Mirajane - POV
A few days had passed since… 'the incident'. Yes, that incident. The guild still exuded a faint smell of burnt wood, infused with the chemical aroma of cleaning potions and the lingering ghost of a collective trauma that hung in the air like an inside joke no one had the courage to tell out loud. Cana, from time to time, would still let out solitary giggles into her barrel whenever she looked at poor Lucy, a constant and alcoholic reminder that the misfortune of others is, and always will be, the preferred fuel of my dear and not-so-discreet friend. Erza, with her usual efficiency of a general in peacetime, had decreed an unofficial rule, conveyed through glares that could cut steel: "No one mentions the Changeling episode again, on pain of special and intensive hand-to-hand combat training with me, without armour." And since no one in their right mind is mad enough to disobey Erza or to find out what she considers "intensive training," the rule was religiously followed by everyone.
But you could feel it in the air, a different atmosphere. A strange quiet, an almost suspicious silence, the kind of tense peace that Fairy Tail only experiences when the universe is recharging its batteries for the next epic-scale disaster or when Natsu is asleep.
And in the midst of it all… I noticed something else. Something small, subtle, but which, to my eyes trained in observing the nuances of human (and demonic, and celestial, and occasionally interdimensional) behaviour, was as obvious as a pink elephant trying to hide behind a lampshade. Or rather, 'someone'.
Lucy Heartfilia.
Since that fateful day, the blonde had seemed… different. Near Azra'il, she was a walking bundle of nerves, always cautious, maintaining a safe distance of at least three metres, as if she feared the body-swap could happen again through simple proximity or a misdirected magical sneeze. It was understandable and, I admit with an internal smile, a little amusing to watch. Azra'il, for her part, seemed to delight in her discomfort, occasionally making sudden movements just to see her jump to the side with a frightened squeak. Cruel. And hilarious.
But near me… ah, near me it was another story entirely.
She was more attentive, yes. But not in a cautious way, like when she's near Azra'il and her "don't touch me or you might become a tea ingredient" aura. It was the almost hypnotic attention of a sunflower following the sun, of a moth drawn to a flame. She always seemed to find an excuse to be near the bar, ordering an orange juice that she took an eternity to drink, just so she could stand there, watching. And when she thought no one was looking, that I was distracted polishing a glass or chatting with Macao, I'd catch her. Casting those furtive glances in my direction, huge brown eyes filled with a shining admiration and, immediately afterwards, an adorable panic whenever I caught her in the act and offered her a small smile. She would blush instantly, like a flower blooming in shades of red, avert her gaze with the speed of lightning, and feign a sudden and intense interest in a random knot in the wood of the bar. It was the unmistakable look of someone with a crush, one of those from a romance novel, desperately trying to hide it and failing so spectacularly it was almost an art form. And I, I must admit, was finding it… charming.
Lisanna noticed, of course. Lisanna, with her radar for matters of the heart, always notices.
"Sis," she said that morning, leaning on the guild's bar with that sweet, innocent smile of hers which, I knew from experience, was 100% a façade and a prelude to some teasing. Her eyes, the same colour as mine, shone with a mischief she had inherited directly from me. "I've noticed you've been buying a rather… alarming quantity of apples lately. Do you really think no one here at the guild has noticed?"
I slowly closed my little recipe notebook, maintaining the most neutral and impassive expression I could muster. "Apples are in season, Lisanna. And they're on sale at the central square market, that's all. A matter of domestic economy."
"On sale?" she laughed, a crystalline, bell-like sound that, in this context, was pure and simple provocation. "What an incredible coincidence! Or could it be that you only recently discovered, perhaps in a casual conversation, that Lucy adores apple pie, and, by some incredible and totally random cosmic coincidence, the entire guild has, overnight, developed a sudden and uncontrollable craving for apple pie every day of the week?"
Silence. A deathly silence. The worst part about having such a perceptive younger sister is that she's known you since before you learned to lie properly. She's seen all your phases, the rebellious punk, the scary demon, the gentle model, the patient mediator. She knows all your bluffs. And she knows exactly where to poke to make you blush.
