demon thirst. @minerva-sama - Tumblr Blog

not so model students

After one too many fights at school, Erza and Mirajane end up stuck in detention together for a week and have to deal with their vice-principal's weird ideas of punishments. Bonding isn't really part of their plans, but things rarely go according to plans for the two of them, especially when they are together.

high school au.

ship: erza x mirajane rating: general-ish/teen & up cw: threats of violence, slight violence, bunch of swearing, implied abuse word count: 7,9k

“Say it again, Strauss. Say it again, I fucking dare you.”

The words are snarled between gritted teeth as Erza tightens her grip on the collar of Mirajane’s uniform shirt. She knows that her threatening tone would be enough to scare any student, to have them shaking in fear and begging for forgiveness, but not Mirajane. Not Mirajane fucking Strauss. Even with her back pressed to a locker, forced on her tiptoes by Erza’s height advantage, Mirajane is smiling – there’s so much pride and contempt, it’s unnerving.

Erza shoves forward, pushing Mirajane back harder, and the loud clanking noise and slight wince it earns is enough indication that the back of her head hit the locker behind her pretty harshly. But still, Mirajane’s smile turns into a lopsided smirk, full of the arrogance that has been driving Erza crazy all these years. And even if Mirajane is the one stuck between her body and the lockers, Erza is the one who feels trapped and powerless.

“You’re a little bitch. Watcha gonna do about it? Run to mommy?” Mirajane’s shit-eating smirk broadens. “But maybe you’d have better luck with daddy, uh?”

“Mirajane!”

The voice undoubtedly belongs to Lisanna, Mirajane’s precious little sister. If they weren’t so close, Erza would have missed the shame that flashed in Mirajane’s eyes for a second. Erza wants to raise a fist, to hit the other girl square in the jaw and erase that obnoxious smirk off her lips for good. They’ve fought many times before, and even though Mirajane is strong and fast, her reflexes aren’t as good as Erza’s. It would be easy to land a punch.

“Belserion! Strauss!”

The loud voice that booms throughout the corridor makes the two of them jump, and Erza knows that the crowd that has been gathering around them is thinning out to avoid being caught in whatever mess is about to unfold.

Before Erza can even fully register Vice-Principal Clive’s presence or loosen her grip on Mirajane’s collar, he has a hand on her arm and is practically ripping her off Mirajane’s body. Before either of the girls can say anything, or take a breath, the man is dragging them away from the remaining of the crowd, which has fallen entirely silent in his mere presence.

“I’m tired of you two,” he says, not bothering to look at either of them, or to acknowledge that his painfully strong grip on their arms makes it complicated for them to follow him and keep up with his pace. “You were both supposed to be model students, and look at you, fighting for the third time this month alone. For no reason. ‘Getting on my nerves.”

“No reason?” Mirajane repeats, scoffing.

“Strauss keeps—”

The vice-principal gives Erza’s arm a squeeze; a silent warning to keep quiet because his patience for them is clearly running out and seems to have been for a while. So, Erza, who unlike Mirajane can get a hint and listen when she needs to, keeps her mouth shut.

He guides them to his office in complete silence, save for Mirajane mumbling under her breath, words that aren’t worth being repeated or even acknowledged. Erza is surprised that the vice-principal doesn’t comment on it or shuts her up – but by now he probably knows that trying to make Mirajane Strauss be quiet only makes her even more annoying and obnoxious than usual. Stupid delinquent who can’t ever get a hint.

Vice-Principal Clive only looks at the two of them when his office door is closed, and they are sitting down (if Mirajane sprawled over a chair can count as sitting).

“Are you girls planning on getting your act together before graduation? Or do you want to get expelled before getting a diploma?”

“I don’t give a shit.”

Erza watches as Clive raises an eyebrow at Mirajane’s answer. He doesn’t seem all that taken aback by her words though. It’s news to nobody in Magnolia High that Mirajane Strauss doesn’t ‘give a shit’ about anything that doesn’t directly concerns either of her siblings.

“You don’t ‘give a shit’ if you can’t get a proper job to pay for Elfman and Lisanna’s wellbeing?”

Mirajane tsks at the question and turns her face away from him. Probably realizing that he won’t get anything else from her, he turns his attention to Erza.

“What about you, Erza? Any smartass remark to make?”

Smartass. He probably is the only staff members, aside from Mr. Mine and Mr. Conbolt, who would use such language so freely around students, but it is one of the reasons why he is so popular and appreciated by everyone in school.

Erza shakes her head and hears Mirajane let out a bark of laughter.

“Mirajane,” the vice-principal warns, “please abstain from provoking your comrade.”

“She isn’t my comrade.”

The vice-principal clasps his hands together loudly, startling both girls, but he still looks as calm and unaffected as usual as he intertwines his fingers.

“We’ve all been too indulgent with the both of you,” he starts to explain, sounding very much done with the situation. “Me in particular. I was hoping you’d get a grip but it’s only getting worse. So, I’ve been thinking of appropriate sanctions for you two.”

