and caring leave such a bitter taste behind? Was she so greedy that she had to demand of him what he could not give, even at the expense of their friendship: all or nothing?
When had it gotten to this point?
Although Erza remained silent, Lucy felt the weight of her concerned gaze. She inhaled and exhaled slowly through her mouth and nose to ground herself. When she spoke again, her voice was stronger:
“I just can’t figure out if his feelings end at friendship,” she said. “Mine did, for ages, evolving so subtly that I hardly even realized they were there until they just … sprung at me, I guess.” She pointed out at the water surrounding them. “It’s like, I was swimming in the shallows near the beach, but now I’m out at sea, struggling to keep afloat. I have no idea how I got here, or how to get back into the shallows and meet him on the shore. It terrifies me.”
Erza bit her bottom lip, deep in thought. “Are you sure he’s waiting by the shore? What if he’s— uh— also swimming—“ She struggled for a moment, finally waving it off. “How do you know he doesn’t feel the same as you do?”
Lucy frowned at the brine. “I guess I don’t,” she said. “But at this rate, I’m not sure I’ll ever find out.”
She was used to getting her hopes up only to be let down. It was partly due to her vivid imagination - being an avid reader/writer of melodramatic romance did not help - but Natsu’s frustratingly ambiguous nature was also to blame. One moment, he would be so sweet Lucy could almost convince herself her feelings weren’t one-sided; the next, he would say or do something to change her mind.
The morning after the Kemu Zaleon-awards ceremony was the most prevalent example.
Lucy had never claimed to have an impressive rein of her emotions, but she still could not fathom how she let herself get so caught up in the moment. Maybe the alcohol had yet to leave her system, maybe the time spent around Natsu had incinerated her brain cells; the point was that she literally threw herself at him, and he ran away. The opportunity was there for his taking, and he, predictably, let it slip.
But relaying that to Erza was not an option. The whole ordeal had been humiliating, and Lucy’s only consolation was that Natsu had not mentioned it since.
“I’ve tried to confront him,” she said instead, “but it’s like he’s running from me. When we met our counterparts in Edolas and found out they had a daughter, he didn’t seem to care at all. Who knows,” she sighed in resignation, “as a mirroring of us, Edo-Lucy and Edo-Natsu being married might be a sign that Natsu and I are fated to just stay friends.”
“Don’t let Natsu hear you talking about fate,” said Erza consequentially. “You know he doesn’t believe in it. Also, I think you’re wrong. The inhabitants of Edolas are our opposites in appearance, but their hearts are similar to ours. Edo-Gray and Edo-Juvia had their happy ending, Knightwalker was redeemed, and Edolas’ Fairy Tail proved to have the same essence as the one we know.
“Fairy Tail teaches us that while our past shapes us, it does not define us. Second chances are important because people can develop and change for the better. It is a lesson many still struggle to learn.”
Erza’s eyes grew wistful as she gazed at the waves, and Lucy knew that, at that moment, she was thinking of neither her nor Natsu.
“You, me, and even Gray learned that lesson long ago,” Erza resumed after a while. “And I think Natsu did too, but he forgets it also applies to himself.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Lucy.
Erza turned to look at her again.
“Though no one runs without reason, running is not always reasonable,” she said, her voice soft, rich, all-encompassing. The starlight made her look almost ethereal.
“That’s why it’s so important to have people around who are willing to try catching up. Someone who knows who you are and still loves you.”
Erza’s speech enabled Lucy to seek out Gray next.
Under the surface of fire and ice, Natsu and Gray were surprisingly alike. Lucy personally thought that was the real reason behind their rivalry.
“You’re wrong,” Gray shot down her hypothesis.
They were riding a carriage heading inland, where they planned to spend the night at an inn and resume their journey after sunrise. The grassy plains around them were lit up in orange by the last rays of the setting sun. Golden hour.
Lucy had volunteered to sit at the front of the carriage with Gray, who was steering, which left Erza inside with the two sickly dragon slayers. Earlier, two dull thuds led Lucy to believe she had knocked them out.
