A week after the catastrophic, glorious, and unbelievably expensive housewarming party at the guild hall had ended, life had settled into its new rhythm. The guild members had (grudgingly) repaired their own new hall, and the incident was already a beloved, if costly, legend.
It was on a quiet morning, with the guild in a rare state of low-key chatter, that a new visitor arrived.
She didn't burst in like Natsu or stalk in like Erza. She simply... appeared. She was a young woman, perhaps sixteen or seventeen, with an air of casual, almost lazy, indifference. Her hair was a striking, minty green, styled in two short, bob-cut pigtails, and her most captivating feature was her eyes—a deep, intelligent teal, with pupils shaped like crosses. She wore a simple, stylish traveling coat over a dark dress, and she moved with a languid grace that suggested she'd rather be napping. This was Brandish.
She stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room with a bored expression, completely unfazed by the 200-pound man who flew past her and crashed into a table. She was looking for Lucy. She was about to ask a guild member at the entrance where she might find her when the doors burst open again.
"I'm telling you, ice-freak, that quest was mine!"
"You burnt the request form, ash-brain! It's void!"
We can see Lucy, Natsu, and Gray entering the guild, bickering as they returned from a local job.
"Lucy."
The flat, monotone voice cut through their argument. Lucy Heartfilia froze, her head snapping toward the entrance. Her jaw dropped.
"Brandish?! What are you doing here?!"
The green-haired girl, Brandish, gave a small, lazy pout. "Lucy. How can you leave me alone at the mansion? You said we were friends, right? It's so boring there now. You should have taken me with you when you ran away from the house."
Lucy's eye twitched. "You wanted to run away? Brandish, I was fleeing for my life!"
"And? That sounds exciting," Brandish replied with a shrug. "Anyway, I got bored. So now I am here to join the guild."
This floored the group. "Join...?!" Lucy stammered. "Did... did Grammi give you permission to join the guild?" (Grammi, Brandish's mother, was the head of the Heartfilia maids and a terrifyingly stern woman.)
Brandish nodded, pulling a small, folded note from her pocket. "Yes, she did. She said, and I quote, 'Get out and see the world, you lazy child. Just don't shrink the mansion while you're gone.' So, here I am."
Lucy, after a moment of stunned silence, burst into a massive smile. "That's great! We can take quests together! We can go shopping! Oh, this is perfect!"
She grabbed Brandish's arm and dragged her toward her friends. "Guys, this is Brandish! She's the daughter of my mother's maid, Grammi, and my best friend from the mansion!"
Natsu sniffed her. "She smells... weird."
Gray just stared. "Uh... hi."
Brandish greeted them with a single, lazy wave. "Yo."
Then Lucy introduced Brandish to her friends at the guild, taking her from table to table. Erza gave her a respectful nod. Cana offered her a drink (which she declined). Levy struck up a conversation about the books at the Heartfilia estate. Brandish, despite her lazy demeanor, was polite and greeted them nicely, though she looked at the constant brawling as if it were a strange, primitive ritual.
"Come on, you have to meet the Master!"
Lucy took her to meet Guild Master Makarov. She explained the entire situation, "Master, this is Brandish, my childhood friend from home! Her mom finally let her come, and she wants to join!"
Makarov, hearing the situation, beamed. A friend of Lucy's was family. "Welcome, my child! She can join the guild!"
Then he took out the guild mark stamp. "Now, where does she want the stamp, and which color?"
Brandish thought for a moment, then pointed to the back of her left hand. "Green. Like my hair. On my left hand."
The stamp was applied, and a new, powerful, and utterly bizarre mage had joined the roster. The guild now had three new, prominent girls who had arrived in the past few months: Lucy, the runaway heiress; Flare Corona, the giant-raised crimson-haired; and now Brandish, the calm, cross-eyed enigma.
After a week, Blake had his fill of home life. The mansion was running perfectly, his car was tuned, and the guild was... the guild. He was getting the itch again.
