As Mirajane finally, reluctantly, pulled back from their second kiss – a kiss that had been longer, deeper, and far more possessive than the first – she found Katsuki in a state of near-total system collapse. His crimson eyes, usually so sharp and fiery, were wide, dazed, and unfocused, staring at some point just past her shoulder as if he'd just witnessed the birth of a new universe (which, in a way, he had). The furious blush that had started on his neck had now engulfed his entire face, reaching the tips of his ears, making him look like a particularly volatile, ash-blond tomato. His usual aggressive posture had completely dissolved; he was slumped against the bar, propped up more by her lingering grip on the back of his neck than by his own volition. His mouth was slightly agape, and he seemed to have forgotten how to form coherent words, let alone his usual string of creative curses.
Mirajane, her own heart still pounding a triumphant, exhilarating rhythm, looked at him, and a wave of overwhelming, almost painfully tender amusement washed over her. He was, to put it mildly, adorable. Utterly, hilariously, and unexpectedly adorable in his current state of bewilderment. This fierce, explosive warrior, who could make mountains tremble and dark guilds weep, was reduced to a blushing, speechless puddle by a couple of well-aimed kisses and a possessive declaration.
"Oh, my," she thought, her internal voice practically purring with delight. "He's gone into… 'Shy Shy Mode'." The term popped into her head, perfectly encapsulating his current state of adorable, flustered vulnerability. It was a side of him she hadn't even known existed, a hidden facet beneath the layers of explosions and anger, and it was, quite frankly, irresistible.
His breakfast – or rather, his second breakfast, given the time of day – was still sitting on the bar, forgotten amidst the high emotional drama. The massive steak, the mountain of potatoes… he hadn't even touched them after his initial furious demands. And now, he looked like he might faint again, not from exhaustion this time, but from sheer, overwhelming emotional overload.
A new, delightfully mischievous, and surprisingly maternal idea sparked in Mirajane's mind. If he was too flustered to feed himself… well, she couldn't let him go hungry, could she? Especially not after such an… eventful morning.
With a smile that was pure, angelic sweetness on the surface but held a universe of playful intent beneath, Mirajane gently released her grip on his neck, only to pick up his fork. She expertly speared a small, manageable piece of the cooling steak, then, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of tenderness and triumphant amusement, she brought the fork to Katsuki's still-slightly-agape lips.
"Open wide, Dynamight-san," she cooed, her voice as soft and sweet as honey. "You must be famished after all that… excitement. A growing boy needs his protein, after all."
Katsuki stared at the fork, then at Mirajane's beatific smile, then back at the fork. His brain, still struggling to reboot from the multiple kisses and the "You're MINE!" declaration, seemed to short-circuit all over again. Being fed? By hand? By her? Like a… like a damn baby bird?
He wanted to snarl, to slap the fork away, to explode. But his body, his mind, his very will, seemed to be operating on a different, far more flustered and compliant, frequency. He just… stared, his blush somehow deepening even further, if that were possible.
Mirajane just waited patiently, her smile unwavering, the fork hovering invitingly.
And then, to the utter, collective, slack-jawed astonishment of every single Fairy Tail member still capable of coherent observation, Katsuki Bakugo, the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, slowly, hesitantly, opened his mouth.
Mirajane gently placed the piece of steak inside. Katsuki chewed, mechanically, his eyes still wide and dazed, his gaze fixed on her with an expression of profound, almost terrified, bewilderment.
The guild hall, which had been a cacophony of excited whispers and suppressed giggles, fell into a silence so profound you could have heard a pin drop. Or perhaps, the sound of several dozen jaws collectively hitting the floorboards.
Natsu, mid-brawl with Gray (who was, by now, inexplicably shirtless again despite his earlier forced re-dressing), stopped dead, a piece of ice lodged in his hair, his mouth hanging open. "Did… did Mira just… FEED Bakugo? Like… like Happy feeds me fish?!"
Gray just stared, his usual snarky retorts completely failing him. He looked like he'd seen a ghost. A very well-fed, very shy, very explosive ghost.
Cana actually dropped her beloved barrel, the sound of it thudding onto the floor a dull punctuation mark in the stunned silence. Levy's glasses nearly fell off her nose. Erza, for the first time in living memory, looked genuinely, utterly, speechless.
Mirajane Strauss, the epitome of grace and power, was hand-feeding Katsuki Bakugo, the guild's resident human inferno, who was currently exhibiting all the ferocious aggression of a startled kitten. It was a scene so surreal, so completely outside the realm of anything they could have possibly imagined, that it bordered on the divine… or possibly the demonic, depending on one's perspective of Mirajane's true nature.
Mirajane, completely unfazed by the stunned silence of her guildmates (or perhaps, reveling in it), just smiled sweetly at Katsuki, speared another piece of potato, and offered it to him. "There you go, dear. You need to keep your strength up. After all," she added, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that only he could hear, her eyes dancing with a wicked, possessive light, "my explosive hero needs to be well-nourished, doesn't he?"
