The first rays of dawn were painting the sky in hues of violet and rose as Katsuki, covered in grime, smelling of smoke, stagnant water, and something vaguely metallic, made his way back towards Magnolia. His 'Explode: Frictionless' Quirk-powered flight was swift, though a deep weariness was beginning to settle into his bones. The adrenaline from the annihilation of the Iron Vulture syndicate was fading, leaving behind the familiar ache of exertion and the mental toll of sustained, high-intensity combat.
He landed on the outskirts of town, not bothering with a dramatic entrance this time, and trudged through the awakening streets towards the Fairy Tail guild hall. A few early risers gave him wide berths, their expressions a mixture of awe and trepidation at the sight of the battle-worn, heavily armed (with his own explosive potential, at least) young man.
The guild hall was quiet, only a few of the earliest risers present – Makarov nursing a cup of tea, Mirajane already behind the bar, calmly polishing glasses, her smile as serene as the morning itself.
Katsuki stalked directly to the bar, too tired for his usual aggressive pronouncements. He simply slapped the dark guild subjugation request, now stained and crumpled, onto the polished wood. "Eldoria. Done. Iron Vultures… ain't vultures anymore."
Mirajane looked up, her eyes taking in his weary, disheveled state, the faint traces of blood and marsh mud on his clothes and skin. She didn't need to ask for details; the grim finality in his voice and the sheer exhaustion radiating from him told their own story. She nodded, her expression calm and professional, though a flicker of something – respect? concern? – passed through her gaze.
"Understood, Bakugo-san. I'll process the reward immediately." She consulted the request slip, then a ledger. "The bounty for the complete annihilation of the Iron Vulture syndicate is… quite substantial." She began to count out a large sum of Jewel notes, adding them to the already impressive pile she was holding for him.
As she counted, Katsuki's mind, despite its fatigue, was doing its own calculations. He remembered the astronomical figure the head tailor at Heart Kreuz had quoted for his new, ultra-durable, volcanic-core-resistant attire. Five million Jewel. It had sounded like an impossible sum then, and it still felt like a mountain to climb.
He watched Mirajane finish counting. "How much… is that now?" he asked, his voice rough with tiredness, gesturing towards the combined earnings.
Mirajane smiled. "With this latest reward, Bakugo-san, the total I am holding for you is… one million, two hundred thousand Jewel."
Katsuki stared at the figure she mentally projected. One point two million. It was a huge amount of money, more than he'd ever handled personally in his old world. But against the five-million-Jewel target for his new gear, it felt… frustratingly small. He'd undertaken a series of incredibly dangerous, high-stakes missions, pushed his powers to new limits, annihilated countless monsters and an entire dark guild, and he was still less than a quarter of the way there.
A wave of profound weariness, both physical and mental, washed over him. The prospect of the sheer amount of work still ahead, the endless cycle of violence and destruction required to earn that colossal sum, suddenly felt overwhelming. He'd been running on pure adrenaline and rage for days, fueled by the novelty of his new powers and the desperate need to assert himself in this alien world. Now, the bill was coming due.
"Damn it," he muttered, rubbing his temples. The numbers swam before his eyes. He was too tired to even contemplate another job right now, too exhausted to even feel properly angry about the shortfall. He just wanted… to stop. At least for a little while.
He pushed himself away from the bar, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Forget it. I'll just… sleep it off." The thought of his small, quiet apartment by the river, the simple bed, suddenly seemed like the most appealing thing in the entire world. He didn't even have the energy to argue with Mirajane about her holding the money or to think about his next move. He just needed oblivion.
Without another word, he turned and trudged out of the guild hall, leaving a surprised Mirajane and a thoughtful Makarov watching his retreating, weary form. He didn't fly. He walked, each step heavy, his usual explosive energy completely depleted. He headed straight for his apartment, the promise of uninterrupted, deep sleep his only goal. The five-million-Jewel armor, the dark guilds, the mysteries of this world – they could all wait. For now, Katsuki Bakugo, the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, just needed to crash.
---
The walk back to his apartment was a blur of exhaustion. Each step felt heavier than the last, the adrenaline that had sustained him through the night's carnage having completely drained away, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness. All Katsuki craved was the silence and solitude of his small room, the oblivion of sleep.
