Katsuki's chin jutted out, his crimson eyes blazing with an intensity that seemed to suck the very air from around him. He met Makarov's shrewd gaze without a flicker of hesitation, the gazes of the surrounding guild members bouncing off him like irrelevant noise. His answer was blunt, stripped of any pretense or politeness, a raw declaration of his core desires.
"A job that lets me live," he stated, his voice a harsh rasp, each word hammered out with conviction. The implication was clear: he needed resources, sustenance, a way to survive in this unfamiliar world. Then, his voice gained an edge of fierce, unyielding ambition, the kind that had driven him relentlessly through the brutal curriculum of U.A. "And a job that makes me Number One." He didn't specify Number One what. Hero? Mage? Strongest? In his mind, they were all facets of the same ultimate goal: absolute, undeniable supremacy. He wouldn't settle for anything less. It was the bedrock of his existence.
He then gestured sharply with one hand, palm open, not quite aimed at anything but radiating a latent threat. A tiny, almost invisible wisp of smoke curled from his fingertips, a subtle hint of the power he wielded. "And I can explode things," he added, his lips pulling back in a feral grin that was more snarl than smile. "You hear me, old man? Anything. Anyone. If it needs blowing up, I'm your guy." The statement was both a boast and a promise, a straightforward summary of his primary, most devastating skill. There was no finesse in the declaration, only the brutal truth of his destructive capability.
The guild hall, already quiet, seemed to fall into an even deeper hush. The audacity of his demands, coupled with the casual, almost gleeful admission of his explosive tendencies, hung heavy in the air. Some of the Fairy Tail mages exchanged uneasy glances. Others, the more battle-hardened or simply reckless ones, had a glint of excitement in their eyes. This newcomer was arrogant, incredibly so, but there was a raw, undeniable power thrumming beneath the surface of his abrasive words.
Makarov Dreyar stroked his white mustache thoughtfully, his gaze never leaving Katsuki. The old Master's eyes, which had seen generations of mages pass through Fairy Tail's doors, held a complex mixture of amusement, calculation, and something akin to recognition. He'd dealt with difficult, headstrong individuals before – Fairy Tail was practically a magnet for them – but this one… this one was a different breed of intensity.
"Number One, eh?" Makarov mused, his voice still carrying that surprising resonance. "A lofty goal. Fairy Tail has its share of powerful mages, young man. Competition is… fierce." He let that sink in for a moment, then a broad smile stretched his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "But I like it! That fire in your belly, that refusal to aim low! That's the spirit of Fairy Tail!"
He took a step closer, seemingly unfazed by Katsuki's aggressive posture or the lingering scent of burnt wood and ozone. "Explosions, you say? A useful talent, if… a bit messy." He gestured around the hall with a sweep of his hand, encompassing the mismatched furniture, the patched walls, the general air of controlled chaos. "As you can see, we're not overly concerned with pristine conditions around here. A little property damage is practically a daily occurrence."
Several guild members chuckled nervously at that, a few even nodding in rueful agreement. Mirajane, still behind the bar, watched the exchange with a serene, knowing smile, her earlier surprise completely gone, replaced by an intrigued attentiveness.
"As for a job that lets you live," Makarov continued, his tone becoming a shade more serious, though the twinkle in his eye remained. "Fairy Tail takes care of its own. We are a family, albeit a loud, dysfunctional, and often destructive one." He paused, then his smile widened again. "And we always have need for those who aren't afraid to get their hands dirty, or, in your case, make things go 'boom'."
He looked Katsuki up and down once more, a final, appraising glance. "Alright, son. You want a job? You want a chance to prove you're Number One material? You want to… explode things for a living?" He spread his arms wide, a gesture of welcoming, or perhaps of bracing for impact. "Then consider yourself provisionally accepted into Fairy Tail. We'll find you work that suits your… particular set of skills."
Makarov then turned slightly, addressing the guild at large, his voice booming once more. "Everyone! It seems we have a new brother joining our ranks! Let's give a warm, Fairy Tail welcome to… uh…" He trailed off, realizing he hadn't actually asked for the newcomer's name. He turned back to Katsuki, an expectant look on his face.
Katsuki's eyes narrowed. 'Provisionally accepted.' 'Brother.' He wasn't here for their damn family. He was here for results. But it was a start. A way in. A platform. He wouldn't be 'joining' anything in the sentimental sense they seemed to imply. He was Katsuki Bakugo, and he stood alone, at the top.
But they needed his name. He gave it to them, short, sharp, and devoid of any warmth, a name he fully intended to make them fear, or at least, respect through sheer, undeniable power.
"Bakugo. Katsuki Bakugo."
The name echoed briefly in the suddenly attentive hall. Makarov beamed. "Katsuki Bakugo, then! Welcome to Fairy Tail, lad! Try not to blow up the entire guild hall on your first day! Or at least, warn us first!"
A ragged cheer went up from some sections of the guild, mixed with laughter and a few speculative murmurs. The tension that had gripped the hall moments before began to dissipate, replaced by the familiar, boisterous energy of Fairy Tail. They were used to oddballs, to powerful and unpredictable personalities. Katsuki, for all his explosive fury, was just the newest, loudest addition to their chaotic family.
He just scowled, already regretting the cheerfulness. He wasn't here to be welcomed. He was here to conquer.