Erza only nods. From the corner of her eyes, she can see Mirajane crossing her arms and sliding further down into her chair.

“No club activities for a month.”

Erza gasps, glancing between Vice-Principal Clive and a smirking Mirajane – she has never joined a club, so it doesn’t affect her the slightest bit, Erza, on the other hand, is captain of the kendo team of the school.

“And a week of detention. Three bonus hours on Saturday for you, Mirajane.” He is smiling like he isn’t about to ruin their social lives.

“Why only me on Saturday?!”

“Dress code,” he answers simply, and, before Mirajane can voice her outrage, he pulls out a piece of paper from the inner pocket of his jacket. “Rolled up skirt. Shirt not buttoned properly. Multiple ear piercings. Leather collar. Skull rings. Demonic-looking bracelet. Poorly concealed nose ring. This is a list given to me by a friend of yours from the disciplinary committee. And it’s just the past week.”

“Fucking Jenny,” Mirajane mutters under her breath, but Erza still hears it.

The vice-principal fixes Mirajane with a look that clearly indicates that he heard exactly what she said, but he apparently prefers not to point it out aloud, maybe because Mirajane’s case is already bad enough as it is.

“Starting Monday, you’ll be staying at school two hours after classes. If things go well and you can cooperate, it will only last a week. If not, you’ll get a second week. If there’s still problems by then, I’ll be sending you to Principal Makarov.”

When Erza looks at Mirajane, she is glaring a hole into Vice-Principal Clive’s skull, but the man doesn’t bother acknowledging the harsh stare sent his way.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my daughter because she’s apparently giving Mirajane and Gray a run for the title of most inappropriate uniform of the year. So, you’re dismissed. Get out of my sight, stubborn delinquents.”

__

First day of detention and Mirajane already wants to strangle Erza. Or at least kick her chair so she’ll fall and land on her stupid ass. There are a lot of things in life that she hates, but among all those things, Erza just takes the crown and the fucking cake.

Tik. Tik. Tik.

Erza is clicking her pen in the most obnoxious of manners, and even from the other side of the room, it’s driving Mirajane crazy to hear the sound over and over again. It’s loud and it doesn’t stop, and it’s been going on for seven minutes now – yes, Mirajane is counting, and it’s been seven minutes since Clive stepped out of the room after having handed them some crappy sheet of paper that looks like a form (Mirajane hasn’t bothered to read it because she can’t bring herself to care).

Tik. Tik. Tik.

“Belserion. If you don’t stop that fucking noise right now, I’m going to shove that pen up your ass. Or down your throat. You pick your poison.”

Tik.

Mirajane’s breath hitches and her nostrils flare as she desperately tries to keep her cool and not just flip the desk in front of her. She knows that she can’t get pissed off. Clive is in the room next to them and will hear anything that is said even just a bit too loud. It’s annoying to know that he’s spying on them and expecting them to get along. They’ve known each other since middle school and never managed to get along, it isn’t about to start now.

She’s stopped making efforts even for Elfman and Lisanna’s sake.

“Are you planning on doing the work?” Erza asks, turning in her seat to look at Mirajane. “Clive said it’s the only way for us to reduce the amount of detention we got.”

“Shut up,” Mirajane mutters, rolling her eyes.

She waits for Erza to look back to the front of the room to finally look down at the paper sheet. 1) Why did you get detention? 2) How could you have avoided detention? 3) What are you learning from your time in detention? What the actual fuck? And the list of shitty questions goes on. Of course, Clive would pull off something like that just to annoy them. Mirajane has been in detention plenty of times before but she’s never had to fill in anything like that.

“You’re not going to do it, are you?” Erza asks, not bothering to turn around this time.

Mirajane scoffs, grabs the stupid form, balls it up and throws it at the back of Erza’s head – it’s so stupidly big that it’s impossible to miss. But the only response she gets is a groan. Erza doesn’t acknowledge her, doesn’t insult her, she simply picks up the paper and gets up to throw it in the trash can. How boring.

How is Mirajane supposed to survive detention with Erza if she can’t even get a reaction from her? She’ll probably die of boredom before even the end of the first hour. With a frustrated groan, Mirajane drops her head on her desk, forehead hitting it just a bit too hard not to be painful, but she refuses to acknowledge the pain when stupid Erza Belserion is right there. So, motivated to do nothing for the rest of detention, she hides her face in her arms and closes her eyes.

__

Third day of detention.

Erza sighs as she opens the door of her mother’s car. She has no desire to take one step into school today, exhausted in advance by Mirajane’s ridiculous attitude. She’ll have to spend, yet again, two hours stuck in the same room as her and her gigantic ego.

“I’m picking you up after work, but I have a meeting so I might be a little late.”

Erza nods. Knowing her mother, a ‘little late’ will likely mean at least a whole hour. She’s used to it though. She doesn’t quite mind anymore, but it’s still disheartening to know that her own mother can’t find time to prioritize her over work.

“I’ll see you later, mom.”

“Erza?”

With a foot outside of the car already, Erza stops and looks back at her mother – she isn’t looking at her though, eyes fixed straight ahead.