Katsuki just swallowed, his blush now a permanent fixture, his brain officially on an extended vacation. He had no idea what was happening anymore. He just knew that Mirajane Strauss was feeding him steak, her smile was terrifyingly beautiful, and the entire world had apparently gone completely, gloriously, and wonderfully insane. And a very small, very confused, and very, very shy part of him… kind of liked it.
The surreal spectacle of Mirajane hand-feeding a dazed and blushing Katsuki continued for a few more agonizingly sweet (for Mirajane) and utterly bewildering (for everyone else) moments. Katsuki, still operating in what could only be described as his "Shy Shy Mode," passively accepted a few more bites of steak and potato, his gaze fixed on Mirajane with a mixture of terror, confusion, and a dawning, almost hypnotic, fascination. The rest of Fairy Tail remained in a state of stunned, captivated silence, witnessing a level of domesticity from two of their most formidable (and in Katsuki's case, volatile) members that bordered on the unbelievable.
Then, something within Katsuki seemed to… reboot. Perhaps it was the sheer, overwhelming absurdity of the situation. Perhaps it was a rogue spark of his ingrained, aggressive pride finally managing to break through the fog of his romantic bewilderment. Or perhaps, just perhaps, it was the first, tentative stirring of a reciprocal, if incredibly awkward, affection.
As Mirajane offered him another piece of perfectly cooked steak, her smile serene and beatific, Katsuki's hand, which had been lying limply at his side, suddenly shot out. Not to slap the fork away, not to explode, but to intercept it. His fingers closed around hers, gently but firmly, stopping her mid-motion.
Mirajane blinked, her smile faltering for a fraction of a second, a flicker of surprise in her sapphire eyes. Had her game gone too far? Was the dynamite finally about to re-ignite?
Katsuki stared at the piece of steak on the fork, then his gaze, still slightly dazed but now with a new, fierce intensity burning within his crimson eyes, lifted to meet hers. His blush was still present, a fiery testament to his internal turmoil, but his usual scowl was trying to reassert itself, warring with an expression of profound, almost painful, shyness. It was a look Mirajane would later privately dub his "Fierce x Shy Mode" – a dangerously adorable and utterly unpredictable combination.
He didn't say anything. Instead, with a grunt that was pure Katsuki, he took the fork from her unresisting fingers. The guild watched, breathless, wondering what explosive act was about to occur.
But Katsuki didn't throw the fork. He didn't stab anyone with it. He didn't even eat the piece of steak himself.
Instead, with a jerky, almost painfully awkward movement, his face still flaming red, his eyes darting around as if to make sure no one was too closely observing this monumental act of uncharacteristic behavior (despite the fact that the entire guild was practically holding its collective breath), he turned the fork around.
And offered the piece of steak to Mirajane.
His voice, when he finally spoke, was a low, gravelly rumble, rough with unshed emotion and a monumental effort of will. "You… uh… you probably haven't eaten either, dumbass… dealing with all my bullshit…"
The gesture, so unexpected, so completely out of character, so… considerate, was like a second, even more powerful, explosion in the already reeling guild hall.
If Mirajane had been flustered before, she was now utterly, incandescently, speechless. Her sapphire eyes widened to their absolute limit, her perfectly shaped lips parting in a silent gasp. Her own blush, which had begun to recede, now returned with a vengeance, mirroring his own. He… Katsuki Bakugo… was trying to feed her? After she had just kissed him senseless and declared him hers? The sheer, awkward, and unbelievably sweet reciprocity of it… it melted her heart into a puddle.
She stared at the piece of steak, then at Katsuki's fiercely averted gaze (he was now intently studying a particularly interesting knot in the wooden bar top as if it held the secrets of the universe), then back at the steak.
A watery, brilliant sheen filmed her eyes. This infuriating, explosive, arrogant, and now unbelievably, awkwardly endearing boy… he was going to be the absolute death of her. And she wouldn't have it any other way.
With a trembling hand, she reached out and allowed her fingers to brush against his as she guided the fork to her own lips. She took the bite, her gaze never leaving his still-averted face. The steak, which she had cooked herself, suddenly tasted like the most delicious thing she had ever eaten.
"Thank you… Katsuki," she whispered, her voice thick with an emotion that made his head snap up, his crimson eyes finally meeting hers, wide and startled by her use of his first name in such a tender, direct way.
The guild hall didn't erupt this time. There were no cheers, no gasps. Just a profound, awed, and slightly misty-eyed silence. They were witnessing something truly extraordinary, a moment of such unexpected, awkward, and yet deeply genuine connection between two of the most unlikely individuals, that it transcended mere entertainment. It was… beautiful. In a very Fairy Tail, very explosive, very "what the actual hell is happening right now" kind of way.
Katsuki just stared at her, his fierce blush warring with a dawning, confused softness in his eyes. He had no idea why he'd done that. It had just… felt right. Like an instinct. Like a… response.
He quickly looked away again, grumbling something incoherent about "not wasting good meat," but the damage was done. The Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, in his full "Fierce x Shy Mode," had just performed an act of such unexpected, tender reciprocity that it had probably just rewritten several fundamental laws of the Fairy Tail universe. And Mirajane Strauss, for one, was absolutely, irrevocably, and deliriously thrilled by the beautiful, chaotic, and utterly unpredictable implications.
