Archive of Our Own ^beta

Juvia Lockser’s morning had been nothing short of fabulous. She had woken to the warmth of sunlight spilling through her curtains, the beams painting her room in gentle yellows as they shone through her curtains. She sat up slowly, stretching her arms high above her head in a long yawn, her slightly knotty hair tumbling around her shoulders.

Her bare feet brushed against the wooden floorboards, cool to the touch, as she padded towards the window. She opened the latch and swung it open, the morning greeting her with a symphony of birdsong.

In the neighbouring fields to Fairy Hills, the cows had already begun lapping around the fence, their calves darting here there and everywhere as they chased each other through the dew-kissed wildflowers. She shouted good morning to them, and they looked back at her like she was strangest woman in the world.

She inhaled deeply, and couldn’t hold back the smile that bloomed on her face.

The guild only seemed to strengthen her joy. She’d gone very early in the day so only those that worked the bar and a couple of stragglers were there, but that was all she needed. Mira offered Juvia her usual kind smile from behind the counter, and she returned the warmth in kind. The master was there too, sat hunched over at one of the tables and surrounded by a hefty amount of paperwork. He paused his grumbling to wave to her, and she grinned back at him. Warm. Fairy Tail was so, so warm. After a quick glance at the job requests, deciding nothing struck her fancy, she went to do her morning errands.

She lingered at the flower stall, her fingers gently brushing over petals the colour of a summer dawn, before moving to the bakery. She stood in line with the other townsfolk, tapping the tips of her fingers together absentmindedly while humming a soft tune.

The bakery’s little glass display gleamed with newly-baked goods. Golden croissants, tarts filled with fresh fruits. But her gaze immediately fell on the single, perfect loaf of her favourite sweet milk bread, the thing she bought just near every other day.

Her face lit up. Though she’d attempted it manier times, she’d never quite been able to make bread quite as good as this one, so she always tried to make the trip here to get some. Though the sight of just one scared her, and she approached the counter almost shyly, as if afraid someone might claim it before she could. But the baker, a stout man with flour dusting his apron, chuckled and wrapped it up with practiced hands when he saw her.

“For you, once again, Miss Lockser. I saved it.”

The water mage practically beamed as she clasped the package to her chest. “Thank you very, very much! You have made Juvia very happy, Sir!”

When she stepped back out into the square, the sun was nothing short of brilliant overhead, reflecting off the pale stone of the buildings until the streets glowed. Children darted between stalls, their laughter rising into the air in a way so contagious that she found herself chuckling too.

The loaf was warm against her arm, and she couldn’t help but hold it a little closer. Yes… the world was good today. Bright. Her steps were light and merry as she made her way across the market, her smile soft.

Until she heard them.

Two men stood a few paces away, their heads bent together over a folded newspaper. They spoke quietly, but the words carried lowly through the hum of the crowd

“Did ya hear? That dark wizard slave trader has escaped custody. Apparently, the convert they were transporting him in got completely overrun. He ran off and-”

The cheer in Juvia’s chest seemed to shatter. She stopped, her breath catching as though invisible fingers had clamped themselves around her lungs.

No… surely not. It couldn’t be. There were plenty of dark wizards in Fiore, many of which had dabbled in the evils of the slave trade. There were so many, it wasn’t necessarily him.

You are worthless, rain woman.

Someone bumped into her. The impact was startling, and she stumbled a little, A man’s hand shot out, grasping her arm to steady her. “Oh dear, sorry love!” He said, still holding her as he smiled apologetically. She pulled her arm back quickly, surprised by the contact. “My apologies also.” She murmured quickly, more brittle than she’d meant it to be. She slipped away, weaving through the crowded street with more urgency than she’d like as she moved towards the newspaper stand.

Her hand shot out and snatched the nearest paper, her coins clattering onto the counter. She thanked the vendor quickly. Her fingers trembled as she unfolded the paper despite her attempts to steady them.

Her eyes scanned the headlines.

‘Mount Hakobe Overrun!’

‘Saber Tooth Destroys Historical Crocan Monument in Bandit Chase”

‘Dark Wizard Slaver Trader - Bora of Prominence Escapes Custody.’

