▶┆Chapter eighty-seven 
❝You were everything I ever wanted―and more than I could ever need.❞
HAVE YOU EVER wondered about death? Thought about how inevitable it is―how people walk across a thinly drawn line, day by day. Isn't it crazy to imagine the fact that time is directly correlated to each person―one person may have tomorrow. This person could have hundreds, even a million tomorrows. Plenty of time to bask in; to live a complete and wholesome life. But what if you're the person who only has today? There is no tomorrow for you―all you're left with is today.
That's the bitter truth; some of us only have today. Some people have so little time it slips past them like raindrops cascading to the ground. And some people have so much time they have the privilege of allowing it to glide between their pudgy fingertips like spare change.
Laxus wasn't dead; his body still moved, and his heart still hammered in his chest. Yet, he felt as if so much time had eroded away. The loss was weighing on his mind; weighing on his shoulders like an anvil. It pressed on him, reminding him of what he had failed to do―of what had exactly slipped through his fingers.
That was the thing. Laxus wasn't deceased. He hadn't lost everything yet, but it still felt as if he had.
The blonde's fingers dug into his palms, marring the flesh that lied there. It was all he could do to prevent himself from bawling―or straight up vomiting.
"She's..." Sting's eyes watered briefly, his blue orbs raw. "She's gone..."
The silence stretched across the bleak afternoon, blanketing the world like a sheet of snow. No one spoke; what was there to say? Their fatigued bodies stood there, feet sinking in the newly made mud with a sense of hopeless abandonment. Laxus could hear the harsh breaths of his companions, and could only presume everything they had done was in vain.
"No..." Natsu's shrill voice spoke, his lips quivering. "We couldn't have lost the trail...we were so close!" He cried, fruitlessly surveying the area again. Laxus couldn't bear to watch.
Even with dragon slayer senses, the trail had gone cold. Faded away, just like she had. Every last reminiscent of her had withered away, like footprints in the rain―and he couldn't bear it.
As the seconds ticked by, he solemnly watched as Sting, Natsu, and Happy desperately combed the stretch of land again. Her scent faded here; it just stopped. She had vanished―and what was worse was being aware of her intentions. Being aware of what she intended to do...of just how far they had pushed her. Of how far Lila and Kaden had driven her.
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