Morning light slipped through the gap in the curtains, splitting the room into two halves—one bright, one dim.
Erza woke from a heavy sleep, her vision slowly coming into focus.
The first thing she saw was the familiar ceiling.
And then—
The figure keeping watch by her bed.
Shane was leaning back in a chair, arms folded, eyes slightly closed.
His breathing was steady and long—like he was dozing… or like he was concentrating on sensing something.
Seeing that face so close, an indescribable calm flooded her chest.
Normally, the first thing she'd do on waking would be to smile and say, "Good morning."
But this time, for some reason, she didn't speak.
She quietly wriggled half her body out from under the blanket, like a lazy cat, holding her breath as she inched closer—bit by bit.
Her slender fingers lifted, fingertips trembling. She wanted to poke his quiet cheek, trace the outline of his face…
However—
Even though most of Shane's mind was sunk into the "sea of the heart" in his consciousness, his awareness of the outside world never fully loosened.
Creak.
The faint sound of the bedframe instantly roused him.
Shane's eyes snapped open—and there was Erza, leaning in toward him.
Her delicate hand hung midair, her expression awkward, like she'd been caught doing something mischievous.
"Awake?" Shane didn't think much of it. He assumed she'd just woken up thirsty.
He naturally picked up the cup from the bedside table and pressed it straight into her hand.
"Here. It's warm."
"Mm…"
Her "sneak attack" plan was officially dead. Erza puffed her cheeks in annoyance.
But the warmth in her palm was real—just the right temperature to drink.
With no better comeback, she sat up stiffly, tilted her head back, and gulped down a big mouthful.
"Slow down."
Seeing how bold she was about it, Shane chuckled helplessly.
"How do you feel? Do your wounds still hurt?"
Last night's fight had been rough; he wanted to check her recovery carefully.
But before he could finish—
"Come here."
Erza set the cup down and gave a short, commanding order.
"Hm?"
Shane leaned closer without thinking.
The next second, a warm palm pressed to his cheek.
Erza treated him like she was petting a fluffy big dog—messing up his black hair without restraint, then pinching his cheeks, her fingertips lightly brushing over his brows and eyes.
Only after her palm confirmed his body heat was real did she pull back, satisfied. A bright smile bloomed at the corner of her lips.
"Just surface wounds. I can move around normally."
She stretched, in an excellent mood. "How long was I asleep?"
"It's 9 a.m. About ten-something hours."
Shane let her manhandle his face, but in his head he couldn't help wondering.
Somehow, Erza felt more and more… forceful around him.
It had happened before now and then—but back then it was more like "Ugh, fine—only I can take care of you," a kind of resigned affection.
Now…
It felt like there was a hint of "you belong to me."
Shane's mind immediately flashed to that future, overwhelming, big-sister version of Erza.
Don't tell me… she's really going to turn into that kind of tyrant later?
He shook his head hard, trying to fling the terrifying image out of his brain.
"No. Absolutely not."
"How can she become like that?! I have to correct this while there's still time!"
Erza, of course, had no idea he was having a life-or-death internal debate.
She threw off the blanket and hopped barefoot onto the floor.
"See? Totally fine."
As she spoke, she lifted the hem of her shirt without any hesitation, grabbed Shane's hand, and pressed his palm against her flat, smooth stomach.
That area should've been covered in sword cuts—now there were only faint pink marks left behind.
"See? Doesn't hurt at all."
She smiled so brightly, eyes curved, looking nothing like the defeated, frustrated girl from last night.
"…."
His palm against her skin felt warm and soft, resilient, rising and falling with her breathing.
Looking at her defenseless grin, Shane's worry melted into water.
…Fine. If she gets this happy just from being with me—so simple, so easy to read… maybe that's not so bad.
He sighed, gently pulled her shirt back down to cover her stomach.
Then—like he was fleeing the plague—he retreated.
One step. Two. Three…
He didn't stop until he'd backed all the way to the hallway doorway, a full six meters away.
"?"
Erza's smile froze.
Before she could demand, "Are you disgusted by me?" or something equally explosive, Shane raised a hand and spoke first, face dead serious.
"My 'magic'—the vision thing— is about to trigger."
"For safety, we should keep this distance for a while."
He'd spent the entire night watching the heart-sea, testing and replaying possibilities until he was sure.
With Lancer's progress bar nearing the limit, whatever "dragon aura" Erza carried was no longer a charger—it was the fuse.
If they didn't keep their distance, the vision might trigger early.
And now that the visions could actually harm living creatures… if it manifested inside Magnolia again, Shane didn't even dare imagine the consequences.
So while they waited the half month for Ultear, their "contact time" had to be strictly controlled.
Ideally, no more than twenty hours.
"Getting stronger… shouldn't that be a good thing?"
Erza frowned. The logic didn't make sense to her.
But remembering that city-wide black lake last time, she could only accept it—barely.
Even if her reason accepted it, her feelings didn't.
Shane staying far away from her like she was some kind of beast…
It made her very, very unhappy.
…
Breakfast became painfully awkward.
No one spoke.
Shane prepared food attentively, but—
One person sat at the table, the other stood at the living-room doorway.
Between them lay the "safety distance," a few meters that felt like an ugly chasm.
"Um… I'm going to the guild later. I need to talk to Gray."
Feeling guilty, Shane forced a topic, trying to break the silence.
