Author's response:

to FlamingSkyDragon: Go on YouTube and try to find Al Snow's lecture(s) on the wrestling terms "heat" and "pop". This is a wrestling story line, after all.

to TurboWolf: Because I enjoy torturing my audience, and because see my above response.

It's certainly been a while. I was going to focus on my Sekirei fic for pretty much all of 2019, until I realized I'd left this fic in the middle of an arc. So, I'll do me best to finish it up and at least end the arc before my next 4-month hiatus. Special thanks goes out to one of my beta-readers, SilverSoul XIII, for pointing out that this chapter lacked meat.

So I threw in one of the meatiest characters you're ever likely to see in real life. Because, as I believe I told one of my doubters in the reviews, this isn't WWE "sports entertainment". No, this is WCW, the year is 1998, and the upcoming pay-per-view is Halloween Havoc. SHPEAK TA ME, WARRIAAAAAAHS!

The School of Hard Knocks, Part 6:

Getting a Date for the School Dance

"I'm gonna level with you, bro: you couldn't have picked a worse time to interfere."

Vinny's office was a lot grungier than Lisanna thought it would be. She'd imagined the owner of such a wealthy business like the FWF living almost like royalty, in a pristine white marble citadel with silk tapestries hanging off the walls depicting the greatest moments in wrestling history; a red carpet leading up to a luxuriously carved wooden throne, where Vincent Ferrara would sit atop his empire of combat sports entertainment.

Instead, "Uncle Vinny" had a desk. Not a big desk, not a stone desk, just a normal, everyday wooden desk, the kind a merchant would count money or sign contracts on. His chair was a sturdy but otherwise normal wooden chair; in fact, it looked like someone stole it from a merchant-class dining room collection. The floor was carpeted in green, though it had a spongy feel to it, like there was some secret layer between the rug and the floor joists. No windows lit the room. Instead, a single lacrima cast a soft magical light on the walls, which were lined with old, faded title belts, the gold luster dimmed by age. Each was hung on a wooden kite shield, like a hunting trophy, and some of the worn-down letters hinted at their origins in federations besides the FWF.

"I had it all planned out, bro," said Uncle Vinny, leaning back in his dining room chair, arms behind his head. "Ravenlohd and Grand Pawpa Pump goin' at it, da winner fights Doc McGraw at Gran' Slambuhree."

His eyes cast their gaze across the wall, over the many aurelian title belts adorning it.

"Dis was my chance to get the Ultamate Renegade out, big up Pawpa Pump as the next contender so he'd show." Uncle Vinny turned, giving the back of his chair to the guild wizards. "Now Rex looks like a dawk who can't get the jaub done, an' Ravenlohd's got grounds to ask furra rematch."

Lisanna stepped up. "Excuse me, but would he have honestly won if Natsu hadn't helped him?"

Vinny looked up. Even with how he stood, it was clear that the wheels in his head were turning. He knew this business better than anyone in that room, or even in the building, a consummate professional who had a plan for everyone under his employ. It was then, Lisanna realized, that he wasn't considering the result. He was considering whether or not he should tell them the result.

After much deliberation, Vinny finally spoke. "I think so."

He turned back around, settling back into his chair.

"Now, I gotta go the only course I got." His thick greying hair swayed atop his head as he looked at Natsu. "You want Ravenlohd?"

"HELL yeah I do!" Natsu shouted.

"How bad you want 'im? 'Cause he's a pretty tough goiy."

Flames leaked from Natsu's mouth. "Roasted and crispy!"

"Take it easy, Natsu," Cana said, worriedly eyeing Uncle Vinny. Lisanna saw it, too: the self-proclaimed Mad Genius of Pro Wrestling had a glint in his eye, the same kind a cat might have when it's about to pounce on a mouse.

"How long you been gunning for him, bro?"

"Yeeeears," Natsu snarled hungrily.

"You wanna see him bleed?"

"Natsu-!" Elfman tried to shoulder his way between the two, but it was too late. He was shouldered right back to where he'd been standing.

"ALL OVER THE SAND!"

Vinny slammed his hand on his desk, so hard it made the drawer rattle, and pointed at Natsu. "You got him. At Gran' Slambuhree, you're goin' awn in the main event, bro."

"ALL RIGHT!" Natsu was pumping his hand and already marching out the door. "I'M ALL FIRED UP NOW!"

