The air in the small kitchen still hummed with the ghosts of embarrassment, but Makarov's presence, surprisingly, had managed to impose a thin veneer of… business.
Mirajane, having fetched a mop and quickly, silently, dealt with the spilled water, now busied herself preparing tea, her movements still a little jerky but focused. She kept her back mostly to the two males.
Makarov led Katsuki out of the kitchen and into the main hall, settling himself on a stool at the long bar, which barely brought his head above the countertop. Katsuki remained standing, arms crossed, radiating impatience and barely suppressed fury.
"So," Makarov began, his earlier amusement now carefully banked, replaced by a more serious, appraising look. "Mirajane mentioned you're not from around here. 'Another world,' she said. Care to elaborate, young Katsuki?"
Katsuki scowled at the use of his first name from the old man, but he'd already told Mirajane to use it. No point being a hypocrite about it now.
He took a breath. He hated explaining himself. Hated showing vulnerability. But this old man held the keys to his immediate survival in this backward world.
"Yeah, well, 'Mirajane' got it right," Katsuki grumbled, his gaze sweeping the empty guild hall. "I got zapped here yesterday. Some kind of bright light. One minute I'm home, next I'm on some plateau with a newspaper talking about kings and empires and magic."
He recounted the basics, his voice clipped, devoid of emotion. Graduation from UA High, the top hero school in his world. His Quirk, Explosion. The planned start of his own Hero Agency. He didn't embellish, didn't complain. He stated facts.
He left out the part about his friends, the ache of their sudden absence. That was no one's damn business.
"My world runs on science, on technology," Katsuki continued. "We have 'Quirks' – special abilities people are born with. Some are powerful, some are useless. Being a Pro Hero, using your Quirk to fight villains and save people, that's a profession. The top profession."
Makarov listened patiently, stroking his mustache, his dark eyes never leaving Katsuki's face. He didn't interrupt, didn't question the absurdity of it all. He'd lived a long life; he'd seen stranger things than tales of other worlds. Or at least, things equally hard to believe.
"So you were a… 'Pro Hero' in training?" Makarov asked when Katsuki paused.
"Damn right I was," Katsuki snapped. "Was supposed to be official today. Number one, eventually." The bitterness was evident in his tone.
"And now you find yourself here," Makarov stated, his gaze softening slightly. "Penniless, homeless, with no understanding of our world, our magic, our customs."
"Got no damn idea where else to turn," Katsuki admitted, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. He hated admitting any kind of weakness or need. "That innkeeper, Bob, said guilds offer work. Said this place, Fairy Tail, was the 'strongest'. I need work. I need to figure this place out. And," his voice hardened, "I need to find a way back, if that's even possible."
He didn't mention the 'accidental' kiss, or the mortifying fall in the kitchen. He figured the old man had seen enough.
Makarov was silent for a long moment, his ancient eyes thoughtful. He looked at this boy – young, fierce, clearly powerful in his own right, ripped from his own reality and thrust into theirs. He saw the anger, the pride, the raw, untamed potential.
He also saw the desperation, however well Katsuki tried to hide it beneath layers of aggression.
Fairy Tail had always been a haven for misfits, for those who didn't quite belong anywhere else. Maybe this explosive young man from another world was no different, despite his prickly exterior.
"The life of a mage in Fairy Tail is not an easy one, Katsuki," Makarov said finally, his voice serious. "It's filled with danger, with uncertainty. We protect our own, yes, but we also face powerful enemies. Dark Guilds. Magical beasts. Sometimes, things far worse."
He paused, his gaze flicking towards the entrance of the guild hall, as if expecting the usual morning chaos to erupt at any moment.
"We've seen our share of disasters here," Makarov continued, his voice taking on a graver tone. "Times when the fate of our friends, our guild, even our entire kingdom, hung in the balance."
Katsuki scoffed. "Disasters? Try a full-scale war against an army of super-powered lunatics led by a maniac who can steal and grant powers, someone who plunged the whole damn country into chaos. Try having your city leveled, your friends nearly killed, fighting for your goddamn life against villains who could wipe this whole continent off your shitty map."