The letters seemed to blur before her. Her hands shook harder now, rattling the pages, but she forced herself to keep reading. Maybe it was a misprint. Perhaps the headline was simply fear-mongering and would later reveal that it wasn’t nearly as bad as it was made out to be. But each sentence only pressed the truth harder into her chest.

She reached the end of the article, and the world seemed to fall silent as a vacant emptiness hollowed out her chest. He’d escaped. He’d actually escaped.

All it ever does is rain with you! You’re a freak of fucking nature you miserable, selfish piece of shit!

The memory slammed into her with such clarity that she almost staggered. His cruel laughter echoed in her ears as if he stood right behind her. She blinked rapidly, trying to banish him away.

But when her eyes refocused, she saw that the newspaper was starting to spot with dark stains. Raindrops began to bleed across the print, smearing the ink into formless black smudges.

“Where the hell did this rain come from? The sky was clear a second ago!”

“God damnit, how annoying… I’ll have to put the cover up now. I’m too old to be doing this alone! If I’d known it was going to pour down, I’d have brought my daughter out here!”

“Ugh, I really can’t stand the rain.”

Juvia’s gaze lifted slowly, though she already knew what she would see as droplets fell onto her face. The sunlight had been swallowed by rolling clouds, full to the brim with water.

It was raining. She’d made it rain.

You’re as damn fucking miserable as the weather you make. At this point, just turn into water and never turn back again.

Sellers shouted as they scrambled to cover their wares, dragging tarps and crates under whatever shelter they could find. Fabric stalls sagged beneath the sudden weight of the rain, fruit rolled across slick cobblestones, and feet sloshed against the ground.

Because of her.

Juvia stood rooted to the spot, her fingers gripping the newspaper tight enough to wrinkle its edges. She could only watch as the square emptied in mere minutes. And then there was silence, and she was alone.

Juvia’s gaze drifted downward to the bread she still cradled in her arm. The loaf and its wrapping were sodden, its crust peeling away with entire chunks falling off in soft, yeasty clumps that splattered onto the cobblestones.

A tightness pulled in her chest as she watched it dissolve, until she could no longer bear to hold it. She tossed the ruined bread into a nearby bin with a hollow motion.

Her feet carried her aimlessly until they found a wooden bench on the edge of the square. She sat, the rain trailing down her hair in heavy strands, soaking through her dress until the fabric clung cold against her skin.

She didn’t bother heading dome. It was too far, and the storm would only follow her. It was better she stay here, contained, than ruin the rest of the city’s day too.

So, she stayed.

I’m getting real bored of you, Juvia. You wanna know something? I only dated you because you I thought you’d actual be useful for once and get me into Phantom Lord. You haven’t even done that. You’re absolutely fucking useless.

Her fists tightened in her lap, nails digging crescents into her skin.

What do you mean you thought I wanted to spend time with you? Are you being serious right now? Look at the fucking state of you. You’re a mess. A completely unloveable mess.

The downpour grew stronger, blurring the world before her.

You bring that rain wherever you go. Do you know how selfish that is? No one will ever, ever love you like this. You’re not worth anyone’s time, let alone mine. Maybe you should join the rest of the water in the ocean. The fish might like you more than the people you choose to drench every day.

She closed her eyes. It swelled inside of her. Higher, higher-

“Juvia?”

Her name came gently.

Juvia blinked, her eyes lifting sluggishly. Above her, instead of raindrops, was a green umbrella, its canopy blotting out the grey sky. She followed the handle downward and found Lucy Heartfilia standing there, drenched from the shoulders down. Her golden hair was plastered to her cheeks, concern etched into her face.

“…Lucy?”

Something nudged against her leg. She glanced down to find Plue, Lucy’s usual spirit companion. His tiny arms were reaching upward, like he might try and climb up onto her lap.

“What on earth land are you doing out in this rain?” Lucy’s voice carried over the steady patter of water. She held the umbrella further over Juvia’s head. “You’ll catch a cold!”

Juvia’s unfocused gaze dropped back to the ground. Slowly, her pale fingers reached up and pushed the umbrella away, guiding it back over Lucy’s head.

