A few days had passed since Lucy Heartfilia joined Fairy Tail.
It was night. Magnolia had finally gone quiet.
Cid left the guild hall without fanfare, the last door swing catching a sliver of lamplight and tucking it back inside. The streets were mostly empty—shutters latched, signs creaking, puddles cooling after the day's foot traffic. The air had that clean edge only night could sharpen. It felt good on the skin.
He walked without hurry. Not sneaking—just the relaxed pace of someone who had nowhere urgent to be. Above, the sky was clear, the moon full and steady. It hung there like a coin someone had forgotten to spend. A slow breeze threaded between buildings, carrying bakery warmth that refused to die and river scent that never quite left Magnolia. A cat blinked from a windowsill, decided he wasn't interesting, and slept again.
Cid liked the city best at this hour. No shouting. No chairs flying. No explosions. Just footsteps, breathing, and the little moonlight that allows him to focus on what really matters, things that may be lost in the hustle and bustle of the day.
He passed the canal and paused at the stone railing. Water slid by in thin silver lines. The moonlight caught on it in pieces, as if the river was taking the sky to another town.
Weather: optimal. Moon: full. Breeze: "main character contemplative scene" grade, he logged privately. If this were a story, this is where the protagonist would mutter to himself about his resolve. Fortunately, I am not the protagonist.
He kept walking.
A distant bell turned over once. The kind of sound that doesn't call anyone; it just marks time and lets it go. Cid lifted his face to the sky and stopped under a quiet stretch where the rooftops opened like folded hands.
Was I wrong?
He didn't say it out loud. The thought sat there anyway, clean and simple.
Lucy had energy. She had curiosity. She had that "I want to belong" gravity that pulls people into orbit. She had the makings of a catalyst. She might even be one. And yet, the days since her arrival had been all small jobs, small arguments, small concerns—saving Macao, infiltrating as a maid, debates about rent...
He leaned on a post. The wood had been warmed by day, and now it gave that heat back to his palm in small, steady portions. He looked at the moon as if it might file a report.
Did I misread the flag? Maybe Lucy isn't the switch. Maybe she's a prelude. Or maybe the storyline hasn't found its legs yet. That happens. Sometimes the drumroll is just… longer.
The breeze moved again. Laundry lines sighed above an alley, smelling faintly of soap. Somewhere, a dog turned over and committed to a deeper sleep. Cid counted his breaths: even, unremarkable.
It's fine. An eminence in the shadows that hurries to the stage stops being a shadow. If Lucy is the catalyst, she'll spark something soon. If she isn't, then the protagonist remains the same: Natsu Dragneel—shonen aura, dragon sleeping within him, demonic energy, trouble magnet. The event will come to him. And when it comes to him, it will pass near me. That's how proximity works.
But the question didn't entirely leave.
Till when? How long can I stand at the edge of the frame and wait?
He imagined the scene the way he liked to imagine it: a worthy main event—something with teeth. A dark guild that mattered. A demon of Zeref, the reknown black magician. A monster boss. The kind of problem that makes a city hold its breath.
He pictured stepping into that air—no rush, no panic—just the outline, just the voice.
"You've done well to make it this far." One line. Enough to change temperature.
He closed his eyes for a moment and let the night rest on his face. When he opened them, Magnolia was exactly as he'd left it—moon, water, sleeping houses, and the long, clean street leading home.
It's not about being impatient. It's about readiness. If the curtain lifts today, I go. If it lifts a month from now, I go. But I will not squander the first entrance. The first entrance decides everything.
He straightened, rolled his shoulders, and continued down the lane. He counted windows, tracked exits, noted where the cobbles dipped and where the shadows pooled deepest. None of it would matter to anyone else. All of it mattered to him.
Lucy… Are you the match? Or just the hand that holds it? Natsu… Keep walking loudly. The main events follows noise. And me… I'll keep my place. The perfect distance. The perfect angle. The line rehearsed and hidden.
A scrap of cloud tried to smudge the moon and failed. The river whispered the same sentence it had whispered five minutes ago. A paper lantern flickered in a doorway and went to sleep. Cid stopped once more, not because anything had changed, but because this was the exact spot where the breeze felt like the turn of a page.
He looked up.
If I'm wrong, I'll adjust. If Lucy isn't the key, I'll find the door another way. But the stage is here. The protagonist is here. The boss will arrive. Demons like entrances almost as much as I do.
And anyway, a shonen protagonist shouldn't be an adult by Japan's standards, so it must be this year, after all Natsu is already 17.
His hand closed slowly at his side. Not a dramatic fist. Just a small confirmation the night could keep.
A soft exhale left him. He didn't smile. He didn't frown. He just kept walking, the kind of movement the city forgets immediately.
When it comes, he promised the moon, the street, and himself, I'll be ready to step out of the dark and be exactly what I trained to be.
Magnolia breathed with him—quiet, steady, unexcited. He let it. He turned the last corner toward home.
Behind him, the river kept its silver. Above him, the sky held its coin. Between them, a shadow moved at the perfect pace.