demon thirst.

reluctantly in love [ minerva x sorano ]

Minerva shrugged off the attempt at an insult. The other woman would need to try a lot harder if she wanted to offend her.

Silence settled back down. Still as heavy and uncomfortable. But at least, now Minerva could see the small building where she lived. Even if she wouldn’t be able to get rid of Sorano that easily, it was a relief to know that soon enough, she would be home.

“I’m home,” she said before she could stop herself.

Surprisingly, Sorano didn’t comment, she simply followed her inside her apartment and went for the couch without any sort of hesitation or shame. That woman sure knew how to make herself at home anywhere, didn’t she? No wonder everyone at the guild had accepted her so easily. Then again, many of them had probably been influenced by her cleavage.

Minerva sat in the armchair, choosing to face Sorano rather than to be close to her again. The silence between them was still there, still palpable. And with them glaring at each other without saying a single word, the situation wouldn’t get better any time soon.

The light ring of a bell made them look away though.

A large black cat with a long coat of black fur had come through the window – the one that Minerva always left open for her cat, and not for Sorano to break into her place. It rubbed its head against Minerva’s leg before sitting by her feet, looking at Sorano curiously.

“Yours?” Sorano asked, and she leaned down, extending a hand towards the cat. “What’s its name?”

Minerva blinked. Name? She only ever called him ‘cat’. She hadn’t really considered giving him a name, had started to consider him as her pet only recently.

“Just… Cat,” Minerva finally answered, too embarrassed to make eye contact with Sorano. “He isn’t exactly friendly. Don’t expect him to—”

She didn’t have time to finish her sentence, Cat was already making his way towards Sorano. This had to be a joke. It had taken Minerva weeks of feeding him when she had first seen him all bony and miserable in the trash cans outside her apartment, for the evil little ball of fur to trust her and accept to be petted. And Sorano just invaded her personal space and he accepted her?

“Seems plenty friendly to me,” Sorano smirked, but her expression changed quickly with the cat jumping in her lap.

This really was a sick joke. Minerva watched, amused, as Sorano winced, small sharp claws digging into her skin as Cat made himself comfortable on her thighs. She was surprised that Sorano didn’t say anything, didn’t complain or try to push him away.

“Should I expect you to warm up to me like that?” Sorano questioned, smirk returning to her lips, bigger than ever. “Will you sit on my lap too?”

“I have higher standards than him.”

“But you’re dating me.”

Minerva rolled her eyes. There was no way she would survive two weeks of dating with that crazed woman.

“Do you really have to stay for the night?”

“I can’t go home after Yukino said we should spend more time together. I live with her. She’ll know. And then she’ll scold me for spending more time with my sister than my girlfriend.”

Minerva let out a small groan. She closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat, a useless attempt at trying to find some peace of mind. What she really needed was a distraction.

“What do you want for dinner?” she asked, already standing up.

“Dango*.”

Could she really not hurt Sorano? Even just a little?

“I’ll let you starve, then.”

“Yukino is always talking about how amazing your cooking is, so prepare whatever you want, I’m sure it’ll be good. And if it isn’t, I’ll complain to Yukino.”

“Complain about my cooking to anyone and I’m stranding you on the other side of the city.”

Sorano merely shrugged off the threat.

“You aren’t a very nice girlfriend, you know that?”

She was back to her usual whining. Minerva elected to ignore her and get to the kitchen. She was getting hungry, and it was better to focus on preparing dinner than on Sorano’s annoying self.

The loud voice that booms throughout the corridor makes the two of them jump, and Erza knows that the crowd that has been gathering around them is thinning out to avoid being caught in whatever mess is about to unfold.

Before Erza can even fully register Vice-Principal Clive’s presence or loosen her grip on Mirajane’s collar, he has a hand on her arm and is practically ripping her off Mirajane’s body. Before either of the girls can say anything, or take a breath, the man is dragging them away from the remaining of the crowd, which has fallen entirely silent in his mere presence.

“I’m tired of you two,” he says, not bothering to look at either of them, or to acknowledge that his painfully strong grip on their arms makes it complicated for them to follow him and keep up with his pace. “You were both supposed to be model students, and look at you, fighting for the third time this month alone. For no reason. ‘Getting on my nerves.”

“No reason?” Mirajane repeats, scoffing.

“Strauss keeps—”

The vice-principal gives Erza’s arm a squeeze; a silent warning to keep quiet because his patience for them is clearly running out and seems to have been for a while. So, Erza, who unlike Mirajane can get a hint and listen when she needs to, keeps her mouth shut.

He guides them to his office in complete silence, save for Mirajane mumbling under her breath, words that aren’t worth being repeated or even acknowledged. Erza is surprised that the vice-principal doesn’t comment on it or shuts her up – but by now he probably knows that trying to make Mirajane Strauss be quiet only makes her even more annoying and obnoxious than usual. Stupid delinquent who can’t ever get a hint.

Vice-Principal Clive only looks at the two of them when his office door is closed, and they are sitting down (if Mirajane sprawled over a chair can count as sitting).

“Are you girls planning on getting your act together before graduation? Or do you want to get expelled before getting a diploma?”

“I don’t give a shit.”

Erza watches as Clive raises an eyebrow at Mirajane’s answer. He doesn’t seem all that taken aback by her words though. It’s news to nobody in Magnolia High that Mirajane Strauss doesn’t ‘give a shit’ about anything that doesn’t directly concerns either of her siblings.

“You don’t ‘give a shit’ if you can’t get a proper job to pay for Elfman and Lisanna’s wellbeing?”

Mirajane tsks at the question and turns her face away from him. Probably realizing that he won’t get anything else from her, he turns his attention to Erza.

“What about you, Erza? Any smartass remark to make?”

Smartass. He probably is the only staff members, aside from Mr. Mine and Mr. Conbolt, who would use such language so freely around students, but it is one of the reasons why he is so popular and appreciated by everyone in school.

Erza shakes her head and hears Mirajane let out a bark of laughter.

“Mirajane,” the vice-principal warns, “please abstain from provoking your comrade.”

“She isn’t my comrade.”

The vice-principal clasps his hands together loudly, startling both girls, but he still looks as calm and unaffected as usual as he intertwines his fingers.

“We’ve all been too indulgent with the both of you,” he starts to explain, sounding very much done with the situation. “Me in particular. I was hoping you’d get a grip but it’s only getting worse. So, I’ve been thinking of appropriate sanctions for you two.”

Erza only nods. From the corner of her eyes, she can see Mirajane crossing her arms and sliding further down into her chair.

“No club activities for a month.”

Erza gasps, glancing between Vice-Principal Clive and a smirking Mirajane – she has never joined a club, so it doesn’t affect her the slightest bit, Erza, on the other hand, is captain of the kendo team of the school.

“And a week of detention. Three bonus hours on Saturday for you, Mirajane.” He is smiling like he isn’t about to ruin their social lives.

“Why only me on Saturday?!”

“Dress code,” he answers simply, and, before Mirajane can voice her outrage, he pulls out a piece of paper from the inner pocket of his jacket. “Rolled up skirt. Shirt not buttoned properly. Multiple ear piercings. Leather collar. Skull rings. Demonic-looking bracelet. Poorly concealed nose ring. This is a list given to me by a friend of yours from the disciplinary committee. And it’s just the past week.”

“Fucking Jenny,” Mirajane mutters under her breath, but Erza still hears it.

The vice-principal fixes Mirajane with a look that clearly indicates that he heard exactly what she said, but he apparently prefers not to point it out aloud, maybe because Mirajane’s case is already bad enough as it is.

“Starting Monday, you’ll be staying at school two hours after classes. If things go well and you can cooperate, it will only last a week. If not, you’ll get a second week. If there’s still problems by then, I’ll be sending you to Principal Makarov.”

When Erza looks at Mirajane, she is glaring a hole into Vice-Principal Clive’s skull, but the man doesn’t bother acknowledging the harsh stare sent his way.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my daughter because she’s apparently giving Mirajane and Gray a run for the title of most inappropriate uniform of the year. So, you’re dismissed. Get out of my sight, stubborn delinquents.”

__

 First day of detention and Mirajane already wants to strangle Erza. Or at least kick her chair so she’ll fall and land on her stupid ass. There are a lot of things in life that she hates, but among all those things, Erza just takes the crown and the fucking cake.

Tik. Tik. Tik.

Erza is clicking her pen in the most obnoxious of manners, and even from the other side of the room, it’s driving Mirajane crazy to hear the sound over and over again. It’s loud and it doesn’t stop, and it’s been going on for seven minutes now – yes, Mirajane is counting, and it’s been seven minutes since Clive stepped out of the room after having handed them some crappy sheet of paper that looks like a form (Mirajane hasn’t bothered to read it because she can’t bring herself to care).

Tik. Tik. Tik.

“Belserion. If you don’t stop that fucking noise right now, I’m going to shove that pen up your ass. Or down your throat. You pick your poison.”

Tik.

Mirajane’s breath hitches and her nostrils flare as she desperately tries to keep her cool and not just flip the desk in front of her. She knows that she can’t get pissed off. Clive is in the room next to them and will hear anything that is said even just a bit too loud. It’s annoying to know that he’s spying on them and expecting them to get along. They’ve known each other since middle school and never managed to get along, it isn’t about to start now.

She’s stopped making efforts even for Elfman and Lisanna’s sake.

“Are you planning on doing the work?” Erza asks, turning in her seat to look at Mirajane. “Clive said it’s the only way for us to reduce the amount of detention we got.”

“Shut up,” Mirajane mutters, rolling her eyes.

She waits for Erza to look back to the front of the room to finally look down at the paper sheet. 1) Why did you get detention? 2) How could you have avoided detention? 3) What are you learning from your time in detention? What the actual fuck? And the list of shitty questions goes on. Of course, Clive would pull off something like that just to annoy them. Mirajane has been in detention plenty of times before but she’s never had to fill in anything like that.

