Makarov paused at the edge of the staircase that led to the second floor, surveying the chaos that was starting to brew in the hall. His weary gaze swept over the scene with the precision of someone who had seen (and stopped) this exact kind of madness more times than any man should ever have to admit.
Gray and Elfman were practically forehead-to-forehead, vibrating with irritation; Gajeel had already stood up, sharpening one of his iron claws with a crooked grin that was basically an open invitation to disaster. Levy was trying to drag him back into his chair, exasperated; Jet and Droy were inching closer just to "get a better view"; Cana watched from atop a table with a bottle in hand, mentally betting on who would throw the first punch.
He took a deep breath and released his magic power.
A heavy wave of magic crashed over the hall like a damp blanket.
"ENOUGH!"
The Guild Master's voice, even without shouting, made the floor tremble. Everyone froze mid-motion, like puppets whose strings had been cut.
The Master descended the last step with a sigh so heavy that half the guild fell silent on reflex.
"If you break anything again…" his voice rumbled, deep and exhausted, making every would-be brawler freeze solid, "…you're paying for every last jewel. Understood?"
Silence was instantaneous. Even Elfman, who hated backing down in front of any man, muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "yes, sir."
Makarov let out a second, even wearier sigh and walked to the bar. With a short hop he climbed onto a stool and sat beside Mirajane and Juvia, as if that tiny pocket of calm were all that remained between him and retirement.
"Mirajane…" he muttered, extending a hand without bothering to hide his exhaustion. "The usual. One big, ice-cold beer, please…"
"Of course, Master." Mira prepared the drink with her usual efficiency, though Juvia noticed that her smile still carried a trace of that strange emotion from minutes ago. "Here you are."
Makarov took the mug with one hand, swirling the amber liquid as if contemplating his own sanity slipping out an imaginary window.
"I swear…" he began, almost to himself. "You lot spent seven years frozen in time, came back with zero maturity, and debts I still haven't finished paying off. I'm just an old man. An old man. Why do you put me through this?"
Juvia and Mirajane exchanged a silent look—the kind shared only by people who have lived with Fairy Tail long enough to find it funny and horrifying at the same time.
"Because the Master loves everyone here, doesn't he?" Mira said softly, resting her cheek on her hand.
"I regret it every single day," Makarov answered instantly, taking a swig. "But yes."
Juvia took another sip of the pale blue liquid in her glass. Naturally, she caught the Master's attention, and he turned toward her…
"…Welcome back, Juvia. You look better too. I'm glad…" He narrowed his eyes as if reading something deep. "It was just like I told you, wasn't it…? All you had to do was give it a chance, and things would get better…"
Juvia blinked slowly, surprised by the direct comment.
"Yes, Master…" She gently set her glass on the counter. "Juvia… really is better."
Makarov nodded, as if he had known the answer before even asking.
"I told you there was no need to carry everything alone." He took a long drink, wiped his mustache with the back of his hand, and continued, "You young people have that annoying habit of thinking you have to solve everything locked inside your own heads. But sometimes… all it takes is one step. Just one step."
Juvia lowered her gaze, her cheeks tinting a faint pink.
Mirajane smiled from the corner of her mouth—not the teasing smile from earlier, but a genuinely proud one.
"The Master is right," Mira added, resting her chin on her palm. "Sometimes we just need a little push. And you took yours, Juvia."
Makarov frowned—not out of irritation at being interrupted, but out of curiosity. His gaze went from Juvia to Mirajane, then back to Juvia.
"From what I've heard around…" he grumbled, settling more comfortably on the stool, "…that mission of yours with Natsu did a world of good for both of you."
Juvia discreetly choked on air.
"N-Natsu-sama… and Juvia…? Yes! It was an important mission!"
The Master raised a white eyebrow.
"Sama, huh?" he murmured, swirling his beer in slow circles. "Interesting."
Mirajane tried not to react, but the corner of her mouth twitched—just enough for Juvia to notice.
"Anyway…" Makarov continued, returning to his natural tired-leader tone, "It's good to see you holding your head high again. And Gray? You two worked things out?"
"Yes." Juvia confirmed with a delicate nod. "We talked just before Juvia entered the guild. We're fine. Just Fairy Tail guildmates now."
The Master exhaled deeply, shoulders relaxing.
"Good. Good." He took another drink. "I like seeing my kids sort things out without me having to use Fairy Law to knock some sense into them."
At that exact moment, from the other side of the hall, a crash echoed.
"I TOLD YOU IT WASN'T TRAINING, IT WAS A REAL MISSION!"
"AND I TOLD YOU THAT PROVES NOTHING, YOU SHOW-OFF!"
Gray had his fist raised again; Elfman was holding Gray's arm in an iron grip; Gajeel was laughing his head off while Levy desperately shoved him so he wouldn't "help."
Makarov turned his head very, very slowly… and stared at the commotion with the expression of a man who had long ago given up trying to understand his own fate.
He looked at the mug in his hand.
Then at the fight.
Then back at the mug.
Another long sip.
"I'm going to die of stress…" he muttered.
Makarov rested his elbow on the counter, raised the mug, and took another slow swallow, as if the beer were the only barrier between him and a nervous breakdown. Juvia, noticing her own glass was empty, lifted it toward Mirajane.
"Juvia would like another drink, please."
"Of course," Mira replied, already moving with the speed of someone who knows every guild member's order by heart. "Same as before?"
Juvia nodded.
Before Mirajane could hand over the new drink, Makarov leaned forward slightly, eyes half-closed from fatigue but sharp enough not to miss an important conversation.
"And Natsu?" he asked in a calm, almost paternal tone. "How is he?"
"He… he's fine," Juvia answered with quiet honesty and calm. "Much better, actually."