"Lisanna, I am simply diversifying the guild's menu to please all palates, and—"
"Relaaaax," she sang, cutting off my flimsy excuse, and picked up her small travel bag from the floor, preparing to leave. "I won't tease you… much. It would be cruel. But since you seem to be so busy with your plans for… 'domestic economy'… and you'll need an extra hand today to carry your many, many apples from the market, I think I'll… hmm… go out with Natsu and Happy. They asked me to help with a supposed 'heavy transport flight test for flammable cargo'. Sounds important."
I arched an eyebrow, the scepticism evident in my tone. "'Heavy transport flight test for flammable cargo'? Is that, by any chance, code for 'let's cause a small, uncontrolled fire in a five-kilometre radius and blame some imaginary monster'?"
"Probably," she admitted without a shred of remorse, already on her way to the door. "But look on the bright side, it frees up your day and, I'm sure, leaves someone available to accompany you on your important shopping trip."
Before I could even ask who she was suggesting, she stopped at the door and winked at me, a mischievous and devilish glint in her eyes. "Lucy seems to be at a loose end over there, just writing in her little notebook. You two get along, don't you? I'm sure she'd love to help you with your shopping list… especially if it has apples on it."
And before I could formulate a single, paltry counter-argument or throw her into a Take Over to make her shut up, my little sister had already vanished through the door, the sound of a small, familiar explosion and Natsu's shrill laughter coming from the street soon after.
I sighed, massaging my temple with two fingers. Lisanna might have the appearance of an angel fallen from heaven, but sometimes, her soul was that of a demon disguised as sisterly love. A very, very clever demon.
The guild, with the departure of hurricane Natsu, was unusually quiet. And there she was. Lucy. Sitting in a corner, completely distracted, scribbling something in a notebook with an expression of intense concentration, the golden keys of her spirits hanging from her belt, tinkling softly with every movement. The midday light, strong and golden, streamed in through the window, illuminating her blonde hair and giving her an almost ethereal glow, like in one of those old paintings of saints. The slightly clumsy way she held her pen, the way she bit her lower lip when she was thinking… (Brilliant,) I thought, feeling a familiar warmth spread through my chest, a warmth I, out of habit and self-preservation, decided to completely ignore. (Now even the sun is conspiring for my embarrassment and to fuel my sister's theories. What a day.)
"Lucy," I called, my voice coming out a little softer and less imposing than I intended. She jumped in her seat, her whole body startling, nearly dropping her notebook in her fright, which, I had to admit, made me smile.
"M-Mira! Hi! You scared me! I… I was just… umm… studying new summoning spells! And… and writing… lists! Lots and lots of lists! Of… very important things!" She rushed to explain, like a child caught red-handed with their hand in the biscuit tin.
My smile widened. It was too easy to tease her. And terribly fun. "Brilliant. Perfect. Then you wouldn't mind making one more? I need to buy some supplies for the guild, and it seems my official little helper and sister has cruelly abandoned me for a fire dragon with pyromaniacal tendencies and a clear lack of safety awareness."
Her brown eyes widened, shining with a mixture of surprise and something else I couldn't decipher. "You… you want me to go… with you? Shopping?"
"Yes, come with me. I promise it won't be boring. Or, at least," I added with a wink, "I'll try my best to make sure it isn't."
The glint in her eyes was the same one I used to see in Natsu's when someone mentioned the word 'fight' or 'challenge'. As if I had just invited her on an S-Class mission to hunt for lost treasure on a forgotten continent.
"Of course! Yes! I… I mean, of course, I can help! No problem! I love shopping lists! They're… they're very organised! And important!"
A blatant lie. The most blatant I'd heard in a long time. But, I must admit, an absolutely adorable lie.
The city of Magnolia was bustling as always, a cauldron of life. Carts creaking, market vendors shouting their best offers, the smell of warm bread mixing with that of fresh fruit, the dust from the cobblestone streets, and the subtle electricity of magic that always hung in the city's air. I loved it, the vibrant, quiet chaos of everyday life, so different from the battles and tensions of the guild. Lucy walked beside me, a little awkwardly, trying to balance the two shopping bags I had, intentionally but with the best of smiles, given her to carry.