“You’re not going to do it, are you?” Erza asks, not bothering to turn around this time.

Mirajane scoffs, grabs the stupid form, balls it up and throws it at the back of Erza’s head – it’s so stupidly big that it’s impossible to miss. But the only response she gets is a groan. Erza doesn’t acknowledge her, doesn’t insult her, she simply picks up the paper and gets up to throw it in the trash can. How boring.

How is Mirajane supposed to survive detention with Erza if she can’t even get a reaction from her? She’ll probably die of boredom before even the end of the first hour. With a frustrated groan, Mirajane drops her head on her desk, forehead hitting it just a bit too hard not to be painful, but she refuses to acknowledge the pain when stupid Erza Belserion is right there. So, motivated to do nothing for the rest of detention, she hides her face in her arms and closes her eyes.

__

 Third day of detention.

Erza sighs as she opens the door of her mother’s car. She has no desire to take one step into school today, exhausted in advance by Mirajane’s ridiculous attitude. She’ll have to spend, yet again, two hours stuck in the same room as her and her gigantic ego.

“I’m picking you up after work, but I have a meeting so I might be a little late.”

Erza nods. Knowing her mother, a ‘little late’ will likely mean at least a whole hour. She’s used to it though. She doesn’t quite mind anymore, but it’s still disheartening to know that her own mother can’t find time to prioritize her over work.

“I’ll see you later, mom.”

“Erza?”

With a foot outside of the car already, Erza stops and looks back at her mother – she isn’t looking at her though, eyes fixed straight ahead.

“Stop getting detention over that girl.” Her voice is calm, but Erza knows that her mother is anything but calm. “You know how your father will get if he hears about it.”

Erza tightens her grip on the door handle, knuckles turning white. Mentioning her father is something that neither of them enjoys, something that they rarely do.

“You used to want to get along with that girl, didn’t you?”

Her jaw tenses. All she can do to stop herself from scoffing at her mother’s words is bite her lip. Maybe she used to. Maybe she wanted to make friends with Mirajane when they met in middle school. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Any hopes they once had to get along are long gone and forgotten; they can barely look at each other without wanting to jump at each other’s throat.

When did things get like that? Why did things get like that?

“I should go, or I’ll be late. See you later, mom.”

“Don’t become like him, Erza.”

Instead of acknowledging that last sentence and whatever it implied, Erza slams the door shut behind her and makes her way to the front gate of the school.

Since when does her mother mention her father twice in the same conversation?

She kicks a pebble and watches as it bounces on the ground. The day is barely starting, and she’s already pissed off – and not even because of Mirajane. Erza can only hope that she won’t run into that bitch or else she’ll definitely land herself in more troubles.

“C’m’on, Jenny! Don’t be such a stuck-up bitch!”

Erza freezes by the gates at the sound of the voice. Looking around, she finds Mirajane arguing with Jenny Realight, a few steps away from the morning crowd.

“Just take off the dog collar, you dumb bitch.”

Erza’s eyes widen. Did she really just hear a member of the disciplinary committee call Mirajane a dumb bitch without even sounding scared for their life? And Mirajane isn’t trying to punch her? Erza knows that most people at Magnolia High like Realight’s eccentric personality and admire her beauty, but for Mirajane not to try to punch a hole through her skull? That’s just insane.

“I won’t write it down,” Jenny assures, “so give me the collar, I’ll give it back to you after classes if you bring me my favorites tomorrow.”

Deciding that it isn’t a conversation that she should be hearing, Erza steps away, forcing her thoughts away from whatever Jenny could be referring to. She has to trust that a member of the disciplinary committee isn’t doing any sort of illegal business – even if Mirajane is involved. Then again, Mirajane has only ever been known for her provocative personality, not for doing (or selling) drugs.

Erza shakes her head and makes her way to the main building. She can’t just stand there in the middle of the way or she’ll end up being late to class, getting too distracted by thoughts of Mirajane involved in stupider things than fighting fellow students.

“Since when is Erza Belserion not at least ten minutes early?”

Evergreen’s annoying tone of superiority greets her as soon as she steps into the classroom, and for a moment, Erza wonders whether Evergreen pisses her off more than Mirajane does. She doesn’t let the thought bother her long though; they’re both too annoying and bitchy and that’s all Erza needs to know.

“Did you start another fight with your little friend?” Evergreen asks, and even if her hand covers her mouth, Erza knows that she’s smirking.

“Want me to tell her about you dating her brother behind her back, Ever?”

Erza’s retort is enough to shut Evergreen up. Erza has thrown around that kind of threats plenty of times before, but Evergreen usually whines about how she isn’t dating some ‘stupid second year too big to fit through a door’ – her own words. It seems that she’s finally accepting her relationship with the boy, or maybe man, since he’s so stubborn about all things manly.

As the day goes by and Erza’s struggle to focus grows, she realizes that not being stuck in the same class as Mirajane, for the very first time since they met, really is a blessing. But even without her direct presence, Erza can’t stop thinking about her and her obnoxious personality. What will detention be like today? If the vice-principal gives them the same form as the two previous days, will Mirajane ball it up again to throw it at the back of her head and proceed to nap for two hours instead of taking anything seriously?

Mirajane fucking Strauss really is driving her completely insane.

Before she can process her day and classes, it’s time to head to detention. Erza hates it. She has to watch her friends from the kendo team head for activities that she can’t join. It’s torture.

On her way, she runs into Freed, who offers her a soft smile the moment he spots her in the corridor.

“Hello, Captain,” he greets her with a polite bow of his head – always overly polite.

“Hello, Vice-Captain.” Out of habit, she returns his little bow. “I hope everyone is treating you well while I’m not around.”

He nods in a manner that can only be described as Freed-like.

“They’re behaving the best they can in the circumstances.”

The answer is a bit non-committal, but Erza understands exactly what he means. Natsu and Gray are dedicated, but messy and unable to follow rules when facing each other, Lucy always ends up stuck in the middle, and then there’s Gajeel, who didn’t have a choice in joining. The other members, at least, have the decency to somewhat behave themselves most of the time (bless Kagura and Freed’s existence, really).

“I should let you go, or you’ll be late,” Freed excuses himself with another short bow. “See you in practice next week, Captain!”

“See you, Vice-Captain!”

“Well, ain’t that sweet? Captain and vice-captain of the kendo club being all cute together.”

The teasing tone sends a shiver down Erza’s spine as she turns around to find Mirajane leaning a shoulder against the door of the room in which they’ll be locked up for the next two hours. So nonchalant and arrogant and obnoxious.

“You been dating long?” Mirajane asks, that smirk of hers stretching her lips. “Laxus knows you’re ogling his boy like that?”

“Don’t start, Strauss,” Erza says, pushing past Mirajane to open the door and take a seat in the front row. “I don’t want to fight again.”

Vice-Principal Clive arrives soon after, all bright smile and loud laughter. At least someone in this room is enjoying their time. He doesn’t hand them a dumb form this time, though, as he grabs chalk and faces the blackboard.

APOLOGIES & FORGIVENESS

The words are written in big letters. Impossible to ignore.

“Mirajane, come sit at the desk next to Erza.”

Before either of them can protest, the vice-principal raises a hand.

“This,” he gestures towards the blackboard, “is what you will be discussing. I want a written report when I come back in two hours.” He looks at Mirajane, who is dragging her feet. “And don’t think I won’t know if you don’t participate and let Erza do all the work.”

And with that, he leaves the classroom. The silence that settles in his absence is heavy, almost unbearable, but Erza can’t quite bring herself to start a conversation with Mirajane, even if she knows that they’re supposed to cooperate today.

Fuck. How are they supposed to work together on Clive’s assignment when they can’t have a single conversation that doesn’t end with a raised fist? That man either wants them dead or expelled from Magnolia High, there’s no other reason why he would force them to work together.

“This is bullshit.”

Mirajane’s voice nearly makes Erza jump in her seat.

“We still need to do what he wants.”

“So what? We’re supposed to write an essay on apologies?”

Erza shrugs. It’s not like the vice-principal’s instructions were clear.

“Maybe he wants us to prove that we can apologize and forgive.”

“Each other?”

Mirajane snorts and pushes back her chair so she has enough room to rest her feet on the desk – Erza wants to point out that it’s disrespectful and that she shouldn’t do that, but she knows that it’d only lead them to yet another argument. In this position, Mirajane’s skirt rides up and shows an amount of her thighs that is impossibly close to being indecent. Not that Erza notices, or cares, for that kind of things. It’s just that she can’t not see it when it’s right under her nose. She is definitely not staring at Mirajane’s stupid legs.

“Do you ever want to apologize to people you hurt?” Erza hears herself asking.

To her surprise, Mirajane doesn’t kick her desk. She doesn’t even budge. She seems to be genuinely thinking, to consider giving her an answer.

“Only when it’s Lisanna and Elfman, I guess.” Mirajane shrugs. “You think anyone wants to apologize for insulting me behind my back all the time? Or like, for telling my siblings that I’m a terrible person?”

Oh.

“I guess not,” Erza mumbles, a weird sensation settling down in her stomach. Is it guilt? She isn’t one of those people who insult Mirajane behind her back though. And she’s never thought that she’s a terrible person – just that she’s a bitch.

There’s silence again. It’s weird and uncomfortable, especially now that they’ve managed to exchange words that aren’t insults.

“I kinda want to apologize for the way I slammed you into the lockers,” she admits, staring down at the notebook she pulled out of her back earlier. She doesn’t have the courage to look at Mirajane as she speaks.

“Nah, that was fun.”

Erza glances at Mirajane, who is balancing her chair a bit too dangerously.