"Natsu, wait!" Cana ran after him. "You don't know what you're getting into!"

Elfman remained silent on the whole matter, listening as Cana chased Natsu down before he glared at Vinny. "A real man is honest about his conditions."

That left Lisanna and Ultear to look at the open door, then at each other, and then at Uncle Vinny.

"If Natsu isn't delivered back to us," leered Ultear, "in pristine physical condition, you'll be hearing from us, our S-Classes, and our Guild Master."

Vinny held up his hands. "I'm gonna level with you, bro: that kid's gonna see the absolute worst side of dis business. If he can walk the walk, he can come back and pick every fight he waunts to from now awn."

Slowly, deliberately, Ultear leaned forward and put her hands on Uncle Vinny's desk. Credit to Vinny, but he didn't even glance at her bust, even though it was literally right in front of him. Truly, a consummate professional.

Either that, or he was too preoccupied with Ultear's hands. Beneath her fingers, the wood began to crack. This wasn't Arc of Time; Lisanna could see the muscles in Ultear's arms rippling, willing her fingers to flex and her body to remain locked in place. She was a crazy-strong wizard, literally.

"What perchance is 'the worst side of this business'?" the Time Mage asked. Her tone was even but carried all the subtle menace of a looming guillotine.

"The kinda thing we nohmally save for the absolute, final blow-auff," Vinny answered. "If that kid's had it out for Ravenlohd for as long as he has, den we can work with that, bro. Nothing gets the crowd pumped like a good stawry."

Uncle Vinny leaned forward. "So not only are we gonna keep the Jail House up, but you're gonna have yourselves a Pergrande Pit Fight."

Frowning, Lisanna raised her hand. "Excuse me, but what exactly do you mean, 'we'?"

"I mean," said Vinny, "you're gonna be in his corner, probably."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Seriously, Natsu, wait up!"

Natsu was making a beeline for the exit, through the winding masonic corridors of the ancient coliseum. The sparse lights from the ever-burning candles on the walls cast the cuts of the stone down to a blur. Their age was a testament to their staying power, yet Cana was still afraid Natsu's enthusiastic stomps would shake the bricks loose. Fairy Tail's reputation for property damage was well-respected (begrudgingly), but property damage against the FWF's S-Class roster? The only disaster that recipe could net was a mob of angry wrestlers punching the guild hall to death, board by board, window by window.

Cana sighed as she pulled out a pair of magic cards. Why does the guild get the classless ones?

"Wind Catcher!"

With a deft toss, the cards flew past Natsu and exploded into a curving wall of dusty wind, enveloping him like a fishing net and (hopefully) stopping him in his tracks. Regardless, Cana double-timed it to where the wind was dissipating, leaving Natsu coughing his tonsils out with two thumbs jammed into his eyes.

"Warn a guy next time!" Natsu barked, furiously rubbing his dusted seeing-orbs.

"Well I'm sorry, but you were going the wrong way!" Cana snapped back.

"What are you talkin' about?" Natsu finished rubbing and flicked his nose. "I can smell my way outta here. That portal we came through had people smell on the other side, lots of 'em. So that's where I'm going!"

"The only people you're going to find are the wrestlers!"

"How do you know?"

Cana pointed down the hall to a visible archway with bright green and pink symbols zigzagging along the sides, glowing in the dim light. "Because that's The Ultimate Renegade's changing room."

Natsu's eyes widened. "He's in there?!" The Fire Dragon springboarded to his feet and took off running. "C'mon, I want a piece of him!"

Cana sighed and gave up. She supposed Natsu would just have to learn his lesson the hard way. And hard it was, when a black limb stretched out of the wall and caught him mid-stride right in the throat.

Natsu fell the ground, coughing again and glaring at the limb. He knew it belonged to, apparently, because he was growling in rage when its owner emerged from the invisible door on the wall.

"No running in the corridors, boy." Ravenlord seemed to emphasize that word for maximum contempt. "You risk hurting yourself."

"I'LL HURT YOU, BEAK-BREATH!"

Ravenlord snorted and stepped back from Natsu's swing. Growling, he doubled up and moved in, but Ravenlord simply gave ground. Left, right, up, Natsu took shots like Cana took cheap beer: sloppily and with great speed. Unlike the booze, however, Natsu's swings weren't connecting, so much so that a running cross nearly saw Natsu connect with the wall.