“Stop getting detention over that girl.” Her voice is calm, but Erza knows that her mother is anything but calm. “You know how your father will get if he hears about it.”

Erza tightens her grip on the door handle, knuckles turning white. Mentioning her father is something that neither of them enjoys, something that they rarely do.

“You used to want to get along with that girl, didn’t you?”

Her jaw tenses. All she can do to stop herself from scoffing at her mother’s words is bite her lip. Maybe she used to. Maybe she wanted to make friends with Mirajane when they met in middle school. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Any hopes they once had to get along are long gone and forgotten; they can barely look at each other without wanting to jump at each other’s throat.

When did things get like that? Why did things get like that?

“I should go, or I’ll be late. See you later, mom.”

“Don’t become like him, Erza.”

Instead of acknowledging that last sentence and whatever it implied, Erza slams the door shut behind her and makes her way to the front gate of the school.

Since when does her mother mention her father twice in the same conversation?

She kicks a pebble and watches as it bounces on the ground. The day is barely starting, and she’s already pissed off – and not even because of Mirajane. Erza can only hope that she won’t run into that bitch or else she’ll definitely land herself in more troubles.

“C’m’on, Jenny! Don’t be such a stuck-up bitch!”

Erza freezes by the gates at the sound of the voice. Looking around, she finds Mirajane arguing with Jenny Realight, a few steps away from the morning crowd.

“Just take off the dog collar, you dumb bitch.”

Erza’s eyes widen. Did she really just hear a member of the disciplinary committee call Mirajane a dumb bitch without even sounding scared for their life? And Mirajane isn’t trying to punch her? Erza knows that most people at Magnolia High like Realight’s eccentric personality and admire her beauty, but for Mirajane not to try to punch a hole through her skull? That’s just insane.

“I won’t write it down,” Jenny assures, “so give me the collar, I’ll give it back to you after classes if you bring me my favorites tomorrow.”

Deciding that it isn’t a conversation that she should be hearing, Erza steps away, forcing her thoughts away from whatever Jenny could be referring to. She has to trust that a member of the disciplinary committee isn’t doing any sort of illegal business – even if Mirajane is involved. Then again, Mirajane has only ever been known for her provocative personality, not for doing (or selling) drugs.

Erza shakes her head and makes her way to the main building. She can’t just stand there in the middle of the way or she’ll end up being late to class, getting too distracted by thoughts of Mirajane involved in stupider things than fighting fellow students.

“Since when is Erza Belserion not at least ten minutes early?”

Evergreen’s annoying tone of superiority greets her as soon as she steps into the classroom, and for a moment, Erza wonders whether Evergreen pisses her off more than Mirajane does. She doesn’t let the thought bother her long though; they’re both too annoying and bitchy and that’s all Erza needs to know.

“Did you start another fight with your little friend?” Evergreen asks, and even if her hand covers her mouth, Erza knows that she’s smirking.

“Want me to tell her about you dating her brother behind her back, Ever?”

Erza’s retort is enough to shut Evergreen up. Erza has thrown around that kind of threats plenty of times before, but Evergreen usually whines about how she isn’t dating some ‘stupid second year too big to fit through a door’ – her own words. It seems that she’s finally accepting her relationship with the boy, or maybe man, since he’s so stubborn about all things manly.

As the day goes by and Erza’s struggle to focus grows, she realizes that not being stuck in the same class as Mirajane, for the very first time since they met, really is a blessing. But even without her direct presence, Erza can’t stop thinking about her and her obnoxious personality. What will detention be like today? If the vice-principal gives them the same form as the two previous days, will Mirajane ball it up again to throw it at the back of her head and proceed to nap for two hours instead of taking anything seriously?

Mirajane fucking Strauss really is driving her completely insane.

Before she can process her day and classes, it’s time to head to detention. Erza hates it. She has to watch her friends from the kendo team head for activities that she can’t join. It’s torture.

On her way, she runs into Freed, who offers her a soft smile the moment he spots her in the corridor.

“Hello, Captain,” he greets her with a polite bow of his head – always overly polite.

“Hello, Vice-Captain.” Out of habit, she returns his little bow. “I hope everyone is treating you well while I’m not around.”

He nods in a manner that can only be described as Freed-like.

“They’re behaving the best they can in the circumstances.”

The answer is a bit non-committal, but Erza understands exactly what he means. Natsu and Gray are dedicated, but messy and unable to follow rules when facing each other, Lucy always ends up stuck in the middle, and then there’s Gajeel, who didn’t have a choice in joining. The other members, at least, have the decency to somewhat behave themselves most of the time (bless Kagura and Freed’s existence, really).

“I should let you go, or you’ll be late,” Freed excuses himself with another short bow. “See you in practice next week, Captain!”

“See you, Vice-Captain!”

“Well, ain’t that sweet? Captain and vice-captain of the kendo club being all cute together.”

The teasing tone sends a shiver down Erza’s spine as she turns around to find Mirajane leaning a shoulder against the door of the room in which they’ll be locked up for the next two hours. So nonchalant and arrogant and obnoxious.