“But next time you want to push me around and make out with me, try to remember to actually make out with me.”

The smirk on Mirajane’s lips makes Erza choke on her saliva, and all she can do is cough and lean forward to try to hide her blushing cheeks. What the hell is wrong with that girl? She can’t seriously be spewing that kind of things like it’s not affecting her, can she?

Mirajane laughs at her pitiful state, but it doesn’t sound as mean as usual.

What is even happening here?

“Fuck!” Mirajane exclaims, visibly struggling to catch her breath as she keeps laughing. “I didn’t think you’d be that easy to fluster!”

Has Mirajane always been that pretty when laughing? Maybe it’s just something that Erza never got to see because the two of them are always fighting over the pettiest of reasons.

“Say, Belserion.”

“Mhm?”

“I kinda want to apologize for bringing your parents into our stupid fights.”

“Say, Strauss?”

“Hm?”

“Why do we even fight all the time?”

There’s no answer this time. Mirajane remains silent, and Erza isn’t sure she wants to probe. If Mirajane asked her the exact same question, Erza is certain that she wouldn’t be able to form a sentence. As far as Erza can remember, things have always been like that between them; it got worse with the years though, going from throwing insults carelessly to throwing kicks and punches.

The silence is stubborn, and neither of them seems to want to even dare glance at the other. As if it meant admitting defeat.

Erza sighs and locks her eyes on the blackboard in front of her. Apologies. Forgiveness. They’ve managed to talk about apologies (though neither of them actually apologized), so she has no doubt they can come up with something to write down for the vice-principal’s stupid report, but forgiveness? If they can’t even apologize for real, how are they to forgive each other? Are they even meant to forgive each other? Is that the goal of the exercise? Erza lets out another sigh.

“Gimme a pen and some paper,” Mirajane demands, shaking Erza out of her thoughts.

“What for?” Erza asks, even if she’s already digging into her backpack for paper.

“Gotta bullshit that report for Clive, no?” Mirajane shrugs, “And your handwriting is trash, so it’s better if I do it.”

Erza wants to be offended, but Mirajane isn’t exactly wrong about her handwriting. It used to be something that Mirajane used a lot to make fun of her when they were kids. It’s almost amusing that she remembers such a useless detail.

As Mirajane scribbles, Erza observes. The silence, barely interrupted by the pen gliding over paper, offers a most peaceful moment. Erza can’t remember ever seeing Mirajane look so calm or focused, and Erza decides that if she can’t look away, it’s because the sight is unusual, not because she notices how cute the other girl looks with a slight frown scrunching up her features and the most discreet of pouts on her lips.

They spend the remaining of their detention in a similar fashion, Erza just staring at Mirajane while she writes, the two of them only talking when Mirajane looks up to ask about certain phrasings and words. Erza catches herself gaping at Mirajane’s unexpected way with words and how good she is at “bullshitting the report”, as she calls it.

When Vice-Principal Clive slides the door open, Mirajane shoves the report in his hands and practically leaps out of the classroom, ignoring the fact that she isn’t allowed to run in the corridors and definitely shouldn’t be doing it in front of staff members.

“You worked on that together?” he asks, glancing down at the report.

“I guess, yeah.”

“It wasn’t that hard to listen to each other and not throw a punch, was it?”

Erza shrugs. She wants to say that it actually was, but she can’t. She has spent the past years loathing Mirajane’s very existence and now it feels like it’s been all for nothing because the girl isn’t even half that bad. It’s stupid, it makes her feel stupid. Erza isn’t sure they could ever get along, or become friends, but she knows that they never needed to fight. It pisses her off.

“It’s nice to see Mirajane actually taking something somewhat seriously for once,” Clive comments as he scans the report quickly. “Well, I’ll tell you what I think of this tomorrow, but right now I need to go find my daughter.”

Slowly, Erza makes her way to the front gates, knowing all too well that her mother won’t be here to pick her up. It’s just how it’s always been. Erza is used to taxi rides to get home – it’s still nice that her mother tries to make efforts from time to time.

__

 “I gotta talk with Realight, I’ll see you two later,” Mirajane says, giving Lisanna’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Her siblings are used to it by now, and they’ve stopped teasing her about her unexpected (and just plain weird) friendship with Jenny Realight, extravagant member of the disciplinary committee and popularity queen of the school.

“See you at lunch!”

Mirajane dodges her sister’s attempt to kiss her cheek and punches Elfman’s arm when he tries to trail behind, likely to keep an eye on her and make sure that she doesn’t start yet another fight when they’ve barely stepped into school. Both Elfman and Lisanna have been a lot more worried than they need to be since she got herself a whole week of detention. Well, maybe they’ve got reason to worry, but Mirajane can’t just go around telling them that.

And it doesn’t matter anyway. Tomorrow should be her last day of detention with Belserion. They haven’t murdered each other. Everything is fine.

(Except for the fact she can’t stop thinking about how cute Belserion is when she blushes.)

“If it isn’t my favorite goth girlfriend material senior!”

Jenny’s exclamation has Mirajane rolling her eyes. It isn’t the first time Jenny comes up with some bullshit like that, and she knows it won’t be the last, so she doesn’t even bother saying anything about it – no need to bring attention to it, it’ll only motivate Jenny to be more annoying.

“Wait wait wait! You’re not giving me anything to work on here?” Jenny whines loudly as she looks her up and down. “Not even a little bracelet?”

Mirajane shrugs.

“Shut up, Realight,” Mirajane says, though her voice lacks any sort of edge. She drops her bag on the ground and squats so that she can grab what she wants. She gets back up and extends a small box to the blonde. “Your order. With a bonus ‘cause I’m generous like that.”

“More like because I dropped the septum issue,” Jenny scoffs.

Mirajane could make her way to class, but she doesn’t budge, preferring to watch as Jenny opens the box to check on its content, counting the cookies and brownies (white chocolate, all of them, because Jenny has disgustingly sweet tastes when it comes to baked goods) that Mirajane wasted way too much effort into baking the previous night.

“To your liking?”

Jenny hums. “How’re things with you and Erza?”

“What’d’ya mean?”

“Nothing!” Jenny offers her the brightest, fakest smile possible. “Gotta get back to work! See you later, my favorite punk senior!”

“Wasn’t I your goth girlfriend material senior two minutes ago?”

“Still a punk.”

Obnoxious brat.

The day drags itself too slowly. It feels like every class lasts forever. Forever filled with thoughts of ‘How’re things with you and Erza?’. What the hell did Jenny mean by that? She can’t possibly be expecting to them become friends, especially through goddamn detention.

When Mirajane drags herself to detention after classes, Erza’s stupid face makes her want to kick something (she doesn’t though, surprisingly). Stupid pretty face. Looking more friendly than she should when they (supposedly) hate each other. Clive’s obnoxious assignment doesn’t help Mirajane’s mood in the slightest. It’s the same bullshit as yesterday. But their sole theme this time is ‘friendship’.

“Like we could ever be friends,” Mirajane mumbles.

“We managed to figure out what to write about apologies, I’m sure we can… bullshit… this too.”

And they do bullshit it, with a surprising amount of ease. And a surprising amount of talking. It’s easy to tease, to make fun of how weird their friends are, how weird the concept of friendship is. Because how the fuck do you just see someone and decide ‘Yeah, that dickhead’s gonna be by my side for a long time from now on’?

“Look at us being friends,” Mirajane teases, grimacing at the words playfully. “And I don’t even want to kick your ass, can you imagine?”

“And I don’t want to strangle you.”

Mirajane makes the mistake of glancing at Erza’s face – there’s a small smile on her lips, one she’s never seen before, or at least not one that’s ever been directed at her. She wants to ignore the beat that her heart skips, or maybe she wants to kick Erza’s ass now, for making her feel that way, but there’s nothing she can do. She is powerless right now.

“Hello again, girls!”

Clive slams the door open, startling both girls out of their minds.

“Fuck! Can’t you open doors like a normal person?”

“Language, Mirajane,” the vice-principal says as he steps inside the room. “Did you get anything done today?”

Rather than answer, Mirajane hands him their stupid bullshitted report.

“I hope you did at least as well as yesterday. You surprised me. Both of you.”

Mirajane can’t handle looking at the man as he praises their work. She’s used to other students insulting her, teacher scolding her for her attitude; this is nothing she’s equipped to deal with.

“I could take half an hour to talk about what you did.” Mirajane’s eyes go as wide as saucers at his words, but he grins and opens his mouth again. “But I’m feeling generous, so I’ll set free you for today. Go home, girls. I’m proud of you both.”

Head tilted down, Mirajane throws her pen in her back and exits the classroom without saying goodbye. She needs to get away from this whole thing. She can hear Erza bidding Clive goodbye and catching up with her, though she stays a couple steps behind her rather than walk by her side.

She should be running to try and catch a bus, but she’s tried the three previous days and never made it in time, so she doesn’t bother. And maybe – maybe deep down – she hopes that Erza and she can strike some sort of conversation. What the fuck is wrong with her? She should want to punch her square in the face, not to chit-chat with her! (She’s never really wanted to punch her, though, it’s always just happened.)

Her frustration with herself is threatening to boil and spill over when she steps outside of the main building. The cool breeze hits her skin and immediately soothes her.

Approaching the gates, she squints. There’s a luxurious-looking car parked right outside, and the man standing there doesn’t look like he belongs anywhere near a school. He’s all apathetic eyes and expensive suit – the kind of dickhead who has a watch that costs more than a year of rent, Mirajane can’t help but think.

Behind her, she hears Erza swearing under her breath, and when she glances over her shoulder, all she sees is her scarlet hair as she makes a bee line for the trees by the entrance. Mirajane looks back at the man, seemingly too focused on his phone to have noticed either of them. Mirajane knows this isn’t any of her business and that it’d be so much easier for her to ignore this whole weird situation, but instead of simply heading home, she follows after Erza.