Just as the profound, slightly misty-eyed silence in the Fairy Tail guild hall reached its peak, with Katsuki and Mirajane locked in a moment of awkward, tender, steak-sharing reciprocity, the massive front doors of the guild creaked open. The sudden noise, after the almost reverent quiet, made everyone jump.
Framed in the doorway, silhouetted against the bright afternoon sun, was a figure many hadn't seen in several weeks. Lisanna Strauss, Mirajane's younger sister, her short white hair ruffled from travel, a tired but cheerful grin on her face, stood there, a dusty travel pack slung over her shoulder.
"I'm baaaack!" she called out, her voice bright and full of her usual bubbly energy. "Did ya miss me? My mission in Seven took a little longer than expected, but the Gem-Eyed Griffins are officially no more! And boy, do I have stories! Is Mira-nee around? I'm starving and I could really use one of her…
Her voice trailed off. Her cheerful grin faltered. Her eyes, so like Mirajane's in their sapphire hue, slowly widened as she took in the scene before her.
The entire guild hall was frozen, every single member staring, with varying degrees of shock, awe, and utter bewilderment, towards the bar.
At the bar, her older sister, Mirajane – the calm, composed, sometimes terrifyingly serene Mirajane – was blushing like a schoolgirl, a half-eaten piece of steak on a fork held delicately in her trembling hand.
And being fed that steak, or rather, having just fed her sister that steak, was a fierce-looking, ash-blond young man Lisanna had never seen before, who was also blushing a furious, almost incandescent red, and currently looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
The atmosphere in the room was so thick with unspoken emotion, romantic tension, and sheer, unadulterated "what-in-Fiore-is-happening" energy that Lisanna could practically taste it.
"Uh…" Lisanna began, her initial cheerful momentum completely derailed. She blinked, trying to process the tableau. "Mira-nee? Is… is that… a new… friend?" She looked from Mirajane's flustered, radiant face to Katsuki's fiercely shy, tomato-red one, and back again. Her mind, usually quick and perceptive, struggled to connect the dots. This was… not a scenario she had ever envisioned walking into.
The silence in the guild hall stretched, taut and expectant. Every eye, which had been fixed on the steak-sharing drama, now swiveled to Lisanna, then back to Mirajane and Katsuki, a silent, collective demand for explanation hanging in the air.
Mirajane, startled by her sister's sudden appearance, jumped slightly, nearly dropping the fork. Her blush, if possible, deepened even further. "L-Lisanna!" she stammered, her voice a mixture of surprise, delight at seeing her sister, and acute, overwhelming embarrassment at being caught in such a… compromisingly domestic situation. "You're… you're back! So soon! We… we weren't expecting you!"
Katsuki, meanwhile, looked like he wanted to spontaneously combust. Another witness. Another person seeing him in this state of utter, uncharacteristic… fluster. He shot Lisanna a glare that was meant to be intimidating but, given his current tomato-faced, shy-dynamite predicament, probably just looked like a particularly angry, embarrassed kitten.
Lisanna took a hesitant step into the guild hall, her gaze still wide with a mixture of confusion and dawning, fascinated curiosity. She looked around at the frozen, staring faces of her guildmates, then back at her sister and the mysterious, blushing blond.
"Um… did I… interrupt something?" she asked, her voice small, her earlier ebullience completely gone, replaced by a cautious, almost tiptoeing uncertainty.
The tension in the room was so thick, it could have been cut with one of Erza's swords. This homecoming was definitely not going according to plan. And Lisanna Strauss had a very strong, very strange feeling that she had just walked into the middle of something incredibly significant, incredibly complicated, and quite possibly, incredibly explosive.
Mirajane, still reeling from her sister's unexpected entrance and the sudden, intense scrutiny of the entire guild, scrambled to regain some semblance of her usual composure. Her mind, usually so adept at navigating complex social dynamics, was currently a whirlwind of conflicting emotions: delight at Lisanna's safe return, acute embarrassment at being caught in such a… tender moment, and a dawning, almost giddy realization that this entire, beautifully chaotic situation was escalating beyond her wildest dreams.
She forced a bright, slightly strained smile. "Lisanna! Welcome home, dear! No, no, you didn't interrupt anything at all!" she trilled, her voice a little too high, a little too cheerful. She gestured vaguely with the fork, the piece of steak still precariously balanced on it, towards Katsuki, who looked like he was actively trying to will himself to dematerialize. "I was just… ah… feeding Bakugo-san here! He had a rather… strenuous morning, you know? And he seemed a bit… overwhelmed. Just making sure he got some nourishment!" She offered a laugh that sounded a touch too brittle.
Katsuki, however, still caught in the throes of his "Fierce x Shy Mode," and perhaps emboldened by a strange, inexplicable surge of… honesty? Or maybe just a complete inability to lie convincingly in his current flustered state, decided to contribute to the explanation. Or rather, to complicate it further.
He cleared his throat, his gaze still resolutely fixed on the floor, his face burning. His voice was a low, mumbled growl, but in the pin-drop silence of the guild hall, every word was crystal clear.
