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Colors of the WIll 'o' the Wisps Chapter 6
🕑 Added 2022-05-14 03:21:25 +0000 UTCDespite how depressing I usually am, I’m quite the morning person. Sometimes I woke up late, especially if I went to bed late last night or shit happened, but typically speaking, I woke up before my favorite coffee shop did to be one of the first, if not the first customer.
Having already gotten my usual; an iced coffee with eight shots of espresso, eight sugarcubes, a bit of cream, and a lot of mint essence, I was almost ready to deal with the aftermath of my bullshit last night.
Not the bit where I fell asleep with Wendy and Carla on a public Bench. That wasn’t bullshit, so much as awkwardness. We had woken up at around the same time, finding ourselves cuddling one another. There was a beat, and next thing I knew, I was in the river, Carla was laughing herself silly, and Wendy’s voice was trailing away as she shouted ‘sorry’. I think what happened was that Wendy pushed me back in embarrassment a tad too hard.
No. I mean the other bullshit. The one where I snapped at Master Makarov for… I won’t say no reason because I had reasons and still have many reasons to be angry, but I snapped at him for a shitty reason in the shittiest manner possible.
Talking with Wendy and Carla last night made me realize that… maybe I’m not a complete asshole. I’m still an asshole, but not a complete one.
I just have bones, many bones, so many fucking bones to pick with so many people. Master Makarov for example, but I had bones to pick with everybody. Bones to pick with the rest of the Dreamers over the shit they left us to deal with in their collateral damage. Bones to pick with the Wisps who stayed because, yes, they’ve improved from the moping and ‘just waiting’ of the first few years without the strongest hitters of the Guild, but damned if I let them fall back into bad habits.
And I have a bone to pick with myself because what the fuck was last night? Collateral damage, that’s what. I got pissed, lost my class, and just let loose. No aiming, no thought, just sheer anger.
I’m an asshole, but I’m a classy one. I take my anger and I aim the damn thing. My passion is mine. I will control the rage. It shall not control me.
One last sip for luck, I pushed open the guildhall with a smile.
“Good morning!” I grinned. Fucking four hours of subpar sleep on a park bench outside, halfway through an eight-shot espresso iced coffee, I am so fucking ready to negotiate, argue, and debate my way to victory. “I have brought coffee!”
People groaned at how loud I was. Perfectly understandable seeing as most of them seemed to have just woken up to a nasty hangover. Perhaps I should’ve been quieter in my arrival, but I am feeling hyped, pumped, and actually ready for once.
The drunkards at the bar table had barely stirred. Precious few were alert, but Dad, Uncle Wakaba, and Master Makarov seemed to be having a discussion. Or were having a discussion. All three of them were looking at me with an undefinable look. I resisted the urge to flinch. That was definitely not a conversation I was looking forward to. The Connells weren’t here, but they’ll probably be here later. Good thing too. Didn’t want to have the conversation with the leaders of the guild around Asuka.
Pulling over a table, I cleared off the top and snapped my fingers to open up the Night-Black Portal that dropped an array of donuts, cakes, and pitchers of coffee. To the side, I put the plates and utensils along with access to the milk and sugar. That’d distract most of the audience hopefully. Or give them something to snack on while the drama happened. Probably the second.
As the zombie-like partygoers began to line up to obtain my meager offerings, I sipped my coffee. Should I just bite the bullet and talk to Master Makarov now? Or should I--
“Hey!” a voice shouted. Turning, I saw that it was Natsu with his fists alight. “Fight me!”
Ahah! A distraction I’m not scared of meeting a childhood hero of mine now! No longer shall awkwardness scare me, I have fucking espresso. Eight shots of espresso! Best see what he wants before I talk to Master Makarov.
“And a good morning to you, Natsu!” I nodded up and down, sipping. Small sips. Small sips. This coffee has to get me through everything today. “What do you want to fight me for?”
“For talking shit to the Master,” he growled, stomping through the line, “You left before I could beat your--”
I’m going to assume he was going to say something about beating my ass, but he had tried getting in the way of Laki and her coffee. Before Natsu could react, he was bound in a wooden stockade, arms held in place to the side of his head, and then kicked to the side.
