He can't think right now.

All he wants is to get out of the rain and hide.

The lights inside the arena are bright, the brick walls are a muted gray. But there's colour-- a stark shade of blue and green and red, festival shades lining up with the tournament taking place.

(Ah, right.)

He's in a tournament right now.

"Eir!"

-

Jura found him first. The participant stand was not far from the waiting rooms, so he caught Eir two doors before he'd made it

"Eir," he took him by the shoulders, and tried not to flinch when the teen glanced over.

Eir's eyes were wide but empty, his face pale even against his drenched bangs. He'd frozen at the touch, his eyes clouded over with a sense of disarray Jura had never seen in him before. Not angry, not irritated, not even tired-- they were fearful.

"...Eir?"

Jura had called out experimentally, and that seemed to work. Eir blinked slowly-- and finally-- finally his head lifted, and his eyes turned from the ground to meet Jura's.

"Oh," he whispered, his voice shaky, a little hoarse. He had screamed too, after all-- the pain was still in his veins, barely recovered. "Jura."

(Who else could it have been?)

"Yeah," Jura muttered, hesitant. "Are you okay?"

Eir's hand reached over to his side, settling a hand on the hilt of his katana.

"Ah, yes," he said.

Rather than a response, it sounded like something a person would say on instinct toward that question. Jura could tell that there was no emotion or honesty in the words-- and that unsettled him deeply.

Eir was the epitome of blunt honesty when it came to himself. Even when he was admitting his own weaknesses, he did so with irritation or fierce denial.

Now he was speaking, and his answers were empty.

Jura set a hand on Eir's forehead, disappointed to learn that he wasn't running a fever. Eir's eyes narrowed at his action, which was a relief.

"What?" Eir said snappily, stepping back and batting the hand away gently.

Jura tucked his hand back into his sleeves.

"What did you do back there?" he asked, not bothering to spin around the topic. "That wasn't your usual Wind Magic, was it?"

Eir looked up, as if in surprise-- then looked away.

"Yeah..." his left hand came up to his right elbow, and he shuffled his feet uncomfortably. 

His face was slowly growing a little blue, like one would at the crest of catching a cold. His eyes darted about haphazardly, like it couldn't decide where it wanted to land.

Jura's gaze narrowed. "And what was it?"

(Whatever it was, it looked cruel. Something that can cause invisible pain directly to another individual-- it's not illegal, but it certainly is frowned upon.)

"Ah," Eir said, swallowing his words. "Well..." he looked in every direction, nervously flickering his gaze-- and Jura had never seen him so distressed before. "...well, but Aria's magic was Drain magic."

(He'd changed the subject.)

"He probably took too much of my magic and got a bit of Magic Overload," he said, sounding smoother in his words now.

Suspiciously so-- as if he'd just concocted the story and was now simply laying out the format. His words grew more confident as he went on, further proving that theory.

And most unsettling of all-- Eir was never so easy to read. He would never fluctuate his tone like this-- Eir wasn't one for acting, and he knew it, so he never tried. Yet here he was-- faking it all out as if it weren't the most transparent thing in the universe.

"He'll be okay. Any unused magic will dissolve into magic particles and return to the air after a while," Eir said.

Then, as if he was done saying a piece, he stepped forward with the clear intention of walking toward the waiting room.

But Jura interrupted sharply.

"That's not what I asked."

Eir paused for a moment. There was no way he didn't know he was caught there, without a way to comfortably excuse himself as an escape.

Yet, all he said was a final, defeated, "yeah," with his gaze cast toward the ceiling.

Then a promise: "I'm not using it ever again."

Jura turned around, but didn't know the words to stop the boy from walking away.

-

The guild finally finds Eir in the infirmary.

"Your magic flow's a wreck," the nurse said, her hands on his. She frowned, releasing his hand to take a drag of her pipe. "Choice is yours, but you're better off not participating in any more battles today."

They walk in, hearing the tail end of the diagnosis.

Eir's eyes lifted from the nurse, and he turned to the crowd that began to form around the doorway.

"What's everyone doing here?" he asked.

(He looked as if he genuinely didn't know why.)

Gray is absolutely flabbergasted. Cana's jaw dropped, and-- and Levy wailed. "Eir!" she charged into him, hugging him by the stomach and sobbing loudly into his stomach.

"What's wrong, Levy?"

"What do you mean, what's wrong!" Gray snapped at him, "what the-- how the-- why--" he made a frustrated noise. He struggled for a full minute before throwing his hands into the air, declaring that the problem was ultimately, "everything!"

"He's right, Eir," Macao stepped forward, "what was up with that? Are you alright?"

Is he alright? Eir stood up, nodding in thanks to the nurse as she excused herself. He put a hand on Levy's head as she sniffled.

