Year X777 — Late Spring
Location: Fairy Tail Guildhall
Age: Erza (12) | Ren (12)
---
The challenge began with a smile.
"…You've been staring at me all morning," Mirajane said lightly, hands folded behind her back, expression gentle enough to fool newcomers.
Erza didn't blink. "…You've been smiling too much."
Ren, seated at the edge of the hall with a mug of juice, nearly choked.
> This is how wars start, he thought calmly.
The guildhall hummed with its usual noise—laughter, arguments, clinking glasses—but a subtle tension threaded through it, like a string pulled just tight enough to sing.
Mirajane tilted her head. "…Is that a complaint?"
"…It's an observation," Erza replied.
Someone nearby whispered, "Oh no."
Another muttered, "It's happening."
Ren set his mug down carefully.
> Great Sage, he thought.
> [Analysis: Emotional escalation detected.
Probability of combat: 89%.
Recommendation: Clear nearby tables.]
Ren stood and quietly moved a chair out of the way.
Makarov noticed.
"…Outside," the Master said with a knowing sigh. "No killing intent. And no demolishing the guild."
Mirajane clapped her hands once. "…A spar, then."
Erza nodded. "…Agreed."
They walked out into the open training yard behind the guild, sunlight filtering through high clouds. Guild members followed eagerly, forming a loose ring.
Mirajane's smile faded—just a little.
Erza's posture sharpened—just a little.
Ren stood at the edge, hands in his sleeves, breathing steady.
In.
Out.
> This isn't a grudge, he realized.
It's curiosity.
---
Mirajane removed her jacket, folding it neatly. "…I won't hold back."
Erza adjusted her gloves. "…Neither will I."
Makarov raised a hand. "…Begin."
The air shifted.
Mirajane moved first.
Dark magic flared, pressure rolling outward like a wave. Her body changed in a heartbeat—white hair sharpening in contrast, wings of shadow unfurling as Satan Soul emerged.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"…She's serious," someone whispered.
Erza didn't flinch.
Armor flashed—steel forming around her with a ringing clarity. Not heavy. Not ornate. A balanced knight's set meant for engagement.
She stepped forward.
The clash came fast.
Mirajane's fist met Erza's shield with a thunderous crack. The ground beneath them fractured, dust leaping into the air.
Ren's eyes narrowed.
> Erza absorbed it cleanly.
Erza slid back a step—then pushed forward, blade snapping upward in a precise arc. Mirajane twisted aside, wing snapping out to deflect, sparks scattering like fireflies.
They separated.
Mirajane laughed softly. "…You're stronger than the rumors."
"…You're not," Erza replied evenly.
Mirajane's eyes sharpened.
They collided again.
Speed increased.
Mirajane attacked with raw power—heavy blows, overwhelming presence, demonic force pressing down like gravity itself. Each strike was meant to end the exchange.
Erza responded with control.
Armor shifted—lighter boots to pivot, reinforced gauntlet to block, blade reconfigured mid-swing to counter instead of cut. She didn't waste motion. She didn't rush.
Ren felt his breath sync unconsciously.
> Moon Breathing, he realized.
She's fully in it.
Mirajane leapt back, hovering briefly.
"…You're not afraid," she observed.
"…Fear clouds judgment," Erza replied. "I won't insult you with it."
That earned a sharp grin.
Mirajane dove.
Erza met her halfway.
Impact rang through the yard, shockwaves rippling outward. Several guild members stumbled back.
Ren raised a hand slightly.
> [Great Sage: Suggestion — Apply localized enchantment to stabilize terrain.]
Ren whispered the enchantment.
The ground steadied.
> I won't interfere, he told himself.
But I won't let it become reckless.
Mirajane twisted mid-air, landing behind Erza with impossible agility. A clawed strike tore toward Erza's back—
Armor shifted instantly.
A new plate formed just in time, the claw screeching across enchanted steel.
Erza spun, blade stopping an inch from Mirajane's throat.
Silence fell.
They froze.
Mirajane's breath came faster now. "…That speed," she said quietly. "…That timing."
Erza held the position, eyes unwavering. "…You rely on overwhelming force."
Mirajane's eyes narrowed. "…And you rely on precision."
"…Yes."
Mirajane slowly raised her hands, stepping back. The demonic aura receded, wings dissolving into light.
"…Then this round is yours," she said calmly.
The guild erupted.
Cheers. Shouts. Arguments about who really won.
Erza lowered her sword and exhaled.
In.
Out.
Only then did her hands tremble—just slightly.
Ren noticed.
He walked over, offering her a towel without a word.
She took it, eyes flicking to him. "…I didn't overdo it."
"…No," he replied softly. "…You were perfect."
Mirajane approached, now fully human again, smiling—but different. Respectful.
"…You're incredible," she said honestly. "…Fairy Queen suits you."
Erza blinked, then nodded once. "…Thank you."
Mirajane glanced at Ren. "…And you're watching everything."
Ren smiled faintly. "…It helps me learn."
"…You two are dangerous," Mirajane said lightly. "In a good way."
She turned back toward the guildhall.
"…Next time," she added over her shoulder, "…I'll win."
Erza watched her go.
"…I look forward to it."
---
Later, as the crowd dispersed and the sun dipped lower, Ren and Erza sat on the steps outside the guild.
"…She's strong," Erza said quietly.
"…Yes."
"…Different from me."
"…Yes."
She was silent for a moment.
"…Ren."
"…Mm?"
"…If I ever lose control… will you stop me?"
The question was quiet. Serious.
Ren didn't hesitate.
"…I'll stand with you," he said. "…Until you stop yourself."
She nodded, satisfied.
> This is why they call her queen, Ren thought.
Not because she dominates—
but because she asks.
Inside, Fairy Tail roared back to life.
Outside, steel cooled.
And somewhere between power and restraint, a balance had been proven.
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End of Chapter 37 ⚔️🪽