"I… also fed her."
The addendum, so simple, so stark, so utterly, unexpectedly revealing, hung in the air like a second, even more potent, explosion.
If the guild had been stunned before, they were now catatonic. Jaws, which had tentatively begun to close, dropped open again with audible thuds. Eyes, already wide, bulged. Natsu, who had been trying to sneakily re-engage Gray in their brawl, froze mid-punch, his expression one of utter, uncomprehending bafflement.
Lisanna blinked slowly, her gaze shifting from her flustered older sister to the fiercely blushing, mumbling blond, and back again. "You… you also fed Mira-nee?" she repeated, her voice a mixture of dawning disbelief and an almost childlike wonder. This was… not normal. This was several dimensions beyond not normal. Her sister, the elegant, composed, sometimes terrifyingly powerful Mirajane, being fed? By this explosive, scowling, and apparently incredibly shy newcomer?
Mirajane's bright smile wavered, then collapsed entirely. Her face, which had been trying to regain some semblance of its usual pallor, now bloomed into an even more spectacular shade of crimson. Katsuki's blunt, artless addendum had just torpedoed any attempt she might have made to downplay the situation.
"W-well, yes, he… he did offer me a bite," Mirajane stammered, her composure completely deserting her again. She looked helplessly from Lisanna to Katsuki, then around at the sea of stunned, fascinated faces. "It was… a very… considerate gesture! After all the… excitement!"
"Considerate?" Cana choked out from her seat, then quickly slapped a hand over her mouth, though her eyes were dancing with unrestrained glee.
Katsuki, meanwhile, seemed to realize the full implication of his mumbled confession. He shot a horrified glance at the stunned faces of his guildmates, then at Mirajane's equally mortified expression. He hadn't meant to… to announce it like that! He'd just… it had just slipped out! Because it was true! And because Mirajane was trying to make it sound like he was some helpless invalid!
He let out a frustrated groan that was almost a whimper, burying his face in his hands. "Oh, for fuck's sake…"
This was a disaster. An absolute, unmitigated, romantic comedy of errors and awkward confessions, playing out on the main stage of the Fairy Tail guild hall.
Lisanna, however, after a moment of stunned silence, began to smile. It was a slow, dawning smile, a smile that held a world of understanding, affection, and a healthy dose of her own Strauss family mischievousness. She looked at her older sister, truly looked at her – at the uncharacteristic blush, the flustered demeanor, the way her eyes kept darting towards the equally flustered blond. And then she looked at Katsuki, at his fierce blush, his mumbled confession, the way he seemed to radiate a strange mixture of explosive energy and acute, almost painful shyness whenever he was near Mirajane.
Oh, Lisanna thought, a warm, happy feeling spreading through her. Oh, Mira-nee. So this is it.
She walked further into the guild hall, her earlier fatigue forgotten, her grin widening. "Well," she said, her voice bright and cheerful again, deliberately breaking the stunned silence. "It certainly sounds like I've missed a lot while I was away! Perhaps someone," she looked pointedly at Mirajane, then at Katsuki, her eyes twinkling, "would care to fill me in on all the… 'considerate gestures' and… 'strenuous mornings' I haven't heard about? Over a very large, very celebratory welcome-home meal, perhaps?"
Her words, and her knowing, affectionate smile, seemed to finally break the spell. A few nervous chuckles rippled through the guild, then a wave of excited, relieved chatter. The tension hadn't disappeared, but it had shifted, softened, transformed into something more akin to delighted, familial teasing.
Mirajane looked at her younger sister, a mixture of gratitude and exasperation in her eyes. Leave it to Lisanna to cut through the awkwardness with such cheerful, disarming directness.
Katsuki just groaned again, still hiding his face. This was going to be a very, very long afternoon. And he had a sinking feeling that the story of him, Mirajane, and the shared steak was about to become a permanent, very embarrassing, chapter in the ever-expanding legend of Fairy Tail.
Lisanna's cheerful, if pointed, offer to be "filled in" over a celebratory meal acted as a much-needed pressure release valve in the superheated atmosphere of the guild hall. Mirajane, visibly grateful for her sister's intervention, quickly seized the opportunity to regain some semblance of normalcy.
"Yes, Lisanna, dear! A welcome-home meal is a wonderful idea!" she exclaimed, her voice regaining some of its usual warmth, though her cheeks remained stubbornly pink. "I'll whip up something special! Your favorite, perhaps?" She bustled behind the bar, suddenly a whirlwind of activity, perhaps a little too eager to immerse herself in the familiar comfort of cooking rather than face the lingering, intensely awkward aftermath of the 'steak-feeding incident.'
The guild members, sensing a return to slightly more familiar territory, began to relax, their chatter growing louder, though many still shot curious, amused glances towards the bar and the still-mortified Katsuki.
Katsuki, however, was not recovering. Lisanna's arrival, her questions, the renewed attention of the entire guild focused on his and Mirajane's bizarre, intimate moment – it was all too much. He was still reeling from the kisses, from his own uncharacteristic shyness, from the sheer, overwhelming emotional rollercoaster of the past hour. He felt exposed, vulnerable, his carefully constructed walls of aggression and indifference shattered.
