Chapter 21: Jobs and Annual Meetings
The Fairy Tail Guild Hall was its usual chaos. Tables slammed, laughter echoed, and spells occasionally exploded in the air for no reason other than Natsu's enthusiasm. Amid the noise, Menma Uzumaki sat quietly at one corner table, his back to the wall, reading a new job request from the mission board.
"Space fiends again, huh…" he muttered, eyes narrowing. His blue left eye glowed faintly with thought, the Sharingan's patterns hidden beneath layers of control. The black eyepatch over his right eye concealed the real burden — the six-tomoe Rinnegan — and with it, the storm that came whenever he overused its power.
The request detailed a cluster of magical distortions near the Fiore border, creatures born from twisted space magic. Menma had handled them before; their unstable forms were resistant to regular attacks, but his Space Devil Slayer Magic made him one of the few who could purge them entirely.
As he folded the paper, Mira approached the counter, humming softly. "Another solo mission, Menma? You sure you don't get lonely out there?"
Menma looked up, smiling faintly. "I manage. Besides, you'd just call me boring if I stayed around too long."
Mirajane giggled, leaning slightly over the counter. "Hmm… maybe. But you make things interesting when you're here. You know, we could always use someone to supervise Natsu."
As if summoned by name, a crash erupted behind them. Natsu's head popped through a broken wall, smoke trailing from his mouth. "Hey! Gray started it!"
"I finished it!" Gray shouted, shirt already missing.
Menma sighed, standing up as Mira's laughter filled the air. "You two never change."
Lucy, who had joined Fairy Tail just a week ago, tried to step around the chaos, clutching her keys protectively. "Do they always fight like this?"
Menma nodded. "Only when they're awake."
The laughter around the hall softened as Makarov's tiny voice echoed from the upper balcony. "Alright, my children! Listen up!"
The guild master puffed out his chest proudly. "It's that time of the year again — the Guild Masters' Annual Conference in Clover Town! As always, I'll be attending to represent Fairy Tail. But this year—" He pointed directly at Menma. "—I'm taking Menma with me."
Half the guild stared in surprise. Natsu blinked. "Wait, the meeting where all the boring old men talk?"
Gray snorted. "He means the important meeting, idiot."
Menma gave a polite nod. "Understood, Master. When do we leave?"
"Tomorrow morning," Makarov said. "And wear something formal. You'll be meeting the other guild heads — the pride of Fiore!"
The Next Morning – Magnolia Station
The sun bathed Magnolia in gold as Menma and Makarov boarded the train. Natsu, Gray, Happy, and Lucy stood on the platform, waving as the train pulled away.
"Have fun at your fancy meeting, Menma!" Lucy called, smiling.
Menma raised a hand in farewell, his long black coat fluttering behind him. "Keep them out of trouble," he said, eyes briefly flicking toward Natsu.
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?!" Natsu yelled before promptly turning green. The train's whistle echoed — and so did his stomach.
Happy fluttered beside Lucy. "Aye, he's motion-sick already."
As the train sped away, Menma turned to the window. The forests blurred past, his reflection staring back — blue eyes calm, but the faint pulse beneath the eyepatch reminded him that power always came with cost.
Clover Town – The Guild Conference
The hall of the Guild Masters' Conference was massive, lined with stained glass and golden banners of every major guild in Fiore. Master after master entered the chamber — from Blue Pegasus, Lamia Scale, Quatro Cerberus, and more.
Menma followed Makarov inside, standing quietly beside him. Though technically not a master, he drew curious glances from several leaders. His presence was calm but heavy, the kind that came from someone who'd seen too much.
Master Goldmine of Quatro Cerberus approached first. "Ah, Makarov, good to see you! And who's this fine young man?"
"Menma Uzumaki," Makarov introduced proudly. "My top-ranked S-Class mage."
Goldmine's eyes widened slightly. "The Riftwalker? I'd heard rumors you'd joined Fairy Tail."
Menma offered a small nod. "Rumors travel fast, Master Goldmine."
The older man chuckled. "Indeed. I must admit, it's comforting to know Fairy Tail has someone with such… dimensional experience. Things have been unstable lately."