He fumbled with the key, his movements clumsy with fatigue, and finally pushed open the door to his apartment. He was met not with blessed quiet, but with an immediate, overwhelming wave of… noise.
"—and then I punched it right in the snout, and it went FLYING! Igneel would've been so proud!" Natsu's booming voice was unmistakable, punctuated by enthusiastic hand gestures that threatened to knock over the small lamp on Katsuki's table.
"Natsu, you're going to break something! And you're exaggerating again, it barely went five feet!" Lucy's exasperated reply was equally audible.
"Hah! As if your little celestial spirits could hit that hard, Luce!" Gray's taunting voice chimed in, followed by the distinct sound of something – probably an ice projectile – thudding against a wall.
"Gray-sama is so strong and cool!" Juvia's dreamy, slightly too-loud sigh was unmistakable. Happy was probably adding his "Aye, Sir!" to the cacophony somewhere.
Katsuki froze in the doorway, his already frayed nerves screaming in protest. His sanctuary, his one quiet place in this goddamn chaotic world, had been invaded. Team Natsu – Natsu, Lucy, Gray, and Happy – plus his overly enthusiastic water-mage neighbor, Juvia, were all crammed into his tiny apartment. They were loud. Obnoxiously, unbearably loud. And they were clearly making themselves at home, judging by the displaced furniture and the general air of boisterous energy that filled the small space.
A vein throbbed in Katsuki's temple. The exhaustion he'd felt moments before was instantly vaporized, replaced by a surge of pure, unadulterated fury.
"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!" he roared, his voice, though hoarse with fatigue, cutting through their chatter like a whip crack. "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY APARTMENT, YOU DAMN MORONS!"
The members of Team Natsu (and Juvia) jumped, startled by his sudden, enraged appearance. Natsu, who had been mid-boast, nearly swallowed his tongue. Lucy shrieked softly. Gray instinctively tensed, ready for a fight. Juvia looked flustered and slightly guilty. Happy, who had been attempting to steal a piece of dried fish from Natsu's pocket, yelped and zipped behind Lucy's head.
"B-Bakugo!" Natsu stammered, a wide, slightly nervous grin spreading across his face. "Hey! You're back! We were just… uh… waiting for you! Yeah! To see if you wanted to… uh… celebrate your latest… whatever it was you blew up!"
"Celebrate?!" Katsuki advanced into the room, his crimson eyes blazing, his hands already beginning to spark despite his exhaustion. "I come back here half-dead from annihilating a whole damn city full of scumbags, looking for some goddamn peace and quiet, and I find YOU IDIOTS having a fucking party in MY ROOM?!"
"It's not a party, Bakugo-san!" Lucy tried to explain, holding up her hands placatingly. "We were just… worried! Master Makarov said you might be… well, after your last few jobs… we just wanted to make sure you were okay when you got back! Juvia let us in, she said she heard you leave really early…"
Juvia nodded eagerly from beside Gray. "Juvia was concerned for her neighbor! And for Gray-sama's new… rival-friend!"
Katsuki's eye twitched. "Rival-friend?! I am NOT your damn rival-friend, Ice Prick! And I don't NEED you idiots worrying about me! I need you OUT!" He gestured emphatically towards the door, small explosions already popping in his palms, making the air crackle. "This place is too small for your combined stupidity! You're too damn LOUD! I came here to SLEEP, not to listen to your goddamn shouting match!"
The sheer, unadulterated rage emanating from him, even in his weary state, was palpable. Team Natsu, for all their usual boisterousness and love of a good brawl, seemed to recognize that they had genuinely pushed him too far this time. They had invaded his personal space, his refuge, after a night of intense violence and with the clear intent of getting some rest.
Erza wasn't with them, which was probably the only reason the apartment hadn't already been reduced to splinters from a combined Bakugo-Natsu-Gray explosion of mutual irritation. But even without their S-Class enforcer, the message was clear. Katsuki Bakugo had reached his limit. And his limit looked dangerously explosive.