“You been dating long?” Mirajane asks, that smirk of hers stretching her lips. “Laxus knows you’re ogling his boy like that?”

“Don’t start, Strauss,” Erza says, pushing past Mirajane to open the door and take a seat in the front row. “I don’t want to fight again.”

Vice-Principal Clive arrives soon after, all bright smile and loud laughter. At least someone in this room is enjoying their time. He doesn’t hand them a dumb form this time, though, as he grabs chalk and faces the blackboard.

APOLOGIES & FORGIVENESS

The words are written in big letters. Impossible to ignore.

“Mirajane, come sit at the desk next to Erza.”

Before either of them can protest, the vice-principal raises a hand.

“This,” he gestures towards the blackboard, “is what you will be discussing. I want a written report when I come back in two hours.” He looks at Mirajane, who is dragging her feet. “And don’t think I won’t know if you don’t participate and let Erza do all the work.”

And with that, he leaves the classroom. The silence that settles in his absence is heavy, almost unbearable, but Erza can’t quite bring herself to start a conversation with Mirajane, even if she knows that they’re supposed to cooperate today.

Fuck. How are they supposed to work together on Clive’s assignment when they can’t have a single conversation that doesn’t end with a raised fist? That man either wants them dead or expelled from Magnolia High, there’s no other reason why he would force them to work together.

“This is bullshit.”

Mirajane’s voice nearly makes Erza jump in her seat.

“We still need to do what he wants.”

“So what? We’re supposed to write an essay on apologies?”

Erza shrugs. It’s not like the vice-principal’s instructions were clear.

“Maybe he wants us to prove that we can apologize and forgive.”

“Each other?”

Mirajane snorts and pushes back her chair so she has enough room to rest her feet on the desk – Erza wants to point out that it’s disrespectful and that she shouldn’t do that, but she knows that it’d only lead them to yet another argument. In this position, Mirajane’s skirt rides up and shows an amount of her thighs that is impossibly close to being indecent. Not that Erza notices, or cares, for that kind of things. It’s just that she can’t not see it when it’s right under her nose. She is definitely not staring at Mirajane’s stupid legs.

“Do you ever want to apologize to people you hurt?” Erza hears herself asking.

To her surprise, Mirajane doesn’t kick her desk. She doesn’t even budge. She seems to be genuinely thinking, to consider giving her an answer.

“Only when it’s Lisanna and Elfman, I guess.” Mirajane shrugs. “You think anyone wants to apologize for insulting me behind my back all the time? Or like, for telling my siblings that I’m a terrible person?”

Oh.

“I guess not,” Erza mumbles, a weird sensation settling down in her stomach. Is it guilt? She isn’t one of those people who insult Mirajane behind her back though. And she’s never thought that she’s a terrible person – just that she’s a bitch.

There’s silence again. It’s weird and uncomfortable, especially now that they’ve managed to exchange words that aren’t insults.

“I kinda want to apologize for the way I slammed you into the lockers,” she admits, staring down at the notebook she pulled out of her back earlier. She doesn’t have the courage to look at Mirajane as she speaks.

“Nah, that was fun.”

Erza glances at Mirajane, who is balancing her chair a bit too dangerously.

“But next time you want to push me around and make out with me, try to remember to actually make out with me.”

The smirk on Mirajane’s lips makes Erza choke on her saliva, and all she can do is cough and lean forward to try to hide her blushing cheeks. What the hell is wrong with that girl? She can’t seriously be spewing that kind of things like it’s not affecting her, can she?

Mirajane laughs at her pitiful state, but it doesn’t sound as mean as usual.

What is even happening here?

“Fuck!” Mirajane exclaims, visibly struggling to catch her breath as she keeps laughing. “I didn’t think you’d be that easy to fluster!”

Has Mirajane always been that pretty when laughing? Maybe it’s just something that Erza never got to see because the two of them are always fighting over the pettiest of reasons.

“Say, Belserion.”

“Mhm?”

“I kinda want to apologize for bringing your parents into our stupid fights.”

“Say, Strauss?”

“Hm?”

“Why do we even fight all the time?”

There’s no answer this time. Mirajane remains silent, and Erza isn’t sure she wants to probe. If Mirajane asked her the exact same question, Erza is certain that she wouldn’t be able to form a sentence. As far as Erza can remember, things have always been like that between them; it got worse with the years though, going from throwing insults carelessly to throwing kicks and punches.

The silence is stubborn, and neither of them seems to want to even dare glance at the other. As if it meant admitting defeat.

Erza sighs and locks her eyes on the blackboard in front of her. Apologies. Forgiveness. They’ve managed to talk about apologies (though neither of them actually apologized), so she has no doubt they can come up with something to write down for the vice-principal’s stupid report, but forgiveness? If they can’t even apologize for real, how are they to forgive each other? Are they even meant to forgive each other? Is that the goal of the exercise? Erza lets out another sigh.

“Gimme a pen and some paper,” Mirajane demands, shaking Erza out of her thoughts.

“What for?” Erza asks, even if she’s already digging into her backpack for paper.