Her voice came out soft and fragile. “Do not worry about Juvia. You need that more than I.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” the blonde countered, her brow furrowing. “You’re soaked to the bone.”

When Juvia didn’t reply, the blonde peered around at her. Properly looked at her. Took in the vacant eyes, the slumped shoulders, the way Juvia seemed to shrink against the bench. She looked up at the sky again, at the focused, concentrated cloud directly over this part of tow. Without another word, she lowered herself onto the bench and tilted the umbrella carefully, settling it between them so it half shielded Juvia, half shielded herself.

Silence sat between them for a while.

“…What are you doing here?” Juvia asked eventually, her voice faint. What’re you doing out in this dreadful rain.

Lucy gave a small hum, keeping her voice light. “I wanted to check the charity shop on this street for any new books before I headed to the guild. My competition for them, the elderly, seem to always get up at the crack of dawn, so I always have to damn near race them there every week to get the good ones. They probably hate me.” She allowed herself a small chuckle, then paused. “…What’re you doing here?”

Juvia’s fingers knotted together in her lap. She kept her eyes fixed on the puddles forming on the path, on the ripples that broke their surface. “Juvia… Juvia came for bread.” Her words were faint. “You… you has best get to that shop before the elders beat you to the best books. Go on… get out of the rain.”

Her voice cracked at the end, and she dipped her head lower as though the words themselves shamed her.

You will push everyone you hold dear away with that rain eventually. Just wait. It always comes back.

His voice sneered from the corners of her memory. The rain thickened, a curtain falling heavier around them.

Lucy looked at her again. She reached down and scooped Plue up from where he had continued to paw at Juvia’s sodden dress. The spirit wriggled, determined to continue, but Lucy gently plopped him between them on the bench. He took the umbrella’s handle with his tiny hands and held it steady above their heads, seemingly contented and distracted.

The celestial wizard turned back to Juvia. Her voice softened. “…I think I might stay a little longer, if that’s alright with you?”

Juvia’s eyes widened ever so slightly. Lucy didn’t press, she simply waited, patient as the rain pattered on above them. Eventually, Juvia gave a small, hesitant nod.

They sat in silence after that. The kind of silence that stretched on but wasn’t exactly uncomfortable. Not for Lucy, anyway, who busied herself with her skirt, smoothing the damp fabric across her knees and picking at a stray thread with delicate fingers.

Juvia watched the small, mundane motions and a fresh wave of guilt tugged at her chest. She almost hoped Lucy would take the prolonged silence as an excuse to leave. She didn’t want her friend sitting here, soaked and uncomfortable, just because she pitied her.

“The river looks lovely today.”

The unexpected words broke through Juvia’s circling thoughts. She blinked, slightly startled by the softness of the remark. Slowly, she turned her head, and realised Lucy was right. The bench she’d wandered to on autopilot sat just a few feet from the riverbank.

“…It does.” The words came out awkwardly. Juvia had never been very good at small talk and immediately regretted how empty her reply sounded. But Lucy didn’t seem to mind. She kept her eyes fixed on the water, her lips curving in the faintest of smiles.

“I don’t know about you,” she said after a moment, “but I could watch it forever.”

“…Why?” The question slipped from Juvia before she could stop it.

Lucy tilted her head, her blonde hair clinging damp to her cheek. She gave a small sigh. “I’m not sure, really. It just calms me. Watching it flow so constantly kind of anchors me a little, I suppose. It takes my mind away from everything else.”

Juvia didn’t reply. Instead, she followed Lucy’s gaze, her own eyes settling on the water. The river flowed steadily, its ripples shifting and bending around the current.

For a brief second, she saw it the way Lucy did. Endless and soothing.

Then, her eyes caught the surface. The raindrops. Her raindrops.

They pounded into the river relentlessly, breaking its smooth rhythm and scattering it into chaos. Each drop tore across the calm, making it ripple and churn until the water seemed restless, ugly and disrupted.

Her chest tightened, and she looked back down at her lap.

