The afternoon sun painted Magnolia in gold as the lesson ended. Wendy set her instrument carefully down, and her stomach rumbled loudly enough to make Carla raise an eyebrow.
Wendy—she smiled shyly, a hand on her stomach. "Um... Ryuji... I'm kind of hungry. Want to go eat something?"
Carla fluttered beside her, tail swishing.
Carla: "At last, some honesty. You'd practice yourself faint if I didn't remind you to eat."
Ryuji hesitated. Crowds weren't his favorite—but the way Wendy looked up at him, expectant and bright, made refusal impossible. He gave a small nod.
Ryuji: "Fine. Let's go."
They drifted into Magnolia's market, where stalls glowed with color and steam rose from grills. The air carried the crackle of skewers, the sugar-sweet scent of pastries, and vendors calling over the warm murmur of voices. Wendy's eyes lit up instantly.
Wendy—pointing from booth to booth. "Look, Ryuji! Takoyaki! And candied apples—ah! Fried buns too!"
Ryuji followed at her pace—slower, watching her excitement more than the food. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
They stopped at a noodle stand, ordered two steaming bowls, and sat side by side on a bench. Wendy slurped happily, cheeks puffed with noodles, while Carla sighed like a long-suffering guardian.
Carla: "You're acting like this is a festival."
Wendy—smiling with her mouth full. "But it feels like one!"
Ryuji ate quietly. The noise of the crowd thinned around him as he watched her laugh. For once, the crowd didn't feel suffocating.
When they finished, Ryuji reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wrapped candy.
Wendy: "What's that?"
Ryuji: "Sour candy."
He unwrapped one and popped it into his mouth. The sharpness hit—jaw twinge, eyes squinting, lips puckering. Wendy blinked... then giggled behind her hand.
Wendy (giggling): "You made such a funny face!"
Ryuji rolled his eyes, a faint flush touching his cheeks. He held one out to her.
Ryuji (teasing softly): "Go on. Try it."
Wendy (hesitant): "I don't know..."
She finally popped it in. The sour spike stung her tongue and watered her eyes on contact. She squirmed, puffing her cheeks as if she could push the taste away, and Ryuji actually chuckled under his breath.
Ryuji (smirking): "Guess you don't like sour things."
Wendy (pouting, cheeks red): "T-that's mean, Ryuji!"
Carla shook her head, though a small smile curved her lips.
Across the market, a hooded figure stood at the edge of the crowd. His gaze fixed on Ryuji, unblinking. The frayed hem of his black cloak brushed the cobbles, and a silver-clasp sigil caught the light at his throat. Fingers tightened in the fold of the fabric—then he slipped away between stalls, as silent as he'd come.
Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima/Kodansha. I only own Ryuji Kazuma and this fan story. Non-commercial fan work.