Author's Note: Just a quick disclaimer that Fairy Tail does not belong to me. Also, I know there is some arc in the anime that involved Kinana and Cobra, but for all intents and purposes this story is using canon material. So please don't complain about that in the comments. Thank you! Hope you enjoy.

1. Stuck Moving On

Murmurs from the city filled his ears. The thick, rustling leaves of the magnolia trees for which the town was named absorbed most of the noise, but whispers bled through the branches. Cobra closed his eyes and took in the sound, listening for one voice.

He couldn't hear it. Not yet. But there were still some miles to go.

A sneeze ruined his tranquility. Nothing aggravated his sensitive nose more than the sweet pollen from these bobbing white blossoms. Cobra didn't know how she could live here, in this despicable city. If this was, in fact, where she even resided.

It has to be here, he thought to himself as he trekked on through the woods. Magnolia Town was where her voice was the loudest. She had to live here, or somewhere nearby. He just hadn't found her in all the ruckus. He picked through the woods for weeks, climbed Mt. Hakobe, searched Magnolia's sewers, swam the canal, and infiltrated every little hut surrounding the town. It was a blessing no one in Crime Socière was particularly inclined to work with him, otherwise he would have made no progress in his search for Cubelios. It was difficult enough trying to find time between tasks for the organization.

Cobra squinted at the sun dipping behind the trees. He only had a few days before risking Jellal's suspicion. Honestly, he thought Crime Sorcière's unofficial leader would understand Cobra's relentless pursuit for his lost friend, perhaps he was even aware of it, but Cobra didn't want to appear weak in front of his comrades. After nearly a decade, the search seemed desperate and childish even to him. She was just a pet, after all, he had heard them thinking. Nothing but an oversized reptile he couldn't even speak to. How can he claim to hear her voice now, when he'd never heard it before?

Sometimes he wondered the same thing.

It was nightfall before the trees broke and revealed the edge of town. Warm yellow light poured from the windows of quaint houses, and the gentle groans of those last few boats on the canal echoed across the brick. Cobra closed his eyes again, letting the soft sleep sounds wash over him. He could hear the buzz of lacrima in the lampposts, parents whispering bedtime stories to their children, crickets in the grass. There was the shuffle of a raccoon digging through the garbage, the chiming of keys as last-shift workers closed up their shops, moans of pleasure coming from an apartment window. When Cobra opened his eyes, he'd resigned himself to finding a room in a motel and starting fresh in the morning.

Then, he heard it.

The melody swelled from the dark of an alley, as high and sweet as the flowers in the trees. And, like those blooms, the music took his breath away. Cobra dove headfast into the maze, letting his ears guide him toward the sound of her voice. He would not lose her this time.

He followed the song to the edge of the canal. Water scattered the music in the breeze, bouncing each precious note against a cobblestone. Cobra scanned the street, but there was no one except for a man docking his gondola. The song was fading into starlight. He had to do something.

"Hey!" he called to the man across the canal. "You! You hear that?"

The man stopped and listened. "The singing? That's just some girl who crossed the street."

"Girl?" Cobra muttered. "Which way did she go?"

The ferryman waved in a general direction as he finished tying up his little boat. Cobra set his jaw and took a few steps back, getting a running start before he leapt across the canal. The ferryman cried out when the strange cloaked figure landed on the dock beside him, but he didn't have time to question the impossible feat before Cobra started running toward the girl's singing. Briefly the ferryman considered the pretty wench's safety, but her pursuer was already out of sight.

Cobra kept running until he reached a small cluster of shabby townhouses lined along the dim, empty street. The murmurs from within each dwelling blended together into a monotonous, tired drone. The song was over. Cubelios was gone.

Sometimes, Kinana liked to sing to him.

He was always asking to hear her voice, and singing to herself seemed much less conspicuous than talking to herself. His soft pleading echoed in her head even now, begging for a word. She surveyed the quiet twilight out of habit, and opened her mouth to sing one of her favorite tavern tunes.

