After the Battle, Back to the Festival
Lanterns glowed warm along Magnolia's streets as the Harvest Fest wound down. Team members moved through the crowd, returning smiles and clasped hands. They found Makarov near the square, speaking with guards.
Erza (formal): "Master, we intercepted a Crimson Veil unit outside the town limits. They were led by Noctis—the Watcher. We repelled them."
Gray: "They weren't alone. Two elites and a pack of lackeys."
Lucy (steady): "Before he escaped, Noctis warned more will come... stronger ones."
Makarov's eyes narrowed, then softened.
Makarov (calm, firm): "I see. You did well. We'll speak in detail tomorrow. Tonight—enjoy the Harvest, then rest. You've earned it."
They nodded. Laughter rose again around them—music drifting from a nearby stand, the last vendors stacking trays, a sweetness of baked fruit in the air. For a little while, they let themselves be just a guild among their own people.
A Stumble in the Hall
Later, inside the guild, benches scraped and lanterns flickered low as the crowd thinned. Ryuji stepped from the table and paused—hand bracing the wall. A sheen of sweat touched his brow.
Wendy (soft, anxious): "R-Ryuji? Are you alright?"
Natsu: "You don't look great."
Ryuji drew in a slow breath, straightening.
Ryuji (quiet): "I'm fine. The fight—and the festival—took more out of me than I thought. I just need rest."
They exchanged looks. He gave them a small nod and slipped away into the night toward his inn. The others watched him go, unease settling where celebration had been.
The Doorstep
By chance—and worry—they converged at his inn: Natsu and Happy first, then Erza, then Gray, then Lucy and Wendy with Carla. They blinked at one another under the eaves.
Natsu (folding arms): "Oi... what are you all doing here?"
Erza (plain): "The same as you. We were concerned."
Gray (shrugging): "Figured I'd check."
Carla (dry): "At last, common sense."
Wendy (meek but firm): "I was worried..."
Lucy rested her hand on her keyring, sighing—then a heavy thud sounded from above. Wood creaked. Silence followed.
Natsu (eyes widening): "He's awake—"
Lucy (snapping): "Seriously?! You always barge in without permission—Natsu!"
But he was already moving. Erza stepped to the latch with him; Gray pulled the door. Carla exhaled, resigned. Wendy wrung her hands, then hurried after them.
Poison
They found Ryuji collapsed on the floorboards beside the bed, breath shallow, skin pale.
Wendy (dropping to her knees): "Ryuji!"
Erza: "Clear space."
Gray: "He's burning up."
Lucy (shaken, focused): "It's the needle from the fight—poison."
Wendy steadied her hands over his chest; pale magic gathered.
Wendy (canon phrasing): "Sky Dragon's Healing... I'll detoxify the poison."
A cool wind coiled from her palms, drawing the taint outward. Ryuji's breath hitched; color crept back into his lips. Carla watched the flow with a healer's eye and gave a small, relieved nod.
Carla (soft): "Good. Keep it steady."
Natsu (low, angry): "Crimson Veil..."
Erza (quiet steel): "They will answer for this."
When the fever eased, Wendy guided him to the bed. Lucy tucked a blanket over him; Gray set a cool cloth at his brow. Happy dimmed the lamp.
Wendy (hushed): "Rest, Ryuji. We're here."
They settled in around the small room—on chairs, against the wall, on the rug. Outside, the festival's last music faded into the night.
Keeping Watch
Hours later, the inn was still. The room breathed softly with sleeping mages. Wendy had dozed in a chair beside the bed, her fingers still loosely curled around Ryuji's hand.
Ryuji woke to lantern-glow and quiet. His gaze moved over them—Erza resting upright near the window; Lucy and Carla on the settee; Gray against the far wall; Natsu and Happy snoring on the floor. A small, surprised smile touched his face—no one to see it but the night.
Thirst tugged. He gently slipped his hand free, rose, and poured water at the basin. Cool air drifted from the window. He opened it and sat on the frame, looking out at Magnolia's sleepy roofs.
Ryuji (inner, steady): After everything... I'm not alone.
A floorboard eased behind him.
Erza (low): "You're awake."
Ryuji (turning): "I didn't mean to disturb anyone."
Erza crossed the small room and stood beside the window, gaze on the quiet street.
Erza (warm authority): "You did not. And you needn't carry this by yourself any longer. You fought. Now let us stand with you. That is Fairy Tail."
He blinked, the words landing where fear had lived. Erza put a hand briefly to his shoulder—gentle, protective. The sound of shifting blankets answered; the others were waking.
Lucy (soft smile, rubbing her eyes): "You scared us..."
Gray (gruff, relieved): "Don't do that again."
Natsu (grinning, a little hoarse): "Next time, yell. We'll come running—and win louder."
Happy (beaming): "Aye!"
Wendy hurried to him, relief bright in her eyes.
Wendy (quiet, full of feeling): "I'm so glad..."
Ryuji's breath caught; the room blurred. He bowed his head, and the tears came—hard and clean, the way a storm breaks. Lucy wrapped an arm around him; Wendy did, too. Erza drew them all closer.
Erza (soft): "It's alright."
They stayed like that—until the shaking eased, until breath returned, until night felt kind again.
Gray (after a beat, teasing): "Alright, alright. If you keep this up, flame-brain will start bragging."
Natsu: "Hey! I only brag when I win!"
Happy: "Ryuji looooves his guild!"
Lucy laughed; Wendy's blush rose; Ryuji ducked his head, eyes brighter than the lantern.
Morning Light
By late morning, they were making a small mess of the tiny kitchen—Erza precise with the knife, Lucy tasting the broth, Gray grumbling about seasoning, Natsu trying to sneak bread, Happy foiled by Carla's stare. A simple soup simmered; the room smelled like home.
Ryuji ate sitting up, still a bit pale, but steady.
Ryuji (quiet gratitude): "Thank you."
Erza (gentle): "Master said we'll review everything tomorrow. Today—rest."
Ryuji nodded. The old fear was still there, somewhere—but it was smaller now, held back by all these hands.
Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima/Kodansha. I only own Ryuji Kazuma and this fan story. Non-commercial fan work.