Chapter Text
PRELUDE TO YEAR THREE
Juvia stays for six days in Gray's apartment. In those six days, he doesn't have anyone else over. In those six days, they both skip out on the costly classes they've been paying a fortune for. They remain in minimal contact with the rest of their friends. The reason for that, Juvia doesn't know.
But it's been good.
He only has one bed in the place. (No, nothing like that happens, though Juvia does spend fevered nights, red under the sheets, trying not to think of what would happen if Gray did cross the threshold to his own room, like he's done every night before this happened. She doesn't try too hard.).
It's the morning after that night when Juvia wakes, that she wakes feeling the presence of someone else in the room. When she gingerly rolls onto her other side, hair sweaty and still somewhat stuck on Gray's pillow, there's no one there on the mattress. The blanket's been tossed clear of the right though, up against her body. It makes her feel even hotter, even though the AC's blowing hard in her direction. When she places her palm on the empty spot, it's warm.
She gets up for the first time. Her knees feel weak. She leaves the room and rubs her eyes, remembers that she's never been in this apartment before but it looks just the way it's supposed to be. As if she's been here all her life. Beyond the door, there's the couch, and there's pillow there, part of a makeshift bed.
He must've slept there.
And in the next room, there's the sound of water pouring from the kettle.
Gray sits at his kitchen table, the one that goes half-used because of Erza. He has tea in front of him, and his arm curls around his mug to reach the keyboard he's typing away on.
Across from him, there's another steaming cup.
-
They spend mornings like that. Mid mornings watching the TV. Afternoons making lunch, though Gray tells her to sit aside at the table, where she talks and talks even though he discourages her by not answering, or just reminding her she should rest. He does the latter more. Sometimes he does it by stuffing food into her hand, even in her mouth, saying: "Might as well make up for all the food you gave me last year."
It's a bit obvious she's not really sick. It lasted the night, steeped a bit into the next day, but she's fine now.
(It's not brought up.)
For dinner, they keep ordering in, even though it's not good for Gray's student funds.
"Let me pay this time," Juvia insists, trying to shoulder past Gray to the confused, slightly scared delivery boy.
"Take this and run," Gray grunts to the kid, and he does run, probably not from Juvia's more than generous wad of cash and tip, but the dark, annoyed look on Gray's face that remains when he turns around with the bags in hand.
"Gray, let me set the table then," Juvia pleads, a wad of guilt lodging in her stomach.
Gray just tskes. "We can just eat in front of the TV like always."
Like always.
They do. Quite pleasantly. Even though Gray finds the Blue Pegasus Dating Show stupid, it's rather funny to Juvia. It's nothing serious, just fun and drama and obviously scripted (and rather lewd) remarks from the host.
Because the thing is, with serious love— it's almost always found in fate. Not like this show. When she says this, Gray doesn't not agree.
-
Here is something Juvia does not remember during these six days, and for many more days after them.
Completely cold, completely wet, Gray carries Juvia in his arms down the street. He doesn't know how long he's walked. It doesn't matter.
His heart is thudding so loud, that with her head leaned on his chest, it must be the only thing that's keeping her awake. She's delirious. Her words are slurred, but he listens, he always does.
She says, Does it have to rain every time, every year I want to get closer to you?
Do I have to confess every time?
He lays her in bed, not sure what to do about the dress. He stays by her side all night, meaning to leave but finding himself unable to.
-
It's on the fifth night, that Juvia's already assimilated to this, gets into bed in Gray's tee, and spies by the closet door: the fresh basket of laundry he did while she made dinner.
Above it, is her dress. Neatly hung. Pressed.
Blue as a clear sky.
It's almost like it watches her when she goes to sleep. There's that keeping her awake, and the scuffle of sound she hears at two in the morning, that makes her dart up in bed.
It's just Gray. Has he been here all this time? Juvia's vision focuses and no, he's at the door. He's just got here. Embarrassed to be caught.
"I woke you," he winces.
"It's fine, Gray." Something pulls, deep inside her. Whether it's exhaustion, that feeling she has when she looks at him, she doesn't know.