Lucy’s gaze wandered, following the path of the rain, until it caught on the newspaper lying crumpled beside Juvia. The pages were sagging, heavy with water, the ink bleeding into shapeless stains. But through the blurred smudges, the headline still clawed its way clear enough to read.

“What have you been reading?” She asked, reaching down.

“Wait-” Juvia’s hand darted out, but Lucy was quicker. Her eyes caught the words before her fingers even touched the pages.

Her breath hitched. Her hand stopped halfway, hovering over the sodden paper like she’d touched something too hot. For a moment, she froze, every line of her body going still as her eyes widened.

Juvia faltered mid-motion, her own hand suspended awkwardly between them. Plue looked back and forth as he tilted his head, confused at the sudden shift.

“…Are you okay?” Juvia found herself asking. The very question seemed to quiver.

Lucy blinked once, then again more slowly, as if returning to herself. Finally, she exhaled, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach those big, brown eyes. She scratched the back of her damp head. “…Yeah, sorry. I just… didn’t know that man had escaped.”

Juvia couldn’t help but stare at her. Her hand dropped to her lap, curling weakly as she dared to say, “you… you sound as though you knew him.”

Lucy’s smile faltered. Her shoulders slumped a little as she let her hand slide back down, brushing absently over her skirt. Her voice, when it came, was low. “…I did. He damn near made me a slave.”

“What?!” Juvia’s voice cracked in shock. She… she’d never expected someone else here to… to…

Lucy’s eyes drifted toward the river, away from Juvia. Her voice grew a little distant as she spoke again. “…Yeah, it was before I joined Fairy Tail. I was young, Naïve. I barely knew the world outside of the Heartfilia estate before I ran away, didn’t quite grasp the sheer evil some people had in them. Bora told me he was a Fairy Tail wizard. He told me he was the Salamander, funnily enough. He promised he could get me into the guild if I joined him for a party on his ship.”

Juvia could only continue to stare.

“Like I said, I was young,” Lucy continued, her voice growing quieter. “And it had been a dream of mine to be a Fairy Tail wizard for as long as I could remember. So… I went. And obviously it was all a lie. The ship was a slave ship, and I’d stupidly let him lead me right onto it. He tried to drug me, tried to brand me, and back then, I couldn’t really defend myself if my keys weren’t in the equation. Which they weren’t. He’d thrown them out into the ocean. I thought… I thought it was all over. I thought my spirits were gone, and I thought the guild I’d worshipped as a child was nothing short of the purest evil.”

The rain filled the pause.

Lucy’s fingers curled into her skirt, then relaxed, then curled again. “Natsu was the one that saved me, actually. Strangely, that horror was how I ended up finding the real Salamander, who took me to Fairy Tail himself. Well, more like dragged me. He saved everyone on that ship, and he made true on a promise in his name that he didn’t even make himself.”

Lucy finished talking, and she sighed. It had been years since she’d spoken about that day. Years since she’d even thought about it, having shoved it down for a long, long time. Bringing it back up and saying it out loud had left her stomach knotted and her skin prickling with unease. Obviously she’d experienced far worse of what humanity was capable of now, but that was the first time she’d ever actually feared for her life, so it kind of stuck with her. Only Natsu had Happy had ever known the full extent of what happened there, of that brand that had come so very close to permanently marking her body. Now Juvia did too, she supposed.

Eventually, she turned back to Juvia, and the sight made her falter.

Tears streamed down the water mage’s face, almost indistinguishable from the rain, tracing lines down her cheeks before dripping silently onto her lap.

‘Hey… hey, are you okay?” Lucy asked quickly, alarm softening her voice. She reached out, hesitated, her hand hovering uncertainly over Juvia’s arm. “It’s not that bad, I promise. I barely think about it. I’m fine now-”

She stopped herself. Her gaze dropped to the newspaper, and the placement of it. Then upward, to the heavy rain clouds still thick above them. She thought of how suddenly the rain had come on.

Putting the pieces together, slowly, she looked back at Juvia. Her voice was even gentler, now. “Did… did you know him too?”

Her head moved in a nod so small it might have gone unnoticed if Lucy hadn’t been watching her so closely.

“Did he try and catch you as well at some point?”