He needed to escape. Now.
While Mirajane was enthusiastically discussing menu options with Lisanna, and the rest of the guild was momentarily distracted by the promise of free food, Katsuki saw his chance. He slowly, almost stealthily, lowered his hands from his face. His expression was no longer just shy or flustered; it was one of barely contained panic, his crimson eyes wide and darting, like a cornered animal seeking an escape route.
He couldn't stay here. He couldn't face them. He couldn't face her, not right now, not with his emotions in such a chaotic, incomprehensible tangle.
With a suddenness that caught everyone off guard, he bolted.
One moment he was slumped at the bar, a picture of mortified dejection; the next, he was a blur of motion, scrambling off the stool and sprinting towards the guild doors with a speed that would have impressed even Jet. He didn't shout, didn't curse, didn't even grunt. He just ran, a silent, desperate flight.
He reached the doors, flung them open, and then, with a sound that was less a controlled launch and more a choked, panicked BOOM, he exploded into the sky. It wasn't his usual precise Turbo Cluster, nor his silent Frictionless Mode. It was a ragged, uncontrolled, almost desperate series of Quirk-blasts, fueled by sheer, overwhelming panic, sending him careening wildly into the afternoon sky, destination unknown.
The sudden, panicked explosion and his even more sudden departure ripped through the guild hall, shocking everyone out of their food-focused reverie.
"Bakugo?!" Natsu yelled, jumping up, his earlier brawl with Gray forgotten. "Where's he going?! He didn't even finish his… uh… being fed!"
Lucy gasped. "He looked… terrified! What happened?"
Mirajane, who had just been assuring Lisanna that yes, she could definitely make her favorite griffin-egg soufflé, whirled around, her eyes wide with alarm as she saw Katsuki's erratic, panicked flight path disappearing over the rooftops. "Katsuki!" she cried out, her voice filled with a sudden, sharp anxiety that cut through her earlier teasing. This wasn't him being his usual aggressive self. This was… different. This was him running from something, from them, from her.
Erza, her expression instantly hardening with concern, was already on her feet. "That was not a controlled departure! His energy signature was erratic, almost… panicked! Something's wrong!"
Makarov, who had been observing the earlier romantic comedy with a mixture of amusement and paternal warmth, now looked grave. "He's not himself," the Guild Master declared, his voice cutting through the rising babble of concern. "That boy has been through an immense amount of emotional and physical trauma. This… this latest development, however well-intentioned, may have pushed him too far, too fast."
He looked at Team Natsu, at Lisanna, at the other concerned faces. "We need to find him! He's powerful, yes, but in this state, he could be a danger to himself or others, unintentionally! He's vulnerable, and he's running scared!"
A new kind of urgency filled the guild hall, replacing the earlier amusement and romantic speculation. Their newest, most explosive, and now clearly most emotionally fragile member was on the run, not in anger this time, but in what looked like a genuine panic.
"I'll go!" Natsu yelled, already charging for the door, flames igniting. "I can sniff him out!"
"We'll all go!" Erza declared, her hand already reaching for a sword. "Spread out! Search the areas he's frequented! Lake Sciliora, the sparring grounds, the forests! Happy, Carla, take to the skies!"
The Fairy Tail guild, which had just been reveling in a moment of unexpected romance, now mobilized with the swift, coordinated efficiency of a seasoned rescue team. They had to catch him, fast. Katsuki Bakugo, in his current state of "Fierce x Shy Mode" overload, was a volatile, unpredictable element, and they needed to bring their newest, most bewildering family member back before he truly exploded, or worse, imploded from the sheer, overwhelming weight of emotions he clearly had no idea how to handle. The hunt for the panicked Dynamight was on.
Katsuki's flight was a jagged, desperate trajectory across the sky, each Quirk-blast a panicked, uncontrolled expulsion of energy rather than a precise means of propulsion. He wasn't thinking, just reacting, his mind a maelstrom of Mirajane's blazing sapphire eyes, the phantom sensation of her lips on his, her possessive declaration, his own mortifyingly shy responses, and the sudden, overwhelming weight of the entire guild's knowing, amused, or perhaps pitying, gazes. It was too much. He felt like his chest was going to explode, not from his Quirk, but from the sheer, overwhelming pressure of these new, terrifying, and utterly incomprehensible emotions.
He didn't have a destination in mind, just a desperate need to get away, to find somewhere quiet, somewhere he could think, somewhere no one would look at him with that knowing, teasing, or worse, sympathetic expression. His erratic flight path took him over the familiar hills outside Magnolia, his movements jerky, his altitude unstable. He was a wounded bird, flying blindly.
Then, through the haze of his panic, a familiar landmark registered – a small, isolated hut nestled deep within a secluded grove, a thin plume of medicinal-smelling smoke curling from its chimney. Porlyusica's place.