“S’that your old man?” Mirajane asks, leaning against a tree, staring straight at Erza.

The girl only nods, her phone clutched in her hands.

“He shouldn’t be here,” she whispers weakly. There’s none of her usual confidence in her voice and Mirajane has the sudden urge to punch something, anything, or many just that man’s guts would do.

“Follow me.”

“Uh?”

Mirajane rolls her eyes and rather than explain, she grabs Erza’s wrist and drags her away from the front gate. She shouldn’t care, should just be going home and leave Erza to deal with her own shit, but she can’t. Not when Erza fucking Belserion’s hands are trembling from only seeing some dickhead.

“Are we going to the pool? I don’t exactly fancy a swim right now, Strauss.”

“Just shut up, Belserion. Trust the delinquent who knows how to get out of school without needing to go through the front gates, okay?”

It seems to be enough to make Erza shut up as they make their way to the school’s pool. They technically aren’t allowed there since they aren’t part of the swim team, but it’s not like Mirajane has ever cared about rules.

“Lockser!” Mirajane exclaims when she spots long blue hair by the pool.

The girl jumps at the sound of her name being called out, and Mirajane smirks, satisfied with the effect her voice has on people, even the ones who know that she won’t do anything. Juvia is a decent girl, a friend of Gajeel and Laxus, and of hers, by association. They never call each other friend though, and Juvia is still scared of Mirajane – and Mirajane knows exactly why.

“Gimme the key.”

“I can’t,” Juvia says as she reaches for a towel.

She looks at Mirajane, her eyes dropping to her hand, still tightly wrapped around Erza’s wrist, and they both pull away at the same time, cheeks flushed at the realization that they’ve been touching all along. Mirajane is grateful that Juvia doesn’t seem to want to point it out, or even the fact that Mirajane is hanging out with Erza.

“Gimme the key or I stop pretending I don’t know you’re dating my sister.”

Juvia’s eyes widen, and Mirajane hears Erza let out a little gasp.

“The swim team isn’t allowed to have the key anymore because we kept giving it to Gajeel,” Juvia says, barely able to hold eye contact. “You knew? About Lisanna and Juvia?”

“Of course. You suck at hiding it. But at least you’re still better than Elf and Evergreen.”

“You know about them too?!” Erza exclaims.

Mirajane gives a small shrug. She’s known for a while, but she likes to pretend that she has no clue; it’s fun to see people get squirmy and watch them struggle to come up with good excuses, and both her siblings are absolutely adorable when they do.

She sighs deeply, “Guess we’ll have to make a jump for it.”

“Jump for what?”

Mirajane doesn’t answer and starts walking away from the pool, this time making the conscious effort not to grab Erza. They follow the tall wall that surrounds the school grounds for a few minutes, until they reach the perfect spot. Here, the wall is frayed, and several bricks have been pulled out. The so-called delinquents of the school know that this is where to go if you want to climb over the wall with ease.

Mirajane carelessly throws her bag over the wall. She places her foot in one of the holes left by a broken brick and pushes herself up with ease, settling on top of the wall, a leg on either side of it as she stares down at Erza, who is looking at her with eyes full of surprise.

“You coming?”

“I’m not throwing my bag over that wall,” Erza protests, fists resting on her hips.

“Then give it to me.”

To her surprise, Erza doesn’t try to find an excuse and just hands her bag over. Mirajane leans down as far as she can without risking falling before dropping Erza’s bag, quickly looking back at the girl to extend a hand to her. She half expects Erza to slap her hand away, but she grabs it and hoists herself up on the wall, mirroring Mirajane’s straddling position. They stare at each other for a moment, perched atop the school wall.

Erza is the first one to dare break the silence.

“I thought you were just an asshole, but you really aren’t all that bad,” she admits, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Why are you helping me though?”

“’Cause you looked scared.”

Erza tilts her head down, chin meeting her collarbone.

“You don’t have to tell me about the asshole,” Mirajane says, trying to sound as calm and reassuring as she can, “but if you ever need to avoid him, just ask. I won’t ask questions, I’ll just help.”

Erza nods.

It’s so fucking awkward. Erza still isn’t looking up. And straddling the wall is starting to make her ass numb. So, Mirajane decides to do what she does best. She leans closer to Erza, invading her personal space in the most obnoxious of manners.

“I know how you feel about pushing me against walls and making out with me, but how about a kiss when sitting on a wall, uh?” she taunts, smirking the second she sees Erza stiffen and straighten her back. Her whole face is turning bright red – she really is adorable when she’s flustered.

“Why are you so obsessed with kissing me all of a sudden?” Erza stutters her way through the sentence and Mirajane just has to laugh at the question.

“Well, you know what they say about rivals and sexual tension!”

“I don’t! You’re just a perv!”

“Watch your tongue, Belserion, I’ll push you.”

Before Mirajane can do, or say, anything else, Erza jumps off the wall and grabs her bag.

“See you in detention tomorrow, Strauss!”

“What about my kiss?”

“You can choke!”

__

 Erza is almost buzzing with excitement. Yesterday has been a mess of an emotional rollercoaster; she is still confused about what happened with Mirajane, uncertain how to feel about seeing her father again and having to bring him up during dinner with her mother. Giddiness and guilt sure make for a very unsettling combination and Erza still can’t make sense of it. But it isn’t what matters right now.

She takes a deep breath and slides open the classroom door. For the last time this week, she will be spending two hours in detention with Mirajane – she isn’t here yet, but that much isn’t surprising. Erza can’t quite expect the local delinquent to be early for detention. Interestingly enough, it’s starting to become harder to see Mirajane as just a delinquent, even after climbing a wall with her to get out of school. To avoid her father. Mirajane helped her.

Mirajane Strauss helped her, Erza Belserion.

Her heart is beating just a bit too fast, too painfully, at the thought.

‘Cause you looked scared.

Erza doesn’t like thinking that it’s so obvious that Mirajane could figure it out. But maybe Mirajane is a lot more observant than she had given her credit for (only confirmed by the fact that she knows exactly who her siblings are dating).

“Yo, loser!”

“Strauss.”

She didn’t even hear the door open, and her heart is beating like crazy from the shock, but Erza is pretty sure that she manages to hide just how startled she got. Her heart has no chance to calm down, as Mirajane takes a seat at the desk next to her, just like during the previous detention.

“If it isn’t my favorite duo!” Vice-Principal Clive singsongs as he steps into the room. “Welcome to today’s detention!”

He sounds way too excited about this. Erza exchanges a look with Mirajane, and it’s obvious that she’s just as worried as her because of it.

“Your last subject – that is if you do just as well as with the other reports – is,” he drums his fingers against Mirajane’s desk, most likely to annoy her, “forgiving each other and figuring out what you can do to be better starting today!”

Erza blinks. What the hell?

“You’ll give me separate reports this time. See you girls in two hours!”

And just like that, he is gone.

“You ever think the staff members drink and smoke everything they confiscate?” Mirajane wonders out loud.

Erza chuckles, “they probably do, yeah.”

Detention is quiet for the most part, and Erza is almost too focused on writing to realize that Mirajane put her pen back in her bag after writing only a couple of sentences. Almost. She wants to ask her why, but she doesn’t want to risk annoying her when they are only starting to find some sort of balance.

On several occasions, she catches Mirajane peering over at what she’s writing, and her frown doesn’t go unnoticed. Erza knows that her handwriting is terrible and that teachers hate to have to look at whatever she hands in.

“You haven’t written much, Mirajane. Detention is almost over. You sure you want to risk it?” Erza asks, pen pressed to her lips as she struggles to find the right words to write down.

“Yup,” she simply answers. “I like what I wrote.”

Erza isn’t exactly finished with her report when the vice-principal comes back, still in the same weirdly good mood as before.

His face betrays no emotion as he quickly skims through the content of Erza’s report, but the second he looks at Mirajane’s, his eyes widen. It’s obvious that he is taking the time to read the whole thing.

“You know I could give you more detention for that, right?” he inquires.

“Yup.” Mirajane smirks. “But you won’t because I did what you asked.”

Vice-Principal Clive rolls his eyes at her confidence, but he makes no further comment. Mirajane has just won an argument with the vice-principal.

“You two go. And I don’t want to have to see you in detention ever again, understood? This is your last year, so don’t waste it.”

They fall into step with each other as they make their way outside the main building, and the silence that settles between them, while awkward, isn’t heavy or particularly uncomfortable. Erza isn’t sure what to say, and Mirajane doesn’t seem to know any better.

“The dickhead isn’t here today,” Mirajane announces as they approach the front gates. “Guess I’m not getting a kiss on the wall today either.”

“Seriously, why are you so obsessed with kissing me all of a sudden?”

“You get all blushy and stutter-y, it’s fucking cute!” Mirajane’s tone is teasing, but not mean, and she laughs, the sound almost sweet to Erza’s ears. “You should see your face, seriously!”

Erza groans and whines when she notices Mirajane taking out her phone, she doesn’t have time to react properly and hide her face before Mirajane is proudly announcing that she snapped a picture of her blushing face.

“Say, Strauss?”

“Hm?”

Erza breathes in.

“What did you write for Clive to react like that?”

“Gimme a kiss and I’ll tell you.”

Erza glares, but Mirajane stares back and has the audacity to smile. And no matter how hard she tries to ignore the way it makes her feel, her face is burning.

“Tell me and I might give you a kiss,” she hears herself say. She has no clue what is going on through her own head right now; she definitely shouldn’t be indulging Mirajane’s weird new obsession with kissing her, but she can’t help it.

“I wrote that I want to kick the dickhead in the balls,” Mirajane starts, her eyes unblinking. “Because even if I want to punch you sometimes, I don’t actually want to hurt you.”