Fixing her glasses and sipping from the pitcher of coffee she had commandeered, Laki glared at me as she declared to the guild, “If I have to do repair work on the second day of this party, I will dismantle this guildhall to the ground.”
“Natsu just got beaten by Laki!” Happy exclaimed, holding his cheeks in surprise.
Tossing his head back, Gajeel laughed, “Ha! Flame-brain just got--” The Iron Dragon Slayer was suddenly pulled down by his collar to stare into Laki’s slightly manic eyes“Huh?”
Side-eying the Dragon Slayer as she gulped down coffee, Laki scowled, “You’re an Iron Dragon Slayer, correct?”
Looking side to side in confusion, Gajeel answered, “Uh, yes?”
“Are your Iron Constructs Ephemeral or Eternal?”
“Huh?”
Huffing a bit, Laki rephrased her question, slowly saying, “Do your. Iron Constructs disappear after a period of time or do they stay?”
“Uh, stay?” Gajeel answered. He then stumbled back upright when Laki let go.
Patting his chest twice, Laki informed him, “You’re part of the Reconstruction Department. Add me on TomeWork when you get a Cat-Pad.”
“What?” Gajeel blinked before scowling, “WHat!? You can’t just tell me what to do!”
“I can and I will, Mr. ‘Former Phantom Lord’’ “ Laki mercilessly reminded him of his past affiliation.
Tucking away her book, Levy stomped in front of Laki to yell, “Hey! He’s better now!”
Looking down, Laki smiled softly, “Oh, I’m not angry about that. Not anymore, at least. I’m just exhausted being the only one having to fix EVERYTHING around here. It’s so nice to have another Molder Magic that can create Eternal class objects.” Blinking twice, Laki then grabbed Levy’s shoulder, causing the girl to squeak, “Tell me, can you also create Eternal Class Objects?”
“Uh, depends on the material?”
Leaning in, Laki purred, “Excellent. You too are now part of the Reconstruction Department. I expect to see you at our monthly meeting.”
While it was comedic to watch them flounder in the wake of Laki’s efficiency, I noted several things amongst the reactions of the guild. While the Wisps had all returned to their original activities, the returning Dreamers had all stood in surprise, some still gaping with a gasp. As I feared, there was a disconnect.
…Was it something to worry about? Probably not, but I am a paranoid idiot, so something to keep note of.
A burst of flames reminded me that Natsu was here. He roared, “Fucking fight--”
I’m going to assume he wanted to say ‘fucking fight me’, but a pile of ice froze over him as a naked man scolded, “This isn’t what we talked about, Natsu!”
Sizzling and melting, the ice quickly disappeared as Natsu escaped. Brushing off a bit of slush, Natsu growled, “But he was a fucking asshole to the Master”
“He’s also fourteen,” Gray shot back, “And remember what Erza said. We have to be polite.”
Clenching his fists, Natsu glared at me, “You were a fucking asshole to the master. Please fucking fight me.”
I sipped and smiled, “Fair enough! Thank you for being polite and not immediately attacking me ten. I would have hated to spill my coffee. I would love to fight you after I finish my business.”
Meeting my gaze, Natsu looked for something. He must have found what he was looking for because he snorted and stepped to the side.
Before I could leave, Gray stopped me, one hand on my shoulder, “Hey. Are you… really Romeo?”
What a loaded question. Was I Romeo? I technically died way back when when Mr. Zeref had accidentally killed me. That wasn’t even touching into the memories that I used to learn how to fully utilize my Dying Will Flames. What does it even mean to be--
Oh, wait. He’s asking for something way simpler.
Patting the hand, I nodded, “Yeah. I’m Romeo.”
I’m sure it was a cold comfort to the Ice-Make mage. I can only imagine what it felt like from his perspective. To have what was formerly a young kid you remember suddenly become this angsty teen seemingly overnight. Hah, while a childish part of me still resented all the Dreamers for having disappeared, the more mature me pitied them and their temporally displaced lives.