She shook her head this time, her shoulders hunching inward as she seemed to try and fold in on herself.

Lucy’s chest ached at the sight. Her brows knit together and she leaned in closer. “Don’t feel like you have to tell me if you don’t want to, Juvia,” she said gently. “This isn’t an exchange.”

But Juvia shook her head again, her tears slipping free only to be swiped away quickly with the heel of her hand.

She had never told anyone about this. Not a soul. Not even Gajeel, who had been her only friend (ish) at the time, and not even Gray. Though the urge to do so had been there more than once, the words always seemed to die in her throat, choked out by this terrible fear that if she spoke them aloud, they would start to see her the same way he once had. That everyone would.

You will push everyone away with that rain eventually.

And yet, sitting beside Lucy Heartfilia, having just learned of the horrors she herself had endured from that man, Juvia felt something stir. A need to say it, a need to be seen by another person.

Her voice cracked softly. “…Juvia dated him once. When we were a lot younger and long before he went into the slave trade.”

Form the corner of her eye, she watched Lucy’s jaw fall open. The blonde stared, completely blindsided.

“Seriously?” The celestial wizard’s voice was flat with disbelief.

Juvia gave the smallest nod, wiping away a tear.

Lucy’s mouth closed, only to drop open again a second later. “I’m sorry, what?! How did that slime manage to score the Juvia of the Element Four?!”

The water mage’s head snapped to the side. She blinked, startled. Score me?

The thought sounded strange in her mind. She had expected shock, of course, but not this protective indignation on her behalf.

“How long did you date for?!” Lucy pressed, her whole body turning towards Juvia now. She tucked one leg up onto the bench, leaning in, unable to contain herself. The rain continued to patter against her back and shoulders, but she didn’t seem to care.

“…Only a few months. It didn’t last long,” she admitted quietly. The momentum of being heard kept her speaking. “He-he got bored of Juvia pretty quickly.”

“Bored?! Of you?!” Lucy’s face physically twisted in disgust. “It’s bloody rich for him to say you’re the dull one. Of the short time I spoke to that ape, I aged about a decade.”

The sharpness of the remark caught Juvia so off guard that a sound bubbled in her chest before she could stop it. A light chuckle slipped free. She almost startled herself with it.

“I can’t even imagine what he must have been like as a boyfriend,” Lucy continued, her nose wrinkling. “Soooo full of himself. Every time I saw him, he had a hand in his hair, preening it.”

Juvia found herself chuckling again, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

But as quickly as that laughter came, it faltered.

One way or another, you will always end up alone. You must be able to see that, not even your own parents could love a girl that always brings the rain.

Her shoulders curled inward, and the curtain of her damp, wavy hair slid forward and hid her face. “He was cruel.”

Lucy stopped cold, her half-smile dissolving from her face. She leaned forward carefully, just enough that she could glimpse the tip of Juvia’s nose beneath the veil of hair.

Her voice was quiet. “…He didn’t… he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Juvia’s head lifted fractionally. Her hands flew up slightly. “No, no, goodness no. Not physically.”

Her head lowered again, her fingers twisting in her dress. “Part of Juvia thinks he never dared to go that far. Juvia was a member of the element four, he knew what she was capable of. That she was stronger than he was.” Her voice caught. “…But- but he also knew that, at the time, Juvia didn’t have it in her to stand up for herself against the things he would say.”

Her grip on the fabric tightened. “The remarks and the insults started small, but they grew, and grew, and grew. It made him feel good to be above Juvia in some way, she thinks. And Juvia just… let it happen.”

A single tear slid down her cheek, and she closed her eyes. Ashamed. She was so ashamed of what she had let slide, what she still allowed to affect her even now. She hated that he still had that control over her, that he still got in her head.

She felt a gentle pressure on her knee. Her eyes fluttered open. Lucy’s hand rested there, her fingers warm even through her damp dress. A moment later, another touch followed as Plue’s paw settled right beside Lucy’s hand.

Another tear fell.

“What sort of things would he say?” Lucy asked quietly, her gaze fixed on what little of Juvia’s face she could see. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I think it might be good for you if you got it out.”

