The afternoon sun dipped low over Magnolia, casting warm bands of light across the cobblestones. Their music lesson wound to a gentle close beside the river path, and the quiet between them felt easy.
Wendy—softly, a little hesitant. "Um... I'm getting kind of hungry. Do you... want to go eat something?"
Ryuji's cool expression barely shifted, but a flicker of consideration touched his eyes. After a moment, he gave a small nod.
Ryuji: "Fine. Just don't expect me to pick the place."
Carla hovered close, tail flicking with knowing restraint.
Carla (dryly): "At least you're learning to accept an invitation. That's progress."
Wendy's face brightened, and she gently tugged Ryuji toward the market street.
They slipped into Magnolia's bustle. Stalls steamed and crackled; vendors called over the hum of late-day shoppers; sugar glaze shone on pastries. Wendy leaned over one booth with wide eyes.
Wendy: "Look, Ryuji! Aren't those pastries cute? They even shaped them like little animals!"
He followed her gaze, unreadable at first—then the faintest curve touched his lips.
Ryuji: "Cute isn't the word I'd use."
Wendy puffed her cheeks in protest. Carla smirked, approving the small but undeniable warmth threading through his voice. They drifted to a bench beside a row of lanterns, a paper bag of snacks between them.
The crowd's laughter washed past—then something in it rang wrong. Ryuji's shoulders tightened. Across the square, half-hidden in the flow of people, a cloaked figure stood unnaturally still. A frayed black hem brushed the cobbles; a silver clasp at his throat caught a shard of sun.
Ryuji's breath thinned. Not again. He set the paper bag down and rose.
Carla (frowning): "Ryuji. Someone's been staring at us."
His gaze never left the figure.
Ryuji (low, cold): "Stay here."
He slipped into the crowd—quiet, quick, threading between shoulders and steam.
Wendy (startled, reaching out): "Ryuji—wait!"
Carla (sharp): "He's chasing them. Come on, Wendy—we can't let him go alone."
They pushed after him, weaving through baskets and billowing grill smoke. Vendor calls blurred; the clatter of a dropped crate jolted the air. Ryuji kept the cloak in sight, cutting past a lantern stand, skimming the shadow of an alley mouth.
Don't let him vanish in the alleys again, he told himself. I need to see his face.
Across the square, a familiar nose lifted.
Natsu (sniffing, startled): "...That scent—it's him! And Wendy's with him!"
Erza (stern, decisive): "We can't waste time. Gray, Lucy—come on!"
They broke into a run. Natsu surged ahead; Erza set the line; Gray and Lucy fell into step—Fairy Tail's rhythm forming in an instant as they followed the trail of their young guildmate and the boy wrapped in far too many mysteries.
Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima/Kodansha. I only own Ryuji Kazuma and this fan story. Non-commercial fan work.