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The room was quiet—too quiet.
Lucy stared at the ceiling, her hands folded on her stomach, eyes wide open despite the heavy pull of exhaustion behind them. She could hear the slow breathing of the others from the neighboring rooms, the faint creak of the inn's wooden beams with every shift of the wind. It was well past midnight, but sleep refused to come.
Maybe it was the nerves. Or maybe it was the way her chest ached with pressure, invisible but constant, like someone had set a stone there and forgotten to lift it.
She turned onto her side. Then her back again.
Still no relief.
She’d been lying there for over an hour, telling herself to sleep. That she needed rest. That tomorrow mattered.
But none of it helped. The thoughts just echoed back at her, dull and meaningless.
The truth was, no matter how much she smiled, how much she said she was ready… a part of her still doubted it.
The Tenrou Island incident had shaken her more than she liked to admit. Seven years lost—just like that. And then everything with the Celestial Spirits—her bond with them tested, strained, broken, and slowly rebuilt.
Now here they were again, standing shoulder to shoulder with the strongest mages in Fiore. And still, that quiet doubt lingered in the back of her mind—whether she truly deserved her place among them, whether she’d grown strong enough to stand on her own.
Her thoughts drifted to her mother. To the hope she'd clung to since childhood: that someday, she'd become someone her mother would be proud of.
She just didn’t know if she’d reached that point yet.
Lucy exhaled softly and sat up, the sheets rustling beneath her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and quietly grabbed a cloak from the chair.
If she couldn’t sleep, maybe a bit of air would help.
The hallway was dark and cool beneath her bare feet. She tiptoed past the other guild members’ doors, careful not to wake anyone, and pushed open the back door of the inn as gently as she could. The hinges squeaked, just slightly.
Outside, the night opened up around her like a blanket. Crisp, cool air kissed her cheeks. Above, the stars stretched wide—clear and sharp against the ink-black sky. The moon hung low, casting pale light across the inn’s stone patio and the quiet garden beyond it.
She let the door close softly behind her and stepped out into the silence.
And paused.
Because someone was already there.
Natsu sat against the far wall, arms behind his head, one knee bent, the other leg stretched out in front of him. His eyes were tilted up toward the sky, expression unreadable in the dim light.
He looked… calm.
Unusually so.
Lucy hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should go back inside and leave him to it. But her feet moved before she could decide, slow and quiet on the stones as she made her way toward him.
She stopped just a few steps away.
Natsu glanced over.. He didn’t move much, just tilted his head slightly to look at her.
“Can’t sleep,” he said simply.
Lucy smiled faintly, tugging her cloak tighter around her shoulders as she lowered herself beside him. The stone wall was cool beneath her, but the night air was gentler now, especially sitting this close.
“Me either,” she murmured.
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
Above them, the stars glittered — endless and scattered, a quiet hum of magic threaded through the sky. The city beyond the inn was mostly asleep, just a few lanterns flickering in the distance, the occasional sound of hooves or hushed voices drifting from other guilds who hadn’t yet turned in. But here in this little corner of the world, it felt like they were the only two people awake.
Lucy leaned back against the wall, mirroring his posture. Their shoulders brushed, just slightly.
“Since the Spirit World, it’s like I can’t slow down,” she said after a moment, her voice low. “Every time I close my eyes, my brain just… won’t shut up.”
Natsu didn’t reply right away. His gaze was still fixed skyward, mouth pressed in a thoughtful line.
She didn’t expect him to have an answer. He rarely did when it came to this kind of stuff. But being near him always made the weight on her chest ease a little, and right now, she’d take anything she could get.
A breeze stirred the leaves in the nearby tree, rustling them like whispers. Natsu tilted his head toward her, just a little.
“You worried about the games?”
Lucy hesitated. Then nodded.
“Yeah. I guess I am.”
Another beat of silence. Not awkward—just there. Breathing space.
“You’ll do fine,” he said finally, and it wasn’t teasing or overly confident. Just honest.
She turned to look at him.
And maybe it was the stars, or the way he said it like it was a fact written in stone, but something warm settled in her chest.
“…Thanks,” she said quietly.
He shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. But the corner of his mouth twitched upward, barely there.
They lapsed into silence again. The kind that didn't need filling.
The stars shimmered above them, a quiet hush stretching between breaths. Lucy curled her fingers in her lap, eyes tracing the constellations she used to name aloud as a child—long before she ever met the spirits they belonged to.
“I’ve been thinking about my mom a lot lately,” she said suddenly, not looking at him. Her voice was soft, but steady.
Natsu didn’t shift or speak—just listened.
Lucy exhaled slowly. “About what she’d think if she could see me now. If I’ve done enough to make her proud.”
The silence between them didn’t feel cold. It felt like permission to keep going.
“I used to tell myself that joining Fairy Tail would be enough. That if I followed my dreams and became strong, if I built a life that was mine, she’d be happy.” She swallowed. “But sometimes… I wonder if I’m really strong. Or if I’m just… lucky to have all of you.”
The words hung in the air, fragile and exposed.
Natsu finally turned his head toward her. “You’re one of the strongest people I know.”
No hesitation. No dramatic flair. Just truth.
Lucy blinked, startled by the certainty in his voice. “You really think that?”
“Yeah.” He nudged her with his shoulder, like it wasn’t even a question worth doubting. “You fight with your heart. You always have.”
Her breath caught for a second. There was something warm rising up in her chest—too big for words.
And then, just as she was about to say something—maybe thank him, maybe deflect it with a joke—Natsu looked up at the stars and said, quieter now.
“I used to dream about being the strongest wizard in Fairy Tail.”
She turned toward him, curious.
“But I think…” He paused, eyes narrowing as if trying to choose the right words. “Now I just wanna be strong enough to protect everyone. That’s my dream.”
Lucy stared at him.
He wasn’t smiling, not really. But there was this calm in his expression. A quiet kind of resolve she didn’t always get to see.
And that warm feeling in her chest? It ached now. Not because it hurt—but because it meant something.
They didn’t speak for a while after that.
The wind moved gently through the trees beyond the courtyard wall, rustling leaves in a hush that matched the steady rhythm of their breathing. Somewhere, deeper in the inn, someone snored. A window creaked. Time slowed to a softer shape.
Lucy shifted just enough to let her shoulder rest against his.
It wasn’t a dramatic gesture—not some sweeping moment of affection or confession. Just… comfort. Reassurance. Familiar warmth.
He didn’t move away. Just leaned into it like it was natural.
She let her eyes drift closed for a moment, then opened them again, staring up at the same stars they’d always known. Somehow, they looked a little brighter.
“Let’s win this thing,” she murmured.
Natsu grinned, wide and unshakable. “Hell yeah we will.”
His voice was sure, like there was no other option. And maybe, with him by her side, it really was that simple.
Lucy didn’t say anything else. She didn’t need to.
She tilted her head back again, gaze rising with the stars, and felt something ease inside her chest. The pressure that had been sitting heavy on her ribs, whispering doubt and fear, finally softened.
Whatever tomorrow brought—glory or defeat, laughter or pain—she wouldn’t face it alone.
And that made all the difference.