Juvia inhaled, a long, heavy breath that trembled through her body.

She kept her eyes lowered, unable to meet Lucy’s.

Her voice, when it finally came out, was a fragile thing. “…He… he used to say that everyone Juvia held and ever would hold dear would leave eventually. That they’d grow sick of the rain she brought with her.” Her hands curled tightly in her lap, brushing Lucy’s knuckles. “He said that Juvia was selfish for trying to live amongst people… instead of just disappearing into the ocean, where she couldn’t inconvenience anyone anymore.”

Her throat caught, but she pressed on as the words tumbled out. “That Juvia wasn’t worth his time, and that the only reason he’d ever gotten with her in the first place was because he thought she might get him into Phantom Lord. He insulted her appearance a lot. He said that Juvia was so impossible to love that only he would ever manage it. And… he got in her head. There was a time when Juvia believed every word. Just like you, Juvia was young. Juvia only ever really wanted to feel the love of another. So much so that Juvia just excused it, thinking it natural for someone like her. Like a rain woman. That it was just the way things would always be.”

Her voice cracked as raindrops pelted the ground a little harder. “That is why she stayed with him. The rain, as he said it, pushed him away, made him hate her, so it figures that the same would happen with anyone else. And the rain- Juvia’s rain just got worse and worse.”

Lucy said nothing. Not yet. Not as a single tear slid down her own face.

“Eventually, he got invited to join the Titan Nose Guild. Goodness knows why, he was a terrible wizard. That was enough for him to leave Juvia behind completely, and he vanished without so much as a word.” Her breath shook. “And yet, even after everything he had done, everything he had said, Juvia still nearly broke in two when he left. That, Juvia thinks, is the thing she is most ashamed of. That it still upset her even after everything he had done. But it almost solidified the feeling that Juvia’s rain really did push everyone away eventually, and that being alone and unloved was inevitable. That thought broke Juvia the most, because other than Gajeel, who was more of a colleague than a friend at the time, she had no one else. Phantom Lord wasn’t a home, and it certainly wasn’t a family. Juvia was… completely alone.”

She placed her shaking hand gently over Plue’s, who made a little sad noise. “Juvia thought she’d seen the last of him after he’d been arrested. All of his involvement in the slave trade should have had him behind bars for good. And then after Juvia joined Fairy Tail, she finally felt like she’d found people that accepted her and that she’d found her place in the world. But seeing that he had escaped… it has just dragged everything back up again. All those memories, that worry that everyone will leave when the time comes. It just shook Juvia a bit, that is all.”

She finished speaking and drew in a long, shuddering breath.

Lucy said nothing, and silence stretched between them. Only the sound of the rain cut through it, and Juvia’s stomach twisted. Her throat tightened.

“…You must think Juvia is ridiculous…” she murmured at last, a little too quickly, forcing a brittle laugh as she lifted her head to meet Lucy’s gaze.

She expected judgment. She didn’t see it.

Lucy’s eyes were glassy. Tears welled there, spilling freely down her cheeks and mixing with her already wet face. She sniffed softly, raising a trembling hand to cup Juvia’s cheek. Her palm was warm, so warm, against her skin.

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy whispered. It was all she could manage.

And that was enough.

The floodgates inside Juvia broke. A sob tore loose from her chest. Followed by another. And another. Lucy leaned forward, gathering her close, one arm around her middle, the other cradling the back of her head.

Juvia buried her face into Lucy’s shoulder, and she cried. A raw sound that tore loose from a place so deep inside her she hadn’t known it was there. She cried for her childhood spent alone. She cried for the years she spent feeling like she would never know the genuine love of another person. She cried for the simple fact that she had told another human being what had happened, and instead of walking away, that person had held her closer. She cried for the family that had accepted her when they had no real reason to. She cried for all of it. For all the fear, the shame, and for the love she’d been given.

“I don’t think you’re ridiculous. Not one little bit.”

Lucy pulled back just slightly, enough to meet Juvia’s eyes, though her hands lingered as if afraid to let her go entirely.

Juvia let her, sitting up straighter, her breath hitching as she wiped at her swollen eyes.