"I just— I just needed to get—" He gives up. Looks at the empty spot beside her; Juvia only ever sleeps on one side of the bed. "Can I—"
Juvia mutely nods, fully awake. He lays down beside her, and even with six inches, he feels so far away.
"I bet you missed your bed," Juvia whispers.
Silence. They're both on their backs.
"I'm sorry for taking it from you."
Silence. She turns onto her side.
"Thank you," she whispers.
And silence, still. Juvia reaches out, placing a hand on his cheek.
He places his own atop of hers. It stays there, covering it entirely. She feels his jaw clench. Sees it in the dark.
"Go to sleep, Juvia," he murmurs. "You have class tomorrow morning."
He moves her hand away.
In the morning, she wakes and he's gone.
She wears her dress to class. Everyone takes a second look, but it doesn't matter. The only thing she can think about is the fact that she woke up to an empty apartment without a note.
Doesn't matter anyway. Next time she sees him, it'll be fine. It'll be better even, with all that's happened. They'll talk then.
They'll talk then.
-
Erza sits beside her on the river, the one that runs at the bottom of the Hills Complex. She must've seen Juvia from her window, it's right under and close enough.
"Juvia," she says gently. Of course she knows what's wrong.
Juvia buries her face into her shoulder. It's difficult, trying to keep it in. Erza draws her closer, under her arm.
He called her when she got home.
I'm going away next term. Co-op job. They offered me a place in Avatar.
-
Some things about this world do not make sense.
Staying with Gray, she was sick. But she was happy.
Without him, she's fine. But she's not happy.
What is sickness if it doesn't maim?
Patience maims. Patience is a sickness, enough in itself.
-
March. Life goes on. He calls her. He might be at a bar. He might be drunk. He hangs up, almost as quick as she picks up.
-
April. Classes end. He calls once, twice, sounding a bit hesitant, but nonetheless to see how she's handling exams.
-
May. Gray should be back, but work wants to keep him on for a while longer. He explains this over text.
-
June. She quits Phantom. Starts taking over Cana's shifts at Fairy Tail when she goes off on vacation with her dad.
-
July. Of all the times she calls, of the few times he's been able to pick up— this time he does, he does it on the first ring. He seems just as he usually is on the phone, gloomy and tired, indifferent because of all the work he's been doing.
I want to come visit you, she says. With everyone.
We can come home together.
-
YEAR THREE
"This is a nice gym," Juvia says as she steps in, hands behind her back.
Gray wipes at his forehead, jerking around at the sound of her voice. Useless, because he barely even sweats. "Juvia," he says, like he's surprised, like he didn't mention he'd be at the gym before getting to dinner.
"Didn't think Mikage would have this many trees," she continues.
"Is it just you?" He looks behind her. There's no one else at the gym. One of the perks of working at world-renowned company, perhaps.
"Everyone's at the hotel. They're planning to browse town on the way to the restaurant."
"And you?"
"I can unpack later."
Gray presses his lips together.
"I wanted to see you," Juvia says quietly.
Gray shakes his head. "I was planning on taking a swim. I didn't think you would come."
"You should always assume I want to see you," Juvia smiles, not able to stop herself.
"Oh." Gray shifts on his feet.
"I can join you," Juvia says.
Gray furrows his brow.
Juvia shrugs, lacing her fingers. "I used to swim all the time. I miss it, actually. A lot."
She doesn't mind that she hasn't brought anything.
-
She strips down to her underwear and leaves her clothes on the locker room bench.
It's good that the pool's empty too.
She slips into the water and it's shockingly cold, but she submerges herself and resurfaces, raking her fingers through wet hair. It's growing out.
Her skin's numb, but she takes it as a challenge to pierce through the water again, swimming to the other end. When she gets there, she grabs onto the ledge for a breather, and hears the sound of crashing waves.
They swim in tandem for a while. Like talking, except they're moving. Letting themselves go.
When the water soaks in warm, Juvia goes a few more rounds back and forth before stopping in the middle of the pool, tipping on to her back.