The old healer, with her gruff demeanor, her disdain for humans, and her surprisingly effective (if often painful) remedies. She was the last person he would have consciously sought out for… for this. But in his current state of emotional freefall, her isolated hut, her no-nonsense attitude, suddenly seemed like the only sanctuary he could think of. She wouldn't tease him. She wouldn't coo over him. She'd probably just insult him and tell him to stop being an idiot, which, right now, sounded almost… comforting.
He landed, or rather, practically crashed, in the small clearing in front of her hut, his legs giving out, sending him sprawling onto the mossy ground. He lay there for a moment, panting, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He was a mess – emotionally, mentally, and probably still physically, despite his recent recovery.
He pushed himself up, stumbled to her door, and, without even bothering to knock, flung it open.
Porlyusica, who had been grinding herbs with a stone pestle and mortar, looked up, her sharp, bird-like eyes narrowing at the sudden, unceremonious intrusion. She took in his disheveled state, his wild eyes, his ragged breathing.
"Well, well," she croaked, her voice as dry as old parchment. "If it isn't the human firework. Back for another near-death experience so soon? Or have you merely misplaced your common sense again?"
But Katsuki didn't respond with his usual snarl or insult. He just stood there, trembling slightly, his usual fierce bravado completely gone, replaced by a raw, desperate vulnerability that Porlyusica, despite her professed hatred for humans, found… startlingly disarming.
Then, in a voice that was small, cracked, and utterly, heartbreakingly sincere, Katsuki Bakugo, the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, asked the most un-Katsuki-like question imaginable.
"Granny…" he began, the honorific so uncharacteristic it made Porlyusica's eyebrows shoot up. "…What… what do I do… to be confident… when I'm… in love?!" The last two words were a choked whisper, dragged out of him as if by torture. "My heart… it keeps going 'doki-doki'… like it's gonna explode for real this time… and I… I don't know what to do!"
He looked at her, his crimson eyes wide with a mixture of panic, confusion, and a desperate plea for answers, his usual fierce scowl replaced by an expression of utter, bewildered torment. He looked less like a terrifying warrior and more like a very lost, very scared, and very, very lovesick puppy.
Meanwhile, the Fairy Tail rescue squad, led by a determined Erza and a frantically sniffing Natsu, had fanned out, following the general trajectory of Katsuki's panicked, erratic flight. They found traces of his passage – a few scorched treetops, a patch of unnaturally disturbed earth where he'd clearly stumbled. His energy signature, usually so focused and powerful, was scattered, chaotic.
"He's heading towards the western hills!" Natsu yelled, his nose to the ground. "His scent is… weird! All panicky and… kinda sweet? Like Mira's cakes, but also… explodey!"
"Porlyusica-sama's cottage is in that direction," Erza noted, her expression thoughtful. "Could he have gone there?" It seemed unlikely, given Porlyusica's notorious temperament and Katsuki's own prickly nature.
But as they drew closer, they heard it – or rather, didn't hear it. No explosions. No roars of rage. Just a strange, almost unnerving quiet emanating from the direction of the healer's isolated dwelling.
They approached cautiously, peering through the trees. And then they saw it.
Katsuki Bakugo was sitting on a small, moss-covered log outside Porlyusica's hut. Porlyusica herself was sitting beside him on a rustic stool, patting his shoulder with a gnarled, surprisingly gentle hand. Katsuki's head was bowed, his shoulders slumped, and he seemed to be… talking. Quietly. Earnestly. And Porlyusica, the infamous human-hating healer, was… listening. Patiently. Even nodding occasionally.
The sight was so surreal, so utterly unexpected, that Team Natsu (and Lisanna, who had insisted on joining the search, her earlier cheerfulness replaced by a worried frown for both her sister and the explosive blond) just stopped in their tracks, staring in stunned disbelief.
Porlyusica's usual aura of cantankerous misanthropy seemed to have… vanished, at least where Katsuki was concerned. She wasn't insulting him, wasn't shooing him away with a broom. She was… consoling him? Her expression, while still stern, held a strange, almost grandmotherly softness as she spoke to him in low, soothing tones, occasionally offering him a cup of what looked like herbal tea.
Natsu sniffed the air again. "She… she smells like she's baking cookies? And… is Bakugo… crying?" (He wasn't, not really, but his face was still flushed, his eyes suspiciously bright, and his voice, when they caught snippets of it, was thick with an unfamiliar, raw emotion.)
Lucy just stared, her jaw agape. "Porlyusica-sama… being… nice? To Bakugo? And he's asking her for… love advice?!" The world had officially tilted off its axis.
Erza watched, a slow, almost tender smile spreading across her face. She had always known Porlyusica had a hidden soft spot, a deep well of compassion beneath her thorny exterior, reserved for those truly in need, especially the young and the lost. And Katsuki, for all his power and fury, was undeniably both.
It seemed the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, in his moment of profound romantic panic, had stumbled into the one place, and sought counsel from the one person, who could offer him not judgment, not teasing, but a gruff, no-nonsense, and surprisingly effective form of grandmotherly wisdom.
The Fairy Tail mages exchanged bewildered, awestruck glances. Their newest, most volatile member was full of an endless supply of surprises. And it seemed even the most hardened, human-hating hearts in Fiore weren't entirely immune to the strange, chaotic, and unexpectedly vulnerable charm of Katsuki Bakugo when he was well and truly in over his explosive head.