“You’re wrong,” Gray continued, “we’re rivals ‘cause Natsu’s an impulsive idiot with hot air for brains. That’s all there is to it.”
Lucy giggled at his sullen expression. “You really hate being compared to Natsu, huh?”
“It’s the greatest insult there is,” Gray agreed. “I’m much better at keeping my cool. And he’s always so self-righteous about everything, it’s annoying. But,” he added, “if there’s one thing we do have in common, I guess it would be valuing our privacy.”
“By keeping secrets, you mean,” said Lucy drily. Natsu certainly didn’t value her privacy, breaking into her apartment day and night.
Gray shrugged lightly, which Lucy interpreted as I guess.
“I don’t get it, though,” she said before she could stop herself. “Why would you want to keep secrets from your friends?”
“You mean, why would Natsu want to keep secrets from you?” Gray side-eyed her knowingly. “Well, it’s not like you’re being honest with him either, are you? You’re not exactly subtle.”
Lucy gaped at him, heat rushing to her cheeks. She should have known he would know. Like Natsu, he could be surprisingly perceptive.
Gray discerned he was right by her expression. He redirected his attention to the road, sparing her a reply.
“… hm. With Natsu, it’s not like his secrets were the harmless kind,” he said after a while. “His connection to Zeref, being E.N.D … I think it was news to him as well, but he must’ve been suspecting it for a while. I mean, having a demon inside of him, so much power just waiting to be unleashed … he’d have felt it, somehow.” He glanced at the tattoo covering his forearm. “I get why he didn’t tell me at least. Y’know, fated nemesis and all.”
Lucy’s stomach tightened at the way his eyes saddened. It wasn’t like Natsu had been the only one who had been suspecting something. After Animus, Lucy at least conceived something was going on.
“As for why he didn’t tell you,” Gray went on, “I may have known him for longer, but you’ve gotten closer to him than anyone else has. It makes sense why he’d want to hide from you, you see?”
Lucy shook her head. “It sounds contradictory.”
“Maybe it is,” said Gray. “But the people who are closest to us have the biggest sway in our decision-making. That’s troublesome when we’ve already made up our minds. I think Natsu might’ve wanted to keep you from, ah … stopping him.”
The unsaid answer to stopping him from what? made Lucy’s blood run cold.
A few somber moments passed in which they silently reminisced about fighting dragons, demons, and creators of cursed books.
When Lucy spoke again, her voice was meek. “But running without saying goodbye is cowardly,” she said. Her mind wandered to a small envelope on her coffee table. “And selfish.”
Gray nodded. “Especially coming from Natsu We-Live-For-Our-Friends Dragneel. But it’s not like I can blame him,” he said. “I’ve done the same thing. When I cast Iced Shell, I didn’t want anyone to stop me either.”
“But Natsu stopped you.”
“I know.” Gray smiled slightly. “For a person with such strong morals, Natsu’s surprisingly hypocritical and secretive. But I get him sometimes.”
He paused. Then, “back when Juvia and I fought Invel, he gave us an ultimatum: if one was to live, the other had to die.”
Lucy eyed his hand, with which he absentmindedly traced a scar on his abdomen. Gray had never talked about that battle or the fight that followed.
“As members of Fairy Tail, we learn that the value of one life can’t be measured against another,” he said. “But all I knew was that, to me, losing her was infinitely scarier than losing myself. When I thought she died, everything just collapsed. I hated myself for not protecting her. I felt like I could never care about anything or anyone ever again.”
Lucy winced. “That sounds like an unhealthy amount of co-dependence,” she joked in a feeble attempt to lighten the mood.
“Nah— that’s love,” Gray stated with confidence. “The irony was that, even then, reciprocating her love seemed impossible. I convinced myself it’d only be a burden on us both.”
Lucy’s face fell. She felt guilt churning in her stomach; greedy, what he could not give, all or nothing?
Noticing her change in demeanor, Gray placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I was stupid to think that,” he said decisively. "When Juvia caught up with me, I realized that being loved so unconditionally despite my faults and inadequacies could never be a burden. It’s a gift. It’s more than anyone deserves and it’s exactly what everyone needs.”