She pumps her chest up to keep afloat, just like how her instructor had taught when she was younger, seven, still scared of drowning. Now she isn't. She could sink and keep sinking without an inch of panic in her. She twitches her limbs, ever so slightly, to tread higher. Her face feels cold with the crisp air. Water caresses against her ears, her cheeks; an unsteadiness that washes over her.
It's even harder to breath when Gray comes up beside her.
They watch the ceiling together. There's a skylight, but it's fading with the sun. The sky blushes as it pulls away.
"Juvia."
It takes her a moment to say, Mhm?
"I'll give you an answer when it's all over."
Juvia has to check that she's not drowning. She takes a breath. "When we graduate?"
"Then. Yes."
Silence.
"Let's do a breathing contest," she says, and drops right down.
She sinks and sinks and sinks. Blinks her eyes open and even though it stings, she can see the fuzzy outline of Gray's legs kicking around, frantic maybe, before he lets himself go, dropping down with her.
She grazes the bottom of the pool, skims her feet against the tiles. Crosses her legs and readjusts her weight, so she stays a bit more grounded.
Gray follows. He's so blurry amongst the blue of chlorine. His necklace glitters and drifts in the density surrounding them. He really never takes it off, does he? Juvia would laugh, but she'd lose her breath.
She's not even counting, but Gray seems to be. That's what makes it harder to stay under. He starts to flail upward, gaze caught on her as he does.
Not that it isn't getting difficult. Her chest tightens, so she tries to do the same with her lips, her control. She doesn't want to go up. Her lungs choke out in complaint, and bubbles flutter to the surface. Gray must see, because he comes crashing right back down, just as she coughs open her mouth.
A flurry of bubbles scatter around them as he grabs and pulls her back to the surface. They break through, gasping for their lives.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he snaps, trying to get a proper grip on her.
"I wanted to prove to you that I could wait," she mutters out, throat stinging.
"You—" Gray tenses his shoulders where her arms are rested. They're so close.
"I'm tired," Juvia says. If he closed the gap, they'd be kissing. "But I can wait."
-
At dinner, it's just like old times.
(They sit together, Juvia talks, Gray doesn't, and everyone laughs at something dumb Natsu does.)
Just like old times.
-
Third year starts in newborn Fall, and they spend a lot more time together. No one could know why.
Gray escorts her to class, she does the same for him. They talk about nothing in particular. About everything. People think they're dating, and even though Gray always takes the time to say they aren't, Juvia still blushes and grins, almost maniacally.
They walk the streets.
They find a cat and want to keep it, so much that they get to talking about moving in together, before the owner catches up to them and thanks them for being sweet to Frosch.
(Juvia considers visiting the pet store anyway, Gray's birthday is coming up.)
They go swimming again.
They spend entire days at the beach, buying popsicles and burning up on the sand. Gray likes to fish, so Juvia watches the water beside him on the dock, dazed, as if sh'es in a dream— until she is, having fallen asleep on his shoulder.
(He has a paler, untanned splotch from her imprint of her cheek.)
One day, she opens up her email to see that Lyon's sent something. This isn't surprising, they talk from time to time, but she has the read subject line twice before realizing this isn't something about a show he's watched recently, or a funny incident at work.
He's forwarded her a scholarship opportunity that his university's offering. It's perfect in words. About anything else, she would call Gray first, but this— this, she isn't sure about.
-
Lucy's always had life figured out. So she's the one Juvia goes to.
Juvia sits with Lucy on her plush pink couch, toying with the decorative lace coverings. On Lucy's lap, Happy curls up and rumbles against her thighs.
"What do you want, Juvia?" she asks, with her soft, honest smile.
It's not about ambition or goals or anything of the sort. Juvia would never give up what she wanted for a man, but there are the facts— accepting Lyon's offer would mean something. Accepting an overseas opportunity for another four years would mean something.
And it's not a meteorologist position. It's an offer for weather reporting.
But that goes into an upside: connections. Even though that path isn't what Juvia exactly wants. Even though it sounds good. Even though it sounds perfect, with its wages and boarding and destinations. There's so many pros and cons, Lucy gets confused and actually brings out a notepad to make a list.
Maybe Juvia's just stubborn. She likes keeping her promises.