The wrestler sneered. "I see you've been practicing for our bout. Perhaps you're not as oblivious as I thought."

"I AIN'T-" Natsu cut his retort. "Wait, how'd you know about that?"

The bird-thing's yellow eyes flashed. "Because, boy, I'm the one who requested it. Mr. Ferrara all but laughed when I suggested there was gold to be found in our encounter." Ravenlord held up a finger. "Ah, but he didn't know that you were part of Fairy Tail, and would leap at the chance to see me when we came to town. He didn't know you were the brainless rock that would challenge the tide for a record third time. And he certainly never thought you'd be stupid enough to jump the barricade."

Ravenlord grinned. "Would you care to guess who thought otherwise, boy?"

When Natsu rushed him, Ravenlord struck with a closed fist at blinding speed, jabbing at Natsu like a trained pugilist. Natsu ducked the swing and his wrestling training took over, sliding over one knee to loop Ravenlord's leg with his arms. From there, the former IK champion took a ride straight into a wall as Natsu swung him around like weaponized tree trunk. Cana's previous fear was unfounded, because the force of Ravenlord's collision didn't even crack the brickwork.

Seemingly frustrated by this, Natsu peeled Ravenlord off the wall and swung him around again, this time throwing him into the other wall, head first. Ravenlord whipped his arms around and snapped a mid-air roll that saw him land sideways on his feet. His following leap smashed his shoulder into Natsu, knocking Natsu to the floor and the breath from Natsu's chest. Even then, he still tried to claw at Ravenlord's face. Credit to the Dragon Slayer for not quitting, much to Cana's resignation.

That all changed when Ravenlord's hands found their way to Natsu's throat.

Cana reached into her deck holster. Play time was officially over.

"Lightning-"

A flock of ravens exploded out of Ravenlord in a shower of feathers, flying around Cana in a slashing, pecking, cawing frenzy. The cards in her hand were snatched from her grasp as all Cana could do was shield her eyes and face. She dropped to her knees as their talons seared shallow cuts along her exposed skin.

"Ravenlord!" she called, keeping hold of her bikini as the strap was cut. "What about the match? The gold?"

"That would be Mr. Ferrara's interest," she heard him reply. "My interest lies before me."

Natsu yanked at Ravenlord's arms, but to no avail. His eyes grew more bloodshot as the fluids found their exit cut off.

"A query, if you will," Ravenlord whispered. It was eerie, how he spoke in a soft breathiness that carried over the cacophony of cawing. "How hard must I squeeze before his eyes pop out?"

Cana could make out Natsu, still struggling, pulling at Ravenlord's hands even as his limbs began to weaken. His kicks subsided to weak flutters. His face went from red to purple and slowly turned blue. His eyes twitched as the muscles lost their oxygen. He looked like he couldn't even summon a spell to save himself.

Then the candles, which hadn't the slightest bit of melted wax on them, blew out. The corridor was plunged into darkness save for the glow of the glyphs on Ultimate Renegade's arch way. As one, the ravens blew away from Cana, giving her an unobstructed view of the… complete darkness she was still in. But ooooh, she was hyped!

Because, standing beside Ravenlord, cast in the glow of the archway down the hall, was a tall, muscular silhouette, topped with a mock of long, raggled hair.

There was a meaty Smack! of an enormous hand hitting a much smaller shoulder. Natsu gasped as the air flowed freely through his throat once more. The fact Cana heard his sandals hit the stones meant he was back on his feet.

"All right, no more mister cool guy!" Natsu punctuated his proclamation with a pair of blazing, fiery fists. "This time, we're-"

Standing before him was not Ravenlord. In fact, Ravenlord was nowhere to be seen. Instead, two wild eyes sat behind two flaring nostrils on a gorilla-like face, painted to affect the appearance of a mask. The shape was unusual, almost like a seraphim angel with razor-sharp wing tips, composed of a trio of pink, green, and black stripes. Wild, unkempt hair spilled down over his face, swaying with each heavy breath he took. With one hand, this man grasped Natsu's own, cutting the light in half.

Natsu's mouth dropped. Hardly surprising, for even where she was, Cana could feel how hot his dragon fire was burning. This guy took it like a champ, not even a twitch to hint at the pain he felt. That is, if he felt it.

The twin fires of his eyes seized hold of Natsu's, fixing on him as he slowly turned his head from side to side. His lips pursed, and he spoke.