The consultation with Porlyusica, however bizarre and unexpected, seemed to have had a somewhat calming effect on Katsuki. When Team Natsu and Lisanna finally, cautiously, made their presence known (Erza clearing her throat discreetly), Katsuki didn't immediately explode or try to flee again. He looked up, his face still flushed, his eyes still holding that raw, vulnerable intensity, but the sheer, unadulterated panic had subsided, replaced by a kind of weary, embarrassed resignation.
Porlyusica, her grandmotherly demeanor vanishing as swiftly as it had appeared the moment other humans approached, fixed them with her usual glare. "Well? What do you gawking fools want? Can't an old woman have a private conversation without an entire circus troupe descending upon her?"
Katsuki, surprisingly, was the one who spoke, his voice still a little rough but more controlled. "They… they were probably worried. After I… uh… bolted." He looked down at his hands, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over him.
Getting him to leave Porlyusica's sanctuary, however, proved to be a delicate operation. He seemed to have found a strange sort of comfort in the old healer's gruff, straightforward advice, and was reluctant to face the well-meaning but inevitably overwhelming chaos of his guildmates, especially after his earlier emotional meltdown.
It was only after Porlyusica, with a surprising gentleness, assured him that "young love is always a messy, idiotic business, but not usually fatal, not even for explosive imbeciles like yourself," and after Katsuki, in a moment of uncharacteristic gratitude and perhaps a desire to repay her unexpected kindness, awkwardly promised to "buy you some… uh… seedlings, or whatever, for your damn plants… the good kind, from that fancy nursery in Oak Town," that he finally, reluctantly, agreed to return to the guild. He still looked like he'd rather face another ten Krakens than Mirajane and the knowing smirks of his guildmates, but he also seemed to understand that hiding in Porlyusica's hut indefinitely wasn't a viable long-term strategy.
The journey back to Fairy Tail was… subdued. Katsuki walked in a tight knot of embarrassed silence, flanked by a surprisingly solicitous Natsu (who kept trying to offer him half-eaten pieces of jerky, convinced that food solved all emotional crises) and a quietly observant Erza. Lucy and Lisanna walked a little behind, whispering to each other, their expressions a mixture of sympathy, amusement, and dawning excitement for the romantic drama unfolding. Gray, as usual, just grumbled about the heat and inexplicably lost his shirt again somewhere along the path.
When they finally re-entered the Fairy Tail guild hall, it was late afternoon. The atmosphere was still buzzing from the earlier events – Katsuki's epic sparring victory, his "Plus Ultra" declaration, the subsequent confession-and-kissing spectacle at the bar, and then his panicked flight. News of his impromptu therapy session with Porlyusica had, inevitably, already begun to filter back via a very fast-flying Happy, adding another layer of bewildered amusement to the proceedings.
Mirajane was behind the bar, her earlier fluster replaced by a composed, if still slightly rosy-cheeked, serenity. Her sapphire eyes, however, were sharp, missing nothing as she watched Katsuki re-enter, looking like a chastened, exhausted, but somehow more… grounded, version of himself.
Katsuki avoided her gaze, his face still stubbornly flushed. He didn't head for the bar this time. He didn't head for the Request Board. He just… stood there, awkwardly, in the middle of the guild hall, looking like he desperately wanted the floor to open up and swallow him.
The guild members, sensing the delicate, almost fragile truce that seemed to be in effect, wisely kept their distance, though the air was thick with unspoken questions and suppressed giggles.
It was Makarov, ever the wise Guild Master, who broke the tension. He hopped down from his usual perch, a gentle, understanding smile on his face. "Welcome back, Katsuki," he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that was both paternal and accepting. "It seems you've had… quite an eventful day. Perhaps a quiet meal, and then a long, uninterrupted rest in your own bed this time, would be in order?" He shot a pointed, though still fond, look towards Mirajane, who had the grace to blush again, just slightly.
Katsuki just grunted, a sound that was somewhere between agreement and sheer, overwhelming emotional exhaustion. He was still mortified. He was still confused. He still had no idea how to navigate this whole… 'love' thing, or Mirajane's terrifyingly direct approach to it.
But as he looked around the guild hall, at the faces of these loud, chaotic, infuriatingly persistent people – at Natsu's idiotic grin, at Erza's steady gaze, at Lucy and Lisanna's sympathetic smiles, even at Makarov's gentle understanding, and yes, at Mirajane's warm, knowing, and still slightly possessive look from behind the bar – a tiny, almost imperceptible shift occurred within him.
He was still a long way from understanding 'nakama.' He was still the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. But maybe, just maybe, being part of this insane, explosive, emotionally overwhelming family… wasn't the worst fate in the multiverse. Especially if it meant he didn't have to figure out this whole 'doki-doki' bullshit entirely on his own. He still wanted to sleep for a week, though. And he was definitely going to get Porlyusica those damn seedlings.