Lucy looked into the sincere, deep blue of Gray’s eyes. She discerned the set line of his mouth and the comforting weight of his hand on her arm.
“You know,” she said, “you’ve grown to be very wise, actually.”
It was hard to tell if the sudden color in Gray’s cheeks was due to the last rays of sunlight.
He smirked. “Yet another thing Natsu and I don’t have in common.”
It could have been him, Lucy realized. Once, it had been the most probable outcome. In a parallel universe, maybe she was discussing Gray with Natsu instead of the other way around.
… or maybe not. They had visited a parallel universe not too long ago.
“I wonder how the Edolas-version of you and Juvia got together,” she thought out loud.
Gray grimaced. “I’m not so sure I want to know,” he said. “Seeing myself married with children was, uh … freaky. I’m glad Juvia wasn’t around to witness it, at least. I’m not ready to settle down yet.”
“Aw, too bad!” Lucy nudged his shoulder. “I bet Erza would love a wedding to plan and some children to babysit.”
“She should go ahead and do it herself,” said Gray petulantly. “Unfortunately, she’s as clueless about love as the rest of us. Though Natsu is inarguably the worst— why’d you choose to fall for him of all people?”
Lucy didn’t feel like reiterating the ocean metaphor. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she lied, her thoughts drifting to old scrapbooks and ideals of Mr. Right. “Brr, it sure is getting chilly out here, huh?”
Gray deadpanned at her as she feigned a shiver.
“It’s June.”
“You’re an ice wizard, you wouldn’t understand.”
She ignored his accusing gaze as she left him to steer the carriage by himself.
The sun had disappeared behind the mountains when the carriage arrived at the inn. The first stars in the night sky greeted Lucy as she stepped onto solid ground.
“Ah! Here at last,” Erza proclaimed as she nonchalantly exited the carriage. The silhouettes inside did not appear to be moving.
After peering into the carriage, Gray arrived at the same conclusion. “Huh … looks like we’ll have to carry Natsu and Wendy inside.
“Lucy, you’ll take Natsu,” said Gray and Erza in unison. They looked briefly at each other, then back at Lucy.
A wicked grin spread across Gray’s face. “You heard the Lady.”
Lucy contemplated the pros of leaving Natsu, Gray, Erza, Wendy, and the inn, behind. She could find refuge in the Celestial Spirit-realm for a few weeks, then return once everyone in Earthland had grown old and senile and forgotten about her and Natsu altogether …
While she was lost in thought, the others were already moving.
“Lucy,” Erza called from the inn’s entrance, “grab Natsu and meet us in the lobby! We’re going to sort out the rooms.”
Several warning bells went off in Lucy’s head at the idea of Erza being in charge of sleeping arrangements, but the aforementioned had already disappeared into the lobby with Gray and Wendy in tow.
Lucy looked at Natsu, still out cold, and pursed her lips.
She grabbed him by the wrist and dragged his sleeping form from the carriage. Her heart rate escalated (why did he always smell so good? What was it, woodsmoke? When did that become so insanely attractive? Maybe her brain cells had been incinerated) as she tried to maneuver his arm over her shoulder. Years ago, she had carried him on her back while running. Now she might as well have been shouldering a block of cement.
And he had the audacity to call her heavy!
Once stepping onto a surface not carried by wheels, Natsu miraculously stirred. He mumbled a vague g’mornin’, looked around groggily, and perked up when he saw the inn.
“Hey! We stopped moving!”
Lucy nodded frantically and dragged him towards the entrance before he could fall to his knees and kiss the ground. Natsu followed her into the lobby with a spring in his step, all remnants of sleep gone.
They joined the rest of the team just as Erza returned from the counter.
She glared at them. “What took you so long?”
When Lucy started replying that she was the one who assigned her to fetch Natsu, Erza waved her off. “Never mind. I booked the rooms while you were gone. Some of us will have to share, but that’s to be expected. Wendy, you’re with me, Lucy’s with Natsu, and Gray gets his own room. Deal?”
“Sounds fine to me,” Gray promptly replied.