---
Katsuki's furious tirade, fueled by the last dregs of his adrenaline and a monumental wave of indignation, reached a crescendo. His hands were sparking violently, his voice was a raw bellow, and the very air in the tiny apartment seemed to vibrate with his rage. He took another step forward, ready to physically eject the unwelcome intruders from his sanctuary, explosions already primed to launch them through the nearest wall if necessary.
And then, just as suddenly as his fury had erupted, it vanished.
The world tilted. The angry red haze that had clouded his vision dissolved into a dizzying swirl of black spots. The strength that had momentarily surged through him, a final defiant burst of energy, evaporated as if it had never been. The monumental exhaustion he had been holding at bay, the cumulative toll of days of relentless combat, near-death experiences, and emotional turmoil, finally, catastrophically, caught up to him.
His legs, which had been braced for a renewed assault, simply gave out. The sparks in his palms died with a pathetic fizzle. His eyes, which had been blazing with fury, rolled back in his head. His roar choked off into a strangled gasp.
With a groan that was more a sigh of utter systemic shutdown than a sound of pain, Katsuki Bakugo pitched forward, completely limp, and collapsed face-first onto the floor of his apartment, out like a light. The Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, defeater of monsters, annihilator of dark guilds, wielder of cataclysmic power, had finally been taken down by the one opponent he couldn't blast into oblivion: sheer, unadulterated exhaustion.
He was asleep before he even hit the ground.
A stunned, horrified silence descended upon the cramped apartment, broken only by Katsuki's soft, rhythmic, and surprisingly peaceful snores as he lay sprawled inelegantly amongst their feet.
Team Natsu and Juvia stared down at his unconscious form, their earlier boisterousness completely extinguished, replaced by a mixture of shock, guilt, and profound disbelief.
"Uh…" Natsu was the first to break the silence, his voice a bewildered whisper. "Did… did he just… faint?"
Lucy rushed forward, kneeling beside Katsuki, gently trying to turn him over from his face-plant position. "Oh my gosh, he's completely out! Natsu, you idiots, we really pushed him too far! He said he was tired!"
Gray ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely chagrined. "Damn. I didn't think he actually could get tired. He's always so… explosive."
Juvia wrung her hands, her eyes wide with concern. "Juvia feels terrible! We were just trying to be friendly… to check on him… Juvia didn't mean to make Bakugo-san pass out from… loudness!"
Happy, who had cautiously peeked out from behind Lucy, floated down and poked Katsuki's cheek with a curious paw. "He's really asleep. He's even drooling a little."
Lucy gently maneuvered Katsuki onto his side, then carefully onto his back, wincing at the various new scrapes and bruises visible on his exposed skin, remnants of his fight with the Iron Vultures. His face, in sleep, looked surprisingly young, stripped of its usual fierce scowl, though a faint frown line remained etched between his brows even in unconsciousness.
"He must have been running on fumes," Lucy murmured, brushing a stray strand of ash-blond hair from his forehead. "After everything he's been through… that Oppenheimer Smash, then going right back out on more jobs… it's a miracle he lasted this long."
Natsu looked down at Katsuki, a strange expression on his face – a mixture of his usual desire to fight mixed with a new, grudging respect and a surprising flicker of something akin to… concern. "He's… really something else, isn't he?" he said softly, a rare moment of quiet contemplation for the fire dragon slayer. "Fighting all those bad guys, then just… thump."
They stood there for a moment, a chaotic, well-meaning, and now deeply guilty group of Fairy Tail mages, looking down at the unconscious form of their newest, most volatile, and currently most exhausted guildmate. They had meant well, in their own typically loud and intrusive Fairy Tail way. But they had clearly misjudged just how close to his absolute limit Katsuki Bakugo had been.
Now, the pressing question was: what were they supposed to do with a sleeping, unconscious Dynamight who had just threatened to annihilate them for disturbing his peace? And, more importantly, what would he do when he finally woke up?
---
The sight of Katsuki Bakugo, the self-proclaimed Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, lying unconscious and snoring softly on his own apartment floor, presented Team Natsu and Juvia with a unique and somewhat terrifying dilemma. Their initial shock and guilt quickly gave way to a pressing, practical question: what now? Leaving him sprawled there seemed wrong, but waking him, given his earlier fury, seemed like an invitation to an immediate, close-quarters explosion.
