The Accidental Savior

The day started like any other for Nick Romero: with failure. His new guitar lay beside him, strings slightly out of tune, as he practiced basic melodies that barely passed for music magic. A hastily constructed barrier shimmered faintly in front of him before flickering out.

"Great," Nick muttered, dropping his hands. "If a stiff breeze shows up, I'm done for."

The Wives System chimed in beside him. "Barrier integrity: 54%. Recommendation: improve chord transitions to stabilize magic flow."

"Yeah, thanks for the hot tip," Nick said, glaring at the glowing screen. "Remind me why I thought guitar would be cooler than a flute?"

"To appeal to your allies and enhance morale," the AI replied. "Guitars hold a cultural association with leadership and heroism."

Nick groaned. "Right. I'll inspire everyone—right up until they see me tripping over my own feet."

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was falling behind. Cana had been improving steadily, and Nick's own progress felt... slow. He tightened his grip on the guitar. "One more try," he muttered.

That afternoon, Nick's unproductive routine was interrupted when the guild hall doors swung open to reveal Fairy Tail's newest recruit.

A black-haired boy with sharp eyes and a confident stride walked in, already shrugging off his jacket.

"I'm Gray Fullbuster," he announced, tossing the jacket onto a chair like it offended him.

Nick, sitting at the bar with Cana, froze mid-sip of his juice. "Well, there he is," he muttered. "The guy who hates shirts almost as much as he hates demons."

Cana blinked. "What?"

Nick leaned closer. "Trust me. That kid's going to lose more clothes in a week than the guild loses furniture in a year."

Before Cana could reply, Gray glanced down at his bare chest, his brow furrowing. "Huh. Guess I forgot my shirt again."

Cana burst out laughing. "Are you serious?"

Nick nodded solemnly. "This, my friend, is Gray Fullbuster. Ice magic prodigy. Shirt repellent. And in about ten years, professional drama magnet."

As Gray walked further into the hall, Nick couldn't help but reflect on everything he knew about the boy from the anime.

"Let's see," he thought, watching Gray greet Master Makarov. "Future brooding rival to Natsu? Check. Impressive ice magic? Check. Habit of stripping for no reason? Oh yeah, big check. And then there's Juvia..."

Nick smirked at the thought. "Man, he has no idea what he's in for. That water mage is going to fall so hard for him, she'll practically flood Magnolia. Poor guy's going to spend half his life dodging love confessions."

The Wives System chimed in, interrupting his thoughts. "Observation: Gray Fullbuster exhibits strong potential as an ally. Collaboration could enhance mission success rates."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Nick muttered under his breath. "Gray's a great teammate, as long as you don't mind him stripping every five minutes."

"Gray's tendency to lose clothing is likely tied to his training," the AI added helpfully.

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Thanks, Sherlock. You want to explain Juvia's love-struck monologues while you're at it?"

Despite his teasing, Nick couldn't deny that Gray was talented. He watched from a safe distance as the boy sparred with one of the older guild members, creating sharp, glimmering constructs of ice with almost no effort.

"Okay, that's impressive," Nick admitted to Cana, who was munching on a snack beside him.

"Way more useful than sparkly barriers," Cana quipped, smirking at him.

"Gee, thanks," Nick replied, strumming a halfhearted chord on his guitar. "I'm doing my best, okay?"

"You know," Cana said, tilting her head, "you could probably learn a thing or two from him."

Nick snorted. "What, like how to forget my shirt every time I sneeze? No thanks."

Gray's skill became even more apparent when Master Makarov suggested a sparring session. "It'll be good for you, Nick," he said, patting the boy on the shoulder.

Nick groaned. "Yeah, because getting pummeled is my favorite hobby."

The spar began in the guild's training yard, and it didn't take long for Gray to dominate the fight. His ice magic was quick, precise, and relentless, forcing Nick to play an endless game of defense.

Nick played an upbeat tune on his guitar, creating a shimmering barrier just in time to block an incoming ice spike.

"Not bad," Gray admitted, skating around the shield.

"Thanks," Nick replied, panting. "But could you maybe slow down? Some of us are new to this whole 'not dying' thing."

Gray smirked. "Better keep up, then."

The spar ended with Nick flat on his back, staring up at the sky as Gray stood over him, smirking.

"Better luck next time," Gray said, offering a hand.

Nick groaned, accepting the help. "Next time, I'm bringing a flamethrower."

Despite the humbling spar, Nick couldn't help but feel impressed by Gray's talent. The boy quickly settled into the guild's chaotic rhythm, earning respect for his skill and confidence.

Watching Gray practice his ice magic one afternoon, Nick leaned over to Cana. "He's going to be one of the best, no doubt about it."

Cana nodded. "Yeah, but he's kind of... intense."

"Just wait," Nick said, smirking. "Give him a few years, and he'll be the unofficial guild therapist. I mean, he's got the brooding look down already."

Cana raised an eyebrow. "You're weird, you know that?"

Nick grinned, strumming a soft chord on his guitar. "Yeah, but at least I'm not the one freezing my clothes off."

That evening, as the guild quieted down and Nick sat alone by the fire, he found his thoughts drifting to the future.

"Gray, Erza, Natsu... they're all going to be legends someday," he murmured, strumming a soft tune on his guitar. "And here I am, struggling to keep up."

The Wives System chimed. "Support roles are foundational to team success. Your journey is far from over, Nick."

He chuckled softly. "Yeah, I know. I just hope I can keep up with them when the real chaos starts."

As the flames crackled and the stars twinkled outside, Nick tightened his grip on the guitar. Tomorrow was another day to train, to improve, and to carve out his place in the guild—one awkward step at a time.