The morning breeze rolled through Magnolia like a soft tide—banners half-hung, ladders clacking, vendors shouting over the rattle of crates. Fairy Tail's doors slammed open and the guild poured out to help, all noise and elbows and heart.
"Lanterns left, tables right! No, Gray, shirts are not optional for community events," Lucy scolded, pointing toward a stack of paper streamers.
Gray froze mid-peel. "Huh? Since when—"
Erza appeared behind him like a shadow with a smile that wasn't a smile. "Since now."
"Y-Yes ma'am." He tugged his shirt on with a cough.
Mira crossed the square carrying a box labeled "FAIR—DO NOT SNACK." Natsu hovered behind it, already sniffing.
"Natsu," Mira said, not turning, "if you eat the candied chestnuts before the fair starts, I will requip into Big Sister Mode."
Natsu's flames flickered out. "...Right."
Ryuji helped string lanterns along the front awning, his motions careful, eyes narrowed in concentration. Wendy held the ladder steady, cheeks faintly pink.
"Higher?" Wendy asked.
"A little," Ryuji said, reaching—then realizing how close their faces were. Both flinched, both blushed, both pretended they hadn't. Carla, arms crossed, cleared her throat in the vicinity of Mount Judgment.
Happy swooped between them with the grace of a chaos comet. "Aye! Rehearsal couple! Ryuji looo—"
Carla pinched his cheek and towed him sideways. "Inside voice."
Happy's eyes watered. "Ow—inside cheek!"
Makarov watched from his stool on the steps, staff planted like a banner. "Good hustle! Remember—tomorrow we host the town. Today we make it shine."
"Aye!" echoed half the street.
Rehearsal... sort of
Mira set two stools near the guild's front window, where afternoon light spilled warm across the floor. "Short opening piece tomorrow, something welcoming. Ryuji, Wendy—will you two play the intro?"
Wendy's hands flew to her cheeks. "We—um—if that's okay—"
Ryuji's gaze dipped. "I can... if Wendy wants to."
Mira's smile softened. "It suits you both."
They tried a gentle run-through—piano keys from the old upright near the wall; Wendy's violin easing in like breath. The melody—Song of Bonds—rose and settled, not loud, not showy; it felt like open doors and warm light.
From the bar, Cana leaned on her elbow. "Aww. Little duet of destiny."
Jet elbowed Droy. "He's keeping tempo with her shoulder, you see that?"
Droy nodded sagely. "Romance has a beat."
Lucy clasped her hands under her chin, whisper-grinning. "They're adorable."
Natsu, already swaying, sighed, "Kinda makes me hungry..."
Gray deadpanned, "Everything makes you hungry."
Erza folded her arms, watching over the room like a sentinel. The corner of her mouth softened. "Their harmony is stable. That will calm a crowd."
Wendy finished the chorus, bow trembling just a little at the last note. Ryuji let the chord breathe before releasing it, hands hovering above the keys.
"That was beautiful," Mira said. "Again from the top, then rest. Don't overdo it."
They played once more—cleaner, surer. When they finished, the guild didn't cheer; it was better than cheering. A warm hush held for a heartbeat, then the room exhaled at once.
Carla nodded, almost imperceptibly. "Acceptable."
Happy cupped his paws like a megaphone. "Acceptably in loo—ow!" Carla's tail flick was faster this time.
Wendy giggled despite herself. Ryuji looked away, ears red. "Tomorrow... we'll do it right."
"You already are," Wendy said, too fast—then blushed harder.
Setting the stage
By late afternoon, booths ringed the square. String lights zigzagged between poles; paper carp and sunflowers spun in the breeze. Levy chalked a welcome sign; Elfman pounded stakes "like a man"; Bisca and Alzack measured safe ranges for the prize-shoot stall; Kinana handed out lemon water to any wizard who forgot hydration was a thing.
Makarov signed a permit from City Hall, then tapped his staff for attention. "Final checks! Safety first. We're hosts, not hooligans—save the brawls for the training yard."
Natsu and Gray glared at each other, then both glanced at Erza and decided living was preferable to losing.
Mira clapped her hands. "Musicians and greeters meet here at noon tomorrow. Ryuji, Wendy—sound check in the morning?"
"Y-yes," Wendy said.
Ryuji nodded. "I'll tune early."
As the sun slid down, lanterns blinked on one by one. The guild spilled into the street to admire their work—color and light and the hum of a town about to celebrate.
That's when a small sound cut through the chatter: a soft metallic tink.
A hooded passerby flipped a coin at his knuckles as he sauntered past the lantern line—heads, tails, heads—catch-catch, a rhythm meant to be noticed and forgotten. For a blink, the coin flashed in the lantern glow, and the engraving was clear:
Half sun. Half crescent.
He palmed it, tucked it away, and melted into the evening foot traffic like he'd never been there.
Carla's ears tilted. "Did you see—"
Ryuji was already staring at the space the man had left, face unreadable, jaw tight.
Wendy followed his gaze. The lanterns swayed. Somewhere, a sign creaked. And Magnolia kept smiling into the night.
Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima/Kodansha. I only own Ryuji Kazuma and this fan story. Non-commercial fan work.