Month: August
Year: X775
Ages:
Kaito – 10
Erza – 10
Mirajane – 10
Juvia – 10
Elfman – 9
Lysanna – 8
---
Rain swallowed the village whole.
It wasn't the gentle kind—the kind farmers prayed for. This rain pressed down like a weight, soaking roofs, flooding paths, turning the earth into thick, sucking mud. The sky hung low and gray, as if it had decided to never move again.
Kaito adjusted the strap of his pack as they crossed the village boundary. Water slid down his hair, dripping from his chin.
"…This is bad rain," Lysanna muttered, clutching her cloak.
Elfman nodded seriously. "A real man would still walk through it."
Mirajane laughed sharply. "You're shaking, Elfman."
"I am not!"
Doors slammed as villagers noticed them. Curtains twitched. Whispers cut through the sound of rainfall.
"Outsiders…"
"Don't let them stay long…"
"She'll notice them…"
"The Rain Girl—"
Erza's eyes sharpened instantly. "They're afraid of someone."
Kaito felt it too.
The rain wasn't random.
It leaned toward the village center, drawn there by something unsteady—magic without direction.
They found her near the old stone well.
She stood barefoot in the rain, dress soaked through, blue hair clinging to her shoulders. Water curved unnaturally around her body, never quite touching her face. Her eyes were downcast, unfocused—like she was listening to something no one else could hear.
A villager shouted from afar. "Stay away from her! She's cursed!"
The girl flinched.
Rain exploded outward for a brief second before snapping back into place.
Mirajane stopped walking.
Her breath caught.
"…That's me," Mira said quietly.
Erza glanced at her. "What?"
"That look," Mira continued, jaw tightening. "Like she's afraid to breathe wrong because the world might break."
The girl finally looked up.
Her eyes met Mirajane's first.
And for a moment, the rain hesitated.
"My name is Juvia," the girl said softly. "If you are here to chase Juvia away… please do it quickly."
Kaito stepped forward before anyone else could speak.
"You're not cursed."
Juvia blinked. "Everyone says that at first."
"They're wrong," Mirajane said, walking up beside him, rain plastering her hair to her face. "You awakened magic too early. Before your body or heart knew what to do with it."
Juvia stared at her. "…You're like me."
Mira grinned—sharp, wild, real. "Yeah. And I punch things to keep from breaking."
For the first time, Juvia smiled. Just a little.
---
They stayed in the village.
Not because they were welcomed—because they refused to leave.
Training began the next morning.
Kaito didn't throw spells at Juvia. He didn't overwhelm her. He sat with her near the river, rain tapping lightly against the surface.
"Your magic listens to your emotions," he said. "So first—you have to listen to yourself."
Juvia clenched her hands. "Juvia doesn't know how."
"That's okay," he replied calmly. "Neither did I."
They practiced breathing. Stillness. Letting the rain fall without pushing it away or pulling it closer.
Seconds became minutes.
Minutes became calm.
When Juvia managed to thin the rain into a drizzle for the first time, her eyes widened in disbelief.
"I did it…"
Mirajane whooped from the side. "That's my rain brat!"
Erza crossed her arms, watching carefully. "…Her control is improving."
"Of course it is," Mira said smugly, leaning closer to Kaito than necessary. "Good teacher."
Kaito ignored the comment.
Mostly.
Days passed.
They trained in the mornings. Rested at noon. Trained again in the evenings. Juvia learned to pull rain inward, to store moisture instead of drowning the air with it.
The villagers still watched from a distance—but the fear in their eyes slowly dulled.
At night, Juvia lay awake.
Listening to the rain she no longer hated.
Thinking about Kaito.
The way his voice never rose. The way he never looked afraid of her. The way he smiled when she succeeded—as if it mattered deeply to him.
Juvia will keep this secret, she told herself firmly.
These feelings are unnecessary rain.
Mirajane noticed anyway.
"You stare," Mira teased one evening, elbowing Juvia. "Hard."
Juvia panicked. "J-Juvia simply observes her teacher!"
"Sure you do," Mira smirked. "Just remember—I saw him first."
Erza looked up sharply. "Saw who first?"
"Nothing," Mira sang.
Rain fell gently that night.
Not cursed.
Not endless.
Just rain.
And for the first time since her magic awakened, Juvia slept peacefully—knowing she wasn't alone anymore.