Gray left her. She could do the same. They might be in a good place— but there's a part of her that wants to leave him waiting, just as much as she's done the past years.
(If he'd even be willing to wait.)
Juvia's about to say something when a familiar face slams open Lucy's bedroom door, screaming, "Is Juvia gone?"
The girls whip around to stare at a half naked Natsu, struck in place by the automatic answer he's been given.
Juvia blinks. "You said Natsu wanted you to catsit because he was busy," she says slowly.
Natsu snickers, barely nervous, but catches Lucy's trembling gaze (from anger or embarrassment? who knows) and disappears back into the bedroom, mildly intimidated.
"Lucy," Juvia says.
She's beat red, which is obvious even though she's trying to cover her face with her hands. Happy paws at her gently, like he misses her smile.
"Who in hell," Juvia starts to raise her voice, "brings their cat to a hookup?"
Then they burst out laughing, not caring if Natsu can hear behind the wall that separates them.
-
Juvia promises to not say anything, and she doesn't— but it gets out to everyone anyway, with a single misstep Lucy makes with her words.
It's that night, when everyone finds out, that Juvia tells Gray she's going to go.
-
They step aside, venturing over the window alcove. It's a nice addition to Fairy Tail; a renovation highlight that Kinana was proud to suggest. It's late, almost midnight. The gang always stays past closing hours (but at least Mirajane gets their help in shutting down).
So there's no one close. Everyone is still huddled at their usual table, Gajeel and Levy leading an ill-prepared rendition of a song that's been playing too much on the radio.
Juvia's sits down, leaning against the glass. Behind her, the city sparks with life. She'll be beyond all that in a month.
Why she took so long to tell him, she doesn't know.
"I thought Fiore was what you wanted your whole life."
Juvia's taken aback. She didn't think he'd remember things like that. "I don't know if I can stay here forever. I should open up my options—"
"Nevermind then." Gray crosses his arms. Not matching her gaze.
"I'm sorry for telling you so late," she whispers.
Gray shakes his head. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You're doing what you want."
Juvia squeezes the ledge of the alcove seat.
"Lyon's going too?" Gray suddenly asks.
"Yeah. For his own program." Juvia mumbles.
"He'll be with you the whole time?" Gray raises a brow. And for a second, his voice takes on an entirely different tone.
"No," Juvia blinks, "no, I don't think so. But we're— we'll be in the same cities."
"Why is he even doing this?" Gray scoffs. He shakes his head again in disbelief. "I—"
Juvia holds her breath.
"I thought you were happy," Gray bites out.
"I am," Juvia blurts, pushing off her seat.
Gray's shoulders lock up. Behind him, their friends fall into a chorus of song, threaded with laughter. Gray rakes his fingers through his hair, but lets his hand stay there, hiding his face from Juvia's gaze. "Then I'm happy too."
-
She doesn't cry during the meeting with her advisor.
-
She doesn't cry writing out the forms.
-
She doesn't cry during the ride to orientation, with Lyon at her side, yammering on about things she can't seem to absorb.
-
She does cry at the front steps of the university, unable to go in any further. Lyon places a steady hand on her shoulder— but it does nothing. She's not even crying that hard, just sniffling quietly until she isn't; she's choking back sobs and people are staring, entirely concerned.
It's just that— she can't. She can't step in. She doesn't want to transfer into another university that isn't Fiore's, she doesn't want to travel the world doing a shitty job she's never wanted to do. Juvia doesn't even watch the weather channel. She uses the Internet to find the forecast.
"Are you okay?" Lyon asks, and Juvia scrunches her face in confusion, because she's obviously not, but it also helps with holding everything back.
It's dumb, really. She keeps repeating that in her head. Her whole life, she's cried enough times to count on one hand.
First: when she broke her wrist due to a scuffle with an distracted biker;
Second: when her best friend dropped her for a vicious clique of popular girls;
Third: when her parents told her they were getting a divorce;
Fourth: that night, running away from Gray's arms only to end up in them;
And lastly: now. Not because of the pain she's feeling, not because of things others have done to her.
But because this was something she chose for herself.