"Naht yehhh-t." A thick, rumbling finger was held in front of Natsu's face. "But shooooon."

Natsu only stared, dumbfounded, as this mountain of flesh, paint and tassels placed his mighty hand on Natsu's remaining light, plunging the corridor into darkness. One by one, starting from behind Cana, the candles along the wall relit themselves. Even before they reached Natsu, it was clear the mysterious figure had returned to parts unknown.

"Canaaa!" Lisanna's voice echoed off the masonry. "Natsuuu! Where are you?"

Natsu and Cana both stared at each other for a solid minute until their guild mates caught up with them.

"Finally." Ultear was the first to reach them, leaning on her knees as she examined the two, and their bewildered, wide-eyed shock. "Did something happen?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lisanna thought she'd be stuck in the woods babysitting Natsu, from how badly he'd wanted to fight Ravenlord. So, it came as a surprise to her when Natsu suggested they all go back to Fairy Tail.

"You sure you're okay, Natsu?" Cana asked as they strode through the portal and back through Magnolia's gates.

"I'm feelin' good!" Natsu shouted, throwing his fists in the air. "I'll get that jerk in seven days' time, where everyone can see me do it."

"Wait a moment." Ultear stepped in front of him. "So what do you call ten minutes ago?"

Natsu's face wrinkled up in disdain. "I call it gettin' jumped. Kinda glad he did it, actually. Made me realize I still got work to do."

Lisanna groaned while Ultear smiled. "Then I'd be happy to help you train," said the Time Mage. "If Ravenlord is on par with an S-Class… Would you like me to take your place, Natsu?"

"No way! I picked this fight and I ain't backing out now!"

Ultear shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"So, Cana," Natsu asked, falling a step behind to look her way, "Ravenlibrary's a big deal, right?"

Cana shrugged here bare shoulders. "If you're a fan."

"And that Grand Slamboring next week is gonna be jam-packed with fans, right?"

"...Hopefully?"

"So they all think he's a big deal, too, right?"

Cana was hesitant to answer that one.

"RIGHT?!" Natsu barked. "Owowowowow!"

"Hush, Natsu," scolded Ultear before releasing his ear lobe. "It's late. People are trying to sleep."

This was true; they'd reentered the neighborhood of stone walkways and housing rows. Column upon column of windows stretched down the street, as far as even Lisanna's keen eyes could see, and nary a single one showed signs of life, not even a forgotten candle. It seemed either one embraced the Monday Night Mania, or rolled over and fell asleep, with no middle ground between.

"Anyway," Lisanna continued, "what do you think, Cana? Is Ravenlord popular?"

Elfman grunted, drawing attention to himself as they scaled the flight of paved steps leading to the park. "Everyone knows he's no pushover."

"Great!" Natsu barked, before a threatening pinching-motion from Ultear quieted his tone. He turned towards the grass, a menacing grin on his face as he smacked a fist into his palm. "I wanna stick that jerk on a spit and roast 'im good where everyone can see him."

"You do realize," Cana said, "that if you use magic, they'll ban you from competing for life?"

Natsu waved her off. "Ah, I'm not worried, long as the ref doesn't see me."

"That's not how it works, Natsu," said Elfman. "Normal rule breaking is forgiven-"

"Even encouraged, it seems," Ultear observed.

The big man nodded. "But no magic is the one rule nobody breaks. Doesn't matter if the ref sees it or not, doesn't matter how sneaky it is; the instant someone uses magic, they're banned, for life."

"WHAT?! Ow!" Natsu swatted Ultear's hand away. "Why didn't anyone tell me that?"

Now it was Cana's turn to scold him. "That's what I was trying to do, knucklehead! But someone was in a hurry, apparently."

"Well how was I supposed to know? Uncle Vinny seemed like a trustworthy guy!"

Elfman snorted. "Yeah, you can trust him, all right. Trust him to do what's best for his business."

Lisanna tugged on her brother's sleeve. "Is there some way we could convince him to change the rules?"

"'Fraid not, sis," Elfman said, shaking his head. "I hear that if they start using magic, then suddenly they're a Dark Guild running a fight ring. That rule keeps the Magic Council off their back."

"So, in summation," Ultear said as they just about neared the guild hall, "Mr. Ferrara has seen fit to feed Natsu to one of his best stars, knowing Natsu's history and thus making it all the more garish for Ravenlord to brutalize him."