Erza kept her head down, cutting her fried egg, chewing slowly, ignoring him completely.
"If you don't want to come, I'll be back quickly."
Shane kept talking to the air.
He figured: if they couldn't be close, then at least he should stay visible—maybe that would cheer her up.
"…."
Watching him worry about her, Erza tightened her grip on the fork.
She felt annoyed at herself.
He's doing this for something important… I just woke up—why am I being so petty?
She pressed a hand to her chest, frustrated.
At some point, she'd become more and more emotional around Shane.
Happy because of a single look from him, sad because of a tiny bit of distance, even lashing out because of a possessiveness she didn't understand.
I…
She fell into deep self-doubt.
Just as she was about to say something—to soften the mood—
Click.
A door shutting.
Shane thought she was still angry. Not wanting to bother her, he'd quietly left.
"…."
The living room fell silent again.
"Stupid Erza!"
She shoved the last bite of egg into her mouth and chewed like she was chewing her own flesh.
Her anxiety lasted only a moment—
Bzzzt!
The blue magic sword Flowing Water appeared in her hand, its clear ring crisp.
Erza drew in a breath, eyes sharpening again.
"Emotions out of control… then I'll train."
"If I swore to become stronger, then I start now—so I don't sit around overthinking all day!"
Using that noble excuse to force down the tangled mess in her head, she grabbed her sword and walked outside.
…
Meanwhile—
Shane rushed into the guild hall.
The moment he stepped over the threshold, he saw a crowd packed in the center, loud as ever.
"Go, Natsu! Take down that exhibitionist!"
"I've got 500J on Gray!"
"Place your bets, place your bets! I'm backing Natsu today—Gray's on a two-win streak and he's getting cocky!"
Shane glanced once—
Sure enough, Natsu and Gray were brawling in the middle, trading punches and kicks like they were having the time of their lives.
"GRAY!"
Shane charged in without hesitation, plunged into the crowd, and yanked Gray out like he was pulling up a radish—right as Gray was about to suplex Natsu.
"Hey! What the hell?! We weren't finished!"
The drunk uncles who hadn't gotten enough of the show immediately started complaining.
Natsu howled too. "Shane! Don't butt in! I'm gonna flatten him!"
"I'm borrowing him for something urgent!"
Shane waved without looking back and dragged Gray into a corner.
"Let go! Let go, you asshole!"
Gray fought him the whole way, furious.
"I'm in amazing form today! I was about to smash that upturned-eye idiot! You're ruining a guaranteed win!"
"Guaranteed?" Shane stopped and shot him a sideways glance. "If you kept going, you would've lost."
"Hah?! Don't underestimate me!" Gray bristled.
Shane didn't bother explaining.
They were evenly matched; neither could really overwhelm the other.
But Gray's two wins had made him sloppy, leaving openings.
Natsu was burning with vengeance—mentally he had the edge.
If it continued, Gray would lose.
"Enough. Stop talking."
Shane pinned him against a wooden table in the corner, face serious.
"I've got something important to ask you."
"What kind of thing needs Gray-sama?" Gray instantly stopped struggling.
The moment he heard Shane needed him, he smoothed into a cocky pose—despite the fact his shirt had vanished somewhere.
He tried to look cool, slanting his eyes at Shane.
"Say it. As long as it's not too hard, I might help you out."
"When Ur died…"
Shane ignored the posturing and cut straight in. "Were you there?"
"…."
The air froze.
"What do you mean?"
Gray's expression emptied in an instant—every trace of forced cool wiped clean.
He stared at Shane, eyes sharp. "Are you looking for a fight?"
Ur's death was the wound in his chest that never healed.
He'd always known his arrogance had gotten her killed.
It was the past he hated most—one he couldn't face.
Even if it was Shane… if he dared mock that—Gray would punch him in that smug face without hesitation.
"Don't misunderstand."
Seeing him spike like a hedgehog, Shane sighed.
Explaining the whole "future people time-traveled here" story would be a nightmare, so he chose to skip all of it.
"I'll keep it simple."
Shane locked eyes with him, speaking slowly and clearly:
"Gray… do you want to bring Ur back to life?"
"???"
It was way too blunt.
Too casual—like asking, "Did you eat yet?"
He'd just asked if Gray was there… and now he jumped straight to resurrection?
"People die. How can they come back?!"
Gray froze, then shoved Shane's hand off and turned to leave.
"Don't mess with me. That kind of joke isn't funny!"
"Who's joking?"
Shane grabbed his shoulder, grip like iron, forcing him to stay.
"I'm asking you seriously."
His voice was low, solid. His eyes held no trace of teasing.
"I want a serious answer."
"…."
Under that gaze, Gray's anger faltered.
His expression twisted—doubt, pain, confusion…
After a long silence, he lowered his head, voice rough and dry.
"…We shouldn't change the past."
"Because the past made the present… if we change it…"
"Stop."
Shane cut him off hard.
"I hate those so-called 'big principles' the most."
He frowned, stepping in close.
"I'm not asking about past and future."
"I'm asking you one thing—do you want Ur back or not?"
"Only that."
"Forget the excuses. What's your answer?"
Gray opened his mouth, but the 'mature' speeches stuck in his throat.
"…I do."
His head dropped. His voice cracked, pleading.
"I want… I want to see her again."
~~~
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