“Gotta bullshit that report for Clive, no?” Mirajane shrugs, “And your handwriting is trash, so it’s better if I do it.”

Erza wants to be offended, but Mirajane isn’t exactly wrong about her handwriting. It used to be something that Mirajane used a lot to make fun of her when they were kids. It’s almost amusing that she remembers such a useless detail.

As Mirajane scribbles, Erza observes. The silence, barely interrupted by the pen gliding over paper, offers a most peaceful moment. Erza can’t remember ever seeing Mirajane look so calm or focused, and Erza decides that if she can’t look away, it’s because the sight is unusual, not because she notices how cute the other girl looks with a slight frown scrunching up her features and the most discreet of pouts on her lips.

They spend the remaining of their detention in a similar fashion, Erza just staring at Mirajane while she writes, the two of them only talking when Mirajane looks up to ask about certain phrasings and words. Erza catches herself gaping at Mirajane’s unexpected way with words and how good she is at “bullshitting the report”, as she calls it.

When Vice-Principal Clive slides the door open, Mirajane shoves the report in his hands and practically leaps out of the classroom, ignoring the fact that she isn’t allowed to run in the corridors and definitely shouldn’t be doing it in front of staff members.

“You worked on that together?” he asks, glancing down at the report.

“I guess, yeah.”

“It wasn’t that hard to listen to each other and not throw a punch, was it?”

Erza shrugs. She wants to say that it actually was, but she can’t. She has spent the past years loathing Mirajane’s very existence and now it feels like it’s been all for nothing because the girl isn’t even half that bad. It’s stupid, it makes her feel stupid. Erza isn’t sure they could ever get along, or become friends, but she knows that they never needed to fight. It pisses her off.

“It’s nice to see Mirajane actually taking something somewhat seriously for once,” Clive comments as he scans the report quickly. “Well, I’ll tell you what I think of this tomorrow, but right now I need to go find my daughter.”

Slowly, Erza makes her way to the front gates, knowing all too well that her mother won’t be here to pick her up. It’s just how it’s always been. Erza is used to taxi rides to get home – it’s still nice that her mother tries to make efforts from time to time.

__

“I gotta talk with Realight, I’ll see you two later,” Mirajane says, giving Lisanna’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Her siblings are used to it by now, and they’ve stopped teasing her about her unexpected (and just plain weird) friendship with Jenny Realight, extravagant member of the disciplinary committee and popularity queen of the school.

“See you at lunch!”

Mirajane dodges her sister’s attempt to kiss her cheek and punches Elfman’s arm when he tries to trail behind, likely to keep an eye on her and make sure that she doesn’t start yet another fight when they’ve barely stepped into school. Both Elfman and Lisanna have been a lot more worried than they need to be since she got herself a whole week of detention. Well, maybe they’ve got reason to worry, but Mirajane can’t just go around telling them that.

And it doesn’t matter anyway. Tomorrow should be her last day of detention with Belserion. They haven’t murdered each other. Everything is fine.

(Except for the fact she can’t stop thinking about how cute Belserion is when she blushes.)

“If it isn’t my favorite goth girlfriend material senior!”

Jenny’s exclamation has Mirajane rolling her eyes. It isn’t the first time Jenny comes up with some bullshit like that, and she knows it won’t be the last, so she doesn’t even bother saying anything about it – no need to bring attention to it, it’ll only motivate Jenny to be more annoying.

“Wait wait wait! You’re not giving me anything to work on here?” Jenny whines loudly as she looks her up and down. “Not even a little bracelet?”

Mirajane shrugs.

“Shut up, Realight,” Mirajane says, though her voice lacks any sort of edge. She drops her bag on the ground and squats so that she can grab what she wants. She gets back up and extends a small box to the blonde. “Your order. With a bonus ‘cause I’m generous like that.”

“More like because I dropped the septum issue,” Jenny scoffs.

Mirajane could make her way to class, but she doesn’t budge, preferring to watch as Jenny opens the box to check on its content, counting the cookies and brownies (white chocolate, all of them, because Jenny has disgustingly sweet tastes when it comes to baked goods) that Mirajane wasted way too much effort into baking the previous night.

“To your liking?”

Jenny hums. “How’re things with you and Erza?”

“What’d’ya mean?”

“Nothing!” Jenny offers her the brightest, fakest smile possible. “Gotta get back to work! See you later, my favorite punk senior!”

“Wasn’t I your goth girlfriend material senior two minutes ago?”

“Still a punk.”

Obnoxious brat.

The day drags itself too slowly. It feels like every class lasts forever. Forever filled with thoughts of ‘How’re things with you and Erza?’. What the hell did Jenny mean by that? She can’t possibly be expecting to them become friends, especially through goddamn detention.

When Mirajane drags herself to detention after classes, Erza’s stupid face makes her want to kick something (she doesn’t though, surprisingly). Stupid pretty face. Looking more friendly than she should when they (supposedly) hate each other. Clive’s obnoxious assignment doesn’t help Mirajane’s mood in the slightest. It’s the same bullshit as yesterday. But their sole theme this time is ‘friendship’.