As they entered the front door, they were greeted by a pack of bare tables, empty chairs, and no occupants save for three aging wizards and one disgruntled barmaid.

"Ah, my -urp- children return to me," Makarov hiccuped. "Oh Mira, dear, pour me another?"

From how quiet Mirajane's retort was, she didn't want the old coot to hear it.

"Have fun, kids?" asked Ur, sipping from her own mug. "Was it as exciting as you hoped?"

Ultear sighed. "More so than I anticipated."

Ur frowned, placing her frothing beer stein on the counter.

Gildarts glanced at her. "You know Shade's gonna lose it when he sees those counter spots tomorrow."

"Then 'Shade' can chill out," Ur shot back before turning to her daughter. "You sound disappointed."

"I am… conflicted, Mother, to say the least."

It wasn't like her daughter to hesitate; Ur knew that better than anyone. "About what?"

Ultear sighed. "On the one hand," she said, "Natsu succeeded in spoiling Ravenlord's bout. He also secured a bout of his own next week."

Makarov took the news rather well, spitting out his beer and hacking and coughing up a, "Pfwhat?!"

"And the bad news?" Ur inquired, eyeing the befuddled face on the guild master.

Ultear took her mother's hands, held them aloft, and backed away. Lisanna did likewise, as did Elfman. The safest place for Cana was apparently behind the counter.

Ultear looked her mother in the eyes as she said, "Natsu's bout will be a Pergrande Pit Fight."

"WHAAAT?!"

Makarov's thunderous bellow preceded his growth to giant size, his massive form blocking out the light fixtures on the ceiling. His eyes were like two white tunnels of oblivion, the kind people described within near-death experiences. The tree trunks his fingers resembled swung down and grabbed Natsu in one fell swoop, lifting him so he was face-to-nose with the angry force of nature.

"Natsu do you have any idea what you've agreed to?" roared Makarov. Ultear was too afraid to remind him of the late hour.

"I just wanted to-"

"The Pergrande Pit Fight is one of the most savage and brutal gladiatorial contests on the continent," boomed the guild master. "In the kingdom of Pergrande, it's used for public executions. What in the name of the First Master made you agree to go through with it?!"

"I didn't know, okay? I heard Ravinglark was gonna fight me and got excited! Uncle Vinny didn't even tell me what kind of match it was!"

"Hmph." Makarov's size began to shrink with his temper; his shirt and jacket rematerialized on his body. "Then I suppose I'll just have to go to his place of business and… resolve this."

A big, unnervingly wide grin split the diminutive man's lips. "Might I have a volunteer to come with me? Mirajane?"

The elder Strauss sister rolled her eyes, until she caught what Makarov was implying. Flashing an evil grimace of her own, she cracked her knuckles and somersaulted over the counter. "Let's go, grandpa."

Nodding and waving goodbye, Makarov stopped at the front door. "This won't take long."

Twenty minutes later…

"Mira, take it easy!"

"Get off, Lisanna!"

Mira was inches away from smashing up a table, yet another sacrifice to add to the growing pile of kindling coalescing in the middle of the guild hall.

"I understand you're upset, but breaking things isn't going to help!"

"It'll help make me feel better!" Mira snarled, throwing Lisanna off of her shoulder before she axe kicked another table to splinters. "Gone! Not a trace!"

Back at the bar, Makarov's fingers were splintering the countertop; he looked like he was preparing to take a bite out of it. "I should've guessed there'd be magic involved... While I hate to agree with the Magic Council, they're right to be wary of this 'Uncle Vinny'. I'd heard of teleportation magic, but I never thought it could be used on so grand a scale."

"Cheer up, Gramps!" Natsu beamed. "So Vinny took his arena somewhere else. So what? All I gotta do is beat Rakin'-Lord and show 'em both not to mess with me."

Makarov's finger massaged his wrinkled, balding temple. "Natsu… Do you know what lies in a Pergrande fighting pit?"

"No," Natsu admitted, "but it's like a cage, right?"

"Yes," said Makarov. "However, that's not the end of it. Pergrande blacksmiths produce a metal wire for their prisons and livestock pens that has hundreds of tiny saw blades aligned with the metal. They call it 'razor wire'; even a light brush is painful."

