Kaia's heart did something undignified and complicated, and for once, she didn't try to argue with it.
Erza, for her part, could only wish she possessed such straightforward courage.
On the outside, she was composed: back straight, gaze cool, steps measured as she and Kaia walked the last stretch into Magnolia. If anyone glanced at her, they'd see the unflappable Titania, the infamous Scarlet, the S-Class prodigy with hair the color of spilled sunset. Certainly not a girl whose internal monologue was currently a cacophony of panic, confusion, and unhelpful commentary from the gallery of her own self-doubt.
Why did you do that, Erza? she chided herself for at least the sixth time since sunrise. Stroking her hair? Holding her all night? What in the name of all that is armored possessed you?
Worse yet, every time she looked at Kaia even out of the corner of her eye her heart performed a clumsy, traitorous leap, as if it had gotten ideas above its station. She should have been mortified. She should have been strategizing her next training plan, or at least preparing for Mirajane's inevitable attack. Instead, she was replaying the softness of Kaia's hair, the way the morning sunlight had touched her cheek, the little smile she wore just before waking.
It was…disorienting.
You're an idiot, Scarlet. And not even the fun kind of idiot. The dangerous, about-to-be-punched-through-a-wall-by-Mirajane kind.
They rounded the last bend. The guild hall rose ahead, all gleaming windows and riotous banners. Just visible over the rooftop, the gilded Fairy Tail symbol gleamed in the sun—shining, bold, and utterly oblivious to the emotional car crash currently unfolding inside one of its youngest S-Class members.
Kaia walked beside her, humming under her breath, hands tucked in her jacket pockets, doing a remarkable impression of someone who hadn't just spent the night being cuddled by the scariest girl in Fiore. Erza, meanwhile, suspected her own calm was a thin veneer over a churning sea of what-the-hell-am-I-doing.
She was just beginning to compose a speech about "professional boundaries" (and, possibly, the strategic importance of separate beds) when the doors of the guild burst open with all the subtlety of a magical explosion.
Mirajane Strauss barefoot, grinning, and already radiating the cheerful menace of someone with far too much energy strolled out onto the steps, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
The world, Erza noted, had a cruel sense of timing.
Mirajane's smile sharpened when she spotted them. "Erza! Kaia! There you are! I was starting to think you'd run away and joined a nunnery."
Kaia, wisely, sidestepped, eyes wide. "I, uh, need to go…do anything else."
But it was too late. Mirajane's gaze, bright as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs, fixed on Erza. "It's been a whole day since our last match. I'm starting to feel neglected."
"Neglected?" Erza echoed, already slipping into the familiar dance of their rivalry. "I'd call it 'mercifully uninterrupted.'"
Mirajane put a hand to her chest in mock offense. "Ouch. And here I was, planning to go easy on you."
"Don't strain yourself," Erza said, drawing herself up to her full (and, she hoped, intimidating) height. "Wouldn't want your magic to get rusty."
But even as she sparred with words, Erza's thoughts were a swirl of chaos. A day ago, she might have thrown herself into the fight without a second thought, grateful for the distraction. Now she was acutely, humiliatingly aware that Kaia was watching Kaia, who had seen a side of her Erza usually kept locked away under steel and duty.
Mirajane, of course, was oblivious to everything but the prospect of glorious, property-damaging violence. With a wicked grin, she activated her Satan Soul, magic flaring around her in black-violet waves. Her form shifted, eyes going wild and feral, power crackling in the air. For a fleeting moment, even the pigeons on the guild roof decided they had somewhere else to be.
"Fight me, Scarlet," Mirajane purred, her voice two octaves deeper and twice as enthusiastic. "Or are you getting soft?"
Erza snorted, drawing her sword in one smooth motion. "I could defeat you in my sleep."
"Then you'll have no excuses when I win," Mirajane replied, already circling.
Kaia, for her part, had ducked behind a barrel and was peeking over the top like a startled squirrel. Erza caught her eye, tried to look reassuring, and probably just managed "grimly determined." She squared her stance, all other worries fading beneath the clarity of imminent battle.
Some girls measured time in heartbeats, in sunrises and letters received. Erza measured it in the clash of steel and the surge of magic. Here, at least, she knew exactly who she was.
The fight exploded outward in a blur of movement and noise. Mirajane's darkness magic clashed with the glint of Erza's blade, shockwaves rumbling across the guild steps. A few passing townsfolk scattered with the well-practiced reflex of anyone who'd lived in Magnolia for more than a week.
Erza lost herself in the familiar rhythm: step, strike, dodge, counter. Mirajane laughed, swooped, her demon wings carving the air. They traded blows, insults, and the occasional genuine compliment ("Nice parry!" "You finally learned not to trip over your own tail!").
Kaia, meanwhile, gave an increasingly vivid impression of someone reconsidering all her life choices. At one point, a stray bolt of darkness scorched the barrel she was hiding behind, sending her tumbling into the open. She yelped and scuttled behind a stone planter, her head just visible above the petunias.
Erza found herself fighting with one eye on Mirajane, the other on Kaia, as if by sheer willpower she could prevent the world from unraveling further. This is ridiculous. Focus. She's fine. She can handle herself.
But the battle pressed on. Mirajane's attacks came faster, fueled by mischief as much as magic. Erza adapted, trading her sword for her Black Wing Armor and meeting Mirajane's wild offense with calculated defense. The world narrowed to two: demon and knight, tradition and chaos, the eternal rivalry that defined their youth.
Somewhere in the chaos, Kaia called out "Don't kill each other! The guild just got new windows!"and Erza nearly lost her footing laughing. Mirajane seized the moment, launching a barrage of darkness tendrils that wrapped around Erza's leg and yanked her off balance.
"Victory!" Mirajane crowed, only for Erza to slice through the magic, rolling upright in a single fluid motion.
"You wish," Erza shot back, and with a burst of energy, she countered, forcing Mirajane onto the defensive.
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to hold its breath. The girls clashed in the center of the square, their powers flaring in tandem demon magic and requipped steel, youth and promise, rivalry forged in fire.
Finally, the two broke apart, panting but grinning, pride and exhaustion mingling in equal measure. The onlookers guildmates, townsfolk, even a passing dog erupted into cheers.
Mirajane winked, dropping her Satan Soul. "Not bad, Scarlet. Not bad at all."
Erza nodded, feeling the last of her battle-fog lift. "You too. Maybe tomorrow, you'll get lucky."
Mirajane's grin grew wolfish. "Luck has nothing to do with it."
As the crowd drifted back into the guild, Kaia approached hair rumpled, expression halfway between awe and exasperation.
"Do you people ever do anything quietly?" she asked, shaking her head.
Erza felt herself smile a real, unguarded smile. "Not if we can help it."