When Shane brought Levy back to the front yard, the first person to greet him was Natsu—his mouth gleaming with grease.
"Shane, you're so slow!"
Natsu held up two bare metal skewers and complained through a mouthful of food, "I'm not saving you any meat! Hic—"
Shane swept his gaze across the scene and his face immediately darkened.
In the short time he'd been gone, most of the skewers Elfman had worked so hard at the grill to cook had vanished into this idiot's stomach.
Even more outrageous—why was half the charcoal gone from the brazier?
"You little—" Shane stared at Natsu's puffed-out cheeks, which were still practically smoking. "You didn't just eat the meat—you ate the fire too? Were you a starving ghost in your past life?!"
"If you won't leave me any, at least leave some for everyone else!"
Seeing the fire was about to be eaten out of existence, Shane didn't even need Erza to step in. He stormed over and chopped Natsu on the head with a crisp hand strike.
"Ow!"
Natsu clutched his head and yelled, aggrieved. "What kind of party doesn't let people eat?!"
"Eat this."
Shane sighed, resigned. To stop Natsu from continuing his rampage through everyone's dinner, he flicked his finger and sent a small tuft of "Flame" drifting lightly into the air.
"Ooooh! That's the one! This time I'm definitely gonna eat it!"
Natsu's attention instantly snapped away. Like a puppy chasing a frisbee, he whooped and sprinted after the flame toward the corner of the yard.
Shane shook his head, exhausted, and returned to the main table.
"Here."
Just then, a plate piled high with food was gently pushed in front of him.
Erza had somehow appeared and sat beside him with a soft smile.
The plate was neatly arranged with grilled beef, vegetable rolls, and even peeled shrimp—everything Shane liked.
"I saved this for you."
She blinked, eyes curving into a smile.
"…Man. Someone actually cares about me."
Shane was genuinely moved. He picked up his chopsticks, took a bite, and immediately filled his mouth with rich flavor.
…
The New Year's barbecue party carried on deep into the night.
Everyone sat around the bonfire, eating grilled meat, drinking juice, swapping stories from the year. The mood was warm and lively.
Even Mira—who'd started out awkward and prickly—quieted down after being fed by everyone in turn. She hugged her plate and gnawed on meat in silence, occasionally letting the corners of her mouth lift whenever Natsu and Gray did something stupid.
After the party ended, Shane thoughtfully heated the outdoor hot spring in the backyard with the Flame of the Heart, letting the girls enjoy it first.
The boys, meanwhile, stayed behind and suffered through cleaning up the mess.
Half an hour later, everything was finally tidied up.
While everyone else still fooled around in the front yard, Shane sat alone on the steps by the door, enjoying a rare moment of quiet.
The winter night wind stripped the smoke and grease from his clothes. He was just about to lean back against the wall—
Thud.
Something hard dropped from above and smacked him square in the forehead.
"Gah—who the hell?!" Shane clutched his head and whipped around, but didn't see anyone.
He followed the object's trajectory and looked up.
On the moonlit roof, a black-haired girl sat with her knees hugged to her chest. Her long black dress snapped in the wind, and she stared down at him expressionlessly.
The night wind stirred her hair and hem against the enormous outline of the moon—solitary, distant… and somehow familiar.
"Ultear?"
Shane blinked, then grinned.
She was back—now, of all times?
He'd been planning to go look for her after New Year's if she still hadn't surfaced, and she just showed up on her own.
"Where the hell have you been? I thought you'd bailed and run for it!"
He bent down, picked up the "weapon" she'd thrown at him, and complained.
Ultear didn't answer. Her crystal ball floated up with a faint glow, looped around him twice, then bobbed toward the roof—wordlessly telling him to come up.
Her face was calm, but there was a faint, solemn tension between her brows.
Shane stopped joking. With a light push off his toes, he hopped up onto the roof and landed beside her.
"Hades is about to make a move."
Ultear didn't waste a single word.
"A move?" Shane's expression instantly hardened.
Hades—the master of Ultear's dark guild, the man described as a bottomless abyss of magic.