“Like we could ever be friends,” Mirajane mumbles.

“We managed to figure out what to write about apologies, I’m sure we can… bullshit… this too.”

And they do bullshit it, with a surprising amount of ease. And a surprising amount of talking. It’s easy to tease, to make fun of how weird their friends are, how weird the concept of friendship is. Because how the fuck do you just see someone and decide ‘Yeah, that dickhead’s gonna be by my side for a long time from now on’?

“Look at us being friends,” Mirajane teases, grimacing at the words playfully. “And I don’t even want to kick your ass, can you imagine?”

“And I don’t want to strangle you.”

Mirajane makes the mistake of glancing at Erza’s face – there’s a small smile on her lips, one she’s never seen before, or at least not one that’s ever been directed at her. She wants to ignore the beat that her heart skips, or maybe she wants to kick Erza’s ass now, for making her feel that way, but there’s nothing she can do. She is powerless right now.

“Hello again, girls!”

Clive slams the door open, startling both girls out of their minds.

“Fuck! Can’t you open doors like a normal person?”

“Language, Mirajane,” the vice-principal says as he steps inside the room. “Did you get anything done today?”

Rather than answer, Mirajane hands him their stupid bullshitted report.

“I hope you did at least as well as yesterday. You surprised me. Both of you.”

Mirajane can’t handle looking at the man as he praises their work. She’s used to other students insulting her, teacher scolding her for her attitude; this is nothing she’s equipped to deal with.

“I could take half an hour to talk about what you did.” Mirajane’s eyes go as wide as saucers at his words, but he grins and opens his mouth again. “But I’m feeling generous, so I’ll set free you for today. Go home, girls. I’m proud of you both.”

Head tilted down, Mirajane throws her pen in her back and exits the classroom without saying goodbye. She needs to get away from this whole thing. She can hear Erza bidding Clive goodbye and catching up with her, though she stays a couple steps behind her rather than walk by her side.

She should be running to try and catch a bus, but she’s tried the three previous days and never made it in time, so she doesn’t bother. And maybe – maybe deep down – she hopes that Erza and she can strike some sort of conversation. What the fuck is wrong with her? She should want to punch her square in the face, not to chit-chat with her! (She’s never really wanted to punch her, though, it’s always just happened.)

Her frustration with herself is threatening to boil and spill over when she steps outside of the main building. The cool breeze hits her skin and immediately soothes her.

Approaching the gates, she squints. There’s a luxurious-looking car parked right outside, and the man standing there doesn’t look like he belongs anywhere near a school. He’s all apathetic eyes and expensive suit – the kind of dickhead who has a watch that costs more than a year of rent, Mirajane can’t help but think.

Behind her, she hears Erza swearing under her breath, and when she glances over her shoulder, all she sees is her scarlet hair as she makes a bee line for the trees by the entrance. Mirajane looks back at the man, seemingly too focused on his phone to have noticed either of them. Mirajane knows this isn’t any of her business and that it’d be so much easier for her to ignore this whole weird situation, but instead of simply heading home, she follows after Erza.

“S’that your old man?” Mirajane asks, leaning against a tree, staring straight at Erza.

The girl only nods, her phone clutched in her hands.

“He shouldn’t be here,” she whispers weakly. There’s none of her usual confidence in her voice and Mirajane has the sudden urge to punch something, anything, or many just that man’s guts would do.

“Follow me.”

“Uh?”

Mirajane rolls her eyes and rather than explain, she grabs Erza’s wrist and drags her away from the front gate. She shouldn’t care, should just be going home and leave Erza to deal with her own shit, but she can’t. Not when Erza fucking Belserion’s hands are trembling from only seeing some dickhead.

“Are we going to the pool? I don’t exactly fancy a swim right now, Strauss.”

“Just shut up, Belserion. Trust the delinquent who knows how to get out of school without needing to go through the front gates, okay?”

It seems to be enough to make Erza shut up as they make their way to the school’s pool. They technically aren’t allowed there since they aren’t part of the swim team, but it’s not like Mirajane has ever cared about rules.

“Lockser!” Mirajane exclaims when she spots long blue hair by the pool.

The girl jumps at the sound of her name being called out, and Mirajane smirks, satisfied with the effect her voice has on people, even the ones who know that she won’t do anything. Juvia is a decent girl, a friend of Gajeel and Laxus, and of hers, by association. They never call each other friend though, and Juvia is still scared of Mirajane – and Mirajane knows exactly why.

“Gimme the key.”

“I can’t,” Juvia says as she reaches for a towel.

She looks at Mirajane, her eyes dropping to her hand, still tightly wrapped around Erza’s wrist, and they both pull away at the same time, cheeks flushed at the realization that they’ve been touching all along. Mirajane is grateful that Juvia doesn’t seem to want to point it out, or even the fact that Mirajane is hanging out with Erza.

“Gimme the key or I stop pretending I don’t know you’re dating my sister.”

Juvia’s eyes widen, and Mirajane hears Erza let out a little gasp.

