x780 March. Location: Fairy Tail Guild Hall
Some people glanced toward the back corner of the tavern where Kazu sat alone behind a faintly shimmering dome. A barrier wrapped around his table like a glass bubble—no sound in, no sound out. He was hunched over a folded newspaper, eyes scanning lines with the same flat focus he used when dissecting someone's spellwork.
A couple of newbies took a step toward him, then remembered his schedule.
Break time was still ten minutes away.
So they waited.
This was the usual routine since last month. Kazu had been appointed to more duties, as promised last year. Now, he was not only the official advisor for mages in the guild, but he was also the mission advisor. People needed to get his approval before going on a mission. Makarov had shamelessly dumped that on him.
Kazu had set up his base at the corner, where most of the time he did his own stuff with full focus. During break times, he either approved some missions or answered some questions about magic.
Suddenly, the tavern door slammed open hard enough to rattle the cutlery. A young mage stumbled inside, breathing like he'd sprinted the whole way from the station.
"HEY! Everyone—look at this!" he yelled, holding a magazine over his head like a trophy.
The room went quiet. Several gazes shifted towards him.
The excited mage waved the magazine again. "Soccerror's new issue! Fiore's youngest S-rank! He's actually in it!"
A few people groaned. Someone muttered, "Of course it's him." Another said, "So, we are finally out of the rumour phase into a legit thing."
They all kept sneaking looks at the barrier. Kazu turned a page, still oblivious to the growing crowd.
At the far side of the tavern, Mira leaned against the bar, arms folded. Her expression was bored, but the tap of her fingers on the wood said otherwise. People gave her a wide berth—she'd already put two members through a table this week for "looking at her wrong." She looked at the magazine with interest.
But she didn't move. Not yet.
The minutes dragged. Eyes kept drifting to the board where Kazu's schedule was pinned—clean handwriting, precise times, no exceptions. His next break: Now.
The barrier thinned and dissolved with a soft shimmer of air. Kazu stretched his wrist once, like someone clocking out of a desk job, then finally looked up.
"What's the emergency this time?" he asked, looking at the surging crowd.
The dam burst. Everyone surged toward him with shouts of "Look at this!" "Kazu, you're famous now!" "Is that really you on the cover?"
The magazine was shoved into his hands before he could react. A stiff, overly-dramatic portrait of him filled the page—arms crossed, hood up, a wind effect he definitely didn't remember posing for.
Kazu stared at it flatly. "I look like an edgy delusional kid. Nobody's going to take me seriously anymore."
He sighed, folded the magazine, and handed it back. "Congratulations. You've successfully wasted your anticipation."
Before anyone could argue, he returned to the newspaper he'd been reading. This time, the barrier didn't go up—an indication that they could disturb him.
The group lingered, watching him read. The shift in his expression was small but noticeable: his brow tightened.
"What's up?" Gray asked, sliding into the seat next to him. Cana followed with her usual tired slouch.
Kazu rotated the newspaper so they could see the headline.
BORDER SKIRMISHES INTENSIFY — THREE A-RANK MAGES MISSING
Cana frowned. "Again?"
"We don't even share the border with them. They are crossing the ocean just to trouble us." Gray shook his head.
Kazu tapped the article with his finger. "Conflict on Ishgar's west edge. Alakitasia forces are pushing harder than last month. Fiore sent a small A-rank squad to support the perimeter. They haven't returned."
Gray leaned closer. "This reminds me of dark guilds. Aren't they pretty active lately? The Council's been on edge."
"Internal problems, external problems," Kazu said. "If this keeps up, they'll start asking for S-rank support."
Cana shot him a look. "You mean you?"
He didn't answer directly. He continued reading, scanning lines about damaged settlements and strained council votes.
"Ishgar and Alakitasia…" he muttered. "If Alvarez gets seriously involved, this won't stay small. Their elite forces alone could flatten half the continent."
His mind drifted to the anime about Spriggans. Though he didn't remember all 12 in detail, there was one who had left a lasting impression.
A red-haired woman.