Lisanna, having picked herself off the floor, settled in next to Natsu, opposite Ultear on one of the few remaining unsmashed pieces of furniture. A look at her rival confirmed what she was feeling: the same foreboding sense as Lisanna.

"A Pergrande fighting pit's bars are wrapped in this razor wire," Makarov continued, "and if one fighter can't win by besting his opponent, then his only hope is to climb the bars and escape, with nothing but his bare hands."

Tiny "saw blades" Makarov had said. One slip of a hand which was bound to be slick with blood and sweat already, and…

Everyone, including Gildarts, winced at the thought.

"But that's not the worst of it." The drop in Makarov's tone seemed to carry its own echo, purely from the depths it reached. "While the fight proceeds, there are spectators lining the outside, passing weapons in through the bars. Nothing that could kill outright, for that would mean a quick fight. Chains, wrenches, silverware, some of it wrapped in razor wire, even a few magical things have been used. Sometimes, if the outsiders are feeling especially cruel, they'll force the fighters to reach through the razor wire and retrieve the weapons themselves, all without armor of any kind. It's a horrible, horrible way to die, and the fact this so-called 'promoter' would use it for sport is sickening."

Makarov locked eyes with Natsu, as serious as a grass mimic. "Is that something you're willing to go through, Natsu? To subject your body to that kind of punishment?"

At first, Natsu didn't respond. His brow furrowed in contemplation as he itched his crop of pink hair, staring down at the floor joists. Lisanna was more worried about why he was taking so long. Few things were subtle about Natsu, but there was a tiny, nigh-uncatchable giveaway between his "What should I say" face…

And his "How do I put this?" face.

"Way I see it," Natsu said, matching Makarov's look with one of his own, "these clowns want me to back out. They gave me a fight I've been wanting for a long time, but then they slapped this big, scary cage fight on, without tellin' me. Probably expecting me to get on my knees, beg 'em to take me out, so Ravenloafer can go have his three-way with Steiner and McGraw."

He didn't see it, but Lisanna did: Ultear's face turned red like someone just spent an hour spanking it.

"Well, those jerks ain't gonna get it. Weaverlord's got no magic, no toys, nothin' inside that cage but his own two fists." Natsu's eyes fell to his hands. "Same as me."

He met Makarov's gaze once more. "This is the best shot I'll get at him. If he's on the payroll, Cana says he's as good as an S-Class. And if he's that good, then I'd have to wait 'til I'm S-Class to take him. I owe him a black eye, and he owes a town their farm spirit, and that cage is my ticket to punch his."

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Both Natsu and Lisanna's eyes fell upon Ultear, her hands coming together again and again, complementing the wry smile she wore.

"Well said, Natsu." Her fingers laced themselves and she leaned forward on the table. "I look forward to being in your corner."

Her eyes met Lisanna's, and right at that moment, Lisanna knew she couldn't go through with this. Uncle Vinny made it very clear: there would be blood in a Pergrande Pit Fight, lots of it. Lots of that "lots of it" would be Natsu's, while the most powerful non-Fairy Tail wizard Lisanna had ever encountered would be hammering at him like a rock in a quarry.

Lisanna had witnessed Natsu being beaten. As a child, she'd seen plenty of blood shed by the ones she loved. She'd even seen Ravenlord in action, how cruel he could be while toying with people. None of those things bothered her. Together, though?

Just imagining it now, the vision of Natsu laid out on a bloody wrestling ring, with Ravenlord smashing him in the face with a razor wire cudgel while a crowd screamed for more blood-

"Nooooo!" Lisanna groaned, turning into Natsu's arm and pulling him close to her.

"What the-?"

"Natsu, it's not worth it!" wailed the Strauss girl. "Since when have you cared what Ravenlord's thought of you? He isn't worth something like that!"

Natsu, through the watery haze that obscured Lisanna's vision, seemed flustered. "He thinks so, and that's enough for me." Lisanna thought she saw a grin on his face. "C'mon, Lisanna, it's me! I'll be fine!"

Lisanna let out a soft, disheartened sigh, blinking away her sadness and turning away. "If you really want to do this, I… I won't be there."

Then she felt a hand on her head.

"It's fine, Lisanna," she heard Natsu say. "I understand."

He understands… Lisanna sniffed and trekked across the hall, around the kindling pile to the hall's giant wooden gates. But he's still going through with it.

She didn't dare look back, for fear Natsu might change her mind.