"You… you didn't have to give me everything to carry, you know?" she said, a little breathless, nearly tripping on a loose cobblestone for the third time.
"Oh, but I insist!" I replied, watching her out of the corner of my eye with contained amusement. "It's excellent physical training for a mage who spends so much time sitting and writing novels. Besides, you look cute when you're concentrating."
She laughed, and her face flushed instantly, as I expected. "Hey! And I can be delicate and strong at the same time, you know?"
"Delicate you certainly are," I murmured, more to myself than to her. But, of course, with her mage's hearing and my proximity, she heard.
"D-did you say something?"
I turned my face to the apple stall in front of us, with an innocent smile. "I said we need apples. Lots and lots of apples."
"Ah… apples…"
And so we continued, in a dance of little teases and nervous laughter, between fruit stalls, furtive glances, and a strange, unexpected lightness in my chest, which I stubbornly pretended was just the ordinary joy of a productive day's work.
"Are you sure you do this every week? It seems… tiring," she asked later, tucking a rebellious strand of blonde hair behind her ear, her face flushed from the heat and effort, but with a genuine smile on her lips.
"Of course," I replied, without even looking back, examining a row of tomatoes that looked suspiciously too perfect. "It is, in fact, the best part of my job. Shopping, bargaining, figuring out which of the vendors is trying to rip me off with inflated prices this week and, who knows, using a little of my charm to get a discount. An almost spiritual experience, I'd say."
"'Spiritual' isn't quite the word I'd use to describe haggling over tomatoes," she laughed, and in the middle of her laugh, she tripped on the step of a vegetable stall, losing her balance and stumbling forward with a small cry of surprise. Instinctively, as if my arm had a life of its own, it shot out, and my hand caught her by the waist before she could fall face-first into a pile of particularly large and uninviting cabbages. Her skin, even through the fabric of her clothes, was warm under my fingers. The touch was light but firm, just enough to steady her, to stabilise her. And, for an instant that seemed to stretch into an eternity, she looked at me in that way. Wide brown eyes, breath held, mouth slightly open, as if I had just recited a time-stopping spell and the world around us had frozen.
I leaned in a little towards her, a slow, perhaps slightly dangerous smile forming on my lips, savouring the moment, the proximity. "Careful, Lucy Heartfilia. If you keep tripping like this in such a… convenient way, I'm going to start thinking it's just a well-elaborated excuse for me to hold you again."
"I-I didn't—! I-I'm not tripping on purpose!" she stammered, her face turning, to my delight, an adorable and delicious shade of vivid pink, the same shade as some of the apples we had bought.
"Of course not," I smiled, letting her go slowly, my fingers lingering a second longer than necessary on her waist. "I believe you. But, if by any chance you were… you wouldn't need to justify yourself. I am, after all, a very, very understanding woman."
Her blush, if possible, reached her ears. Delicious. Absolutely delicious.
I confess, I started having too much fun with the situation. Every now and then, I'd run my hand over the apples, assessing them one by one with the air of an expert, and watch her out of the corner of my eye, trying to copy my movements with an almost comical seriousness, only to let half the contents of her own basket fall to the floor with a dull thud.
"Delicate and strong, eh?" I teased, with a smirk, as I bent down to help her gather the fruits that were now rolling between the feet of the other shoppers.
"Oh, shut up, Mira…" she mumbled, unable to hide an embarrassed smile, her face still flushed.
I was about to make another joke, another tease to see her blush again, when I heard the sound subtle, quick, almost imperceptible to an untrained ear, but unmistakable to someone like me who has had to deal with all sorts of people in all sorts of situations. The whisper of feet too light, of intentions too bad. Two boys, they couldn't have been more than fifteen, ragged, coming from the opposite direction, their eyes agile and hungry. One of them was preparing to feign a bump, while the other, with a swift and trained hand, was already targeting the bags and coin purses of the more distracted shoppers. Tsk. Magnolia and its small, predictable dramas.