Erza can’t find any word to express how she feels right now under Mirajane’s intense stare. Have her eyes always been so light and pretty? Most likely. She opens her mouth, but before any sound comes out, Mirajane is talking again.

“Also wrote that I wanna make things better by making out with you against the lockers.”

“Strauss!” Erza yells, annoyed.

Mirajane sticks out her tongue at her.

“How ‘bout that kiss then?”

Erza looks down at her feet, unable to maintain eye contact with Mirajane when she is acting like that – so annoyingly confident and gorgeous. Stupid pretty eyes. Stupid pretty face.

“Let me kiss you, Erza. Please.”

Please?

Erza looks up. There’s a soft expression on Mirajane’s features that she’s never seen before. She is so taken aback that she nods before she can realize what she is doing.

Mirajane takes the two steps that separate them and places a hand on the back on her neck to pull her closer. When their lips touch, Erza’s breath itches in her throat at how gentle Mirajane is. It’s so innocent, and she can feel Mirajane’s long manicured nails against her skin. Just as she pulls away, Mirajane’s tongue teases her lower lip, and Erza shoves at her shoulders, sending the girl in a fit of laughter.

“You’re gross!”

“I couldn’t help myself, sorry!” Mirajane is still laughing. “Seriously, you’re really fucking cute when you blush like that.”

“I’m never kissing you again.”

“I don’t believe that.”

Maybe Mirajane is right not to believe her. Erza does wonder what it’d be like to kiss her again – potentially after having pushed her against the lockers. But she can’t say that; it’d feed Mirajane’s ego way too much, and it would also be too embarrassing.

“Wanna kiss again?”

Erza is ready to protest, mouth opening.

“God no! Please don’t! I’ve seen too much already!”

They both turn at the same time to see Jenny Realight standing a few feet away from them, a look of faux disgust on her face.

“You just had to ruin the moment, uh?” Mirajane asks, eyebrow raised. “If I catch you, you’re dead.”

“If you catch me, you’ll end up in detention again.”

“It’ll be worth it!”

Before Erza has any idea what’s going on, Mirajane is running after Jenny, their kiss apparently long forgotten.

“Mirajane! If you get in more detention, I won’t let you kiss me again!”

   Kagura felt shame rushing from deep down her guts to her cheeks as Millianna’s words echoed through her mind. Still, weeks after the fact, Kagura failed to see the wrong in what she had done, though she wasn’t sure why she had done it in the first place. An eye for an eye, a kiss for a kiss. Right? The logic made sense. It did to her, but apparently, other people, like her best friend, thought that it was sloppy.

   Reminiscing the kiss, the warmth of Erza’s cheek under her touch and the softness of her lips, Kagura felt her whole face burning up. Why?

   Kagura was halfway through convincing herself to just turn around and leave when the doors opened, revealing the silhouette of the very person Kagura was too embarrassed to look at.

   “Oh,” was the little sound that left Erza’s lips. “Kagura.”

   Kagura clenched her jaw. She didn’t think it possible, but her face felt even hotter now. Her heart was beating too fast. That wasn’t normal, was it?

   “Erza...”

   Before Kagura could say anything else, Erza had her wrapped in a painfully tight embrace, chest pressed to her armor.

   “It’s so nice to see you again, Kagura!” Erza only tightened her embrace around Kagura’s shoulders, nearly crushing her. “But what are you doing in Magnolia?”

   “I had a job nearby. I thought it might be rude not to come see you since I had the opportunity.” Kagura struggled to explain, both because of Erza’s bone-crushing hug and the proximity that left her breathless.

   “Erza, let the girl go, you’re going to kill her.”

   Kagura wasn’t sure who had spoken (the voice was unfamiliar but comfortingly soft and kind) but she was thankful for them, as Erza loosened her vice-like grip on her. Her back would remember it for several days, no doubt. Still, Erza stood close to her, too close. But it would be the perfect moment to ask her to go-- to go where?

   “Erza!” Kagura exclaimed, eyes shut tightly, embarrassment and shame bubbling in her stomach all over again. “Erza! Go out with me today!”

   Everything was silent. Even the bustling inside the guild had stopped, more than indication enough that Kagura had spoken much too loudly and caught the attention of everyone around. When she opened her eyes to confirm the disastrous results, Erza was frozen in place, a confused look on her face, just like when she had kissed her, and everyone was staring.

   She should have never listened to Millianna -- she always had weird ideas about what to do, especially when it came to just about any sort of feelings. Kagura’s face felt so hot that she thought her head might explode.

   “This idea was so stupid. I should have known,” she muttered under her breath, fists clenched at her sides.

   “I’ll go with you.”

   Kagura blinked.

   “You will?”

   Erza’s smile was kind. And so beautiful. Erza was the most stunning of warriors that Kagura would ever have the chance to encounter, there was no doubt in her mind. Had she really accepted her offer? It felt surreal.

   “I will. So, let’s go!”

   Kagura felt a strong grip on her right forearm, steel-clad fingers biting her skin from the roughness of the gesture, but she couldn’t find it in herself to say anything about it. Erza looked content, pleased, and it was obvious wasn’t to hurt Kagura -- so how could Kagura say anything that could erase Erza’s smile?

   “Erza?”

   The woman stopped abruptly and let go the arm she had been using to drag Kagura behind her through the streets of Magnolia. Erza’s head was tilted to the side, so akin to a puppy, as she patiently waited for Kagura to express herself.

   “You may have noticed that I am not very comfortable when interacting with people outside of my guild,” Kagura said, and Erza nodded. “I do not always know what to say or do, and it was brought to my attention that... that...” Kagura bit down on her lip. It was hard to meet Erza’s eyes right now when she couldn’t even bare to think about the fact that she had kissed Erza. “I PROMISE NOT TO KISS YOU AGAIN!”

   Erza gave her shoulder a harsh slap and laughed. Erza was laughing.

   “Don’t promise such a thing, Kagura.”

   Erza’s features had softened so quickly that Kagura was barely able to register the change.

   “Promise to ask me first instead next time.”

   Next time?

   NEXT TIME?!

   “Next time?” Kagura repeated, voice trembling over the two words.

   Instead of replying, Erza grabbed her hand -- she had unequipped her glove without Kagura realizing -- and started to walk again. Her fingers were calloused, even more so than Kagura’s own, but they still felt soft, or maybe it was their warmth that softened Kagura’s heart.

   “You’re cute when you blush, Kagura.”

   “Thank you,” she whispered. “Do you really mean that I could kiss you again, though?”

   Erza gave a shrug of her shoulders.

   “Ask if you can kiss me and you’ll know.”

   “Erza!”

   Maybe that idea hadn’t been all that stupid, after all.

   The Rain Village was no real village though, it was a mere few houses long abandoned, the only place in the kingdom where the sun never shone, always covered by heavy clouds and heavier rains — nobody had ever been able to understand the reasons behind the peculiar (and rather disastrous) situation. There were rumors that a witch had been born there and brought rain with her since the day she first saw the light, rumors that the infant witch had been abandoned alongside the village she had cursed with constant rain. Witches and curses where things that Lucy loved to read about in books, but she highly doubted to find veracity in the rumors surrounding the Rain Village. Magic and dragons might have existed centuries ago, but there was no sign of either anywhere now.

   Lucy knew that her feet were bleeding, but she could not stop now. She needed to keep going until she reached the Rain Village; she could rest there but could not allow herself a break before.

   A small gasp escaped her. There it was. Under the soft light of daybreak stood the Rain Village, atop a small hill on the other side of the valley. Dark clouds and rain pouring down while the sky remained clear around it. It was as odd as it was breathtaking. Lucy had never seen anything like that before.

   She was surprised to find that the air barely got colder as she approached the eternal rain. The houses were simple in style, stone and wood, looked solid; and they had to be if they had resister constant rain for so many years. Lucy froze in place at her first step under the rain at the loud clanking sound that echoed onto the stone walls, followed by a light humming. 

   Mesmerized by the faint voice, Lucy followed it between the small houses until she found its source.

   A young woman was kneeling on the ground, too focused on washing the clothes bathing in the wooden basin in front of her. Her skin was pale and seemed as delicate as porcelain, her long blue hair was tied high by a thick ribbon, exposing her elegant neck. And as her heart tightened in her chest, Lucy could not help but wonder if she was getting sick. How could she wear only a dress that barely covered her arms and not be bothered by the rain hitting her skin?

   In that moment, Lucy was willing to believe that witches existed, and that this woman was enchanting her.

   “Excuse me?”

   The woman jumped, startled. She rose to her feet and took several steps back, to distance herself from Lucy, no doubt.

   “My apologies. I did not mean to startle you.”

   The woman nodded hesitantly. It seemed like she rarely encountered other people and was not used to company or conversation anymore.

   “Leave. There is nothing for you here, traveler.”

   “I mean no harm,” Lucy assured, rising her arms to prove that she carried no weapon. “I have nowhere to go and merely seek refuge for a few hours.”

   The woman blinked, “refuge? Nobody ever seeks refuge in the Rain Village. People do not want to be here.”

   “Do you not live here?”

   The woman turned her head slightly, cheeks tinted by apparent embarrassment. She truly was beautiful, and Lucy was convinced that even all the princesses that she had ever encountered in her life could only hope to look one day as pure as the woman in front of her — this woman who did not require any of the artifices of luxury to take Lucy’s breath away.

   “Juvia is the only person who lives here.”

   Lucy did not let her surprise at the oddity of the woman’s speech pattern show on her face. And, decided to make the other woman trust her, she pulled back her hood, not caring if the rain left her hair drenched and rolled down her face. She offered a smile, and for a second, it felt as though the rain had slowed down.

