The next morning, Rayne woke up early, washed up, and jogged toward the guild.
Even in the early hours, the summer sun already carried a hint of heat. Golden light draped over Magnolia's streets like a shimmering veil. The murmur of pedestrians filled the air as the city slowly stirred to life.
A few passersby noticed the unfamiliar boy running under the sunlight. At first, they looked surprised—but then they spotted the emblem on the back of his hand.
Ah. That explains it.
People from that guild could do just about anything without it being strange.
"Such stereotypes!" Rayne grumbled internally at their reactions.
Still, he didn't slow down. Following the route he'd memorized the night before, he soon arrived at the guildhall.
The front door wasn't fully closed, left slightly ajar. As Rayne approached, the pungent smell of alcohol hit his nose.
"Did they all pass out drunk?"
His expression turned wry—but considering who they were, it wasn't exactly shocking.
(He didn't realize he had just stereotyped them the same way.)
Pushing the door open, sunlight spilled into the dim interior, revealing the aftermath of last night's chaos.
Tables were overturned. Barrels lay on their sides. Empty mugs littered the surfaces, and sticky puddles of half-dried booze coated the floor.
And then there were the bodies—a tangled heap of grown men piled atop each other like casualties of war.
Laxus was among them, though he'd at least managed to curl up alone in a corner.
Rayne didn't need to have been there to guess what happened.
"Knowing his personality, he probably got provoked into joining the drinking contest."
"At least they don't have a 'naked wrestling' habit."
He shuddered at the mental image.
His gaze shifted to Makarov, who was hugging a barrel like a teddy bear, one hand absently scratching his belly before he muttered something in his sleep.
"Hey there, Rayne! You're up early!"
A cheerful voice came from behind him, followed by an exasperated sigh as the newcomer took in the scene.
"I get that they were excited about a new member, but did they really have to go this hard...?"
Rayne turned to see a young woman—one of the guild members from last night.
"Oh right, I'm Caroline! Just call me by my name. Or 'big sis' if you're feeling sweet~" She grinned, rubbing the back of her head.
"Morning, Caroline." Rayne offered a small smile, politely sidestepping the "big sis" suggestion.
"Aww, no fun." She pouted playfully. "Wait here for a sec—and cover your ears."
"Huh?"
Before he could ask why, Caroline expertly weaved through the wreckage, took a deep breath—
—and Rayne felt the magic particles in the air surge.
Realization struck. He immediately clamped his hands over his ears.
"WAKE UUUUUUP!!!"
The entire building shook. Dust rained from the ceiling as Caroline's voice tore through the guild like a dragon's roar.
Even with his ears covered, Rayne's skull vibrated from the sheer volume.
"GYAAAAH!!"
"CAROLINE, WHAT THE HELL?!"
"Five more minutes…"
"WHO STUCK THEIR FOOT IN MY MOUTH?!"
"You idiots! You wanna embarrass yourselves in front of the new kid?!" Hands on her hips, Caroline transformed into a full-on drill sergeant, her earlier cheerfulness nowhere to be seen.
Bleary eyes turned toward the entrance—where Rayne stood, silently watching.
"This is all YOUR fault!!" Laxus snarled, face burning at the thought of his rival seeing him like this.
"Hmph. Quite the lively bunch," Dreyfus's amused voice echoed in Rayne's mind.
If the rest of the world woke up gently, Fairy Tail's awakening was more like a bomb going off.
———
Despite the hangovers, recovery was swift for a guild of mages. Within an hour, the hall was spotless again.
"Ahem." Makarov cleared his throat, his pride still bruised from last night's display.
(He'd meant to discipline them, but somehow he ended up blackout drunk instead. So much for setting a good example.)
"Rayne, you—" He paused, studying the boy with mild surprise.
Sure, Rayne was still wearing yesterday's clothes, but his face was fresh, his posture alert. More importantly—his eyes.
That hollow look from before was gone, replaced by a sharp, determined glint.
"You slept well, I take it?"
"Yeah. Porlyusica's medicine helped."
Between the long walk, testing the Boosted Gear's limits, and the mental strain, Rayne had collapsed into bed the second he took the gauntlet off.
Maybe due to his enhanced physique, the lingering effects of the potion had accelerated his recovery. Not even a hint of soreness remained.
"Good." Makarov nodded, though he knew no medicine worked that well.
But everyone had secrets. As long as they didn't harm the guild, he wouldn't pry.
"Rayne, you know our guild takes on jobs for pay. But you're still too young, and your magic..." He trailed off, choosing his words carefully. "For now, you'll assist with guild tasks."
"Understood."
Rayne wasn't foolish enough to demand dangerous missions yet. Laying low was the priority.
As for chores? No issue.
He wasn't shameless enough to freeload—not when Makarov was offering training too.
"Good attitude." The guild master smiled. "Follow me."
Leading Rayne through the back door, they emerged beside a wide, sunlit river. A crisp breeze ruffled Rayne's hair as the water glittered under the morning light.
Makarov stopped, turning to face him with a solemn expression.
"Now… about your magic."
———