Lucy nodded along with Natsu and Wendy before realizing that sharing a room with Natsu also meant having to spend several hours alone with him.
“Hold on,” she protested. “Doesn’t it make more sense for Natsu and Gray to share a room? They’re both guys—“
They all instinctively took a step back as Erza’s expression darkened. “Are you questioning my ability to assign rooms?”
Yes! I have the creeping suspicion you’re scheming, Lucy, fearful of Erza’s wrath, neglected to reply.
Gray intervened. “Don’t be stupid,” he said placidly. “If me and ol’ Firebreath here share a room, we’ll just wreck the place. We’d have no money left for traveling if we used it all on restoration fees, see?”
Lucy was torn between being impressed by Gray’s self-awareness and being pissed at him and Erza for meddling.
In a last-ditch attempt to spare her poor heart a great deal of stress, she pointed at Natsu with an accusing finger.
“I can’t sleep if he’s there,” she lamented. “I need my beauty sleep and he snores!”
“C’mon Luce, don’t be like that,” Natsu laughed as he threw an arm over her shoulder. Lucy stiffened at their sudden proximity. “I sleep in your bed all the time back at home!”
“Without my consent,” Lucy hurriedly added as Erza quirked a brow.
Nevertheless, she knew the battle was lost. She could never stay mad at Natsu for long. (Whenever he smiled, a dimple appeared on his left cheek.)
They advanced to their rooms without further disruptions. As Lucy gingerly placed her hand on the doorknob, she was seized by panic; a sudden dread of being at the point of no return.
When she looked at Erza and Gray, they respectively sent her a thumbs-up and a suggestive wink.
Great.
The room was small but well-decorated. One door led to a bathroom and another to a balcony, from which there was a lovely view of the town.
Upon entering, Natsu flung himself onto the bed and scattered the neatly-made sheets. Lucy hovered awkwardly in the doorway.
Natsu regarded her with a queer look. “Aren’t you coming to bed?”
Lucy’s cheeks flamed as she tried and failed not to think of the implications of that sentence. While the fact that there was only one bed did not surprise her - Erza was also an avid reader of melodramatic romance - the fear of calamity lingered. She feared opening her mouth or moving a muscle, lest she said or did something stupid.
Being so self-conscious around Natsu was … unsettling. Unfamiliar.
She hesitantly entered the room and threw her bag on the bed.
When Natsu reached for it, she instinctively rapped him over the fingers. “Hands off!”
“I was just gonna see if you had any food,” he said ruefully.
“I don’t.”
“But m’hungry …”
Lucy shook her head at his whining, but she was secretly relieved. Though her cheeks were still hot and her heart was still pounding, she found herself capable of dealing with their usual banter. It was predictable.
“Don’t care, I’m too tired to get you any food right now.” She rummaged through her back for a change of clothes to bring with her to the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower.”
“Aw, Luce, you’re being cruel!” Natsu called after her. “How come you’re never too tired for that?”
Lucy closed the door in lieu of an answer. When she looked into the mirror over the sink, her pink-cheeked reflection smiled softly back at her before furrowing her brows.
Talking to Erza and Gray had drawn her attention to her alarming transparency.
Contrary to popular belief, Natsu was not stupid. He put up a front of being oblivious, but that was mostly an act. If she carried on looking and acting like a love-struck fool, it would not matter what she did or did not say. He would find out regardless.
“Get a grip,” she reproached herself.
She directed her focus to the bathtub, turned the faucet to near-scalding, and stepped in.
Worrying was pointless. She and Natsu could not stay as they were forever. Their friendship would either crash and burn or slowly suffocate by all left unsaid.
Lucy groaned.
While traveling and fighting tired her out, the weight of her thoughts was infinitely more exhausting. She willed some of them to wash down the drain with the water.
After drying and clothing herself, she reentered the bedroom to find Natsu staring at her.
She flinched. “What?”
“You’re wearing clothes,” he said.
Lucy was confused by the tone of disappointment in that statement. She looked at herself. Her pajamas were nothing special, but he usually didn’t care a whit what she wore. “Uh— yeah?”