   “So, your name is Juvia?” Lucy’s heart still beat too fast. “I’m Lucy. It is a pleasure to meet you, Juvia of the Rain Village.”

   “We should head inside, you might get sick, Lucy the Traveler.”

   The woman’s voice sounded the slightest bit softer, but there was not the slightest hint of a smile on her lips. Lucy’s disappointment was great, but if the woman named Juvia could accept her into her home, then it was a victory, undoubtedly.

   Juvia opened the door to the closest house, the largest one of the three that Lucy had seen when she had first taken a step under the rain. She stepped inside, followed by the other woman.

   The house was very modest in appearance; one room for all purposes. An oven and a large sink in one corner, a decently sized fireplace, a bed against the farthest wall, a table and a couple of chairs near a tall shelf that barely contained any books — Lucy recognized most of the titles, fairy tales and stories of adventure and conquest, all of them found in the library of the Magnolia Castle. But even though it was the largest housing from what Lucy had seen, it contained no bathing area. Did Juvia wash outside? Lucy could not help but wonder.

   “Are you really alone here?”

   Juvia nodded.

   “It has been about nine years, I believe.”

   “Nine years? But...”

   But Juvia could not be more than a couple of years older than her. If she truly had been alone for nine years, it meant that her people had abandoned Juvia when she was a child. Could parents be so cruel that they left their own child behind? Alone, where dangers loomed and threatened her life. How had Juvia survived for so many years on her own?

   “Juvia doesn’t mind being alone.”

   Her voice was unwavering, and her tone lacked emotion as she spoke, but no matter how sincere she sounded, Lucy refused to believe that Juvia did not mind the heavy weight of loneliness. Lucy herself had spent many years feeling lonely, even though she was never truly alone at the castle — she was never allowed to be alone, and yet, friends were what Lucy had never had. No. Lucy had friends, she had Natsu the stable boy and his odd blue cat, and Gray who worked the kitchens, but neither of them were deemed worthy enough to be seen in her company.

   If Lucy felt lonely while always surrounded by people, how lonely could Juvia feel?

   “You should sit by the fire. It is dangerous for a traveler to catch a cold, is it not?”

   Lucy nodded and took off her cape, hanging it on the back of a chair. She moved to settle on the floor by the fireplace, just like Juvia had recommended. It felt weird to make herself comfortable in the home of a stranger, but there was nothing threatening about Juvia — not in Lucy’s mind at least. The woman was beautiful and had welcomed her without asking questions. Maybe her beauty should not have been a reason for Lucy to trust her, though.

   “Don’t you ever get sick?” Lucy asked, her curiosity getting the best of her. “You should sit with m—”

   Lucy froze as she was turning around to look away from the fireplace and back at Juvia, words caught in her throat.

   Juvia was working on undoing the laces of the front of her corseted dress, fabric already loosening around her shoulders and chest. Lucy’s eyes snapped shut and her face burned at the mere memory of all the exposed skin. By the gods and everything holy...

   “You can’t just disrobe in front of a stranger!” Lucy squeaked, her hands gathered on lap, lightly clenching on the wet material of her skirts.

   “I can’t?”

   No Juvia this time. Lucy almost threw a look above her shoulder. The woman really spoke in odd patterns, the use of her own name almost childish but endearing to Lucy, but she still could refer to herself as ‘I’. Maybe when she was taken by surprise? 

   Lucy breathed out through her nose, pinching its bridge, deep in thoughts. If truly she had been abandoned by her family as a child, it would make perfect sense that she would not be aware of even the simplest social etiquette, like not getting naked when someone you had just met was in the room — it was not entirely true, but they were no lovers for a night. Where was her mind even heading? Lucy shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts.

   “But my dress is wet...”

   It made sense that Juvia would want to change into dry and warm clothes, but still, Lucy had not expected to see so much skin barely a handful of minutes after meeting the woman.

   “I shall look away, if you must change.”

   As soon as she spoke the words, she heard the rustling of cloth behind her. She heard footsteps and guessed that Juvia was moving towards her bed — Lucy resisted the temptation to steal a look in her direction, knowing too well that her whole body must have been bare by now. The image that her mind provided her was one of sinful seduction, an image that she needed chased from her conscious.

   Trying to keep her mind busy, away from straying thoughts of the other woman’s nude form, Lucy busied herself untying her shoes to free her aching feet. She had run too long in boots that offered little comfort. At least her feet were not in as terrible a shape as she expected them to be. There was a cut at the back of her ankles, but nothing too deep or painful.

   “Where are you heading, Lucy?”

   “My final destination is Crocus.”

   Juvia hummed at her answer.

   “Crocus? Juvia is not surprised. You wear the luxury of the people of the capital.”

   Lucy looked down at the thick material of her skirts, ran her fingers along the lines of her corset, gave a little tug at the sleeve of her undershirt that was riding up her arm. She had not thought that her clothes were anything special — they were the simplest that she owned, what she would have worn when walking the streets of Magnolia with only one guard by her side. Those were meant not to stand out too much, but to a woman who had been on her own in the Rain Village since childhood, it seemed like even the smallest of luxuries were too much.

   “You come from the city, do you not?” There was a hint of curiosity in Juvia’s voice. “Magnolia?”

   “I do.” Lucy felt a tug at her heart. “Have you ever been there?”

   There was a long silent pause, not the faintest of rustling or breathing interrupted it. As though time had stopped for a moment.

   “Once.”

   Lucy doubted that she would get more out of the woman about that subject. And was herself unsure to want to hear about her home. She was leaving it behind for a good reason and exploring it through the memories of a stranger would most likely not do her any good. Nor would it change her perspective of the city, considering the heavy weight that she could hear in Juvia’s voice.

   “May I ask why you are going to Crocus?”

   Lucy smiled as she heard Juvia approach — she sat on the floor next to her, and Lucy finally dared look at her again. She was not quite decent enough yet, but Lucy watched in amusement as Juvia, hands trembling, fought with the laces of her undershirt while her corset hung loosely above her hips. Too many times had Lucy been in a similar situation, though she had had servants to handle these things for her.

   “Let me help you?”

   Juvia blinked, hands clutching almost instinctively at the front of her shirt, the gesture protective. But she nodded and let go, shifting to face Lucy, who moved closer to her so that she could easily reach the laces.

   So close to the other woman, Lucy could see every detail of her breathtaking beauty. The long lashes that shielded the deep darkness of her blue eyes, the elegant curve of her shoulders, the rare and discreet freckles contrasting with her pale skin. Lucy gulped and focused on the task at hands.

   “Juvia sometimes wishes to travel, too.”

   At the soft sound of the woman’s voice, Lucy looked back at her face. Juvia's brow was creased in a small frown.

   “Do you want to come with me? To Crocus?”

   Juvia’s eyes widened.

   “I cannot leave my home.”

   Not wanting to push the subject — she had just asked a stranger to join her on her journey after all — Lucy nodded, offering Juvia a smile as she finished to lace her corset, having already made quick work of her shirt. Before retracting her hands entirely, Lucy let her fingers linger against the fabric wrapped snugly around Juvia’s rib cage. An act of weakness, a failure to resist temptation.

   “Here you go, all done.”

   Lucy’s smile broadened. Juvia’s hands were not shaking anymore.

   “Thank you,” the woman whispered, not quite meeting Lucy’s eyes. “You are a very kind person.”

   “You invited me into your home, so I would argue that you are the kind one in this situation.”

   Juvia gave a quick nod of her head, looking down at her hands, resting on her lap. It was all too obvious that having company was not something that she was used to. Or maybe it was company that offered her kindness that Juvia was not used to. Had many adventurers and travelers walked through the Rain Village only to throw unbecoming words and curses at the infamous witch?

   What a witch Juvia made. She was merely a beautiful young woman who lived under constant rain — there was nothing remotely terrifying about that.

   As they sat together by the fireplace, Lucy and Juvia learned to know each other at a slow pace, simple information exchanged from time to time, about the foods they liked to eat, about the ways Juvia had found to survive alone in the rain. Lucy was fascinated by every word that fell from the other woman’s mouth, fascinated by the sound of her voice.

   Lucy had learned that, though Juvia had been taught the most basic survival skills as a child, as well as reading, she had been teaching herself most of the things that she knew. And when Juvia had explained that reading was a particularly difficult task, though one she found a lot of enjoyment in, Lucy had offered her help — they had spent several hours going over the books that Juvia owned (ones that had been left behind by her people, or that Juvia had found in the bags of travelers too scared of the Rain Village Witch to keep a hold on their belongings). Lucy had explained as best as she could the details that evaded Juvia’s grasp, as she knew very little of life outside of her home, and when Juvia asked how Lucy could know so much about royalty, Lucy had said that she had heard many rumors. It hurt to lie to such a pure soul, but telling the truth seemed unnecessary.

   “Are you sure you do not want to take provisions with you?”

   “You have offered me shelter and your friendship, surely, I cannot ask for more from you.”

   Though Juvia seemed to want to argue, she kept her lips tight together and merely nodded.

   Lucy had no desire to leave her new friend behind, but if she stayed any longer, the risks of the royal guards finding her there, in the company of the alleged rain witch, would only get higher. She loathed to think about what would happen to Juvia, were the royal guards aware of her existence, alone and vulnerable.

   An alleged witch who had found herself in the company of a princess running away from her home. It would be too dangerous.

   “Are you certain you do not wish to travel with me?”

   “Rain follows me wherever I go, I cannot cast this shadow on your adventures, Lucy.”

   Standing by the door, fingers wrapped around the handle, Lucy smiled brightly at Juvia as she shook her head.

   “It would hardly be a shadow over my travel in the company of a friend.”

   “Friend?”

   “Of course! We are friends now!”

   “Juvia has never had friends before...”