"Stay close to me, Lucy," I murmured, and my tone changed instantly. The lightness gave way to a cold, silent steel, the gentleness to a veiled promise of pain.
The first boy bumped into her, exactly as I had predicted, and his dirty hand shot out in a swift movement towards the small leather belt where she kept a few coins for small expenses. Before his fingers could even touch the leather, however, Lucy faced him, her brown eyes, once so full of an adorable shyness, now sparking with an irritation that I, honestly, did not expect. And I swear I saw the air around her glow for a split second.
"Plue, to me!" The silver key tinkled in her hand, and in a soft flash of light, the small and adorable snowman spirit, Plue, appeared, spinning cheerfully in the air and letting out his characteristic "puun-puun!".
The aspiring purse-snatcher let out a high-pitched scream, not of pain, but of pure and absolute surprise, stumbling backwards at the sight of the magical, trembling creature appearing out of thin air, right in his face. Meanwhile, the second one, the accomplice, seeing that the plan had failed so pathetically, tried to run, melting into the crowd. But I was already in front of him, blocking his path, my smile now completely devoid of any warmth or amusement. Just cold.
"Robbing defenceless ladies in broad daylight, on such a busy street? It's a nasty habit and, frankly, very unprofessional, my dear," I murmured, my voice low and soft, as I held him firmly by the collar of his ragged shirt, lifting him slightly off the ground without the slightest effort.
He glared at me, the dread beginning to replace the arrogance in his eyes, and tried to strike a tough pose. "W-who do you think you are, eh, you witch? Let me go!"
I smiled. And, deliberately, I let a faint, tiny touch of my demonic energy leak through my fingers. Almost imperceptible to a trained mage, but for a frightened, magic-less boy, it was enough to make the air around us vibrate with an invisible pressure, to make the ground beneath our feet tremble subtly, the silent promise of hell opening up if he dared to persist in that attitude. The promise of a pain he couldn't even imagine.
"I am," I said, with a sweet and terrible smile, "the last person you should have chosen to provoke today."
The boy turned pale, the colour draining from his face. He stammered an almost inaudible apology, trembling from head to toe, and when I let him go, he ran off without a backward glance, as if Satan Soul itself were on his heels. Which, in a certain, beautiful way, it was.
I turned around, the cold expression melting away, replaced by my usual smile. And I found Lucy staring at me, dumbfounded, her eyes wide, Plue still trembling on her shoulder. "You… you didn't even have to transform! You just… looked at him!"
"Ah, Lucy," I said, approaching with a lazy smile, the demonic energy dissipating like smoke on the wind, returning to being just Mirajane from the guild bar. "Sometimes, my dear, the true secret of power is not to show all the strength you have in a grand spectacle of lights and explosions. It's just to make the other person imagine, in all terrifying detail, how terribly, painfully, bad it would be if you, in fact, did."
She blinked a few times, clearly trying to process whether that was a lesson in wisdom, a veiled threat, or, somehow, a flirtation. (It was all three, of course. Efficiency was important in all aspects of life.)
"You are… you are frighteningly charming when you want to be," she ended up saying, quietly, as if it were a secret that shouldn't be said out loud.
"Frighteningly?" I arched an eyebrow, feigning an offence I didn't feel. "I prefer just 'charming'. But, for you, I'll accept the extra adjective. If it comes with repeated compliments and, who knows, a well-made apple pie."
"I— that wasn't really— I meant—! It wasn't a compliment! It was… an observation!"
I placed a finger gently on her lips, silencing her adorable stammer, and laughed at her confusion, which was so transparent and so genuine. "Shh, relax, Lucy. I understood perfectly."
We returned to the guild near dusk, the sky already tinted with orange and gold, a promise of night. The streets were calmer, and the weight of the bags in my hands seemed lighter now. Or perhaps it was just the company. Lucy, her hair messy from the wind and a tired but happy smile on her face, looked at the horizon with an expression of peace that made her even more beautiful.