“The swim team isn’t allowed to have the key anymore because we kept giving it to Gajeel,” Juvia says, barely able to hold eye contact. “You knew? About Lisanna and Juvia?”

“Of course. You suck at hiding it. But at least you’re still better than Elf and Evergreen.”

“You know about them too?!” Erza exclaims.

Mirajane gives a small shrug. She’s known for a while, but she likes to pretend that she has no clue; it’s fun to see people get squirmy and watch them struggle to come up with good excuses, and both her siblings are absolutely adorable when they do.

She sighs deeply, “Guess we’ll have to make a jump for it.”

“Jump for what?”

Mirajane doesn’t answer and starts walking away from the pool, this time making the conscious effort not to grab Erza. They follow the tall wall that surrounds the school grounds for a few minutes, until they reach the perfect spot. Here, the wall is frayed, and several bricks have been pulled out. The so-called delinquents of the school know that this is where to go if you want to climb over the wall with ease.

Mirajane carelessly throws her bag over the wall. She places her foot in one of the holes left by a broken brick and pushes herself up with ease, settling on top of the wall, a leg on either side of it as she stares down at Erza, who is looking at her with eyes full of surprise.

“You coming?”

“I’m not throwing my bag over that wall,” Erza protests, fists resting on her hips.

“Then give it to me.”

To her surprise, Erza doesn’t try to find an excuse and just hands her bag over. Mirajane leans down as far as she can without risking falling before dropping Erza’s bag, quickly looking back at the girl to extend a hand to her. She half expects Erza to slap her hand away, but she grabs it and hoists herself up on the wall, mirroring Mirajane’s straddling position. They stare at each other for a moment, perched atop the school wall.

Erza is the first one to dare break the silence.

“I thought you were just an asshole, but you really aren’t all that bad,” she admits, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Why are you helping me though?”

“’Cause you looked scared.”

Erza tilts her head down, chin meeting her collarbone.

“You don’t have to tell me about the asshole,” Mirajane says, trying to sound as calm and reassuring as she can, “but if you ever need to avoid him, just ask. I won’t ask questions, I’ll just help.”

Erza nods.

It’s so fucking awkward. Erza still isn’t looking up. And straddling the wall is starting to make her ass numb. So, Mirajane decides to do what she does best. She leans closer to Erza, invading her personal space in the most obnoxious of manners.

“I know how you feel about pushing me against walls and making out with me, but how about a kiss when sitting on a wall, uh?” she taunts, smirking the second she sees Erza stiffen and straighten her back. Her whole face is turning bright red – she really is adorable when she’s flustered.

“Why are you so obsessed with kissing me all of a sudden?” Erza stutters her way through the sentence and Mirajane just has to laugh at the question.

“Well, you know what they say about rivals and sexual tension!”

“I don’t! You’re just a perv!”

“Watch your tongue, Belserion, I’ll push you.”

Before Mirajane can do, or say, anything else, Erza jumps off the wall and grabs her bag.

“See you in detention tomorrow, Strauss!”

“What about my kiss?”

“You can choke!”

__

Erza is almost buzzing with excitement. Yesterday has been a mess of an emotional rollercoaster; she is still confused about what happened with Mirajane, uncertain how to feel about seeing her father again and having to bring him up during dinner with her mother. Giddiness and guilt sure make for a very unsettling combination and Erza still can’t make sense of it. But it isn’t what matters right now.

She takes a deep breath and slides open the classroom door. For the last time this week, she will be spending two hours in detention with Mirajane – she isn’t here yet, but that much isn’t surprising. Erza can’t quite expect the local delinquent to be early for detention. Interestingly enough, it’s starting to become harder to see Mirajane as just a delinquent, even after climbing a wall with her to get out of school. To avoid her father. Mirajane helped her.

Mirajane Strauss helped her, Erza Belserion.

Her heart is beating just a bit too fast, too painfully, at the thought.

‘Cause you looked scared.

Erza doesn’t like thinking that it’s so obvious that Mirajane could figure it out. But maybe Mirajane is a lot more observant than she had given her credit for (only confirmed by the fact that she knows exactly who her siblings are dating).

“Yo, loser!”

“Strauss.”

She didn’t even hear the door open, and her heart is beating like crazy from the shock, but Erza is pretty sure that she manages to hide just how startled she got. Her heart has no chance to calm down, as Mirajane takes a seat at the desk next to her, just like during the previous detention.

“If it isn’t my favorite duo!” Vice-Principal Clive singsongs as he steps into the room. “Welcome to today’s detention!”

He sounds way too excited about this. Erza exchanges a look with Mirajane, and it’s obvious that she’s just as worried as her because of it.

“Your last subject – that is if you do just as well as with the other reports – is,” he drums his fingers against Mirajane’s desk, most likely to annoy her, “forgiving each other and figuring out what you can do to be better starting today!”

Erza blinks. What the hell?

“You’ll give me separate reports this time. See you girls in two hours!”

And just like that, he is gone.

“You ever think the staff members drink and smoke everything they confiscate?” Mirajane wonders out loud.