“I…” Lucy began, her voice unsteady as she wiped away her own tears. “I’ve let a lot of things slide in my life because I wanted the love of another person too.”

Her gaze dropped to the ground. “My father, may he rest now, wasn’t a very good man after my mother died. He would shout, swear, throw things, and never spend any time with me. I was left to be raised by the servants. He never even remembered my birthday.”

Her lips pressed together for a moment before she continued, a faint tremor in her voice. “Despite this, I always went out of my way to try and get his attention. To make him see me. To try and make him… love me again. He eventually redeemed himself, but he passed away before I could properly reconnect with him. Before I got the chance to forgive him in person.”

Lucy sighed, shaking her head faintly as a small, humourless laugh slipped out. “I’m sort of going off-piece, sorry.” Her eyes flicked back to Juvia, who was watching her closely. “What I was trying to say was that I understand. I understand glazing over and accepting the bad things a person does because you crave the love of another. I get it, I truly do.”

This time, it was Juvia who reached out. Her fingers trembled at first, but she steadied them and clasped Lucy’s hand.

“And yet,” Juvia said quietly, “even with all those years without love, you carry so much of it. So much light and hope.”

Lucy’s eyes softened before her lips curved into a smile, spreading wider and wider until it glowed across her whole face. She turned her hand so she could squeeze Juvia’s properly, then reached for her other hand and pulled it gently into her own.

“So do you,” Lucy told her. “So much that it’s infectious. You’re a joy, and rooms shine when you walk into them. They always have.”

No one wants you here, rain woman.

Rooms shine when you walk into them.

Two voices clashed in her head, so violently different that she almost couldn’t comprehend it. It made her chest ache.

“You never, ever deserved to be treated like that. Never.” Lucy shook her head violently. “You deserved better, and I’m sorry you didn’t get it. Please know that nothing he did was your fault, and nothing he said was true. We all love you. All of you.”

Juvia couldn’t hold back the sob that once again escaped her, and Lucy simply hugged her tight. Let her cry.

After a while, Juvia raised her head. She sniffed, brushing away another stubborn tear with her wrist, and tilted her gaze up to the heavy sky, still full of rain. “Juvia apologises for this,” she murmured slowly. “Juvia knows it is a nuisance. She just… got a little upset too quickly, is all. It hopefully won’t be long before it stops.”

Lucy followed her gaze, pursing her lips in thought. Then, without a word, she made a small gesture with her fingers. Plue, still dutifully holding the umbrella, perked up. With a little hop, he waddled closer to Juvia until the umbrella covered her fully. Lucy, now left completely uncovered, sat back into the rain.

She extended her arms along the bench’s backrest, tilting her head back and exposing her face to the sky. The raindrops pattered against her skin, gliding down her cheeks, her chin, catching in her thick lashes.

Juvia blinked at her. “What are you doing?”

Lucys eyes remained closed, but she smiled. “Enjoying the rain while it lasts.”

The water mage was taken aback. No one… no one ever enjoyed her rain. Not really. Yet Lucy sat there, the downpour soaking her to the bone, and her gentle smile never wavered.

Juvia’s throat tightened and she looked away. Her eyes drifted instead to Plue, who still stood faithfully at her side with the umbrella over her.

“Excuse Juvia, little one,” she whispered gently, reaching for it.

“Puun!” Plue chirped happily, passing the umbrella into her hand.

She held it for a moment, then lowered it slowly. With a decisive snap, she closed and set it down by her side.

Then, heart pounding slightly, she leaned back against the bench. The rain landed cool and heavy on her eyelids, slipped across her lips, ran down her throat. It was cold but refreshing. Her lips curved, and she found herself smiling into her own rain.

She turned her head slightly. Lucy still wore that small, contented smile, face still up to the heavens. Juvia allowed herself one last look before closing her eyes again.

A long time ago, Lucy had been the first person to ever call Juvia her friend. She was, technically, the first proper friend she’d ever had. Her mind went back to their unison raid, which had always confused her a little. How they had, barely more than strangers at the time, been able to produce such powerful magic had remained beyond her for years. She smiled. Perhaps they’d managed it under such strange circumstances because, deep down, they were more similar than they realised. Similar in a way Juvia had never, ever expected.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, until…

“LUCCYYYYYYY?? YOU HERE???”