Anything involving him demanded full attention.
"Why do you think that?"
"Because a few days ago, he suddenly gave me an order."
Ultear looked out at the bonfire below, her voice quiet.
"He wants me to enroll in a magic school under the Council, build credentials… so I can infiltrate the Council legitimately later."
"Infiltrate the Council?" Shane frowned. "For what?"
"He didn't say. Just vague phrasing."
Ultear paused, as if choosing her words carefully. "He said it was… to find a 'key.'"
"A key…"
Shane fell into thought.
The Council was the most powerful official organization in Ishgar, with deep roots and deep secrets.
Planting a long-term insider like this—one cultivated from youth—meant the target was no small matter.
What kind of "key" required Ultear to burrow into the Council to retrieve it? A seal? A relic? Some kind of authority?
"So you came back after being gone this long to ask me to do something about it?"
Shane turned to her.
Ultear shook her head.
"No. I'm just honoring our deal—telling you what I know."
"Then why not use a lacrima call? Why come in person?" Shane asked. "Are you being watched?"
Ultear didn't answer directly.
She turned her face slightly; moonlight traced a soft, cold silver edge along her profile.
"Do you remember what I said last time?"
"Last time?" Shane hesitated, recalling the rare weakness and uncertainty she'd shown when she left.
"You mean… your 'wish'?"
He asked carefully, like he was afraid he'd hit a hidden trigger.
"Yeah."
Ultear nodded, unexpectedly calm. "I want to share my wish with you."
"…You've decided?"
Shane looked genuinely surprised. Before, she'd been evasive—sealed up like a puzzle box. This honesty didn't match the old "riddle-speaker" version of her at all.
"Why now?"
Ultear let out a small, almost amused breath. "It's not as complicated as you're making it."
"I just… don't trust Hades as much anymore."
"Why?"
"Because of the way he intends to find that 'key'…"
Ultear's pause was longer this time. When she spoke again, the calm was gone—replaced by ice-cold disgust.
"It's excessive. Excessive to the point that… I can't accept it."
"Excessive?"
For someone like Ultear—who'd grown up in the dark—to call something excessive meant it was likely horrifying.
Shane's eyes sharpened. "What method?"
Ultear didn't say. She shut her eyes.
"Imagine whatever you want. It'll be bloody. Sacrifices. Killing."
"The plan won't officially start for a few years, but I…"
She trailed off.
Shane stared at her—at the unguarded disgust in her expression, the instinctive rejection of cruelty. And without thinking, he blurted:
"You've gotten softer, Ultear."
In the Tower of Heaven days, she might've hated it, but she would've forced herself through anyway.
"Don't label me."
Ultear shot him a glare, annoyed. The glare itself chased away some of her distant chill—adding an oddly human, heated edge.
"I just… don't want to do things that make me sick."
"I'm guessing you don't just hate it," Shane said, meeting her eyes. "You want to stop it."
"If so, why not say it outright and ask me to help?"
Ultear turned away, muttering, "That's my decision. It has nothing to do with you—"
"Stop."
Shane cut her off with an impatient wave.
He leaned closer, voice lowering. "Or is it that you don't trust him… and you don't really trust me either?"
Whum—
Red flame ignited in Shane's eyes—his Eye of Karma, burning like embers.
Under that stare, Ultear looked like every layer of armor she'd worn for years was being peeled away.
"Tch. What a troublesome pair of eyes."
She clicked her tongue and averted her gaze again, stubbornly avoiding his.
"You're annoying. Your mouth is awful… but fine. You're at least someone I can talk to."
Shane burst out laughing.
"So you've improved in the 'not completely evil' department… but you're still just as tsundere as ever."
"You—"
Ultear bristled, clearly wanting to snap back, then stopped herself.
"Anyway—"
"Anyway," Shane interrupted again, firmer this time.
He stepped in, reached out, and cupped her face with both hands—cool skin against his palms—forcing her to look at him.
"I don't like Hades either."
"So trust me. And ask me."
"I'll help."
~~~
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