“I expected you to forget your clothes and come out wearing a towel or something,” Natsu sighed.
Lucy eyed him skeptically. “And?”
“Dunno. The view would’ve been nice I guess,” he said, swiftly dodging Lucy’s towel as she threw it after him.
“Don’t say things like that,” she huffed, cheeks coloring. Don’t say things like that, don’t make it sound like you’re …
He grinned. “Relax, I’m kidding. You’ve been so uptight lately.”
“Not being comfortable with flaunting my body in a towel makes me uptight?” Lucy deadpanned. “Sounds like you have ulterior motives.”
“How can you not be comfortable with flaunting your body, you’re half-naked all the time—“
“Non-consensually! I’ve told you my clothes always end up ruined somehow!”
“S’ not like there’s a lot of clothes to ruin in the first place,” Natsu shrugged, this time dodging a flying pillow. “And that’s not what I meant anyway. Maybe uptight isn’t the right word, it’s— lately, you’ve been … jumpy.”
“Jumpy?”
“Yeah, jumpy,” Natsu reiterated, reaching out to grab her wrist. His touch felt like static, and Lucy flinched out of his grip. “Like that. Whenever I touch you, you get all weird about it.”
She had been right in worrying he would notice.
Weird, was how he described her flustered state. That observation was oddly upsetting to her.
“That’s not true,” she lied through her teeth. “I’m just surprised when you touch me without warning. That’s not weird.”
Natsu didn’t answer right away. His dark eyes were trained on her, and Lucy fought the urge to look away. His gaze always felt invasive, as if he somehow was looking straight through her.
“Touch me, then,” he said at last.
Lucy felt her mouth go dry. What?
“What?”
“Come over here and touch me.” Natsu looked amused. He placed his hands behind his head on the pillow, relaxed as ever. “Like, gimme a hug. We’ve known each other for years. S’ not a big deal, right?”
“Right,” Lucy said slowly. “Right, just …”
She tentatively stepped closer to him. It was like he was testing her. But he was right, it shouldn’t be a big deal. They had shared plenty of hugs. Friends did that.
Except things had been different lately. Lately, he would do nothing but exist, and her heart would be on the verge of bursting. Being within his general vicinity felt impossible.
Natsu’s eyes glimmered with mirth as Lucy awkwardly inched closer. It was like he enjoyed watching her squirm; she would have ripped him a new one for that, had she not currently been such a nervous wreck.
“Don’t be shy,” he said, his tone almost condescending. Lucy was ready to bust his head open until he continued, “what’re you so scared of? It’s not like we’re about to kiss or anything.”
It felt like being struck by lightning.
The revelation, sharp like a flash, slowed everything to a halt.
One, two, three … then came the thunderclap:
Natsu knew.
The borderline flirting, the suspicion of being tested … the morning before embarking on the Quest, alarming transparency, surprisingly perceptive, running, coward …
He knew how she felt, and he would do anything to avoid confronting it.
“Who’s the cruel one now?” Her voice was cold.
Natsu looked confused by her altered attitude.
His laugh as he rose from the bed came out as more of a huff. “What?”
Lucy shook her head in disbelief. Surprisingly hypocritical, Gray had called him, and he was. Like a coward, he hid; like a coward, he fled.
She had felt sick with guilt from harboring such bitterness towards him. Indeed, she could not blame him for not feeling what she felt. But Natsu continually dismissing her feelings, only to end up playing them off as a joke … that wasn’t fair.
She entertained the idea of feigning ignorance. She would say goodnight, and they would go to sleep and pretend nothing had changed.
Only everything had changed. A Natsu in the know was a Natsu unknown. If she turned away from him now, would he remain a stranger to her?
If so, turning away was never an option.
Lucy drew in a shaky breath as she painstakingly met his gaze. The fear in his eyes mirrored that in her own.
The collision was unavoidable. She braced for impact.
“I’ve felt at a loss lately,” she said. “About you, about these— feelings I have for you—“
She felt light-headed. Could he hear her heart pounding? There seemed to be scarcely any oxygen left in the room. She wrestled the urge to throw open the doors to the balcony; to jump or to breathe in the night air, she did not know.
