Fairy Tail: The Faint Smile in Earthland

📍 Crocus — Domus Flau Arena

📅 July X791

The sun hung high above Crocus, casting waves of heat over Domus Flau Arena like the breath of a sleeping dragon. Yesterday's battles still echoed in the minds of spectators, but the energy today was different. Not quieter—just sharper. People leaned forward in their seats not for fire or fury, but for something unexpected.

Up in the private viewing booth, Teresa sat with her legs crossed and her white cloak draped like snowfall caught on marble. Her sword remained sealed in Requip space, her posture relaxed—but no one who knew her would mistake that stillness for calm.

Macao adjusted his seat and peered at the screens.

"Mirajane versus Jenny Realight? Didn't think they'd open with that one."

Beside him, Kinana twirled a lock of hair.

"They're both beautiful, but in completely different ways. Mira feels soft. Jenny's more… sharp."

Teresa's gaze narrowed slightly.

"Beauty and sharpness are not contradictions," she said. Her voice barely carried.

On the field, Mirajane stepped out to a wave of cheers. Her smile, as always, was gentle—but there was something beneath it. Something older than her charm.

Across from her, Jenny strode with practiced grace. She waved, twirled, soaked in the attention. Her smirk radiated confidence, but her eyes gleamed with competition.

"Oh Mira, sweetheart," she called, voice playful and theatrical. "Surely you didn't come all this way for a fight. I say we settle this with something far more… fabulous."

Mirajane tilted her head slightly. "A modeling match?"

Jenny winked. "Let's make Fiore swoon."

Up in the Fairy Tail booth, Makarov nearly dropped off the ledge.

"Modeling?! Is that a joke?!"

Levy laughed until she nearly cried. Even Gajeel, arms crossed in the back, snorted despite himself.

Floating above them, Mavis smiled, her hands folded near her heart.

"They carry levity into their conflicts. That, too, is its own kind of strength."

Mirajane's smile softened.

"If that's what you want, Jenny… I'll play along."

The referee blinked in disbelief but gave the signal.

In a shimmer of light, the battlefield transformed. Spotlights flashed into existence. Camera illusions spun overhead. Jenny struck a pose in a dazzling gown, jeweled and starlit. The crowd screamed her name.

Not to be outdone, Mirajane's magic flowed around her like wind in silk. Her transformation bloomed into a soft lavender gown—elegant, serene, like a spring flower caught in a morning breeze.

Gasps rose from every corner of the stadium.

In the booth above, Teresa's silver gaze narrowed.

"Masks," she murmured. "But hers… isn't empty. It's not a lie. She wears it like breath."

Kinana blinked, surprised.

"You… sound like you admire her."

Teresa didn't respond.

Jenny spun again. This time, she conjured a flashy swimsuit and a wink so bold it made half the audience blush. The male section of the crowd nearly rioted.

Mirajane giggled and shifted again—a soft, frilled two-piece in sun-kissed colors. Her peace sign nearly caused a meltdown in the stands.

Gajeel turned bright red and looked away. Levy whacked him with her notebook.

"Don't you dare!"

Makarov looked like he might pass out.

"My Miraaa!!"

Mavis laughed, high and bright.

Jenny clapped sharply, clearly rattled now. A third transformation burst forth—a wedding dress, ornate and dramatic, with veils swirling like banners in the wind.

The crowd gasped again.

Mirajane, though, didn't rush.

She closed her eyes.

And when she reopened them, her magic didn't explode—it unfolded. A simple white dress, no frills, no jewels. Just soft fabric and silence.

The crowd didn't cheer. They just… stared.

She didn't look like a model. She looked like a memory someone forgot they still held.

Up above, Teresa's hand curled slightly over the armrest.

"She dropped the mask," she whispered. "That's her true echo."

For a moment, her lips almost curved into something like a smile. Not cold. Not cruel.

Just… quiet.

Jenny's voice wavered.

"Tch… Come on, Mira. This was supposed to be a show!"

Mirajane's voice remained steady, even kind.

"I'm just being myself."

Jenny faltered. Her magic flickered, uncertain.

And that was when Mirajane changed.

The lavender glow vanished.

What rose in its place was darker. Wilder.

Satan Soul: Sitri.

Black and violet wings exploded from her back. Her horns curved like shadows in moonlight. The earth trembled beneath her transformation.

Jenny stumbled backward, her veil flying loose.

"Wh-What is that?!"

Mirajane's grin was no longer sweet. It was razor-sharp.

"You wanted a show, didn't you?"

In the Fairy Tail booth, Makarov screamed like a proud father.

"That's my Miraaaa!!"

Levy cheered. Even Gajeel looked genuinely impressed.

In the observation booth, Teresa leaned forward, eyes sharp.

"The mask didn't break. She broke it herself—because she wanted to. She controls the echo. Not the other way around."

Jenny dropped to her knees, overwhelmed by the power radiating off Mirajane. Her magic fizzled out.

The referee raised his hand.

"Winner: Mirajane Strauss of Fairy Tail!"

The arena exploded in applause.

Cheers. Screams. Disbelief.

Mirajane let the transformation fade. Her soft smile returned, calm and graceful. She curtsied like it had all been part of a dream.

Teresa didn't speak.

She just watched her walk away.

But deep behind her silver eyes—just for a second—something warm flickered.

A memory, maybe. Or a ghost of something she hadn't felt in a very long time.

Then it was gone.

Like moonlight slipping behind a quiet cloud.