At dawn the next day, a weak "tok tok" sounded at Erza's door.
She opened it—and blinked.
Shane was standing outside, and he looked wrecked.
The whites of his black eyes were veined red; dark smudges hung under them. The whole boy radiated drained, wrung-out exhaustion.
"You're up this early?" Erza was genuinely surprised. Since they'd met, she'd always been the one waiting until the sun was high to drag him out of bed.
"And what's with… that face?"
"I'm fine…"
Shane rolled his eyes weakly. He wanted to say "early" didn't even cover it—he hadn't slept at all.
The backlash from failing the True Name last night had lasted much longer than he'd imagined.
It felt like countless needles were stabbing into his skull over and over, wave after wave. It had tortured him half to death and back; even now, a sharp jab of pain flared in his head from time to time.
Forget sleeping—he'd even dispelled his usual "training" cloth wraps. That alone showed how bad it was.
The lesson was brutal enough that he'd straightened up completely. From now on, he swore, no more blind guesses without ironclad proof.
With his half-baked grad-school history, he didn't dare show off again.
That soul-deep pain was not something his small body could handle a second time.
Erza had just woken. She was still in a soft cotton nightgown, scarlet hair loose and mussed over her shoulders, eyes hazy with sleep. She stepped aside. "Wait a second."
Then she casually grabbed the hem of her nightgown and started to lift it.
"Whoa—whoa! What are you doing?!" Shane's scalp tingled; he forgot his headache and lunged forward to grab her wrist.
"Hm?" Erza paused, head tilted, eyes full of confusion. "Changing clothes. Isn't it obvious?"
The self-righteous answer made his throbbing head hurt worse.
He rubbed his temple hard, remembering how she'd calmly suggested mixed bathing before.
Right. He'd forgotten—this girl's grasp of biology was a perfect zero.
He took a deep breath, sat her down on the bed, and in the calmest tone he could manage, explained: the difference between men and women, the importance of privacy, why you can't just strip or change clothes in front of the opposite sex, and so on.
"Oh… oh… I see!"
Erza listened with wide eyes, her expression shifting from puzzled to thoughtful, nodding like a puppet.
Then she blinked and looked at him. "But if it's you… it should be fine, right?"
The direct trust left him speechless—not sure whether to be moved or exhausted.
After thinking and finding nothing to say, he just waved a hand, drained. "Forget it. Just remember what I said."
He slammed the door with a "thunk."
Inside, Erza stared at the closed door, then down at her nightgown, utterly at a loss as to what she'd said wrong.
After a while, the door opened again. Erza stepped out, now dressed.
For once she wore a light-blue knee-length dress; her hair was left loose instead of tied back, scarlet waves softening the usual sharpness in her aura.
Shane took a long look, opened his mouth—then noticed her staring straight at him.
He paused, gave up, and said helplessly, "…You look very nice."
A small smile bloomed across her face at once.
It was still early; the inn was quiet, most guests still asleep.
They lowered their voices and their footsteps, slipped down the hall, and out into the street.
Outside, a fine morning mist drifted in the air like gauze. Pale light pushed through the haze, painting everything in soft, calm tones.
The air was cool and damp; breathing it in cleared his head a bit and dulled the stabbing in his skull.
They had time and no rush, so they strolled along the damp streets, talking idly about where to get breakfast.
As they passed the river running through the city, Shane suddenly made a small noise; his sharp ears had caught a familiar sound from below.
He looked toward the riverbed and saw Gray—shirtless except for shorts—standing in the cold water, hands plunging in and out as he forced ice to form, steam rising around him in white wisps.
"…Ah, youth," Shane murmured under his breath.
"What does it feel like," Erza asked, watching Gray in the river, "having someone suddenly declare their goal is to beat you?"
Shane yawned and massaged his still-aching temple. "Not much of anything. I mean, I've lost to you before, haven't I? Nothing special."
The gap in power was objective fact. Being chased was their motivation, not his problem.
Erza thought it over and nodded.
They left quietly without disturbing Gray.
They found a small shop just opening and had a simple breakfast of toast, fried eggs, and milk.
Afterward they kept wandering Magnolia's streets. The mist burned off; the sun came clear and bright, falling on the colorful buildings and clean stone roads.
Now and then, an early riser would spot the Fairy Tail emblem on Shane's hand and call out with a friendly smile, "Morning, Fairy Tail!"
Being recognized felt… good.
Shane returned each greeting politely. He was tired, but relaxed.
"Taking a day like this, not thinking about anything—it feels nice," Erza said softly, tucking a few wind-tossed strands behind her ear.
Sunlight traced the line of her cheek and hair, outlining her in a soft gold.
"Yeah," Shane said, looking at her. "It really does."
She blinked, then smiled more widely, mood lifting even higher.
Judging that shops should be opening, Shane led her along a route he'd asked about the day before, to a storefront with a bold sign: Magnolia Property Info.
"What are we doing here?" Erza glanced at the sign and nodded to herself. "Renting? Makes sense. Staying at an inn isn't convenient, and it's expensive."
Shane shook his head, eyes drifting over the listings and their little pictures in the window.
"No. Not renting."
"Buying."
~~~
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