Hi there! This is just a little something I came up with, so I figured I'd share it with you so you can enjoy it. I've always wondered what Master Makarov does in his spare time...and thus, a story was borne. Don't ask me why I chose the number seven. I just thought it sounded good with the word "secrets". It doesn't have anything to do with the whole 777-dragon-disappearing-and-Lucy's-mom-dying thing. I just like the number seven.
**Ultimate Disclaimer of Doom: I don't own Fairy Tail. Mashima Hiro does.
SEVEN SECRETS: The Beginnings of Boredom
Makarov watched his beloved guild wrestle and rumble and be overall rambunctious. He did this every single day, except on the day when he was forced to go to those meetings, and he had to admit that things were starting to get a bit monotonous. It's not that Fairy Tail wasn't interesting - Fairy Tail is always interesting - it was just that Makarov felt the need to spice things up a bit.
The question was how.
Makarov chuckled when an idea formed in his head. It was sadistic and cruel, and his poor children would probably hate him for it, but it was so irresistibly entertaining that he couldn't help but afflict them with it. They wouldn't have to know it was simply for his amusement. As far as they were concerned, it was a legitimate order.
Arranging his face to look solemn and professional, he leapt onto the banister of the top floor and let his voice boom throughout the room like a speaker system.
Everyone stopped and looked up at him, inquisitive. He cleared his throat and began, trying to keep a straight face. "Due to top-secret security reasons concerning the new Council, Fairy Tail as been asked to fulfill a request in their favor. It will be a difficult request, and even potentially dangerous, but it needs to be done. Any one who objects will have to talk to me about it."
"WHAT IS IT, GRAMPS? I'M READY!" Natsu roared, flame coming from his mouth.
Makarov grinned and pulled a stack of notecards from his pocket. He threw them into the air and allowed them time to glide to the floor, letting everybody retrieve one before he continued. "For security reasons," he said again, "every single guild member is commanded to write down seven of their deepest, darkest secrets and turn the notecard into me."
The room lapsed into uneasy muttering, everyone flushing or blanching or in some cases even turning green. Makarov immediately sensed that he was going to get a good laugh out of this. Maintaining his official demeanor, he held up a hand. "I know, I know," he said, shaking his head. "It's an odd request. But it must be done, for security reasons. The fate of Fiore may rest on your shoulders. And don't be afraid to put anything on there, and don't censor anything, because none of your notecards are going to be released to the general public. No one but me is going to so much as glance at them. I need them turned in by this afternoon. That's all."
He jumped down from the banister as people separated into groups, fumbling for writing utensils and peaking over shoulders. Mirajane looked at her card nervously, fiddling with the edges. "When was this announced, Master?" she asked.
"Just a while ago."
"I've never heard of anything like it," Mira remarked, frowning at the card.
Makarov shrugged. "Me either. I suppose a new Council is a new Council."
He turned back to his guild, feeling the palpable waves of discomfort rippling in the air. Jet and Droy - and was that Gajeel? - hovered over Levy as she carefully wrote her secrets. Lucy battled Natsu, Gray, and Happy away from her, begging Erza for help. The Titania just stared at the paper with a ghost-pale face. Bisca and Alzack shyly glanced at each other, then back to their notecards. The Raijinshuu and the Take Over siblings avoided each other entirely while they filled their slots.
He nodded as Wendy promptly handed him her card, biting her lip and trying to conceal the vivid blush across her face - not that any of Wendy's secrets were going to be too terribly bad. Unless she was hiding something from Makarov, which was a very difficult thing to do.
He grinned down at the notecard, the name Wendy Marvell written across the front flap in big, careful letters.
This is going to be fun.