Because all this time, this— this new opportunity seemed right. It was there. It was a chance. But for what? Her feet weigh heavy on the steps of the school she's supposed to be transferring into— but not as much as the facts of her future, if she does go through with it all.
So Juvia knows. She feels it deep within her heart, as cheesy and romantic as it sounds.
She loves her friends.
She loves Gray.
She loves Fiore.
And she loves herself, so to hell with this dumbass scholarship. She doesn't want it. She doesn't need it. She already ran away once, for a good reason, and found a place where she was happy. She wasn't lying to Gray. She's happy.
And she's not going to run again.
-
It's a bit embarrassing, going home only to remember that she's sold the place already. So, Juvia gathers up her nerves and goes up a few floors to step in front of Erza's door, who— entirely by coincidence— happens to open the door at the same time.
They both yelp in surprise. Juvia at the uncharacteristic ensemble her friend's wearing (for a date, perhaps?), and Erza— at Juvia's physical presence. Then she grabs Juvia into her arms.
-
She visits Lucy's place, Levy's, Gajeel (who is only a few steps away from Levy) and yes, they all agree that showing up in person is always ten times better than doing it over the phone.
Except for Natsu, who Juvia had assumed she'd get to soon because he wasn't at Lucy's. He's started to spam her phone with !!!!! texts and a flurry of ahjfhdksh and random memes in between, as is typical of Natsu. So he's happy she's back. Lucy must've told him the news, then.
Gajeel's watering Levy's plant babies as Juvia crouches by Lily's water bowl, scratching him behind the ears. "What are you gonna do now?"
"Hm?" Juvia perks up, and so does Lily when her fingers stop scratching.
"School," Gajeel grunts. "You went through all the transferring shit just to change your mind last minute?"
"Oh. Yeah."
"Not that I wanted you gone," Gajeel mutters, spritzing a succulent.
Lily scampers into the bedroom and leaves Juvia alone on the floor, dropping her fist on her thigh. Gajeel casts a quick look at her, inadvertently spraying the side of the shelf.
"It's good I didn't formally withdraw from the school yet," Juvia murmurs. She'll have to meet with her advisor again. And whoever else to fix this situation, in order for to everything fall back into place.
Gajeel just props back a mini-strawberry pot into place and utters, "Don't think I could ever see you on TV anyway."
Juvia sighs, smiling. "I'd rather be in a lab. Or the field."
Gajeel shrugs. "Okay, Doctor Seuss."
Juvia snorts. "You know he's not an actual doctor? Or a meteorologist with a PhD?"
Gajeel responds by attacking her with Levy's spray bottle.
-
She hesitates to knock when she comes to his front door. It takes a moment before she does, knowing she wants to see him more than anything.
"Come in!"
So it's unlocked. Typical of Gray. Loose with clothing, loose with security.
Juvia steps in, and it's just like it was a year ago. It's January now. It's been a while.
She steps into the kitchen, and there he is, washing the dishes. He looks up and stops. Water rushes against his hand, and smatters against the increasingly clean plate. Then he drops it into the sink with a muted thud.
"Hi," Juvia says.
"You're here," he says, completely factual.
"Yeah. I am." Juvia laughs out of nervousness. "I'm staying."
"What?" Gray asks, faucet still running.
"I— I can't go. I want to stay," Juvia stutters out, "I'm happy here, and I don't want to lose that. I'm not going to give that up—"
Gray silences her by closing the gap between them and wrapping his arms around her. And he really stops her, her and her heart, because he's never done this before and she's never felt this way.
(Simply, what she feels is home.)
Juvia wraps her arms around him too, trying not to cry for the sixth time in her life. Her fingers thread through his hair and she buries her face in his shoulder.
"Thank you," he says. And she laughs softly into his chest, her cheeks flushing with joy.
And she thinks: everything will be fine. Whether or not anything changes beyond this, Juvia is fine. She rather have this, more than loneliness across the world. Even though she's waiting, even though it's work, she's truly with him. Whether or not he'll gone one day, she's thankful for this. She won't forget it. What they have, even if it never grows; it means something. It's good enough.
They don't let go for the longest time.
And then Gray says, "Come live with me."