The guild hall slept in pieces—lanterns guttering low, chairs half-turned, mugs abandoned where laughter finally gave out. A floorboard sighed; a banner rustled; somewhere a barrel ticked as it cooled.
Ryuji stood at the tall window, shoulder to the frame, looking out at Magnolia's quiet roofs. Cold night air slipped through the gap like a ribbon, cool against his skin, silvering the last of the lantern smoke.
Ryuji (murmur, to himself): "All this... warmth. Do I... deserve it?"
Footsteps soft as paper. Wendy stepped into the lantern's edge, hands folded at her chest, Carla hovering a polite distance behind.
Wendy (gentle): "You do. You're not alone anymore."
Ryuji turned. For a heartbeat his chest tightened; his cheeks warmed. The starlight touched Wendy's hair like a faint halo, and the guild's quiet seemed to lean in and listen.
He reached out—hesitant at first, then sure—and took her hand.
Ryuji (low, sincere): "Thank you... and thank Fairy Tail... for saving me from my loneliness."
Wendy's breath caught; her fingers fluttered and then curled around his. She blushed to the tips of her ears, but she didn't look away.
Wendy (soft, steady): "The day we met, I could feel it—your sadness. I wanted you to know you didn't have to carry it alone."
Ryuji searched her face, words tumbling up clumsy and honest.
Ryuji: "I... want to stay by your side. Always."
Wendy's eyes widened; color brightened her cheeks.
Wendy (tiny nod): "I... I want that too."
They both looked down at their hands, then back up—two brave, red faces and a new, quiet understanding. Not a promise shouted into battle, but a vow made in starlight.
Across the hall, Carla folded her paws, satisfied. She drifted back a few steps more, granting space without ever leaving guard.
Ryuji let go only to move—toward the corner where an old upright piano waited, its lid dusted with glittering flour from earlier cakes and confetti. He sat, tested a key; it chimed soft and true. Wendy slipped away and returned with the violin, tucking it beneath her chin. The violin bow settled in her fingers like breath.
The hall breathed with them.
Ryuji set a slow, hopeful progression; Wendy slipped a thin, bright harmony over it—two threads, different and steady, weaving.
They began, soft and sure.
🌸 Song of Bonds 🌸
(Piano & Violin Duet: Ryuji & Wendy)
Verse 1 (gentle, piano leading)
In the silence of the night,
I once walked alone, no guiding light.
Shadows clung, the past was near,
But a voice broke through — soft, sincere.
(Violin joins softly with warmth.)
Chorus (both rising together)
Now I see the stars above,
A sky of hope, a gift of love.
Family found where none should be,
A bond unbroken, setting me free.
Verse 2 (piano slower, violin tender)
You reached for me with open hands,
Showed me joy I couldn't understand.
Every note, each song we share,
Turns my sorrow into care.
Chorus (stronger, violin soaring)
Now I see the stars above,
A sky of hope, a gift of love.
Friendship's light will never fade,
Even through the darkest shade.
Bridge (piano slows, violin almost like a voice)
Though the night still whispers pain,
I won't walk that road again.
For in your smile, I finally know,
The strength to stay, the strength to grow.
Final Chorus (full, emotional)
Now I see the stars above,
A sky of hope, a gift of love.
Hand in hand, we'll face the day,
Together we'll find a brighter way.
Outro (piano soft, violin fading like starlight)
Family found, we're not apart...
The song of bonds within my heart.
The last chord hung like frost in moonlight.
Wendy lowered her violin, letting the bow rest at her side, heart fluttering. Ryuji's fingers stilled on the keys. They looked at each other and, without needing to say it, knew the truth of the feeling blooming there—new and bright and safe.
They didn't notice, at first, the other quiet in the room—the kind made by people trying very hard not to disturb something important. Heads were tucked into crooks of arms, blankets pulled to noses, eyes half-cracked with sleepy pride. No one moved. No one joked.
Mira, curled on a bench near the bar, smiled into her sleeve. Erza, eyes closed and composed, sat sentinel by a pillar. Natsu and Gray had somehow fallen asleep back-to-back on the floor without punching each other. Lucy's hand rested on her keys; Happy snored a soft "aye..."; Gajeel pretended to be asleep and failed. Levy's pen lay still over unwritten notes. Even Master Makarov, in his high chair, cracked one eye and let it close again, content.
Wendy (whisper): "Good night, Ryuji."
Ryuji (whisper): "Good night, Wendy."
The breeze cooled, the lantern dimmed, and Fairy Tail slept—together—while starlight traced two small, steady silhouettes by an old piano.
Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima/Kodansha. I only own Ryuji Kazuma and this fan story. Non-commercial fan work.