It was Lucy, surprisingly, who came up with a plan, her practical mind working quickly amidst the chaos. "Okay, guys," she whispered, her voice urgent. "We can't just leave him here like this. And we definitely can't risk him waking up and finding us still in his apartment. He'll literally murder us."
Natsu perked up. "So we fight him when he wakes up?"
"NO, Natsu!" Lucy hissed, swatting his arm. "The goal is to avoid further ire! We need to get him somewhere safe and comfortable where he can actually rest without… us." She glanced around Katsuki's spartan apartment. "And we are not touching his bed. Or his blankets. He'd probably incinerate them, and us with them, if he knew."
An idea sparked in her eyes. "I have some spare blankets at my place! Thick ones. We can… uh… wrap him up."
Gray raised an eyebrow. "Wrap him up? Like a present? For who, Satan?"
"No, like a… like a burrito!" Lucy exclaimed, a touch of desperate inspiration in her voice. "To keep him warm, and to make him easier to carry! Then we take him back to the guild infirmary. Mirajane-san can look after him. He seems to listen to her… sometimes. A little."
Juvia clasped her hands together. "A Bakugo-burrito for Gray-sama's rival-friend! Juvia thinks it's a wonderful idea, Lucy-san!"
Natsu, though initially confused by the burrito analogy, was quickly won over by the prospect of a stealth mission involving carrying an unconscious, explosive rival. "Yeah! Operation Bakugo Burrito! Let's do it!"
And so, a bizarre, hushed, and incredibly cautious operation commenced. Lucy dashed back to her own apartment (which, thankfully, was just next door) and returned with a stack of her fluffiest, sturdiest spare blankets. Under her whispered directions, Natsu and Gray, with a surprising degree of gentleness born more of self-preservation than tender care, carefully rolled the unconscious Katsuki onto the spread-out blankets. He remained deeply asleep, letting out a particularly loud snore as they maneuvered him, which made them all jump.
They then proceeded to wrap him snugly, but not too tightly, into a surprisingly secure blanket burrito. His arms were tucked inside, effectively neutralizing his explosive palms for the moment. Only his spiky ash-blond hair and his peacefully snoring (and still slightly frowning) face were visible.
"Perfect," Lucy whispered, surveying their handiwork with a mixture of pride and trepidation. "Okay, Natsu, Gray, lift him carefully. He's probably heavier than he looks."
With considerable effort and a few near-disasters involving tripped feet and suppressed giggles (mostly from Natsu and Happy), they managed to hoist the Katsuki-burrito. He was indeed surprisingly dense, all muscle and condensed fury even in sleep. They maneuvered him out of his apartment, their movements exaggeratedly stealthy.
Before they left, Lucy paused. "Wait! His door!" She quickly found Katsuki's key, which had fallen from his hand when he collapsed, locked the apartment securely, and then, as an extra precaution, pocketed the key herself. "He'll thank us later. Maybe. Probably not."
The journey back to the Fairy Tail guild hall with their unconscious, blanket-wrapped cargo was an exercise in controlled chaos. They drew more than a few bewildered stares from late-night revelers as they hurried through the streets of Magnolia, looking for all the world like they were kidnapping a very grumpy, very spiky-haired log.
They managed to smuggle him into the infirmary without waking the entire guild, though a few curious night-owl members did witness their strange procession. They gently deposited the Katsuki-burrito onto one of the clean infirmary beds.
Mirajane, who had been quietly tidying up the main hall, appeared as if summoned by magic, her expression an unreadable mixture of amusement and maternal concern as she took in the scene.
"My, my," she said, her voice a soft an unreadable mixture of amusement and maternal concern as she took in the scene.
"My, my," she said, her voice a soft chuckle. "Operation Bakugo Burrito, I presume?" She didn't even need to ask how they knew he was back or why he was unconscious; their guilty, sheepish faces told her enough.
Lucy wrung her hands. "He just… collapsed, Mirajane-san! He was so angry, and then he just… fainted! We didn't know what else to do! We used my blankets, not his!"
