Fairy Tail: Lost One

Chapter 53: Peaceful Vacation

At the plaza, a large crowd had gathered, drawn by the commotion — heads turning, footsteps slowing, market stalls momentarily forgotten as people pressed closer to see what was happening.

Someone in the crowd wondered out loud, "Is that... the Bloodstained Lady?"

"The Bloodstained Lady?" another asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"You know — the one who brings justice by punishing corrupt nobles," the first replied, voice hushed with a mix of caution and fascination.

Whispers rippled outward. Necks craned. Attention snapped fully back to the two figures at the center of it all.

"Then why is she attacking him?" someone else wondered, studying Rudra more carefully — his plain clothes, his unremarkable bearing. "He doesn’t look like a corrupt noble to me."

"Noble or not," another voice cut through, certain of itself, "he must be some kind of villain. That’s probably why she’s here. Serving justice."

Murmurs of agreement spread through the onlookers.

Rudra, still holding the girl’s fist locked in his grip, finally let go and spun to face the growing crowd, exasperation plain on his face.

"Who are you calling a villain?" he snapped, gesturing at Scarlet. "She’s the one attacking an innocent civilian—"

His sentence cut off sharply.

Without so much as a glance behind him, his hand shot out and caught a leg mid-swing, inches from the side of his head. The crowd’s murmuring stuttered into stunned silence.

He held the leg there for a beat, then turned, slow and deliberate, to actually face her. "Why are you attacking me, young lady?"

Her only response was another kick, faster this time, aimed low.

He caught that one too — then, in the same motion, released both legs at once. Her balance broke instantly, both feet lifting clean off the ground, arms flailing for something to catch that wasn’t there.

Before gravity could finish the job, Rudra swept an arm beneath her, catching her in a clean bridal carry, right there in full view of the entire plaza.

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, dozens of eyes going wide at once.

Rudra, entirely unbothered by any of this, set her gently back on her feet. Then, with the same unhurried calm, he crouched down to retrieve a small hat that had tumbled loose during the scuffle, brushed the dust from its brim, and settled it neatly back atop her head — like a man tidying up after a minor inconvenience rather than someone who’d just been attacked twice in a public square.

Somewhere in the crowd, a young woman clasped her hands together and let out a shriek of pure delight. "Kyaaaa! This is so romantic!"

Nearby, a cluster of men scoffed in unison, arms crossing.

"Tch. Turns out it’s just a lovers’ quarrel," one of them muttered, already turning to leave.

"And here I thought we’d actually get to see some action," another added with a sigh.

The crowd began to disperse in earnest, murmured gossip and quiet laughter trailing behind them, the earlier talk of villains and justice already forgotten — replaced entirely by speculation about the strange couple at the center of the plaza.

Meanwhile, Leonardo, who had stood frozen throughout the entire spectacle, finally snapped back to his senses

"Scarlet!" His voice cracked through the dispersing crowd, sharp with disbelief. "Have you lost your mind? Why are you attacking Rudra?"

Scarlet composed herself, smoothing down the front of her dress, and turned to face her brother properly for the first time. Whatever fury had been directed at Rudra moments ago dissolved entirely, replaced by something rawer.

"You didn’t come home last night," she said, closing the distance between them and pulling him into a tight hug before he could react. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? I searched all morning."

She pulled back just enough to look him over — the torn coat, the dirt still ground into the fabric, the exhaustion clinging to his face — and her expression hardened again. "And then I find you like this. Looking like you’d been dragged through a forest and back. Being bullied by some stranger in the middle of the plaza."

Her eyes cut sideways toward Rudra, accusing.

Rudra raised an eyebrow, glancing at Leonardo. "Was I bullying you?"

Leonardo released his sister immediately, stepping back with the particular urgency of a man realizing he was standing at the center of a rapidly escalating misunderstanding.

"O-of course not, sir Rudra!" He turned quickly to Scarlet, hands raised. "Scarlet, sir Rudra saved my life last night. In the forest. I only helped him find his way out of it afterward, and treated him to a meal as thanks." He exhaled, some of the panic draining from his voice. "I was just nervous talking to him. That’s all it was, I promise."

Scarlet’s eyes moved between the two of them, lingering on her brother’s face, then on Rudra’s — waiting for a flinch, a tell, anything that didn’t match. She found none. Slowly, reluctantly, she nodded.

Leonardo turned back to Rudra and bowed his head. "I apologize again, sir Rudra. For my sister’s behavior."

Rudra waved a hand dismissively. "It’s fine. She was worried about you. Can’t really fault her for that."

Some of the tension left Leonardo’s shoulders.

"Anyway," Rudra continued, rolling his neck, "like I was saying before I got kicked twice — you didn’t just help me out of that forest. You fed me too." He gave a short nod. "That settles the debt. We’re even."