"The lovers, you've seen them;
They're famous in town.
The wife of the baker,
whose bread is renowned.
And then there's the blacksmith,
His hammer so great.
Why you should have seen them
their very first date.

O that baker, he left her,
all on her own,
One weekend, for Balsam,
she felt so alone.
The blacksmith, he saw her,
and offered her brunch.
And before you knew it,
they were meeting for lunch.

Timid and blushing,
she reached for his hand.
'My baker, you've seen him,
he's not a great man.
He's silly and foolish;
He can't talk a bit
about reading or science,
or town politics.
It's true that he's pure
and his bread is divine,
but I need a man
I can love for his mind.'

Laughing, the blacksmith,
he pulled her right up.
'My darling,' he called her,
'It's a pleasure to sup;
My mind, as you've seen,
is the keenest around,
I doubt that you'll find one
any sharper in town.
But by to-morrow morning,
I promise you this,
it won't be my mind
that you'll wake up to miss!'"

Kinana giggled as she walked up the stairs to the townhouse she shared with Laki, and blushed. The voice in her head was gone; maybe the song was too crude for him. Just as well—it was hard to focus on what Laki was saying with him whispering to her.

She unlocked the door and peered inside. Her friend snoozed on the faded green sofa, evidently waiting for Kinana's safe return home. Guilt wiggled around in her chest. She hadn't told Laki she was taking the late shift again.

The sleepy mage woke up when Kinana closed the door. "Oh, good, you have arrived to our abode," Laki yawned, sitting up. "I was beginning to feel concern at your tardiness."

"I'm sorry, I took another double shift and forgot to tell you," Kinana said.

"That is an acceptable excuse. We do need the monetary compensation for your labor." Laki twisted a bit of lavender hair around her finger, looking down inside of her thick glasses. Work was hard to find for mages unaffiliated with a guild. There was no way Laki would join Twilight Ogre, those brutes who treated Fairy Tail so mercilessly after the Tenrou Island catastrophe. Luckily, her uncle charged them cheap rent for the townhouse.

"We've saved up a lot of money," Kinana said cheerfully, setting down the lukewarm leftovers from the restaurant. "In a few more months we should have enough to move, and get a fresh start."

"A fresh start," Laki repeated with a small smile. "Have you thought about to which society we should relocate?"

Kinana considered the question as she unwrapped her hamburger. "Maybe Balsam Town," she suggested, thinking of The Baker and the Blacksmith.

"Why Balsam?"

"I like bread."

Laki gave her a look, but didn't bother to point out that Balsam Town wasn't exactly known for bread. Like Kinana had learned to interpret Laki's unusual vocabulary, Laki had grown to accept Kinana's disjointed, random reasoning. Kinana plopped down next to her on the sofa and handed her a veggie burger. She put a hand on the mage's arm. "We could go anywhere, Laki. There's nothing holding us here." Except ghosts, she added silently.

"You're correct," Laki agreed, fiddling with the wrapper on her burger. "Nothing is here for us."

They finished eating dinner, chatting about lighter topics, and then went to bed. Kinana sang in the shower, even though the voice hadn't asked for an encore. She stepped out when the water grew chilly, squeezing her voluptuous curves in a threadbare towel. Her room was also bare, with the exception of some Fairy Tail mementos—a picture of the guild, her old uniform, some other odds and ends. Her room wasn't decorated with family photos and paraphernalia collected from childhood like Laki. Kinana didn't remember much from before Fairy Tail, and what she did remember was blurry, dark, and sad.

If she had family, they weren't looking for her.

Kinana whistled these thoughts away. She changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed. "Goodnight, you," she murmured to the voice in her head. "Sorry for the song, I'll sing you a nicer one tomorrow." She waited for a response, and when she received none she hummed the last bars of a lullaby until she fell asleep.