“These feelings scare me,” she pushed on. “I think, possibly, you’d like me to forgo them. I think it would be easier on us both if I did.
“But it feels like they’re stuck halfway up my throat, and I have to know whether you feel the same way. I won’t let you run this time. You can’t keep leaving and still expect me to be faithfully waiting for your return. Say something, please, or I’ll …” A deep inhale. “… somehow, I’ll have to give up on you.”
Natsu stood like a deer in headlights. He had not moved when she spoke, but now he opened his mouth, and Lucy steeled herself. No sound came out.
He swallowed and licked his lips. “Give up on me … for what?”
Lucy had an untimely flashback to presenting her novel to a publisher for the first time. Giving someone else the freedom to interpret her thoughts and feelings had been terrifying. Like placing her heart into their hands.
Rejection, direct or indirect, was heartbreak.
Lucy lacked the strength to stop the tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Don’t do that,” she cried. “Don’t just act like you don’t know— I know you’re not as oblivious as you want everyone to think, you—!” She slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a heaving sob.
“Lucy, please …“ Natsu reached for her. When she flinched away from him, his expression changed into one of dejection. He stepped back, gaze downcast. A muscle jumped in his jaw. He seemed on edge.
“I can’t,” he said.
Lucy’s heart sank in her chest. “What?”
“I can’t feel that way for you.”
“What do you mean, you can’t? You either do or you don’t, it’s that simple.“
“No, it’s anything but simple!” Natsu exclaimed. “To me, you’re— we’ve been friends for so long, I can’t …“
Lucy’s heart had sunk to her stomach at that point, leaving her chest cold and empty. “You don’t feel the same.”
“That’s not it!” Natsu growled in frustration. Contrasting with her, he was all fire and brimstone, and when their eyes met, his burned with something she did not recognize. “We’ve been friends for so long, and every time I think we could be more, I remember what happened in the war against my— when you—“ He swallowed, overwhelmed by emotion. “When I couldn’t protect you,” he said instead. “It terrifies me.”
Lucy crossed her arms. “You don’t think I can protect myself?”
Though her voice was hard, something within her trembled. She had never loved fighting, and she knew she was not as strong as her comrades, but she had other valuable attributes, and she fought when she needed to. Had she not proven that she could save herself? Had she not saved the Guild?
After everything they had been through, did Natsu still consider her a burden?
“No!” He protested immediately as if reading her thoughts. “You don’t understand—“
“Then help me understand!” Lucy’s voice increased in volume, nearing a shout. She wondered whether the room was soundproof. Erza and Gray probably had their ears glued to the door by now.
Natsu ran a hand through his hair, and, for the first time Lucy could remember, he was averting her gaze. She willed herself to remain patient as he shifted uneasily.
“I’m no good with change,” he said eventually. “If things changed between us, I wouldn’t know what to do. If I said or did something to hurt you, I’d never forgive myself.”
I hated myself for not protecting her, Gray’s voice fitted through Lucy’s head.
“When Igneel left, I realized how important it is to have something to come home to. Something safe, something constant. And then …” He faltered. “Then I went training for a year.”
“With no warning,” Lucy added wryly. “You left me— everyone, with only a note as a goodbye. But you just had to leave, didn’t you?”
“Yes!” Natsu proclaimed. When Lucy rolled her eyes, he persisted, “I did! I never wanted to leave you, the Guild, my home, but after everything— Lucy, I didn’t have a choice.” He gestured despondently. “I was fine with not knowing where I came from because at least I knew who I was. Then I didn’t even know that anymore.
“Igneel left me with more questions than answers. I knew the magic he left me was dangerous if placed in the wrong hands, but I didn’t know if my hands were the wrong ones.”
His voice broke, and with it, part of Lucy’s heart. Ignia, Dimaria, Animus; Lucy, who do I look like to you?
“I know you can protect yourself,” Natsu said earnestly. “But I’m not sure I can protect you from me. It’s safer to sacrifice my content for your eventual happiness.”