"Thanks for today, Mira," she said suddenly, her voice a little lower, more serious. "It was fun. Even with the little thieves and the part where you almost gave me a heart attack with that demonic glare of yours."
"Fun?" I asked, feigning innocence and adjusting the bags in my hands. "This, my dear, was a highly professional field trip between two dedicated Fairy Tail employees for the strategic replenishment of essential guild supplies."
"Ah, of course," she replied, playing along with a twinkle in her eye. "Highly professional. Especially the part where you called me a 'defenceless lady' and flirted with me in front of half the market."
"But you turned red. It was adorable," I said, with all the sincerity in the world.
"You… you really do it on purpose, don't you?" she asked, but there was no anger in her voice. Just a genuine curiosity.
"Probably," I answered, with a smile.
She laughed again, that light, genuine laugh that I discovered I could listen to for hours without getting tired. And in the middle of that laugh, under the golden evening light, I realised something that Lisanna, with her irritating wisdom, had perhaps noticed long ago: Lucy Heartfilia, with her kindness, her clumsy courage, and her stubborn optimism, was exactly the kind of bright, warm trouble that even an angel with a demonic past would gladly fall for, just to find out how far that light could go. And the idea, instead of frightening me as it should have, made me… curious.
When we finally reached the guild door, the familiar sound of chaos already leaking through the cracks, she turned to me, the evening sun reflecting in her golden hair and a genuine, slightly shy smile on her face.
"Hey, Mira… I can help you with the shopping again, if you want, someday," she said, a little too quickly. "I mean… if Lisanna is busy again with some 'dangerous flight test', of course. Just to help."
I crossed my arms and took a step forward, deliberately closing the space between us, tilting my head slightly towards hers, watching her eyes widen a little. "You know, Lucy… I can come up with much, much better and more interesting excuses than Lisanna being 'busy', if you want to accompany me again, blondie."
Her gaze was lost for a second – and then came the classic, adorable verbal stumble I had been waiting for. "I-I— um, I just meant—! Y-you know, as friends!"
"I know exactly what you meant, Lucy," I murmured, a smirk playing on my lips, savouring the blush that spread across her cheeks. "See you tomorrow, for the apple pie."
And, with a wink, I entered the guild before she could see how much that stubborn blush and her adorable confusion still made me smile, even hours later, like an idiot.
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AUTHOR'S NOTES
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Look… look… I just wanted to say that I survived my exam week.
A miracle? Maybe.
Divine intervention? Likely.
Pure stubbornness? Absolutely certain.
But anyway, now that my sanity has returned from the great beyond (more or less), I'm free once again to write this fanfic with the emotional intensity of someone who doesn't know how to ration their own creativity.
So get ready, because mummy's back. 😌✍️🔥
Now, about today's chapter…
Yes, my dear readers:
Mira really did go and flirt with Lucy at the market.
And yes, she really did buy too many apples.
And yes, she really did nearly give two young rascals a heart attack just by looking at them with that 'I'm cute until I decide not to be' energy.
Please, spare a thought for those kids. They need therapy now.
And can someone please tell Lucy that strategic tripping doesn't work when the person you fancy has demonic reflexes and questionable morals? Thank you.
Ah, and before you ask:
"Hannah, is Mira interested in Lucy?"
My love… she's not just interested, she's two steps away from making a heart-shaped apple pie for her.
And anyone who disagrees can take it up with Lisanna, who already knows everything and isn't the slightest bit concerned about hiding it.
The girl is chaos incarnate and I love her for it.
In the end, everyone got something:
Lucy got some free flirting.
Mira got an excuse to keep buying apples.
The readers got content.
And I got peace because MY EXAMS ARE OVER. 🎉😭
Thank you for continuing to follow this delicious madness called Fairy Tail + Romance + Controlled Chaos.
Keep commenting because reading your comments is absolutely my source of serotonin.
I promise that now I'm freer, the chapters will come out more frequently, or at least with more coffee.
Until the next chapter!
And remember: if someone looks at you the way Lucy looks at Mira…
run. Or kiss them.
Depends on the vibe of the day. 😌💖