Still, as much as I wanted to indulge in distractions, sit in my corner and just people-watch, I came here this morning with a goal. Make up for last night. Apology cake and coffee for the guild and an… honest discussion with Master Makarov.
Stepping forward to the table where Uncle Wakaba, my father, and Master Makarov met, I steeled myself with a smile and bowed.
“Good morning, Romeo,” Master Makarov said, remaining seated as he puffed on a pipe. Dad and Uncle Wakaba remained standing to either side of him. Dad was glaring at me.
Yes. Yes. I get it. I am literally making up with him right now. Please stop trying to send me a telepathic message. That’s Warren’s skillset, not yours.
“Morning, Master Makarov,” I returned and then bowed, taking off my hat as I did so, “I apologize for my words last night. What I said was meant to hurt and I could have said them in a kinder manner.” Standing upright, I slipped my hat back on and did another small bow with my head, “Once more, apologies.”
Once more, dad. You don’t need to glare so hard. Stop trying to send a message to me. Just text me on your Cat-Pad if you’re so angry. Not that I’d read it, but you get the point.
“...But you don’t apologize for saying them,” Master Makarov eventually sighed.
“No.”
Dad finally gave up. “Romeo!”
“They needed to be said, Dad,” I shrugged before sharpening my posture. This was just like a fight. Every moment, every stance, every word would be carefully chosen to get my point across, “My father has done the best he could over the years to keep this guild safe. That being said, he has no wish to continue being guildmaster and would happily return the position to you.”
Dad gaped while Uncle Wakaba simply sighed. I can’t help it. I fight for what I think is important, and I think this is important.
Chewing on his pipe for a bit, Master Makarov grunted, “But you don’t agree.”
“No, I don’t,” I confirmed, carefully keeping my voice level, “At the very least, there should be a transition period, one where he teaches you the new systems that have been implemented and current political landscape that shapes the current Guild system.”
“What happens if I have another successor in mind?” Master Makarov asked.
I don’t know why he asked. Dad didn’t want to lead. I didn’t want to leadAll we cared about was that Fairy Tail was led.
“Then Uncle Wakaba and father would be their advisors,” I answered, still confused as to why he asked that question, “I don’t particularly care who leads the guild, so long as it is led. As I said, there needs to be a transition period, one where he teaches you, or the new guild leader, the new systems that have been implemented and current political landscape that shapes the current Guild system.”
Silence fell. Surprisingly enough, Dad’s glare lessened and his eyes shone with exasperated pride. Thanks, Dad. Love you too.
“...Are you angry at me, Romeo?” Master Makarov suddenly sighed.
“Yes,” I smiled, reminiscing about a time when he told a scared child to simply wait for a missing father to return from a solo Vulcan extermination. I reminisced, letting the anger boil just a bit, and then buried it once more, “They’re old and have no bearing on this discussion though. What I was angry at was you disrespecting my father’s efforts, but that’s an easily fixed mistake.”
Chewing his pipe, Master Makarov’s eyes roamed up and down my profile before he suddenly asked, “Master Macao, what are your thoughts on the matter?”
Stifling a flinch, Dad fell into his polite persona, “Master Makarov, I couldn’t possibly pres--”
“Your son speaks the truth,” Master Makarov cut him off. While I’d have probably used that as an excuse to snap at him, I couldn’t blame him this time. Dad’s polite persona is annoyingly flowery, deliberate simpering to pander to the prideful asses of the Magic Council. ”I’ll admit that I may have laughed at the thought of you being the Fourth Guildmaster, but seeing your son defend you passionately last night and logically just now… Well, it seems I’m still a bit of a fool. I want to know, truly know. What are your thoughts on the matter?”
Looking at Master Makarov, then at me, Dad took a deep breath and slipped from his polite persona to his political one.