Mirajane walked over to the bed, gently adjusting the blanket around Katsuki's face. He was still deeply asleep, his breathing even. "You did the right thing, children," she said, her smile reassuring. "He clearly pushed himself far beyond his limits again. He needs rest, and perhaps a little less… enthusiastic welcoming committees for a while." She gave them a pointed but gentle look.
"Heh heh," she then added, a mischievous glint in her eyes that made them all shiver slightly, "I'll take care of him. Make sure he's… comfortable when he wakes up. And perhaps I'll have a little chat with him about the importance of not overexerting oneself, and the joys of a quiet convalescence." The way she said "chat" implied something far more terrifying than a simple conversation.
Team Natsu and Juvia practically tripped over themselves in their haste to vacate the infirmary, leaving their volatile guildmate in Mirajane's capable, if slightly intimidating, hands. They had successfully averted immediate explosive retaliation, but they had a sinking feeling that Katsuki Bakugo's eventual awakening was still going to be… memorable. For now, though, he was safe, sound, and securely burritoed. And Mirajane was on watch. Magnolia could sleep soundly. For a little while, at least.
---
Just as Team Natsu and Juvia were making their hushed, guilt-ridden escape from the infirmary, convinced they had successfully navigated another Bakugo-related crisis, a stern, unmistakable voice cut through the relative quiet of the late-night guild hall.
"And just where do you think you are all going?"
They froze, winching collectively. Leaning against the doorframe of the main hall, arms crossed, her expression a formidable blend of disapproval and thinly veiled amusement, was Erza Scarlet. She had clearly witnessed their clandestine operation involving the blanket-wrapped Katsuki.
"E-Erza!" Natsu stammered, instinctively trying to hide behind Gray, who just elbowed him away.
"We were just, uh, helping Bakugo!" Lucy offered weakly, her smile trembling slightly. "He fainted, so we brought him here!"
Erza's eyebrow arched. "Fainted? Or was perhaps provoked into a state of such extreme agitation by a certain group of overly boisterous individuals invading his personal space after he'd clearly indicated a need for rest?" Her gaze, sharp as any of her swords, pinned each of them in turn.
Juvia looked down at her feet. "Juvia admits her part in the… enthusiastic greeting, Erza-san. It was ill-advised."
Erza pushed herself off the doorframe and slowly advanced on them, her armored footsteps echoing ominously in the quiet hall. "Ill-advised is an understatement. Bakugo may be… challenging, but he has made his boundaries clear. And after the day he has had, pushing himself to the brink multiple times, what he required was peace, not a surprise party in his shoebox apartment."
She stopped before them, her shadow falling over the nervous group. "I recall a certain explosive young man offering some… unsolicited advice earlier today. Something about paying a significant sum for preferential treatment?" A dangerous glint appeared in Erza's eyes. "Well, consider this your repayment for his… consideration, and for your subsequent lack of it."
What followed was not a physical reprimand – Erza knew that would only escalate things, especially with Natsu and Gray. Instead, she delivered a meticulous, systematic, and utterly terrifying lecture on the importance of respecting personal boundaries, the nuances of appropriate social interaction with volatile individuals, the strategic value of allowing comrades adequate recovery time, and the potential diplomatic incidents that could arise from inadvertently provoking a mage capable of leveling city blocks. She dissected their actions, pointed out their flaws in logic, and outlined, in excruciating detail, the various ways their good intentions had nearly resulted in catastrophic property damage and possibly another international incident (or at least, another very large repair bill for the guild).
It was a masterclass in verbal castigation, delivered with Titania's signature unwavering intensity. By the time she was finished, Natsu was whimpering for Igneel, Gray was actually looking pale and thoughtful, Lucy was on the verge of tears, and Juvia was vowing to only observe Gray-sama's rival-friend from a very, very safe distance in the future. Happy had long since hidden himself in the rafters.
