Nalu oneshots

Shot 3: He Sees Beneath Her Mask

Lucy's first day of university was unremarkable—at least, it was unremarkable if you were the sole heiress to the Heartfilia fortune and used to your father being far more concerned than you were about outward appearances. In the midst of rushing walkers and bikers of all descriptions, Lucy was ushered onto the sidewalk in front of the registration building by the reliable, middle-aged chauffeur whom she'd known for years. While the majority of the students around her wore t-shirts of all descriptions paired with "lived-in" looking jeans, Lucy looked trim and demure in a crisp white blouse, perfectly-tailored navy capris, and pretty, matching sandals. She had the kind of accessories that didn't need a logo to tell you that they were expensive.

Her father didn't get out—he was already taking time out of his busy day to ensure that Lucy arrived on time and in proper style—but he did roll down his window and briefly clasp Lucy's hand. His words of farewell were more admonishing than encouraging, however:

"I'm still not sure about this place, Lucy, so remember our bargain: you can go here as long as you don't let yourself get dragged into any trouble by some of the weirder types you sometimes seem to hang out with—and as long as you meet your social obligations for the family and the company."

"Yes, Father. I understand. And I haven't forgotten next week's charity ball on Thursday evening." Lucy's serious, deep brown eyes stayed focused on her father, despite the stares she could feel from her soon-to-be classmates, especially the girls—women, she corrected herself silently.

Jude Heartfilia accepted Lucy's assurances, cast a last, scathing look at the chattering, excited students, and waved the chauffeur back to the car. He managed a tight, unconvincing smile for his daughter, and then put up his window and leaned back in his seat, a big, shadowy figure behind the tinted glass. Lucy's smile in return was more convincing and yet somehow also sad. She watched the big car glide away, and as soon as it had disappeared around a corner she sighed, squared her shoulders, and turned to hurry toward the registration area. Unfortunately, she stepped right into somebody's path—although 'trajectory' might have been a more accurate word.

"Ow! Sorry!" Only long years of dance and gymnastics kept Lucy upright.

"Hey—look where you're going!" cried the human missile, as he spun around with Lucy in a rather tight, although apparently unintended embrace. He was more agile than he seemed, though; he didn't stagger as they parted, and his hand under her elbow helped her own efforts at balance.

Not surprisingly, they eyed each other curiously once the world stopped spinning. The human missile was actually a young man of medium height and decidedly athletic build, with spiky, cotton-candy pink hair, dark grey-green eyes, and a dusting of freckles. Lucy saw the dark eyes widen slightly as he examined her in turn. The clothes and shoes and so on were bad enough, she thought, but anybody would stare at her up-swept golden hair, which had been formed into a perfect chignon at the back. It was very pretty—and made her look like a 1940s actress at an evening party rather than a regular university student of many, many decades later.

"Are you going in to register?" Lucy asked, determined to be friendly and polite.

"Huh? Oh, yeah—I think so?" The pink-haired guy ran a hand through his spiky locks and then grinned cheerfully. "I mean yeah, yeah I am! That's a pretty good hairstyle—is it a new thing? I'll bet you could hide notes and weapons and stuff in it!"

From behind Pink-and-Spiky, a slightly taller, leaner man muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "idiot". Lucy realized that she hadn't even noticed the second man, and then flushed slightly when she realized that he was wearing cargo pants belted loose over boxers and not much else. He was a bit less odd than Pinky—Lucy had a tendency to first give and then refine nicknames—but he also seemed slightly dangerous. Maybe it was the stylized bird tattoo on the right side of his chest, or his very dark eyes and hair. If I wrote these two into a story, he'd be Emo-Guy for sure. I'll bet he broods well. And Pinky would be Leaps-Before-Looking-Guy or Runs-Into-Trouble-But-Likes-It-Guy. They're both pretty attractive though.