Jet and Droy

Droy is helping Kinana clean the beer mugs for dinner. Despite Cana's absence from the guild, Fairy Tail's consumption of alcohol has increased tenfold, leaving even the most sane members of the guild in a perpetual state of drunkenness. The purple haired teen has her eyes glued to the ivory washcloth, yet she doesn't know half of the pain.

She doesn't know the pain of watching your childhood friends disappear before your very eyes. She doesn't know the pain of having your guild, once a symbol of strength, be reduced to the laughing stock of the magic world. Jet's fists shake, and he feels his lips start to tremble.

She doesn't know the pain of watching your best friend grow so bloated in size. For seven years, he has seen Droy consume food faster than he can digest them, somehow trying to fill the emptiness in his heart (where Levy used to be) with a superficial feeling of fullness.

Because,for seven years, both Jet and Droy have been empty.

Wakaba

While most of the other guild members have increased their drinking proportions, Wakaba has stopped drinking at all. Kinana, every day, asks if he is not feeling well. Wakaba pales at the question. With shaking hands, he receives the drink she brings to him.

He stares down into the glass, only to see Cana's face looking back.

Macao

He doesn't know how to do it.

He doesn't know how to piece together a guild that was already broken.

Max

Max knows that he has always been weak. Not one for fists, he has always used his self-pronounced charisma to get himself out of problems. None of the guild members have ever faulted him for it, until today.

"We were so close,"Wakaba said, "To advancing to the next round." Max was under the angry glares of all his guild mates, and he feels himself tearing up in shame.

"Fairy Tail is last, for the seventh year in a row!"

The words sting more than Max knows, for everyone keeps their tears bottled inside. Macao, in a strained voice, tells them all to retreat. There is no lecture, no mention of his name, no angry whispers behind his back.

Never has his guild mark been so heavy.

Alzack and Bisca

"Mama, who are they?"

The question drills into her skin, and Bisca has to remind herself to breathe. Alzack keeps his eyes pressed on the morning paper. Bisca does not answer immediately, but, when Asuka does not show any signs of leaving, she takes a sharp inhale.

It's because of them...

"I love you," said Alzack, and Bisca spits out the water she had been sipping on.

"W-what?"

"I love you," said Alzack. "And I am not going to wait until the end of the world to tell you so. I am not going to wait I can't say it anymore, because my voice is too hoarse from age, or you've married someone else, or Fairy Tail finally crumples to the ground, or, hell, Makarov and the others finally decide to save our sorry butts from the depths of despair, and I love you."

"They were our friends," she said, choking. Her daughter doesn't know how much it is killing her just to wake up everyday, with a freaking hole in your heart, and her daughter doesn't know that she is bleeding and dying a little everyday, and her daughter doesn't know that she is made out of the stuff of fairies.

Instead of sleeping, Alzack stays up waiting. When he sees a familiar spark of pink hair, he doesn't believe his eyes.

Warren

Warren never went to the guild much anymore. It brought back too many memories.

Instead, he took job after job after job, not staying long enough for the perpetual sadness of the guild to sink in. Perhaps this is why he isn't quite sure what to expect when a familiar picture falls out of his jacket pocket, and he stops in his tracks. He stoops down, picking it up with trembling fingers.

It was a photo. A photo he had carried around with him for the past two years, that he had all but forgotten to look at in his hurry to forget. He stares at it, looking at Max and Macao and Wakaba and Romeo and Kinana, and feels a wave of nausea pass over him.

These days, Warren doesn't leave the guild at all. He hugs his guildmates tightly, engages in brawls, and laughs with his family. Warren waits.

Warren waits because Warren remembers.

Romeo

For the first few months, Romeo would wait up all night, thinking of all the things he would say to Natsu when he first saw him. His ideas had been fine tuned over time. The first few weeks he had dreamt up some sarcastic one liners, but, after a while, when it became evident that they weren't coming back, and Romeo became drained of ideas, he went to sleep earlier and earlier. One day, when he went to sleep at his regular time, Macao looked at him in fear.

"What are you doing Romeo," his father asked shakily, forcing a smile. "Aren't you going to wait up for Natsu?"

"No."

A 13-year old Romeo entered the guild quietly, not acknowledging the particularly mournful faces.

"It's been exactly seven years," he heard his father whisper, choking back deep sniffles. Romeo sunk down next to him, a funny, empty feeling growing in his chest. After seven years of absence, he would have thought that their faces would be blurred, and their memories all but forgotten. Yet, their images in his mind remained picture clear, the scars they had dealt still bleeding from the blow.

"Come on, dad," Romeo said. "Don't cry. Crying is only for the weak." Macao raised his head, glaring at him with one ebony eye.

"Romeo, are you scared of crying?"

"No, of course not Dad, I just don't see the point of it. It doesn't solve problems, it just-,"

"Crying doesn't make you any less of a man. From victory and defeat, crying and running-that's what makes us who we are! It's okay to cry!"

And that's how, for the first time in seven years, Romeo cried.

After Seven Years

"We're home!"

Natsu flashed his guild a cheshire grin. It wasn't long before he and his friends were ushered inside and comfortably seated, with thousands of questions to answer and lots of partying to be done. Mirajane took her place at the bar stand once more, and Gajeel, for once, was allowed to play his songs without anyone hindering him. The dragon slayer huffed a sigh of relief, still trembling from the recent events. He felt a cold hand land on his shoulder, and he smiled.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Gray. Why, worried about me?" Natsu asked in a mocking tone, and the ice mage snorted.

"No way, pyro."

Natsu turned around, inspecting the bandages that lined Gray's abdomen. He pressed his hand on it, and the ice mage winced considerably.

"What?"

"...hurts."

"Where did you get that anyway? It's like you actually tried to...oh." Natsu said, his words puttering out at Gray's expression. He was looking away uncomfortably, looking reluctant to answer any more questions about it.

"NATSU!" Romeo said, and both mages turned to face the thirteen year old teen. His hair had grown long and shaggy with negligence, and a fairy tail mark was now displayed proudly on his shoulder.

"I didn't miss you at all!" he said. "I'm much stronger than you now, and-," his words stopped after that, and he bit his lip uncomfortably. Gray smiled inwardly, and Natsu let out a hearty laugh.

"I missed you too."