The combination of extreme physical exertion, emotional overload, romantic bewilderment, and a surprisingly therapeutic (if gruff) consultation with Porlyusica finally did what no monster or sparring partner had managed to do: it utterly and completely poleaxed Katsuki Bakugo.
After Makarov's gentle suggestion of a quiet meal and a long rest, Katsuki had managed a grunted affirmative, wolfed down a plate of food Mirajane had quietly prepared for him (pointedly avoiding her gaze the entire time, though he was acutely aware of her every movement), and then, with the weary determination of a soldier retreating from a battle he hadn't quite understood but had somehow survived, he had trudged back to his apartment.
This time, Mirajane, with a soft, knowing smile that held a universe of unspoken understanding (and perhaps a touch of self-preservation, not wanting to trigger another fainting spell), had simply handed him his key without a word. He'd snatched it, muttered something incoherent that might have been a "thanks" or a curse, and practically fled the guild hall.
He reached his small, spartan apartment by the river, the silence a blessed relief. He didn't bother with changing, didn't bother with unpacking the few meager possessions he owned. He just kicked off his boots, stumbled towards the bed, and collapsed onto it face-first, succumbing to a level of exhaustion so profound it was almost a physical entity.
He slept. And he slept. Not the fitful, dream-haunted sleep of previous nights, but a deep, heavy, almost comatose slumber. He slept through the rest of the afternoon, through the entire night, and well into the next day. His body, finally given the chance to truly recover without interruption, without the constant stimulus of battle or emotional upheaval, was doing exactly what it needed to do. He was healing, not just physically, but on some deeper, almost cellular level.
What Katsuki didn't know, in the depths of his profound, oblivious slumber, was that in his earlier state of "Fierce x Shy Mode" overload, amidst the desperate need to escape the guild hall and the mortifying aftermath of the steak-sharing/kissing/confession incident, he had completely forgotten one crucial, mundane detail: to lock his apartment door. He'd stumbled in, collapsed, and the door had remained slightly ajar, an unspoken invitation in the quiet riverside building.
As night fell over Magnolia on that second day of Katsuki's epic slumber, Mirajane Strauss found herself with a familiar, restless energy. The guild hall had been… subdued without Katsuki's explosive presence. Oh, Natsu and Gray had still brawled, Cana had still drunk her weight in ale, but there was an undeniable spark missing, a certain volatile, unpredictable thrill that only their newest, most bewildering member seemed to provide.
She had, of course, kept a discreet, distant watch on his apartment throughout the previous day and into the current one, using subtle inquiries with his landlady and the occasional, almost invisible flicker of her own Take Over magic to sense for any… untoward developments. He was sleeping. Deeply. Which was good. He needed it.
But as the evening wore on, and the guild began to empty, a different kind of thought began to nudge at Mirajane. He'd been alone for a long time. He'd been through an incredible ordeal. And he was still, despite his grudging acceptance of the guild mark, a very lost, very lonely young man, whether he'd admit it or not.
And his door, as her discreet reconnaissance had revealed earlier that day when she'd "coincidentally" been in the neighborhood checking on a supply order, was unlocked. Almost invitingly so.
A slow, thoughtful smile touched Mirajane's lips. It wasn't her usual mischievous, teasing smile. This one was softer, more contemplative, tinged with a genuine, undeniable warmth.
She finished her closing duties at the guild, her movements unhurried, her mind made up. She wouldn't disturb him, not really. She wouldn't wake him. But… she also couldn't quite shake the image of him, vulnerable and alone in that small, impersonal room, after everything that had happened.
With a quiet resolve that was all her own, Mirajane Strauss, under the soft glow of the Magnolia moon, made her way towards the riverside apartments. She let herself into Katsuki's unlocked room with the silence and grace of a phantom, her footsteps barely disturbing the dust motes dancing in the moonlight that filtered through his small window.
He was there, sprawled on the bed, deeply, profoundly asleep, one arm thrown over his head, his breathing slow and even. He looked… peaceful. Almost innocent, a stark contrast to the waking inferno she knew him to be. The faint frown line between his brows was still there, a permanent fixture, but the tension had eased from his face.
Mirajane just stood there for a long moment, watching him, a complex array of emotions swirling within her – tenderness, protectiveness, a touch of that possessive warmth from the day before, and a deep, almost maternal (or perhaps, again, something more akin to a fiercely devoted older sister, or… something else entirely) desire to simply… be near him. To ensure he wasn't truly alone, even in his sleep.
She didn't intend to stay the whole night. Just for a little while. To make sure he was comfortable. To perhaps… neaten the blanket that had slipped half off him. To maybe… just maybe… brush that errant lock of ash-blond hair from his forehead again, because the sight of it, so stubbornly defiant even in sleep, made her heart do that strange, warm, achy thing it had started doing whenever she thought too much about Katsuki Bakugo.
Yes, Mirajane Strauss, drawn by an undeniable, irresistible pull, had dragged herself into the sleeping Dynamight's lair. Not for mischief this time. Not for teasing. But for something quieter, deeper, and infinitely more complicated. And Katsuki, lost in the deepest sleep he'd had since arriving in Fiore, remained blissfully, dangerously, unaware.