After a simple breakfast, there was nothing else to prepare. Shane followed Ultear to Magnolia's station.
The train clanked and chugged, rolling smoothly along the rails. Outside the window, fields and woods streamed past like a moving painting.
Shane sat by the window. His gaze drifted back from the scenery and landed on the black-haired girl sitting opposite him in silence.
She was still wearing the same simple off-white inner layer with a long-sleeved short jacket over it.
Ultear propped her delicate, pale chin on the back of her hand, her other hand resting casually on her leg. Her thick, raven-feather lashes were lowered as she quietly watched the view outside.
This mute state between them had lasted nearly an hour since they boarded.
Shane wasn't exactly a chatterbox, but even he couldn't stand the heavy, stale air forever.
He felt he needed to say something.
Looking for a topic, he let his eyes sweep over Ultear without drawing attention—and quickly noticed something off.
Her clothes… looked exactly the same as yesterday.
Didn't she only fall asleep after Erza finished soaking? Logically—
Shane frowned, puzzled.
Then he remembered: she'd arrived empty-handed, with no luggage at all.
A thought surfaced, and he blurted out without thinking, "By the way, Ultear—do you not bring spare clothes when you go out? These past two days… it looks like you haven't changed at all."
Ultear had been staring blankly at the scenery. At his abrupt question, she froze—then her expression darkened visibly.
This trip was supposed to be quick and clean: find Worth Woodsea's clue about the Super Magic and return. She hadn't thought that far ahead.
And she definitely hadn't expected Shane to notice such a trivial detail.
She lifted a hand to brush the hair near her ear, pretending she hadn't heard him, and focused even more intently on the window.
It was a trick she'd picked up last night while chatting with Erza during a back scrub—Erza said she learned it from Shane, and that it worked great for questions you didn't want to answer.
Unfortunately, Ultear had underestimated just how obnoxious Shane could be.
"Not paying attention to personal hygiene isn't good," Shane said, thinking she genuinely hadn't heard him—so he leaned in harder, babbling away. "Wearing the same clothes all the time, you'll inevitably start to smell—"
That did it.
Ultear snapped her head around, her beautiful eyes lit with irritation. "None of your business! And besides—someone who goes out without luggage and can't change either has no right to talk about me!"
"Snap!"
Shane instantly snapped his fingers, wearing a triumphant grin like he'd been waiting for this exact line.
"You said 'luggage,' right?"
He rose smoothly. With the snap, the glow of his now-practiced Requip magic flared and wrapped around him.
His T-shirt turned into a loose hoodie in an instant, then cycled into a black jacket, then a linen shirt—
In just a few seconds, he switched through four or five different styles.
After showing off, Shane sat back down and looked at Ultear—whose face was turning black—with smug satisfaction.
"See? If you can't use Requip, you're already separated from me by a tragic, pathetic barrier when it comes to everyday convenience!"
To be fair, when Shane had thrown himself into learning Requip, his main goal was building an "ammo depot" for Arash's arrows.
But a huge part of it was also: never having to pack luggage again.
That was why he genuinely couldn't understand how Erza—who was far better at Requip than him—could still bring half the house whenever she traveled.
"You… you're absolutely doing this on purpose!"
Ultear finally got it. This bastard had steered the conversation here just so he could show off his magic.
She shot to her feet, leaned over the small table, and shoved her sleeve toward Shane's face to prove he was talking nonsense.
"It's only been two days! How could there possibly be a smell?!"
As cloth brushed skin, a faint cedar scent drifted out.
Shane deliberately held his breath and dramatically twisted his head away. "If you care so much, why didn't you plan properly before you left?"
His expression was so punchable that Ultear's fist practically hardened on its own.
She instinctively drew up her magic—then, with a bleak sense of reality, realized that even if she did want to use force…
…she probably couldn't win.
That fact made her even more stifled.
She glared at Shane like she wanted to bore a hole through his stupid face.
Then she dropped heavily back into her seat, turned to the window, and swore in her heart that no matter what Shane said next, she would not respond.
Whether she was angry or gloomy, at least her expression had finally become more animated.
Shane couldn't help smiling. His mood lifted noticeably. Knowing when to stop, he shut up at once.
But that sudden "peace" only made Ultear's suppressed irritation feel even more trapped, with nowhere to go.
Even the scenery outside started to look irritating.
After about ten minutes of stubborn silence, she couldn't resist. She subtly tilted her head and glanced over with the corner of her eye to see what Shane was doing.
What she saw almost made her choke.
Shane had his arms folded, head resting on them, breathing steady—
He was asleep?!
"Is he a pig? He gets someone boiling mad, and then he sleeps like a baby?"
That was the final straw.
All her life, for the sake of revenge against her mother, Ultear had been trained to repress emotion—using absolute rationality to plan, control, and restrain herself.
But right now, she did something childish even she couldn't explain—purely driven by emotion.
Without changing expression, she slipped a few tiny seeds from her pocket.
Estimating how long until the train arrived, she circulated her magic and used Arc of Time to preset their activation and growth.
Then, with a flick of her finger—hidden by the shifting light from the window—she precisely snapped the seeds into Shane's collar.
After that, she composed herself like nothing had happened, quietly anticipating what his face would look like later.
Past noon, the train slowed into the destination station as the announcement played.
Shane blinked awake, groggy. That nap had been solid—he felt much better.
He straightened up, his neck joints giving a soft crack.
Across from him, Ultear's expression was as calm as ever—maybe even colder than before.
"Honestly, if you know the exact direction," Shane yawned and rubbed the back of his neck, "it'd be faster if I just flew you over."
"Why go through all this trouble riding a train?"
Ultear didn't even lift her eyelids. "I don't know what your magic can do. If it's that convenient, tell me earlier next time."
She stood first and headed for the door.
Shane didn't think much of it. He yawned again and lazily followed a few steps behind.
But the moment he stepped off the train and his feet hit the platform—
Bzz!
Tender shoots burst out of his collar and cuffs without warning. They grew wildly, vines writhing like living snakes as they latched onto the metal doorframe, thickening and swelling until the frame visibly warped.
"Sir! Magic is strictly prohibited within the station area—especially near the train!"
A staff member noticed immediately and strode over with a stern frown.
Shane was still in a state of pure confusion. He reflexively protested, "That wasn't me—"
Before he could finish, he saw the black-haired girl already a few steps away on the platform. She turned her head at just the right moment.
For once, the edge of her usually tight mouth carried the faintest trace of a mischievous smile.
"You can handle this here," she said lightly. "I'll wait outside."
Then she turned away, and with an almost cheerful spring to her steps, walked toward the exit.
~~~
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