Erza chuckles, “they probably do, yeah.”

Detention is quiet for the most part, and Erza is almost too focused on writing to realize that Mirajane put her pen back in her bag after writing only a couple of sentences. Almost. She wants to ask her why, but she doesn’t want to risk annoying her when they are only starting to find some sort of balance.

On several occasions, she catches Mirajane peering over at what she’s writing, and her frown doesn’t go unnoticed. Erza knows that her handwriting is terrible and that teachers hate to have to look at whatever she hands in.

“You haven’t written much, Mirajane. Detention is almost over. You sure you want to risk it?” Erza asks, pen pressed to her lips as she struggles to find the right words to write down.

“Yup,” she simply answers. “I like what I wrote.”

Erza isn’t exactly finished with her report when the vice-principal comes back, still in the same weirdly good mood as before.

His face betrays no emotion as he quickly skims through the content of Erza’s report, but the second he looks at Mirajane’s, his eyes widen. It’s obvious that he is taking the time to read the whole thing.

“You know I could give you more detention for that, right?” he inquires.

“Yup.” Mirajane smirks. “But you won’t because I did what you asked.”

Vice-Principal Clive rolls his eyes at her confidence, but he makes no further comment. Mirajane has just won an argument with the vice-principal.

“You two go. And I don’t want to have to see you in detention ever again, understood? This is your last year, so don’t waste it.”

They fall into step with each other as they make their way outside the main building, and the silence that settles between them, while awkward, isn’t heavy or particularly uncomfortable. Erza isn’t sure what to say, and Mirajane doesn’t seem to know any better.

“The dickhead isn’t here today,” Mirajane announces as they approach the front gates. “Guess I’m not getting a kiss on the wall today either.”

“Seriously, why are you so obsessed with kissing me all of a sudden?”

“You get all blushy and stutter-y, it’s fucking cute!” Mirajane’s tone is teasing, but not mean, and she laughs, the sound almost sweet to Erza’s ears. “You should see your face, seriously!”

Erza groans and whines when she notices Mirajane taking out her phone, she doesn’t have time to react properly and hide her face before Mirajane is proudly announcing that she snapped a picture of her blushing face.

“Say, Strauss?”

“Hm?”

Erza breathes in.

“What did you write for Clive to react like that?”

“Gimme a kiss and I’ll tell you.”

Erza glares, but Mirajane stares back and has the audacity to smile. And no matter how hard she tries to ignore the way it makes her feel, her face is burning.

“Tell me and I might give you a kiss,” she hears herself say. She has no clue what is going on through her own head right now; she definitely shouldn’t be indulging Mirajane’s weird new obsession with kissing her, but she can’t help it.

“I wrote that I want to kick the dickhead in the balls,” Mirajane starts, her eyes unblinking. “Because even if I want to punch you sometimes, I don’t actually want to hurt you.”

Erza can’t find any word to express how she feels right now under Mirajane’s intense stare. Have her eyes always been so light and pretty? Most likely. She opens her mouth, but before any sound comes out, Mirajane is talking again.

“Also wrote that I wanna make things better by making out with you against the lockers.”

“Strauss!” Erza yells, annoyed.

Mirajane sticks out her tongue at her.

“How ‘bout that kiss then?”

Erza looks down at her feet, unable to maintain eye contact with Mirajane when she is acting like that – so annoyingly confident and gorgeous. Stupid pretty eyes. Stupid pretty face.

“Let me kiss you, Erza. Please.”

Please?

Erza looks up. There’s a soft expression on Mirajane’s features that she’s never seen before. She is so taken aback that she nods before she can realize what she is doing.

Mirajane takes the two steps that separate them and places a hand on the back on her neck to pull her closer. When their lips touch, Erza’s breath itches in her throat at how gentle Mirajane is. It’s so innocent, and she can feel Mirajane’s long manicured nails against her skin. Just as she pulls away, Mirajane’s tongue teases her lower lip, and Erza shoves at her shoulders, sending the girl in a fit of laughter.

“You’re gross!”

“I couldn’t help myself, sorry!” Mirajane is still laughing. “Seriously, you’re really fucking cute when you blush like that.”

“I’m never kissing you again.”

“I don’t believe that.”

Maybe Mirajane is right not to believe her. Erza does wonder what it’d be like to kiss her again – potentially after having pushed her against the lockers. But she can’t say that; it’d feed Mirajane’s ego way too much, and it would also be too embarrassing.

“Wanna kiss again?”

Erza is ready to protest, mouth opening.

“God no! Please don’t! I’ve seen too much already!”

They both turn at the same time to see Jenny Realight standing a few feet away from them, a look of faux disgust on her face.

“You just had to ruin the moment, uh?” Mirajane asks, eyebrow raised. “If I catch you, you’re dead.”

“If you catch me, you’ll end up in detention again.”

“It’ll be worth it!”

Before Erza has any idea what’s going on, Mirajane is running after Jenny, their kiss apparently long forgotten.

“Mirajane! If you get in more detention, I won’t let you kiss me again!”

“Fuck me!”

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