With that, he turned his gaze toward Scarlet, who was still watching him closely, her expression unreadable.

He held her stare for exactly one beat.

Then he turned, hands sliding back into his pockets, and walked off into the thinning crowd without another word.

As he walked, his mind drifted back to Scarlet’s face — the furious scowl that had, for a moment, looked almost familiar.

"Huh," he muttered. "Is it just me, or did that girl look familiar?"

"Do you want me to spoil you?" System asked.

Rudra shook his head. "Nah."

System didn’t push the matter further, letting the silence sit for a moment before pivoting to a more immediate concern.

"So. We’re out of the forest now. What’s the plan?"

"Simple," Rudra said, stretching his arms above his head as he strolled through the market street. "I’ll treat this place like a vacation. Relax, sightsee, wait until I get my powers back. Then we head home."

"And how, exactly, are you planning to fund this vacation, host?" A pause. "You’re broke."

Rudra stopped mid-step.

"...Damn." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Guess I am."

He waved a hand dismissively a second later, resuming his walk without any real change in pace. "Eh. I’m sure something’ll turn up."

True to his word, it didn’t take long.

A few streets later, muffled sounds drew his attention down a narrow alley — grunts, the dull thud of something being kicked, a voice pleading in a tone that had clearly given up expecting mercy.

Three men stood over a kid crumpled against the alley wall — black-haired, barely more than a teenager, arms wrapped protectively around his ribs. The men wore armor too polished, too expensive, for the kind of work being done in a back alley.

"Slum rat like you, hiring an A-Class Adventurer?" one of them sneered, crouching down to yank a small coin pouch from the boy’s jacket. He weighed it in his palm, unimpressed, then tossed it to one of his companions. "This is barely enough to buy us drinks."

He drove his boot into the boy’s ribs for emphasis. The kid curled tighter, biting down a sound.

"Man, this is fun," the second one said.

"I agree," a new voice cut in. "Bullying’s quite fun."

All three men turned toward the mouth of the alley, where Rudra stood, hands still in his pockets, expression unreadable.

"Who the fuck are you?" one of them barked.

Rudra didn’t answer that. Instead, he studied the three of them for a long moment. "I do like bullying people," he said conversationally. "Just not this kind."

His gaze swept over each of them in turn.

"I like bullying people who enjoy bullying others. Gives them a nice chance to understand exactly how fun it is from the other side."

The one who’d spoken first — the one still holding the coin pouch — didn’t appreciate the answer. "I asked you a question, fu—"

He never finished the word.

Rudra moved, and the man’s face met the cobblestones with enough force to send several teeth skittering across the ground. He went limp instantly.

Rudra turned to the remaining two, pointing down at the unconscious man.

"See that look on his face? Pure enjoyment." He crouched briefly, tapping one of the scattered teeth with a finger before straightening back up. "He liked it so much, his teeth decided to leave the party early."

He rolled his neck, joints popping.

"Let’s see how much you two enjoy it."

A few minutes later, all three men lay sprawled across the alley floor, unconscious, stripped down to nothing, their armor, weapons, and coin pouches stacked neatly beside Rudra.

The boy, still slumped against the wall, watched the entire exchange with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Rudra glanced over the haul, satisfied, then looked down at the kid.

Without a word, he tossed a heavy coin pouch onto the ground beside him — considerably fuller than the one that had just been stolen — and turned to leave the alley, whistling under his breath as he went.

He made his way toward the nearest tavern, secured himself a room for the night, and headed upstairs, ready to finally get some proper rest.

Just like that, a few days passed.

Rudra fell into an easy, unhurried rhythm. Wake up. Breakfast at whichever tavern smelled best that morning. Head out into the city in search of what he’d started calling "opportunities" — a term that, in practice, meant wandering until trouble found him, dealing with it in whatever manner seemed most entertaining at the time, and walking away considerably richer than he’d started. Then came food. Then alcohol. Then sleep. Then the whole cycle again the next morning.

It wasn’t a plan, exactly. But it worked, and Rudra had never been one to argue with something that worked.

Today, he sat on a wooden bench near the edge of a quiet plaza, head tilted back, eyes closed against the pale afternoon sun. The city noise had faded into a comfortable hum somewhere behind him — distant chatter, the occasional creak of a cart wheel, birds arguing over scraps near a bakery stall.

He exhaled slowly, sinking further into the bench.

"Um... sir?"

The voice was small. Hesitant.

Rudra cracked one eye open.

Standing in front of him was the same black-haired kid from the alley a few days prior, hands twisted together in front of him.

"Can you... help me?"

Rudra let out a long, put-upon sigh.