The Eastward Boulevard

The East Gate

Drip, drip....Drip.
The last unsatisfactory drip rolled off the lucid folds of the umbrella. The sky is crying softly. I wish it would cry harder for me. I hate to cry so perhaps it can take my share of tears. But it looks like nothing is giving today even after so much has been taken away. Among the sky's tears there is no noise besides the rumble of the cars drifting by. My lungs cramp and I cough quietly into my hand. That poison still sat in my lungs despite Porlyusica injecting us with the blood of Tempest. The dark flecks in my spit remind me that while it can't kill me, I'm still going to be coughing that demon out for days. Coughing, rain and cars driving away. All are perfect and sad noises this evening. Even the clouds, a simple dark gray makes this evening oddly somber and quiet between noises. Everything is either gray or black it seems. From the sky to the city to even me. I wish the sky would cry more. I wish someone would cry for me. 

The rain patters against my damp umbrella again even under a roof ledge and I begin to wonder where my closest friends are. Freed no doubt will be organizing all his sabers and pens into their elegant boxes. Bickslow, no doubt will be taking his dolls on a stroll through the park. One last haunt before they leave for god knows how long. And Laxus...Hell, I've known Laxus for years and still can't guess the guy. Laxus took the ruin of his home better than I expected. Maybe because he is hardly there anymore he no longer sees it as his home. At least I think so...I wonder what I should be thinking or feeling. I feel confused and perhaps I should. I feel angry and I'm sure I should. But I mainly feel lost which makes me feel uncertain, and I know I should. But I have my family. We are one of the few groups staying together after the death of our home, that makes me grateful. The evening begins to stretch into night, and I know my family will be arriving here soon to depart Magnolia. It is one of the few times I have ever been early. It is my own little private goodbye to this city. And my destroyed home. A car swished past and splattered water against the path where my feet stood proudly. Is that soot in the water? It is hard to tell against all the gray and black. The umbrella closed almost sadly above my  head yielding the spattering rain to my face and my glasses. I smell it in the air, the harsh smell of soot and ash. It mingles in with the smell of rain and wet cobble stones. Again it is quite fitting. I cough again into my hand and shake the black flecked mess away. The rain washes down my hair and face freely as I step out from under the roof. They should be here soon. And it almost seems as if the sky is crying harder, maybe now it is crying for me. I turn to look down the street, just instinctively. But maybe I was meant to, and perhaps the sky isn't crying for me but him. A large looming figure steps out from a dark ally towards the east gate, the gloomy wet street lights catching his hair. Even wet it looked like snow. I observe him silently as he adjusted his duffel bag on his shoulder under the street light. I can't make his expression. He shrugs his shoulders and looks up into the street light above him. I wonder what it is he is looking for. And then he looks at me. I wasn't hiding from him, nor was I making my presence known. And yet as soon as he sees me he freezes up and almost looks as if he is going to back away. We stay like that. A silent showdown, the person to act first loses. But he doesn't back away. He found some nugget of bravery in him and squared his broad shoulders under the light and reluctantly approached me. I've debated what I should feel after finding myself homeless, and know I debate what I should feel seeing him. I felt angry. Angry that he let a demon posses him, angry that he turned my home into a desolation. But it is all his fault...

And then he steps closer, and in the gray and black light of night I see his eyes. They were once blue but now a deep gray in the light, but I also saw sorrow. And anger of his own. But I don't think it was for me...

"I didn't think anyone would be here" he muttered and shouldered his wet bag. It is true. The east gate is the closest to Fairy Tail. The closest to the wreckage and doom of it, people now avoid it for good reason.