He was looking at the S-Class quest board, searching for something interesting. Most were standard monster-hunts or dark-guild subjugations—work he could do in his sleep.
After searching for a while, he found a quest that he found interesting. It was a new posting, flagged by the Magic Council.
"S-CLASS: Inspection of Spatial Fluctuations in the Shadow Island."
The description was vague: "An island in the southern archipelago. Magic readings are unstable. Investigate and report."
Seeing that, his interest piqued. "Spatial fluctuations" sounded far more challenging than just punching another beast.
Then he was going to Makarov to get his quest approved. He plucked the paper and headed for the Master's office.
As he was going, a familiar, barrel-carrying figure intercepted him.
"Blaaaake~!"
Drunk Cana slid in front of him, her 18-year-old face flushed with a mid-morning buzz. "Goin' somewhere fun, big guy?"
"S-Class mission. Shadow Island," Blake said, his deep voice amused.
Cana's eyes lit up. "Shadows? Space? Sounds way more fun than sitting here. Can I come to the quest?"
Blake looked at her. She was a powerful mage; her Card Magic and Crush Magic were nothing to scoff at. But she was also... drunk.
"I would like you to join the quest," he said honestly. "But first, let's ask the Master's permission."
Hearing that, Cana nodded eagerly, grabbing his massive arm. Then they both went to Makarov.
"Master, I'm taking this one," Blake said, handing him the paper.
Makarov read it, his face growing serious. "The Shadow Island? That's a nasty, unknown variable, Blake. You're sure?"
"I'm sure. And I'm asking if I can take Cana on this quest."
Makarov looked from Blake's S-Class confidence to Cana's (mostly) sobered-up, hopeful expression. He sighed. Blake was 21, an adult, and the most reliable mage he had.
"Fine. I approve. But this is an inspection, Blake. Not a brawl. You find anything you can't handle, you call me. Be careful."
Hearing that, Cana was happy and let out a "Whoop!" She threw her arms around Blake's neck and gave him a loud, sloppy kiss on the cheek. Blake, used to this, just smiled.
For Blake, this was not the first time. Ever since he became S-Class, and Cana confessed at that party, whenever she got drunk, she would kiss him and tell him she liked him. Years ago, when she was 9 and he was 12, his mind would flash with a panicked, old-world warning: FBI, OPEN UP!
But now that they were both adults—he 21, she 18—he didn't mind much. The affection was... nice.
Then they both left the guild.
But as they were leaving, what they didn't see was Mirajane at the bar, wiping a glass. Her sweet smile was fixed, but her eyes, hidden behind her white bangs, followed Blake and Cana with a deep, complicated look before she turned back to her work.
The dark green Urus roared to life. Blake sat in the driver's seat, and Cana flopped happily into the plush passenger seat beside him, immediately grabbing a beer from the small, rune-powered cooler he'd installed.
They both talked as they were driving, Blake recounting his morning spar with Laxus, and Cana complaining about her losing streak at poker.
But as the hours passed, the alcohol took hold, and the mood shifted.
Cana, while drinking, started to flirt with him. First with talks.
"You know, this car is almost as nice as its owner," she slurred slightly, leaning closer. "Almost."
Blake kept his eyes on the road. "Thanks, Cana."
Then, slowly, she got physical. She leaned her head on his massive shoulder, her hand idly drawing circles on his bicep. "You're all... tense, Blake. You've been tense ever since you got back from the giants. You need to relax."
Blake's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "I'm driving, Cana. And we're on a mission."
"So?" she whispered, her voice husky.
Blake asks, "Is this why you wanted to come on this quest? For this?"
Cana sat up, her eyes flashing with a drunken, defiant fire. "Yes. So what? We're finally alone. No guild. No fights interrupting us. Are you going to drop me in the middle of the road?"
Blake let out a long, pained sigh. "No, Cana. I'm not."
He continued to drive, and Cana continued to flirt, her hand now resting on his thigh. Blake's entire body was rigid. He was a man who could topple giants... and he was being brought to his knees by one drunk Mage.
