A Dangerous Proximity

Waking up had never been one of Kaia's talents. She had always envied those rare, heroic souls who sprang out of bed with the sunrise, full of purpose and optimism, as if life itself had baked them a fresh batch of destiny muffins. Kaia was, unfortunately, not one of those people. Her mornings were a negotiation with gravity, willpower, and an ever-present sense of cosmic betrayal.

But nothing not even her most dramatic attempts at sleep could have prepared her for the way she woke this morning.

Her first awareness was warmth luxurious, heavy, and far more substantial than her threadbare blanket back in Magnolia. Her second was a gentle, unfamiliar weight draped across her side. The third, and most alarming, was the unmistakable realization that she could not move her arm.

She blinked blearily, sunlight already sneaking past the curtains, and took stock of her situation. The world, it seemed, had shifted overnight. The room was still, bathed in a honeyed light, the bed soft and cradling. But her arm, her right arm, was trapped.

Correction: her arm was being used as a pillow. By Erza Scarlet.

Kaia stared, wide-eyed, afraid to even breathe.

It was difficult to decide what to panic about first. The fact that Erza S-Class mage, destroyer of demons, alleged soup-maker was pressed close beside her, her face soft in sleep, red hair a tangle across Kaia's shoulder? The arm draped firmly across Kaia's waist, possessive and utterly unconscious? Or perhaps the realization that, at some point in the night, Kaia herself had shifted in, not out, of the contact, as if her traitorous body had finally decided comfort outranked dignity?

She swallowed, hard, her heart hammering so loudly she was certain it would wake Erza. But Erza was still asleep her lips slightly parted, one brow faintly furrowed even in repose, as if somewhere in her dreams she was still scolding Natsu or cataloguing proper sword maintenance. It was, Kaia admitted, a bit adorable. Terrifying, but adorable.

This is fine, Kaia told herself, with the calm of someone discovering their house was quietly on fire. This is not the weirdest thing to happen in Fairy Tail. This is : 

Erza shifted, sighing in her sleep. Her grip tightened just a little, pulling Kaia an impossible fraction closer.

Kaia froze, every muscle protesting, then silently began composing her will. If I am incinerated on the spot for this, let it be known that I died bravely, doing absolutely nothing wrong, probably.

Very slowly, she tried to extricate her arm. Erza mumbled something, nuzzled closer, and Kaia's efforts faltered. She considered, briefly, just screaming and accepting death.

Is this what cats feel like when you pin them with a blanket? No wonder they plot against us.

For a moment, she simply lay there, letting her thoughts swirl like startled fish. The warmth of Erza beside her was, objectively, the most comfortable thing she'd ever experienced. She wasn't sure what disturbed her more the intimacy of it, or how much she didn't actually want to move.

Get a grip, Kaia. You're a wizard, not a 

"Kaia…" Erza murmured, voice thick with sleep.

Kaia went perfectly still, heart in her throat. She dared a glance at Erza's face, only to discover Erza's eyes fluttering open slowly, reluctantly, like the dawn itself.

For a suspended moment, neither spoke. Kaia waited for the world to end.

Erza blinked at her, brows knitting in confusion as she registered the scene: arms entangled, distance erased, pillow ramparts shattered.

A slow flush crept up Erza's cheeks. Kaia felt her own face go red in sympathy. Surely this was the kind of situation that caused minor magical explosions in old romance novels.

Erza spoke first. "Good morning."

Her voice was perfectly calm, which Kaia suspected was a lie. "Uh. Good morning?"

Silence. For one wild moment, Kaia considered feigning sleep or death, but her dignity such as it was held.

Erza didn't move. She just regarded Kaia with an unreadable expression, then, to Kaia's shock, smiled small, rueful, as if she too couldn't quite believe how the night had rearranged the furniture of their lives.

"I appear to be… in your personal space," Erza said at last, almost formal.

Kaia found her voice. "Technically, it's the bed's fault. Beds are tricky like that."

Erza's smile widened by a fraction. "I suppose they are."

They stayed there, the moment fragile and absurd, and Kaia realized she didn't want it to end not because of the confusion, but because of the unexpected safety. After so many nights sleeping with one eye open, waiting for the next disaster, this was… different. Not what she'd ever expected to find, but something she wasn't quite ready to give up.

She summoned her courage. "If you ever snore again, I'm using you as a shield in the next bandit attack."

Erza actually laughed—quiet, a little surprised, but genuine. "Fair warning."

Slowly, as if by unspoken agreement, they disentangled themselves, each moving to the edge of the bed with the exaggerated care of bomb disposal experts. Kaia flexed her reclaimed arm, wincing dramatically.

"I think my arm's asleep," she muttered. "Or maybe just traumatized."

Erza ran a hand through her wild red hair, face composed but the tips of her ears pink. "It survived."

"It better. I need it for magic. And uh other important tasks, like breakfast."

Breakfast. The word alone brought her back to the present, to the smell of something yeasty drifting up from the kitchen, and to the comfortable, if mortifying, normality of a new day in Fairy Tail.

The bathhouse's mirror, mercifully, was less judgmental than Kaia's own thoughts. She splashed water on her face, straightened her hair, and reminded herself that this was not the first, nor would it be the last, time Fairy Tail life left her flustered and confused.

Downstairs, the inn bustled with life. Old ladies shuffled cards in the corner, a cat slept on the windowsill, and the innkeeper served up thick slabs of toast and a dubious, magical jam that sparkled when it hit the sunlight.

Erza joined her at the table, as composed as ever, if slightly quieter than usual. Their eyes met, and for a moment, a private understanding passed between them: No one would speak of this. It would be stored away, carefully, like the memory of a favorite dream.

"Did you sleep well?" Erza asked, her tone perfectly neutral.

Kaia raised an eyebrow, matching her. "Like a log. You?"

"Like a boulder."

They broke into grins, the awkwardness melting into something warmer, friendlier, a secret only the two of them shared.

As they finished breakfast, Kaia felt the tug of the road of Magnolia, of the guild, of whatever chaos awaited them next. She was eager to return, but a part of her knew that something subtle had shifted between her and Erza. Nothing dramatic, no thunderclap or fireworks. Just a quiet, unspoken trust, a sense that maybe, she belonged here more than she'd realized.

The journey back to Magnolia was brisk. The world was alive with early summer, the roads busy with merchants and adventurers, the air bright with magic . Erza walked at Kaia's side, matching her pace not too fast, not too slow, always close enough that Kaia could sense her presence.

They talked, sometimes of nothing, sometimes of everything about bandits, breakfasts, armor polish, and the future. Sometimes they were quiet, and the silence was easy, companionable.

As Magnolia's gates came into view, Kaia felt something rise in her chest a giddy, trembling hope that she tried (unsuccessfully) to hide.

"Home sweet chaos," she said, unable to keep the smile from her voice.

Erza nodded, her eyes bright. "Home."

Before they entered, Kaia hesitated, catching Erza's arm.

"Hey. About this morning thanks for not freaking out. I mean, it was… weird, but not bad. Actually, kind of nice. For a disaster."

Erza looked at her for a long moment, then squeezed her hand once, gentle and strong. "Weird is fine. As long as it's ours."

Kaia's heart did something undignified and complicated, and for once, she didn't try to argue with it.