The Master closed his eyes slowly, as if receiving exactly the answer he had hoped and needed to hear. A soft but profound relief eased his features.
"Good…" he murmured, setting the mug down.
And then, as if fate had been waiting for that precise second, the guild doors opened.
The silence that followed was so sudden you could hear Cana gulp.
Lucy walked in first, a smile on her lips and a faint blush on her cheeks. Beside her, walking with steady, calm steps, was Natsu…
But not the Natsu everyone expected.
No impulsive grin, no spark of childish hyperactivity, nor the depressive cloud that had hung over him weeks ago. His expression was calm, composed, and completely serious. The kind of look no one ever imagined on that face—yet somehow it fit perfectly. His clothes only heightened the impact: black sweatpants, a comfortable dark shirt… and the ever-present scarf completing the look.
For a moment, everyone thought they were looking at a stranger.
Mirajane froze with Juvia's glass halfway to her.
Juvia held her breath.
Gajeel actually widened his eyes and lost half a second before recovering his usual crooked smirk.
Makarov… opened one eye. Then the other, as if he needed to confirm he wasn't hallucinating from accumulated stress.
Natsu raised a hand and greeted simply, directly:
"Yo, everyone. I'm back!"
The entire guild blinked in unison.
He and Lucy walked toward the bar, snapping the guild out of its collective trance.
Gajeel was the first to recover—or rather, the first to decide to poke the dragon. With a wicked grin, he grabbed a chair and flung it straight at them, the most classic, barbaric, and utterly Fairy Tail greeting imaginable.
The chair spun through the air.
Natsu lifted his hand.
And caught it.
He didn't smash it. Didn't knock it away. Didn't set it on fire. He simply caught it, spun it once on his palm, and set it gently back on the floor beside the table that was missing one…
When everyone held their breath, waiting for him to charge, yell, or start a brawl…
He just gave a small smile and said:
"Be careful throwing stuff like that, Gajeel. You might accidentally hurt someone."
The silence that settled over the hall was so thick you could have cut it with one of Erza's swords.
Gajeel blinked. Twice. So shocked he didn't even retort or provoke the Fire Dragon Slayer.
Levy brought a hand to her mouth, stunned.
Gray completely forgot he was in the middle of a fight and lowered his fists in pure shock.
Elfman, Jet, Droy, Macao, Wakaba—everyone present stared at the boy in disbelief…
Had he really changed…?
Mirajane finally handed Juvia her drink… but didn't stop staring at Natsu for a second.
And Juvia… blushed.
Natsu stopped right in front of the bar, tilted his head slightly toward Makarov and Mirajane, and spoke in a calm, neutral voice.
"Hey, Gramps. Hey, Mira. Everything good?"
Makarov nearly dropped his mug, raising an eyebrow and studying the young man like he was some rare astronomical phenomenon.
Mirajane opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again… and finally managed only a slightly hoarse "Welcome back, Natsu."
Natsu turned to Juvia.
His eyes met hers for one full second—just one second—but it was enough for her heart to leap so hard it almost hurt. He gave that new, small, but warm smile.
"Hey, Juvia. Thanks for waiting for me…"
Then, without any fuss, he pulled out the stool beside her and sat down.
Lucy, who had been one step behind, frowned faintly—not truly angry, but with that subtle, familiar sting of jealousy. She quickly slid onto the stool on his other side, bumping her hip against the seat like someone staking territory. She muttered something under her breath…
Before anyone could comment, Natsu took a deep breath and said, completely naturally:
"Mira, what strong drinks do you have today? Anything you think is good works."
The entire hall's jaws dropped—some literally.
Even Makarov, who had seen the kid eat fire, punch Acnologia, start wars, and go toe-to-toe with Gildarts, froze with his mug halfway to his mouth.
"S-strong… drink?" Lucy repeated, scooting her stool a little closer to him, as if to confirm she'd heard right.
Juvia was the only one not particularly surprised; during their two-week trip, Natsu had shown he quite enjoyed strong liquor—something no one would have expected…
From the other side of the hall, at the table of Natsu's "rivals," the two finally seemed to snap out of their stupor at this latest revelation. Though he never minded alcohol, Natsu had always been the guy who preferred food made of fire (or real food) and juice—a "kid" in the eyes of the guild's other men.
"Gihi…" Gajeel let out a dry laugh, slamming his fist on the table. "Now I see the upside… Salamander grew up while we weren't looking?"
Gray, still processing, could only cross his arms and grumble:
"What's next? Gonna tell me he learned manners too?"
Natsu, unfazed, just gave a calm sideways smirk.
Mirajane, despite the shock, quickly regained her professional composure… though a curious glint remained in her eyes.
"Strong drink, hmm?" She placed a hand on her hip. "All right. I'll make something special. But I'm warning you—if you get drunk, I'm throwing you out the window."
"No problem," Natsu replied, completely unbothered. "I can hold my liquor."
And it didn't sound like bragging.
He sounded… like someone who actually knew what he was talking about.
Makarov drained the last of his beer and stared at him with a mixture of confusion and surprised pride. What had happened to the impulsive, innocent brat? Had he really matured after losing his best friend? Or had something—or someone—helped him grow up over these past two weeks?
Lucy, still trying to catch up, leaned toward Natsu.
"You… really want to drink? Since when do you—?"
He looked at her, and Lucy felt her face heat slightly at the unexpected seriousness.
"It's just a drink…" he said calmly. "No big deal."
Mirajane stepped away to prepare the order while the hall remained wrapped in attentive, almost breathless silence—not heavy, but brimming with expectation.
Because in that moment, everyone realized:
Natsu really had changed…
And it wasn't just a little.
______________________
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