After a while, seeing Blake not responding—just staring at the road, a muscle in his jaw ticking—Cana's drunken confidence faltered. A small, real flicker of worry crossed her face.
"You're... you're really not reacting at all," she said, her voice small. "Blake... are you into boys?"
The Urus's tires screeched.
Blake suddenly stopped the car in the middle of the empty forest road, the vehicle groaning in protest. He slammed it into park and turned to her, his face a mask of disbelief.
"What? No!"
"Then why are you not responding like a normal man should?!" she demanded, her insecurity and the alcohol making her loud. "I'm not ugly! I'm throwing myself at you! What is wrong with you?"
"What's wrong is that I am controlling myself so I won't do something I... we... will regret!" Blake shot back, his deep voice finally cracking with frustration.
"What is there to be regretting?!" Cana shouted, now standing on her knees on the seat. "I told you so many times, I like you! Why can't you... just... why don't you accept my feelings?!"
"I do, Cana! I... I know!" Blake ran a hand through his hair, his composure breaking. "I... I was waiting for the right time!"
"The 'right time'?!" she scoffed. "We're mages, Blake! We could die tomorrow! This is the right time! Then tell me now! About how you feel about me!"
Blake sighed, the fight going out of him. He looked at her, his eyes soft. "I like you, Cana. I really, really like you. Are you happy?"
"I am not unhappy," she said, her pout returning. But then she leaned in, her eyes sly. "Then... why don't you kiss me to prove your point?"
Blake leaned back, his self-control returning. "No. Not right now. Not when you're drunk, and not in the middle of a mission. I am waiting for the right moment."
Cana fell back into her seat, crossing her arms. "The 'right moment.' You're stalling. Are you scared because of my dad? Don't worry, I will take care of him."
"No, I am not scared of Gildarts," Blake said, though a small, honest part of him flinched.
"Then what?" Cana demanded. "I told you, the moment should be right," Blake said, putting the car back in gear and starting to drive.
"Ugh! You're hopeless!" Cana huffed. She rolled her eyes and leaned back, taunting him. "You're scared. 'Blake, the Black Blade, the Hero of Magnolia... is scared of a kiss.' Scared. Scared. Scaredy-cat..."
Blake, as he was driving, gripped the wheel. His face started to twitch. He'd endured years of this. Years of her drunken, honest confessions and her sober, playful denials. He'd endured Gildarts's murderous glares. He'd endured his own, rigid self-control.
She kept going. "Scared of my dad. Scared of me. Bet you don't even know how to kiss, do you? Big, scary, S-Class virgin..."
After a while, having enough of it, he stopped the car again, suddenly. The Urus lurched to a halt.
"Blake, what is—mmph?!"
"That's it," he growled.
He unbuckled, leaned across the center console, grabbed her face with one hand, and kissed her. It was deep, and firm, and held all the frustration, control, and affection he'd been suppressing for half a decade. He wasn't scared; he was done waiting.
Cana, at first, had her eyes wide in utter shock. Her brain, addled by alcohol, completely rebooted. She had been taunting the giant, and the giant had finally swatted back.
But then, as the kiss deepened, her mind went blissfully blank. Her eyes closed, and her hands came up to clutch his shirt, and she continued to kiss him back with all the pent-up longing she'd hidden behind her barrels.
It was a long, breathless kiss that left them both dizzy.
Then, after kissing for a while, they separated. Blake was breathing heavily, his eyes intense. Cana was just... dazed.
Blake just stared at her for a second, then, without a single word, he buckled his seatbelt, put the car in gear, and started driving again.
There was no more talking. Just the low, powerful hum of the Urus and the sound of their breathing. It was a comfortable silence.
Meanwhile, Cana was slumped in her seat, a goofy, dazed, ecstatic smile on her face. Her cheeks were crimson. She stared out the window, her heart racing faster than the car. She felt as if she drank 10 barrels of beer, a warm, giddy, floating bliss that was better than any buzz she'd ever known.