"Unstable?" Menma asked, his tone shifting slightly.
Before Goldmine could answer, Master Bob of Blue Pegasus swept over with theatrical grace. "Makarov, darling! And who's this handsome one hiding behind you?"
Menma blinked, caught off guard.
"Don't mind him," Makarov grumbled. "Bob, this is Menma. Don't scare him off."
Bob winked. "Too late for that!"
Menma exhaled softly. "I'm… honored to meet you all."
Nightfall – The Dinner
The first day's meetings dragged long, filled with speeches about guild harmony, magic regulation, and dark guild threats. By the time dinner began, Menma was content to let Makarov handle most of the talking.
He sat by the window, sipping tea, gazing at the stars.
His thoughts wandered. The Dava Path…
For weeks, he'd avoided using it outside of emergencies. The Mirror Dimension was a dangerous place — silent, reflective, infinite. Each time he entered, it whispered to him. Not with voices, but with distortions — reflections that moved when he didn't, echoes that spoke half-seconds late.
Once, he had seen himself smile from the reflection when he wasn't smiling at all.
Even now, with the eyepatch concealing the six-tomoe Rinnegan, he could feel its pulse. The urge to peer beyond, to twist the veil between worlds.
He tightened his grip on the teacup. Power like this… it's not meant to be used lightly.
"Menma?"
Makarov's voice broke through his thoughts. "You're drifting again."
Menma blinked, regaining focus. "Just… thinking."
"About your eye?" the old man asked quietly.
A pause. "Yes."
Makarov sighed. "You've come far in controlling it. But remember — it's not your magic that defines you. It's how you use it."
Menma smiled faintly. "I'll keep that in mind."
The Eisenwald Incident Begins
The following morning, the second day of the conference, tension filled the air. Rumors spread through the hall that a Dark Guild named Eisenwald had been sighted near Oshibana Station — one known for assassinations and forbidden sound magic.
As the guild masters convened, a messenger burst into the chamber. "Urgent report! Eisenwald attempted to release a cursed magic—Lullaby!—during an attempted assassination!"
Makarov's expression hardened instantly. "Lullaby? That cursed flute?"
Menma's eyes widened slightly beneath the patch. Eisenwald… that's close to Magnolia.
Makarov said, "Team Natsu from Fairy Tail will interfered and will neutralized the threat!"
Then the counsel will give you full report on Eisenwald guild... The Counselor spoke.
Menma crossed his arms, expression unreadable. "Let's be fast."
"Yes," Makarov nodded. "I will contact Erza right away."
Later That Evening – Aftermath
By nightfall, the guild masters' meeting had resumed its focus, but the mood was heavier. The attack proved that dark guild activity was escalating.
Menma stood on a balcony overlooking Clover Town, moonlight catching his black hair. His reflection shimmered faintly in the window beside him — and for a moment, he saw the mirror dimension's faint ripple overlay his own world.
The balance between space and reality is thinning again… Eisenwald was just a symptom.
He turned his head slightly as Makarov approached, holding two glasses of brandy.
"Still thinking too much?"
Menma smiled faintly, taking a glass. "Old habits."
"Good," Makarov said, sitting beside him. "Because we'll need that brain of yours soon enough. The Balam Alliance won't stay quiet forever."
Menma's eyes narrowed, his tone shifting serious. "Then I'll be ready."
End Scene – A Shadow in the Mirror
Later that night, when Makarov slept, Menma stood alone again by the window. He lifted his eyepatch briefly — and the six-tomoe Rinnegan gleamed in the darkness.
The stars reflected within it like rippling water. The world seemed to slow. For a fleeting instant, the Mirror Dimension responded — the faint outline of another world pressed against his own.
In the glass, something moved — his reflection smiled again, a second too late.
Menma quickly pulled the eyepatch back down, breathing heavily. "Not yet… not again…"
He steadied himself. Tomorrow, the meetings would continue, but his mind was already on the path ahead — the growing darkness in Fiore, and the silent worlds beyond the mirror that were beginning to stir.