Irene Belserion.
The creator of Dragon Slayer magic.
Someone who made the rest of the Spriggans look manageable.
'I wonder how far the gap between us is?' He pursed his lips, thinking for a few seconds before shaking his head. 'S-rank or not, I would get one-shotted. We are talking about a genius mage, who is a few centuries old.'
He bit his lip. 'If my presence did cause her to take action, then I need to find a way to deal with her. My only trump card is...' He glanced at Erza, who was talking with Natsu with a frown on her face.
Then he folded the paper shut.
"Well," he said, "that's a future headache."
Gray snorted. "You are overthinking it. We don't really have intel on their army. But, if they were that strong, they would have already taken over our country long ago."
Cana patted Gray's shoulder. "Cheery as always."
Kazu stood. "If anyone has mission approvals, magic questions, or something life-threatening to complain about, form a line."
They didn't line up. They mobbed him, fitting of Fairy Tail.
He took the flood in stride—one request after another, signing off missions, offering quick corrections to sloppy magic control, assigning adjustments like a strict but lazy teacher. It was routine.
With his Instinct magic, thinking becomes pretty fast. Multiple digits appeared and disappeared rapidly in his mind, their meaning understood instinctively.
Then the tavern door opened again.
A teenage boy walked in—dark hair, sharp eyes, a posture that tried a little too hard to look confident. He scanned the room, spotted Kazu, and made his way straight toward him.
The guild fell quiet.
"Um," the boy said, clearing his throat, "I'd like to join Fairy Tail."
Kazu looked at him for three seconds. The guild watched, expecting some sort of test, interrogation, or intimidating speech.
"Okay," Kazu said. "One moment."
He turned around and dug through the drawers behind the counter, casually moving aside paperwork, old mission receipts, a half-broken lacrima lamp, and—finally—a small box of guild stamps.
The boy blinked. "That's… that's all?"
"How hard did you think joining was?" Kazu asked, opening the box. "You want the emblem on your hand, shoulder, or somewhere you'll regret later?"
The boy didn't answer. He was staring at him too intently.
"You're Kazu Sukehiro, right?" he asked. "The rising star? Youngest S-rank in Fiore?"
Kazu gave him the tired look of someone who'd already been asked that question too many times in the last three months. "Unfortunately."
The boy's face brightened. "Then I'd like a match with you. A spar."
Before Kazu could decline, a shadow dropped over the boy's shoulder.
"First, you fight me."
Mira's voice was low, sharp, and very unfriendly.
The boy flinched. "W-What? I'm not here to—"
"You want a shot at him?" She stepped closer, eyes narrowed. "You go through me."
The guild stepped back instinctively. This was the Mira they all recognised—the one who didn't need to transform to look like a devil.
Kazu sighed. "Mira. Stand down."
She didn't move. Her gaze stayed locked on the newcomer.
Kazu tapped the stamp on the counter. "He's a new member. What got you so worked up?" 'Is puberty finally hitting her?'
Mira clicked her tongue and looked away, jaw tight.
The boy swallowed. "I—I wasn't trying to disrespect anyone. I just wanted to see the gap between us."
Kazu finally met his eyes properly. "You want a fight."
He nodded.
"It's been a while," Kazu admitted, rolling his shoulder once. "Fine. We'll go to the backyard."
Mira shot him an annoyed glance but didn't argue. She shrugged before walking out.
The boy blinked. "Wait—just like that?"
"You asked," Kazu said, already walking. "Try to keep up."
The backyard training ground was empty except for a few shattered targets and a line of trees bordering the fence.
Kazu stepped onto the dirt field and turned to face the boy. "Name?"
"Mest Gryder," he said, shoulders tensing. "And thank you for accepting."
"Show me what you can do," Kazu said. "I'll only defend."
Mest stared, unsure if he'd heard correctly. "Only defend?"
"That's what I said."
Mest hesitated—then the air around him rippled. His figure blinked out of sight.
Teleportation.
He reappeared behind Kazu instantly, arm swinging for a strike.
***
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