   Lucy let go of the door handle and stepped closer to Juvia, close to Juvia, close enough to run a hand down her arm and grab her hand. She was pleased that Juvia did not flinch away or reject the touch.

   “I would be honored to be your first friend,” Lucy assured.

   “Does it mean that you will come back to the Rain Village?”

   Lucy shook her head, “I will come back to you, Juvia. To my friend.”

   When tears filled her friend’s eyes, Lucy squeezed her hand gently between her fingers, wanting nothing more than to wrap her arms around her, to hold her and promise, a whisper in her ear, that she would come back for her. But she resisted the urge, refused to risk overwhelming a woman who had had so little positive contact with other humans for almost ten years that she had never had someone to call a friend.

   A final squeeze to Juvia’s fingers and Lucy let go, stepping back and away. As she opened the door, she was hit with the gentle warmth of the morning. Now that the sun was up, above them, the weather was nice.

   The sun.

   Lucy looked down at her hands. No rain drops on her skin. She looked up at the sky. It was clear, blue, and beautiful. Lucy turned her attention to Juvia, who was staring at her with wide eyes. She had noticed it too.

   Juvia stepped outside, her wary expression turning into the most stunning of smiles. The happiness on her traits was so genuine that Lucy could not look away, not even to enjoy the peaceful weather or the way the sunlight hit the white walls of the houses. In that very moment, Juvia’s smile far outshone the sun.

   “Lucy... you brought the sun to Juvia...”

   The words filled Lucy with warmth and made her heart beat faster, she could feel it in her chest, dangerous and painful.

   “Lucy!”

   The exclamation shook her from her thoughts.

   “Will you let me come with you?”

   Lucy’s lips parted, but before she could say anything, Juvia was talking again.

   “Juvia does not want to let go of the sun. Please...”

   “You need not ask. You are my friend, and now you are my companion.”

If she didn’t love those two dragon-slaying fools, they would already be on the other side of the city, at the bottom of a ditch or a river.

Who cared if she treated Sorano well anyway? They weren’t dating for real, even if Orga thought so – shit, were there more Sabertooth members who thought it was a choice Minerva had made willingly? And trying to clear it up with everyone might not be the best of ideas; the more people knew, the more likely it was that someone would accidentally reveal the truth to Yukino. If Sorano didn’t spoil the whole thing herself…

Speaking of the devil, Minerva spotted her coming back from the pool, towel thrown over her shoulders. Drops of water still dripping from her hair. Minerva caught herself almost staring at the woman’s body, her eyes lingering on her curves a handful of seconds too long before she could chastise herself and regain her composure. To her great displeasure (and annoyance), Sorano made her way towards them and settled between Sting and Rogue, forcing them apart so that she would be right in front of Minerva. Whatever game she was trying to play, Minerva wasn’t in the mood for it.

“Looking good, Minerva,” Sorano drawled, unflinching as she stared at Minerva.

All Minerva did was glare at the woman, a desperate attempt to keep herself from imploding. She could not kill a guildmate. Or even hurt a guildmate. And especially not a guildmate she was pretending to date. Could a dragon come back to life and eat her alive?

“Your girlfriend’s complimenting you, the least you could do is thank her, Princess.”

Minerva focused her glare on Sting. That asshole. Were Guild Masters supposed to have fun at the expanse of their friends? Most likely not. Minerva waved a hand, and, in a flash of lights, Sting and Sorano were gone. Much better.

“Where did you send them?” Rogue inquired.

“Just somewhere they can freshen up. They’ll be back soon.”

And, as if to confirm her words, screams were heard from the swimming pool area. To any outsider, it might have sounded like pure madness, but to Sabertooth members, it sounded like their very frustrated Master and a dash of feathered weirdo. Minerva smiled, satisfied with her little trick – it was far being the first time she sent either of them into the pool and it wouldn’t be the last.

Sting was still drying himself off when Yukino and Rufus came back from their mission. Sorano had, according to Sting, decided to stay in the pool instead of bothering to get out of the water. It didn’t take long for Sorano’s ‘little sister detector’ to be set off, though, as she appeared, drenched from head to toe, barely five minutes after Yukino’s return.

Minerva ended up being pushed to the end of a bench as Sorano was all too happy to sit next to her precious sister, sticking to her like glue even if she hadn’t bothered to dry off. Yukino had vaguely complained, but Sorano hadn’t listened – of course she hadn’t listened.

Minerva found her attention drifting off as Rufus told the tale of their brief quest; there was no surprise, things had gone as smoothly as they always did when he teamed up with Yukino. Those two were an unexpectedly compatible pair, and much less destructive than most Sabertooth mages. Sting had a lot more paperwork to do whenever anyone teamed up with Orga, but at least it made for interesting stories.

Too distracted by thoughts of wanting to go on a S-Quest (she had spotted one about a small dark guild that had been on their board for about a month now and that nobody seemed interested in for whatever reason), Minerva hadn’t noticed that the conversation had shifted to a different subject until Rogue had called her name.

“Don’t you want to take Sorano with you on a mission?”

“No.”

“Harsh,” Sorano mumbled, “you could have at least pretended to consider it, Princess.”

“Fro thinks so too.”

“I’d like to go on a mission with the two of you, though.”

Everyone at the table turned their attention to Yukino. Shit. Minerva had already forgotten that she was supposed to be dating Sorano to make Yukino happy. Maybe bluntly rejecting to take Sorano anywhere was not the best way to sell their (fake) relationship to anyone.

“Alright. Maybe.”

Not much happened after that. Sting and Rogue had decided to tease Minerva – she had expected that much – and Sorano had joined in on the fun despite Yukino trying to keep the situation under control. Rufus and Orga had had the decency to only be entertained by the situation. Probably because they both knew that Minerva didn’t let herself be teased without consequences.

“It’s getting late,” Yukino announced, “I should get home.”

Minerva took a glance outside, through the opened doors of the guild. The sky was darkening already. Rufus and Orga had left a little while ago to have dinner together, Sting and Rogue had followed not too long after them, citing that they were leaving for a job early in the morning.

“Want me to walk home with you?” Sorano asked, already standing up.

Yukino shook her head.

“Why? Are you seeing someone?”

Minerva scoffed. Of course, she wasn’t. Relationships were not her style. She didn’t like the people she slept with and she didn’t sleep with the people she liked, it was a very simple and reasonable way to deal with feelings. She wasn’t scared of commitment, obviously, she merely preferred to compartmentalize when it came to feelings.

“We don’t like each other.”

Sorano shrugged.

“Yet Yukino still thinks we’re dating.”

No matter how unreasonable and eccentric Sorano could be in general, Minerva failed to understand how she couldn’t see that their situation was messed up and that pretending to be dating would never be a good idea (or even a decent one).

And it would hurt to admit that Sorano did have a point. Especially after she had broken into her apartment without giving her an explanation. Saying out loud that Sorano wasn’t entirely wrong would only inflate her ego and make her more impulsive, probably. It was better for the sake of the entire guild if Minerva just didn’t openly agree with Sorano. Yes, for the sake of Sabertooth. Not her own ego.

“But our other guildmates will see right through the act,” Minerva argued as she got up from the couch, deciding that she needed to keep herself busy making tea to avoid strangling the other woman, and her open kitchen would allow for them to continue their conversation anyway, even if Minerva would have rather been able to end it right there, forever. “Yukino would be more hurt to know we’ve been lying to her about dating than if we tell her we aren’t dating, wouldn’t she?”

To her surprise, Sorano nodded in agreement.

“I’m sure we could convince Orga, though.”

“The man is as gullible as he is big.”

Sorano snorted.

“Besides, we wouldn’t be in this situation if you knew how to respect my personal space,” Minerva explained, arms crossed under her chest as she stared at her tea pot. “I should let you fix this whole mess on your own.”

“We wouldn’t be in this situation if you weren’t so promiscuous, Princess.”

“Promiscuous? Me? You’re the one who was knocked out by that Pleasure magic!”

Sorano merely shrugged at the accusation. She seemed shameless, but that shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Minerva. That woman always acted like that. So carefree… And when she wasn’t carefree, she was just plain careless.

“Rogue said it made you cry,” Sorano spoke, a smirk curling up the corners of her mouth.

Shit. Minerva turned her back to Sorano, a blush spreading on her cheeks. She would need to kick Rogue’s ass for betraying her like that. That idiot… he would pay. She would make him regret it.

“Can’t we just pretend to be dating for a while to make Yukino happy and then call it quits? We’ll tell her we just weren’t compatible?” Sorano offered.

As the water started to boil, Minerva couldn’t have been gladder to have an excuse to look anywhere but at Sorano. Was she really considering it as an option? It might not be that bad to pretend for a couple weeks and then go back to the way things were before. It would only affect things between them at the guild, around Yukino, which wouldn’t be all that bad. Minerva wanted to see her friend happy. But was pretending to date said friend’s crazy older sister a good way to make her happy? There was only one way to make sure and it was driving Minerva mad.

“Two weeks,” Minerva said, her tone leaving no place for argument.

“Perfect! You won’t regret it! I’m an awesome girlfriend.”

Truth be told, Minerva already regretted it.

“I’ll be heading home, then,” Sorano said as she stood up, stretching her arms above her head. “Oh, and by the way, you should really close your windows when you leave.”

Wait. Had she come through the window?

“I live on the third floor?!”

   Kagura finally faced away from the window to give her full attention to her friend.

   “I don’t hate you, Milly,” she assured, “We wouldn’t be having a sleepover if I did.” A shrug shook her shoulders. “I’m just frustrated we couldn’t find it.”

   Millianna offered her the brightest of smiles and wrapped her arms around her for a tight hug. Kagura was hesitant as she returned the embrace, body stiff at the physical contact; until recently, her brother had been the only person who hugged her.

   “Let’s play some games before we go to bed!”