Both girls’ eyes snapped open, their heads turning in unison. Natsu sloshed across the other side of the market, nose lifted in the air, eyes scanning wildly.

Beside her, Lucy sighed. She rubbed a temple, but a smile touched her lips. “Here, you bloodhound!”

Natsu’s head whipped towards them. Even from a distance, Juvia saw his grin stretch wide before he bolted over, splashing through the puddles with glee.

“Here you are, I’ve been damn near looking everywhere for you!” He skidded saw to a stop in front of them. “I got a cool job. You’ll love it. Actually, you probably won’t, but it pays well.” He turned. “Oh, hey Juvia! You doin’ good?”

She returned his cheer with a smile. “Hello, Natsu. Yes… yes, I am alright. Thank you.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lucy smile.

“Oh, good,” he said, pushing his drenched hair out of his eyes with a single swipe of his hand. “Gray was looking for you. He got worried when it started raining so suddenly. You shoulda heard him, you’d have loved it.”

The mention of the ice wizard was enough to send Juvia’s blush into overdrive. Her cheeks burned, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

Lucy began to laugh beside her. She turned sharply to glare at her, which only made the blonde laugh harder.

“You’re sure laughing a lot for someone that’s been splashed by a massive puddle wave.” Natsu said.

“Huh? I haven’t been-”

Before she could finish, Natsu stomped his foot into the closest puddle, sending a wave of water arcing straight toward her.

“AAGHHHH!” Lucy shrieked as it splattered across her, leaping up with a furious yelp. “Oh, you little asshole!!”

Natsu was already running, and Lucy took off after him at a sprint, splashing as she stomped, trying to give him a soak of his own. Their laughter echoed through the empty market, mixing with the sound of the rain.

Juvia sat frozen for a moment, then burst out laughing. Her cheeks almost hurt from smiling, but she couldn’t stop.

They were enjoying it. They were enjoying her rain.

Juvia grabbed Plue, cradling him close to her chest, and slowly rose from the bench. Before she followed the two wizards, her gaze drifted back to the river. The surface still rippled under the patter of raindrops.

She had thought that the rain ruined it, but as she stood there, Juvia realised the river was still the river. The current still flowed strong and true beneath the broken surface. It still carried itself froward. The rain didn’t ruin it, it only changed it. And, she realised, there was a strange, quiet beauty in that.

She pressed Plue closer, smiling faintly. No matter what anyone said.

With that, she broke into a run. Her boots splashed through the puddles as she chased after Lucy and Natsu. They were already a blur ahead, Lucy both laughing at and scolding Natsu as he bounded recklessly down the street.

Juvia caught up just as the blonde slowed, letting her fall into step beside her.

“You know what would be a real fun job to do together?” Lucy asked suddenly.

“What?”

“Finding and apprehending an escaped slave trader. Lucy’s grin was sharp and wolfish, and Juvia couldn’t help but smile.

The chuckle slipped out of her before she even realised it. And it was genuine. “Yes. Juvia agrees.”

Lucy leaned closer, her voice lowering. “I’m quite sure Gray would enjoy such a job too… if you gave him some context.”

Juvia’s steps faltered a little. She looked down at the wet cobblestones, processing what Lucy was trying to say. Her chest squeezed, but not in fear. Not entirely. The thought of telling Gray what had happened to her suddenly didn’t feel quite so damning. It felt… freeing. Like she could finally, truly move on.

And maybe, just maybe, she would feel lighter for it.

She lifted her chin and have a small, firm nod. Lucy’s answering smile was bright and proud.

“Oi, you two! Quit the chit-chat and hurry up!” Natsu’s impatient voice rang out ahead of them in a half-whine, half-command.

Lucy rolled her eyes. Juvia laughed softly. Together, they ran faster, their footsteps splashing in unison as they followed him back towards the guild.

By the time the great wooden doors came into the view, the storm had passed. Sunlight poured over the streets, and the sky stretched out before them. Clear, endless, and brilliantly blue.