"Consider this a lesson learned," Erza concluded, her voice softening almost imperceptibly. "Now, go home. And perhaps reflect on how to be… slightly less like a rampaging herd of buffalos when attempting to show concern for your guildmates." With a final, stern glare, she dismissed them. They scattered like startled deer, leaving Erza alone in the hall, a small, almost satisfied smile playing on her lips. Katsuki Bakugo might be a handful, but he was, in his own abrasive way, already inspiring a certain… reciprocal consideration amongst his new comrades. Even if it had to be beaten into them. Verbally.
The next time Katsuki woke, it was to the gentle, diffused light of midday filtering into the infirmary. He felt… remarkably better. The bone-deep exhaustion was gone, replaced by a lingering, pleasant weariness. His body felt strong, healed, the subtle thrum of enhanced power still present. He sat up, stretching, feeling the satisfying pull of mended muscles. He was still in the infirmary pajamas.
"Ah, you're awake, Bakugo-san. And looking much more… coherent this time."
Mirajane's voice, calm and cheerful, came from the doorway. She entered, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of what smelled like a hearty broth and a cup of tea.
"Slept like a damn log," Katsuki grunted, his voice still a little rough. He eyed the tray. "Food. Good."
Mirajane placed the tray on the bedside table. "Indeed. You were out for nearly another full day. Your body clearly needed the rest." She smiled, but there was a glint in her eye that Katsuki was beginning to recognize as a precursor to something less than pleasant. "And now that you're rested and refueled, I believe we were due for a little… chat."
Katsuki narrowed his eyes. He remembered her saying something similar before he'd stormed out to find his ruined clothes. "'Chat'?" he repeated suspiciously.
"Yes," Mirajane said, her smile becoming a touch sweeter, a touch more… pointed. "A chat about sustainable work habits, the importance of recognizing one's physical and magical limits, the potential consequences of repeatedly pushing oneself to the brink of self-annihilation, and perhaps a brief discussion on the merits of not terrifying one's guildmates into believing they need to perform emergency burrito-wrapping interventions."
Katsuki blinked. "Burrito-wrapping… what the FUCK are you talking about?"
Mirajane just chuckled, a light, airy sound that somehow sent a shiver down his spine. What followed was not, in fact, a chat. It was a lecture. A gentle, smiling, utterly relentless lecture, delivered with Mirajane's signature serene demeanor, yet laced with an undeniable undercurrent of firm disapproval and a surprising depth of knowledge about his recent, near-fatal exploits. She didn't raise her voice, she didn't scold in the traditional sense, but she systematically dismantled his reckless behavior, pointed out the strain he was putting on himself and, indirectly, on the guild's resources (namely, its healers and its collective sanity). She spoke of balance, of pacing, of the fact that even the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight couldn't run on pure rage and adrenaline indefinitely without eventually collapsing in a heap.
It was, in its own way, even more effective than Erza's verbal beatdown of Team Natsu. Erza's reprimands were like a thunderstorm – loud, intense, and quickly passing. Mirajane's lecture was like a slow, steady erosion, a relentless tide of calm, irrefutable logic and gentle, nagging concern that was impossible to deflect with anger or bluster.
Katsuki found himself, to his immense frustration, actually listening. He grumbled, he scowled, he occasionally interjected with a defiant "Tch!" or a muttered curse, but he couldn't escape the quiet, persistent truth in her words. He had been reckless. He had pushed himself too far. And he had, apparently, been burrito-wrapped, a fact that made his eye twitch uncontrollably when she finally, with a perfectly innocent expression, elaborated on Team Natsu's panicked solution to his fainting spell.
By the time she was finished, leaving him with a final, gentle admonition to "please try not to require another emergency burrito intervention in the near future, Dynamight-san, it does so wrinkle Lucy-chan's good blankets," Katsuki felt… thoroughly, comprehensively, and infuriatingly nagged. He was also, to his grudging surprise, feeling a strange sense of… being cared for, in a bizarre, roundabout, Fairy Tail sort of way.
He ate his broth in sullen silence, Mirajane humming cheerfully as she tidied the infirmary. He was healed, he was rested, and he had been lectured into a state of grudging self-awareness. It was, all in all, a typical Fairy Tail recovery. Now, he just needed to figure out how to earn five million Jewel without accidentally blowing himself up or getting wrapped in any more damn blankets.