   Nothing was more infectious than Millianna’s excitement and bubbly personality. 

   But even a night spent playing games and relaxing with her and the others couldn’t erase the frustration of a lost textbook. And having to walk in the snow to get to their campus in the early morning could ruined anyone’s good mood.

   Millianna was shivering, complaining about the cold and how inhumane it was to allow for such terrible weather to happen -- as if someone could magically prevent snow from falling. It wouldn’t surprise Kagura all that much if her friend believed that someone out there had powers to control the weather. And well, if such a person existed, Kagura would have happily driven a sword through their chest. Idiotic imaginary weather person.

   “Kagura!”

   She startled, her eyes falling on Millianna who was bursting with energy, nearly bouncing on her feet -- a sight that made very little sense so early in the morning, in the snow. A minute ago, her friend had been more akin a slug than anything else.

   “I’ve just saved your textbook!” she grinned brightly, so agitated by excitement that she couldn’t stay put. “You don’t need to murder me anymore!”

   “I never planned to murder you, Milly.”

   Millianna pouted, “Tell that to your death glare...”

   Kagura let out a small sigh; all she wanted to do was escape the cold and get inside the main building, but she was well aware that Millianna was too excited to care about anything.

   “How did you save my textbook exactly?” she asked against her better judgment.

   With a hand proudly settled on her hip, Millianna all but shoved her phone in Kagura’s face. She grabbed her friend’s wrist and pushed it away so that she could actually see the screen, though it did nothing to help her understand the situation. The messages she was looking at were confusing at best. Whoever Millianna’s correspondent was, they were terrible at texting.

   “What am I looking at?” she questioned, a frown creasing her brow.

   “A friend of mine found your textbook!” Millianna explained excitedly. “She says she’ll be by the weird fairy fountain in a few minutes!”

   The weird fairy fountain. Kagura was now standing by the ‘weird fairy fountain’, freezing as she waited for whoever Millianna’s friend was. All that for a textbook that Millianna had misplaced when they were in the cafeteria. In the end, it was all Millianna’s fault if Kagura was fighting against the cold, socks already drenched from the snow seeping through her shoes.

   Even if she might finally get her textbook back, Kagura couldn’t help but feel like today had to be one of the worst days possible. She didn’t even know what Millianna’s senior friend looked like. ‘She’s easy to spot’ was the only description, if so it could be called, that Kagura had received. What did that even mean? On their campus, easy to spot made little sense -- Kagura had seen a boy with pink hair, a guy so tall and large that he barely could get through the doors and Millianna herself stood out with her obsession with cat ears.

   At the sound of snow crunching under footsteps, Kagura turned on her heels.

   “Are you Milly’s friend?”

   Faced with who had to be Millianna’s senior friend, Kagura now understood what she meant. Surrounded by the halo of white created by the snow, this girl looked like an angel. The stark contrast between the purity of porcelain skin, delicate snow and scarlet hair left Kagura breathless and at loss for words.

   “I’m Erza,” the girl said, taking a few steps closer to Kagura, the discreet smile on her lips was sincere and beautiful. “I’m the one who found your textbook,” she explained.

   Kagura nodded, still unable to form a sentence or to even find words. She noticed a snowflake landing on the girl’s-- Erza’s hair, a star in a blood-stricken sky and she swallowed at the sight. 

   “Your name is Kagura, right?” the girl asked as she rummaged through her backpack. “Milly told me you’re Simon’s little sister.”

   “You know my brother?”

   Erza looked up from the content of her backpack -- it looked too heavy and full of things that one probably didn’t need to go to class -- and offered her a smile.

   “I have a few classes with him. He’s very nice.”

   Kagura watched silently as Erza struggled with her backpack. 

   “Ha!” she exclaimed suddenly, her expression triumphant as she managed to extract Kagura’s textbook from her bag. “Finally!”

   Kagura reached for the textbook, and when her fingers brushed against the warmth of Erza’s hand, she all but yanked it away, clutching the book to her chest as the beating of her heart became erratic.

   “You’re freezing, you should hurry inside.”

   The softness on Erza’s face could have melted anything, except for the snow that stubbornly stuck to her red hair. Kagura opened her mouth, hesitating. She knew that she needed to be polite but thanking the other girl would mean putting an end to this conversation, having to say goodbye and potentially never having an excuse to talk to Erza again.

   “Thank you. For taking the time to bring it back to me.” Kagura bit on her lip, unable to meet Erza’s eyes.

   “It’s nothing, really!”

   Kagura looked up at the girl’s face, and for a moment, they stared at each other in complete silence. It seemed like neither of them had the rights words to say.

   “Hey! Erza! Stop flirting and get your ass here!”

   Kagura searched behind Erza to find who had called out for her; it was another senior, one whose hair almost blended in the color of the snow. Was she really wearing a crop top and leather jacket in the middle of winter?

   “Shut up, Mira! I’m not flirting!”

   "She’s your type and you’re flirting!”

   Kagura could feel her face burning in spite of the cold, and Erza’s face had turned a bright red that matched her hair.

   “Ignore her, she’s weird,” Erza said, her voice lower and more hesitant than before. Her smile was shy now, but still as pretty.

   “I’m friends with Milly, I’m used to weird.”

   Erza chuckled.

   “Can I be bold?” Erza asked, and, confused, Kagura blinked. “Can I have your number?”

   What was happening?

   “In case you lose your book again, you know,” Erza added, averting her eyes.

   Kagura bit back a smile. Whatever was happening, she was pleased with the situation. Exchanging numbers with someone she had just met wasn’t something that she usually did, but if this girl was friends with Simon and Milly, she couldn’t be bad.

   And maybe Kagura was looking for an excuse to talk to her.

   “But if you don’t mind, I might not wait for you to lose your book to text you.”

   “I wouldn’t mind.”

   Erza nodded in the most solemn of manners.

   “I will text you soon, then, Kagura.”

   “Thanks again for the book, Erza.”

Minerva scoffed. If that was the best Sorano could do… She sighed and shook her head. She needed to remain calm and avoid creating unnecessary arguments. Separating herself from the woman she had been under her father’s grip remained her goal. And Yukino, while misunderstanding her relationship with Sorano, did ask the two of them to be professional. When had it become a habit for everyone at the guild to be so mindful of Yukino and her feelings? Maybe when she had slapped Sting?

As Sorano left her to head for the swimming pool, Minerva watched. And from the corner of her eye, she could spot several other members watching— staring at her body. Minerva wasn’t stubborn enough about her dislike of the woman to try to deny that she was attractive, that would have been entirely futile. And the provocative outfits Sorano favored were something that the men (and not just the men, really) of Sabertooth seemed to enjoy a lot. Too much, possibly. It seemed that many forgot her past as an extremely dangerous and powerful mage, too distracted by a deep cleavage shoved into their face.

Minerva never forgot though. Could never forget how similar their paths had been. Could never forget that she had had it much easier than Sorano after all she had done. Maybe it was the reason that she couldn’t stand spending time with her, the constant reminder and guilt. She almost laughed at herself.

Of course, it wasn’t that. Sorano was just bratty and obnoxious and noisy.

Before she saw him, Minerva felt Sting sit down next to her, just where Sorano had been moments ago. What was it with people sitting down so close to her without asking for permission first?

“Another argument with your girlfriend?” he questioned, and Minerva could hear the all too obvious pleasure he was taking.

“Don’t start that, Master Crybaby. And stop listening to my private conversations.”

Sting grinned at her.

“Yukino actually told me she thought you were dating Sorano,” he started to explain, “and like a good Guild Master, I told her that she should confront the two of you about it!”

“Why didn’t you just tell her that we weren’t dating?” Minerva couldn’t help rising her voice, catching the attention of too many members in the process.

“And why didn’t you do it yourself, Princess?”

Rather than acknowledge Sting and give him the reaction he wished for, Minerva got up. She needed to get away from this mess. Any other day, she might have gone for a swim, but with Sorano there, she would never be able to relax. A stroll downtown would have to do.

No matter how long she had lived in the city, it had never become a territory that felt familiar to her; she had spent years only going from home to Sabertooth without bothering to explore more than a handful of streets that weren’t on the way. She had never taken the time or thought that it was worth it to explore the city. Minerva knew where the best magic shop was, knew where to get clothes that fit her, knew where the most renown restaurant in the city was. She had, until very recently, felt like it was more than enough – especially when she used to spend more time on missions than in town.

Since coming back to Sabertooth, she had learned to spend more time around the people who cared about her. Sting and Rogue had tried most of the restaurants of the city with Lector and Frosch by their side and Yukino had a few favorite coffee shops and stores that she had been all too happy to recommend to her.

The city, while remaining somewhat of an uncharted territory, had become much more familiar over the past year. And it had been enough to help with her sour mood.

Still, Minerva couldn’t wait to find the comfort of her apartment again; taking a long, warm bath was exactly what she needed right now.

But the second she placed her hand on the door handle of the small building she lived in, Minerva could sense that something was off. She tried her best to push aside the feeling; after all, she had a couple of neighbors, one of them being a young man who enjoyed female company a bit too much – maybe it was just today’s conquest whose presence she felt.

“I’m home,” she called out of habit as she stepped inside her apartment, even if her stupid cat didn’t really care about her existence unless it was dinner time.

“Welcome home, honey!”

Minerva froze in the entrance of her home. That voice. A shiver ran up her spine.

“Sorano.”

The woman waved at her.

What was happening? What was that woman doing here? And how had she even gotten here in first place?

“Get out.”

“Nope.”

“Get out before I throw you out the window.”

“We need to talk.”

Minerva rolled her eyes. She had absolutely no desire to listen to Sorano.

“About Yukino,” Sorano added.

While the urge to just throw Sorano out of her apartment and accidentally hurting her was hard to resist, Minerva slammed her door shut.