The Frog and The Beast

The Beast Chapter 14

I recently found myself watching Juvia more and more. Don't ask me why; I honestly can't pinpoint the reason. Perhaps it's because the other people I watched didn't seem as interesting, aside from Natsu. But even he can be a bit much at times with his incessant chatter. Maybe it's because she brought one albeit pitiful act of kindness out of me. Or maybe it was just a random whim. I really don't know.

When she wasn't at school, Juvia worked part-time at a grocery store, bagging groceries for customers and organizing carts. The pay wasn't great, but the employment gave her half-off on groceries. At home, she took on the role of cooking, cleaning, and helping the kids—Romeo and a girl named Meredy—with their homework. Most girls her age couldn't stand housework or kids. Well at least, the girls I know couldn't stand them.

I noticed that Juvia really liked books, music, theater, and, of course, roses. In her free time, she would immerse herself in novels and listen to show tunes. On weekend nights, she and the kids would put on performances inspired by their favorite stories. I'll never forget the first time I saw their theatrical rendition of The Wind in the Willows. On her way home, she would often stop by a floral shop, literally taking a moment to "smell the roses" in the window displays. Sometimes, the shop owner would give her the rose blooms that had been accidentally cut off during pruning, and her reaction was as if she had just received a 24-karat gold and diamond necklace.

But my observations didn't stop with Juvia; I also learned more about Gajeel. It turns out I had misjudged him. He wasn't a drug addict; he was being coerced into selling drugs by that leech Jose. In reality, he was a good guy. I watched him pocket money from Jose to buy food and clothes for his foster siblings, often surprising them with small gifts—a new baseball for Romeo, a cheap but pretty charm bracelet for Meredy, and a single rose for Juvia.

Gajeel was also a closet romantic, writing love poems and songs for his girlfriend, Levy. A college freshman with dreams of becoming a literary professor, she was on the shorter side but undeniably beautiful. Her hair was a lighter shade of blue, reminiscent of aquamarines, and her skin had a delicate strawberry-and-cream tone, as Jenny would probably describe it. With her big, hazel eyes, she was as sharp as a whip—probably the smartest girl in the world—but also incredibly sweet. She often asked Gajeel about his family and how she could help them, and she frequently tried to persuade him to leave the drug trade behind.

"Why don't you just go to the police?" I overheard them arguing outside a diner one night.

"Levy, we've been through this before. If I squeal on Jose, we both go down. I'm as deep in this as he is."

"But it's not your fault! He made you do this. You were just a kid when you started."

"I'm not a kid anymore. I'll be tried as an adult."

"Not if the courts knew you were an unwilling accomplice."

"But there's no proof that I was forced. It'll just be my word against his." Gajeel sighed. "And the man is crazy, Levy. There's nothing he wouldn't do to get a fix. One time, I tried to back out of a cocaine exchange, and he locked me out of the house, threatening to shoot Juvia, Meredy, and Romeo if I didn't come back with the goods."

Levy's expression shifted from frustration to fear, and I could see the weight of Gajeel's words settling heavily on her shoulders. "You can't let him control your life like this," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're better than this, Gajeel. You have to find a way out."

Gajeel ran a hand through his dark hair, a gesture of both frustration and helplessness. "I know, but it's not that simple. Every time I think about leaving, I remember what he's capable of. I can't risk Juvia and the kids. They're my family now, and I'll do anything to protect them."

Levy reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

Gajeel looked at her, his eyes softening. "I don't want to drag you into this mess. You deserve better."

"But I want to be with you," she insisted, her voice steady. "We can face this together. You're not alone in this fight."

They embraced and kissed, their affection palpable. For a moment, I found myself questioning whether true love still existed in the world.

Yet, amidst that fleeting thought, my concern shifted to Gajeel. Just how insane was that Jose guy? My answer came five days later when I decided to check in on Juvia. She was alone in the house, engrossed in a book, when a loud banging interrupted her solitude. I watched as she opened the door, only to have a hand seize her wrist.

"Where is it?" It was Jose, his eyes glassy and wild, as if he were under the influence. A wave of unease washed over me—should I call 911?

"What's 'it'?" Juvia replied, her voice steady despite the tension.

"You know what I mean. What did you do with it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." She remained calm, managing to wriggle free from his grip and attempted to return to her book.

But he lunged at her again, pulling her close. "Give it to me."

"I don't have it anymore."

"Bitch!" He slapped her hard across the face, and she stumbled, falling to the floor. "I need that! Do you think you're better than me, that you can steal from me? Hand it over!"

He advanced toward her, ready to grab her again, but she quickly regained her footing, darting behind a table for protection.

"I don't have it," she insisted, her face a mask of pain, struggling to hold back tears. "I threw it out. I flushed it down the toilet."

"Flushed it? A hundred bucks' worth of cannabis? You—"

"You shouldn't have it! The cops are getting suspicious! If they catch you, we'll all end up in jail! Doesn't prison scare you?"

In a fit of rage, he lunged at her, but his unsteady footing betrayed him. She seized the opportunity, bolting past him and out the door, racing into the street. Suddenly, Gajeel roared up on his motorcycle, slamming on the brakes just in time to avoid hitting her.

"Damn it, Juvia!" he exclaimed, yanking off his helmet. "Do you have a death wish or something?! I could have turned you into instant roadkill!"

But his anger dissipated the moment he noticed the bruise on her cheek and the fear flickering in her eyes.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice softening.

In that instant, she burst into tears and collapsed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. He wrapped his arms around her, offering comfort.

"Hey, it's alright. It's alright," he reassured her gently.

I wished I could reach out to her too.