"Well, my Magic Overload is acting up again, but that's nothing new," he said dismissively, "the next rounds for me aren't until the day after anyways, so it's fine."

"That is not! The! PROBLEM!" Macao marched in, an angry step punctuating his words before his hands slammed down on the boy's shoulders. "Were you possessed? Did the scary blindfold guy do something to you?!"

"That's right!" Gray snapped, "you were so still! I mean, it's not like you move all that much usually anyways but..."

"Your magic went all weird and you used that weird magic circle again!" Levy wailed.

"I saw your eyes! You were scary!"

"Yeah! Like that time we accidentally turned on the oven when Dart was still inside..."

"Wait, you guys did what?!"

"That was three years ago! And he's fine. He didn't stay in there for more than a second."

Eir could only blink in confusion as the rest of the guild filed in, each giving similar words of trying-to-make-sure he's still him. Which was totally uncalled for, but alright.

He found himself laughing when they began debating if exorcism was necessary.

Gray sputtered at something, embarrassed, and Cana began lecturing him tearfully about worrying and worsening his condition-- but Eir simply patted them on the head, crouched down, and took them in his arms.

"I'm okay," he told them, holding them closer than he'd ever done before. His breath came out just a little shakier than necessary, and he hoped no one heard it.

He's okay. He'll be fine.

"I just need a nap, that's all. I'm tired today."

He doesn't notice when the adults breathe out, almost in relief.

He doesn't notice the way Laxus and Bickslow stay outside, watching warily, the former grasping a strangely tight grip against the blade on his hip. When he began walking away with a dark look on his face, only Bickslow silently followed.

(Eir's hands were just so slightly trembling against Levy's back.)

(And that doesn't go unnoticed by anyone.)

-

The matches for today ended there.

The next day would be a rest day for the four finalists to recuperate from their wounds. The semifinals and finals would happen the day after that.

"So it'll be Sol of the Land versus Rock-Iron Jura," Wakaba noted on the tournament chart, "and then it's Eir versus... Bacchus?"

"Between Sol and Jura, two earth mages-- I think it's clear Jura will win there," Macao hummed. "The question is Eir versus Bacchus."

"Yeah..." Wakaba frowned with concern. "Eir's known for his elegant style, but Bacchus is known for his unpredictability. They're opposite ends of a whole spectrum."

Macao sighed. "That's talking if Eir will wake up before his match."

Wakaba sputtered. "He's still sleeping?!"

-

Eir spent the next day sleeping.

For twenty-nine straight hours, he did not wake up. It was an abnormal amount of time for him-- and they knew this because of the many times they've snuck into his bed.

Eir never slept for more than two hours consecutively. He always went back to sleep simply to while away time, but he would wake up frequently in between.

He simply loved to sleep-- he did not need to function with much.

But this time, he slept like he really needed the rest to recover-- and no one could sit still from the worry. The kids stayed beside him the whole time-- thought Laxus and Bickslow were nowhere to be seen.

(Laxus and Bickslow would return the next day early in the morning, covered in wounds and mud and new scars, including a nasty bruise on their sides-- well, let's just say everyone wrapped their wounds and didn't ask.)

(The Phantom-Fairy tension only got worse from then on, but no one quite cared.)

"His magic flow is strange," Levy said, taking his hand while the teen slept. "I've never known the difference, but I learned some of this in school."

She put it to her head, and for a moment, she just focused.

"Usually, magic flows beside the bloodstream, like an extra vein," she told anyone that would listen, "but for Eir, his magic and his blood seems to flow together."

Gray listened, reaching for a hand to see if he could try and sense it too. Emphatic magic like this was never his strong suit, but as a caster type, he could try.

"They're not at the same speed or direction-- it runs wild, which gives him all these complicated symptoms," Levy diagnosed. "But this isn't normal. It's like a deformity-- a hereditary one. And I think Magic Overload was just a side effect of it."

It was something none of them have ever thought fully about.

What exactly was Eir-- his disease, his history, his everything? It wasn't something the members of Fairy Tail usually did-- one thing they unspokenly refused to do was pry into anyone's business, ever. Eir was no exception.

But now it was biting them in the back and Eir was going to suffer without anyone knowing because he was such a stubborn fool.

It just didn't sit right with any of them.

"It's fine, Levy," Cana interrupted her, sitting down on the bed. "Eir doesn't want us to interfere in his business."

Despite everything in their core that told them they had to address this, they shouldn't shove it into the corner and ignore it-- she knew this was the best for him. Eir's done the same for her so many years ago, who would she be if she didn't return the favour?

The past should be overcome with their own strength, not anyone else's.

"He just wants us to be by his side when he wakes up. You know him," she inched closer.

That's all Eir needs for now.