Fairy Tail: The Faint Smile in Earthland

📍 Crocus — Guild Training Grounds & City Outskirts

📅 July X791

As the sun dipped behind Crocus's rooftops, the sky melted into a tapestry of amber and ash. A hush spread across the cobbled city streets—not silence, exactly, but a softer rhythm, a breath drawn after battle.

The thunder of Domus Flau still rumbled distantly, a ghost of noise drifting between buildings. But in a quiet courtyard tucked beside the guild lodgings, another rhythm echoed—steadier. Quieter. Personal.

Romeo swung his flame sword through the air with calm precision. Again. Again. Sweat clung to his brow, and his collar soaked through. He didn't pause. His eyes were narrowed—not with rage, but resolve.

At the edge of the yard, a few young mages from other guilds whispered among themselves.

"That's Romeo from Fairy Tail," one murmured. "He's just a kid—but look at his form."

"I heard he trained under the Silver-Eyed Valkyrie," another said. "No wonder his blade moves like it's reading your mind."

Romeo finished a final arc, then stopped. He looked up as twilight deepened, stars peeking through the fading haze of gold. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword.

"Teresa," he murmured. "You always say a blade should be silent. But I think… mine needs to speak for me."

Memories swirled—his father's quiet worry, the guild's laughter, Teresa's analyzing gaze, and the rare, fleeting softness in her voice when she wasn't looking directly at him.

A voice rang out behind him.

"Hey, kid! Got room for one more out here? Been stiff all day."

Romeo turned as a Blue Pegasus mage stepped into the open, wearing a grin that didn't hide his restlessness.

Romeo blinked, then nodded.

"Sure. But don't go easy."

The other laughed. "Spicy. I like that."

They squared off in a makeshift ring. A few more onlookers gathered, the mood light but focused—curious more than competitive.

The Pegasus mage moved first—fast, practiced. Romeo flowed with him, reading muscle tension, balance, and rhythm like a second language.

"Your weight's too far forward," Romeo said mid-parry. "You overcommit when you lunge."

The mage huffed a laugh. "You talk like my instructor."

Romeo flushed slightly but didn't slow. His blade shimmered with violet flame as he stepped in, bringing the tip of his sword to a halt—precise, just an inch from the mage's shoulder.

The crowd gasped softly. The Pegasus fighter held up both hands, smiling.

"Alright, alright! I give. That was clean."

Scattered claps followed. A few others asked for pointers. Romeo nodded shyly, heat rising in his face. But inside him, something burned—quiet and real. Not pride, exactly. More like belonging.

Later, when the circle emptied, he sat on a stone ledge and rested his sword across his knees. His eyes drifted to the night sky.

"Teresa… you call bonds chains. But… maybe they're wings, too."

Her voice echoed in his mind: Echoes make your edge noisy.

But so did other voices—Lucy's cheering, Makarov's encouragement, Natsu's reckless support. Fairy Tail's warmth.

The moon had risen fully now, silver and still. Romeo stared at it in silence.

"I want to stand beside you someday," he whispered. "Not just follow you. I want to prove a blade can carry echoes… and stay sharp."

A breeze passed through the training ground. Somewhere far off, Domus Flau's crowd still roared faintly. A breath. A beat.

"Romeo."

He turned.

Macao stood in the archway, hands in his pockets, face soft with something between fatigue and pride.

"Dad?"

"I've been watching. Hard not to, really," Macao said, chuckling. "You're out here making me feel ancient."

Romeo lowered his eyes briefly. "I just want to be someone Fairy Tail can count on. Someone you can count on."

Macao walked over, ruffling his hair.

"You already are. You don't need to chase it like it's leaving you behind. Just keep walking forward. That's enough."

Romeo swallowed hard and nodded. "I will."

Macao looked up at the moon, voice gentler now.

"She's still watching, too, huh? Teresa."

Romeo followed his gaze. "Yeah. Even when she's cold… I think she's still listening. In her way."

Macao nodded once.

"Maybe someday she'll understand. That echoes… aren't just noise. They're music."

Romeo smiled faintly. "Maybe."

Far above, in her silent booth, Teresa sat alone—not watching the matches now. Her gaze had turned upward, to the sky.

She felt it. Not words. Just a ripple—faint and distant, like a whisper riding on a current.

Her silver eyes reflected moonlight, softened by something unspoken.

"Echoes," she murmured. "Wings… or chains…"

Her hand tightened at her cloak's edge, grasping it like it could answer her.

A small smile touched her lips.

It didn't linger.

Below, Romeo stood beside his father, sword over his shoulder, moonlight wrapping both of them in quiet silver.

Tonight, the distance between him and Teresa still existed.

But it no longer felt impossible.

The road forward didn't ask for silence.

It was asked to be walked.

Step by step—in echoes.