“While my son could have worded it better,” Dad said, giving me a side-glare, “I do agree with him. We are overjoyed to have you all return, but things have changed and we will need to guide and help you adapt to these changes. Rest assured, we have no intentions of encroaching on your, or whoever you so choose, authority ”
Silent for a bit, Master Makarov suddenly threw his head back and laughed, “Hahahahaha! I never thought I’d see the day where a Fairy Tail mage could speak so politically-like so well!” His laughter cut through the tension that had been building underneath and I found myself oddly relaxed. Wiping a tear from his eye, Master Makarov nodded with a puff of smoke, “We should have a discussion then. You, me, Wakaba, and my successor. We’ll hammer out the details on how the guild as a whole will be moving forth.”
That’s good. That’s great. Fuck yeah. This is what I’ve always wanted. A real go-getter. THat passion from the days of old is back! I mean, it was coming back before they came back, but.. Gah, you know what I mean. I mean I know what I--
Fuck it. I am so ready for this new era for the gui--
“Later though!” Master Makarov shouted to the groans of the many still-hungover people, “We still have a party to continue!”
“Huh?” I stumped, my smile dropping in surprise. Wait, what? Wasn’t that last night? We literally just had a party?”
“It’s a reunion seven years in the making. Seems only right that the party should be proportional at least”
“With all due respect,” I said, my respect levels for the Master that had recently recovered also recently taking another nosedive, “that seems grossly irresponsible, Master Makarov. Shouldn’t we get back to work?”
Staring at me, Master Makarov’s outline somehow seemed to become… cartoonish as he stage-whispered to my father with a small grin, “You son seems to have a bit of a…”
“Stick up his ass?” my father fucking betrayed me, “Yes. He’s a bit of a workaholic.”
I work hard, train hard, get all y’alls off your asses, and this is how you betray me? By insinuating I have a work ethic? I do all this work, so I can be fucking lazy. I resent that implication.
“I am absolutely not a workaholic. I’m lazy. I like fun,” I corrected. Being a workaholic meant you had an abundance of energy. As it was, I was running on fumes after having to be so polite for so long, “I do plenty of stupid shit for fun. I resent that statement. No, I just think we need to hammer out the details as soon as possible. I mean-”
“Romeo,” Wakaba cut off my rant, “A break won’t hurt anyone. We still need time to actually plan the details out before we even being, as you call it, the transition. I doubt that you want any of the returnees to just delve into the new Quest system blind, right? We still need to get them the Cat-Pads, teach them how to use the new Lacrima-tech, how to navigate the new Quest and job classifications, there’s a lot that needs to still go over.”
…Damn, I didn’t even think about the fact that Cat-Pads are a relatively new thing. You could always trust Uncle Wakaba to pick out the things everybody missed.
“Just to be clear,” I asked, “you guys will be using this break to try and plan a course of action?”
Yes!” Wakaba snapped his fingers, relief entering his shoulders, “That! We’re going to be doing that.”
I scratched my chin, “Do you need help then?”
Dad shook his head, “Romeo. Just let us do the planning. Be a kid, okay? Relax, have fun, and introduce yourself to everybody again.”
Huh, I didn’t think about it that often, but the way I live my life must be pretty damn stressful for dad. Full-tilt, non-stop, I’ve been doing a lot of things that a kid my age shouldn’t. …I wouldn’t stop. Life’s too short to not go at it with your all, but maybe a break would be fine. Just a small one. Let my dad not worry so much.
“Fine,” I nodded, “A week.” Keeping my smile up, I injected a little darkness in as a warning, “But if you guys start dragging your feet, I’m going to start dragging this guild forward again.”
While Master Makarov smiled indulgently, it was gratifying to see Dad and Uncle Wakaba pale slightly and frantically nod. Always good to have my… promises understood to be a matter of fact.
Turning on my heel, I waved, “Ciao for now then.”
That’s my bit said and done. They’ve got a week to get their asses moving and plan a course for the guild. After that, if nothing’s improved, then I’m going to have to try and muddle it through just like before. What’s another seven years of grinding?
Eh, I’ve got a week’s break to have fun in. What to do, what to do?
…I’ve always been a fan of being efficient. I can have fun and train. And I did promise Natsu that fight.
---
AN: Bit of a passing chapter. Next chapter is an exposition dump of what happened in the past seven years.