When he looked up to meet her gaze head-on, Lucy felt something between them connect and slide into place; like clues and pictures on an apartment wall in a big, foreign city.
“I never thought I’d do that for anyone, but you’ve always been different to me than everyone else. Tell me, what am I supposed to do with that?”
Lucy had no answer. She had no words at all.
Natsu gave her a long look, but when she remained silent, he turned on his heel and strode to the door. When he ripped it open, Erza and Gray, who evidently had been listening with their ears glued to the door, tumbled into the room. Natsu paid them no mind as he stormed out of sight.
They all stared gapingly after him.
“Uh,” said Gray, redirecting his attention to Lucy.
“We can explain,” Erza began.
Lucy wanted an explanation more than anything, but not from them. She was speechless; even after laying all cards on the table, Natsu still tried to run away.
She would not let him.
Stepping over Erza and Gray, still floundering in a heap on the floor, she peeked into the hallway. Natsu was nowhere to be seen. He was a lot faster than her, and if she failed to catch up with him, she might never get another chance.
She could feel the moonbeams on her back, illuminating the room in pale blue. She turned her head, saw the stars twinkling mischievously from above the balcony, and made a swift decision.
She walked past Erza and Gray, past the bed and the bathroom, and through the door to the balcony. The evening breeze played with stray locks of her hair. She climbed onto the railing and closed her eyes. Then she stepped into mid-air.
Natsu could be capricious. He was brash and temperamental and impulsive to the point of being reckless, but even though Lucy was reluctant to place her heart in his hands, she trusted him with her life.
She knew that whenever he could not keep her from falling, he would ensure she never hit the ground.
The air rushing in her ears was disrupted by a heavy oof. When reopening her eyes, she found Natsu’s astonished face inches from her own.
“Are you insane?!” He asked incredulously.
“No, I’m pissed.” Lucy shifted onto her hands and knees, caging him in where he lay beneath her on the ground. “Why is it that, even when you’re being a coward, you have to play the hero? What good is sacrificing your content for my happiness, if it leaves me neither content nor happy?”
Natsu stared at her in bewilderment. “But when you didn’t say anything, I thought—“
“Well, don’t,” Lucy said, lips quirking. “Thinking doesn’t suit you.” Then, before she could overthink it, she pressed her lips to his.
As an avid reader/writer of melodramatic romance, Lucy was proficient in conjuring up first-kiss scenarios. As a little girl, she imagined falling in love with an aristocrat’s son or, despite Fiore’s lack thereof, a prince. As she grew older, the prince morphed into the wizards portrayed in Sorcerer Weekly; suave and popular.
Once upon a time, knowing that Natsu would never make that list was comforting. Then it was frustrating. And now, she realized, it didn’t matter. Even without candlelit dinners and flower arrangements, without sunsets and fireworks, he was everything she wanted.
(His mouth was warm and surprisingly soft).
After seconds, minutes, or eons, Natsu pulled away. Lucy forced herself to pry her eyes open and not chase his lips.
“Don’t freak out,” he said in a voice that was slightly husky and made her knees weak, “but I think we’re being watched.”
At that ominous statement, the pink cloud Lucy had been floating on dissipated. She whipped around to find Erza and Gray lurking from a window.
Lucy gasped. “Creeps!”
“We are not,” Erza protested vehemently. “You just threw yourself from the balcony, we wanted to check if you were okay!”
“Yeah, how were we supposed to know you’d be sucking face down here?” Gray pitched in. “Get a room!”
“We have a room,” Lucy retorted. “You’re standing in it!”
“Unbelievable.” Gray threw up his hands in exasperation. “We resolve years of tension and pining, and this is the thanks we get!”
At that, Erza shut the window, and they both disappeared behind the blinds.
“Uh,” said Natsu, “any idea what the Ice-princess was on about?”
Lucy smiled fondly up at the window. Despite their embarrassing meddling, she was grateful to have such caring and supportive friends.
“Not a clue,” she lied.
They stared at each other for a moment before they burst out laughing. Natsu beamed as he pulled her into an embrace, and although Lucy knew dawn to be hours away, she swore she could see the sun rising on the horizon.