He was referencing the Paranormal Liberation War, the final, brutal battles against All For One and Tomura Shigaraki. The memories were still raw, still burned brightly in his mind – the fear, the pain, the sheer, overwhelming scale of destruction. Compared to that, whatever petty squabbles these mages got into probably seemed like a damn schoolyard scuffle.
Makarov blinked, taken aback by the sudden, visceral intensity of Katsuki's words, the raw trauma that bled through his anger. This boy hadn't just faced danger; he'd waded through hell.
"I see," Makarov said quietly, a new level of understanding, and perhaps respect, dawning in his eyes. "You are no stranger to hardship, then."
Katsuki just grunted, looking away, annoyed at himself for letting that much show.
Makarov made his decision.
"Mirajane, my dear!" he called out, his voice regaining some of its earlier cheer.
Mirajane emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray with a steaming teapot and three cups. She still looked a little flustered but managed a small, polite smile. She placed the tray on the bar.
"The stamp, if you please," Makarov said, his eyes twinkling again, but this time with a different light.
Mirajane's eyes widened slightly. She looked from the Master to Katsuki, a flicker of surprise in her expression. So soon?
Without a word, she nodded and went back into a small office area behind the bar. She returned a moment later with a small, lacquered wooden box. Inside, nestled on velvet, were several stamp instruments, each bearing the Fairy Tail emblem, and small pots of different colored magical ink.
"A Fairy Tail mark is a symbol of family, Katsuki," Makarov said, his voice warm. "It means you are one of us. We look out for our own. We share in each other's joys and sorrows. And we fight for what we believe in, together. Are you prepared for that?"
Katsuki met the old man's gaze, his own red eyes narrowed but resolute. Family. Together. It sounded like the kind of sentimental bullshit he usually hated. But right now… right now, it meant survival. It meant a chance.
And maybe, just maybe, that part about fighting for what they believed in… that resonated.
"Just give me the damn stamp," Katsuki said, his voice rough.
Makarov chuckled. "Alright, alright. Impatient one, aren't you? Color? And where do you want it?"
Katsuki didn't hesitate.
"Orange," he stated. The color of his explosions, of his hero costume. A piece of his old world, his old self, carried into this new one.
He unbuttoned the top few buttons of his UA uniform shirt and pulled the fabric aside, exposing the upper part of his left chest.
There, stark against his skin, were the jagged, puckered scars he'd received during the war against Shigaraki. The ones from when Edgeshot had literally stitched him back together, sacrificing himself to bring Katsuki back from the brink of death.
They were a permanent reminder of his own mortality, of the price of battle, and of the sacrifices made.
"Here," Katsuki said, his voice flat, tapping the scarred area. "Left chest."
Mirajane, who had approached with the chosen orange ink and the stamp, drew in a sharp, quiet breath as she saw the brutal scarring. Her eyes, already wide, softened with an unexpected surge of something akin to empathy. Those were not the marks of a reckless brawler; they were the marks of a survivor, of someone who had faced true, life-threatening horror. Her own past pain, the loss of Lisanna, echoed faintly in response.
Makarov looked at the scars, then at Katsuki's defiant face. The boy wore his wounds, both visible and invisible, like armor.
Without another word, Mirajane carefully inked the stamp. Her hand trembled slightly as she pressed the cool metal emblem of Fairy Tail onto Katsuki's skin, directly over the testament to his near death and rebirth.
A faint, warm orange light glowed for a moment, and then it was done.
The Fairy Tail mark, a stylized fairy with a flowing tail, now blazed in vibrant orange on his left chest, a stark, almost defiant splash of color against the grim landscape of his scars.
"Welcome to Fairy Tail, Katsuki Bakugou," Makarov said, his voice quiet but firm.
Katsuki looked down at the mark. It felt… strange. A brand. A claim.
But also… a beginning.
A very strange, very fucked-up new beginning.
He refastened his shirt, the new insignia hidden beneath the dark fabric.
"Right," Katsuki said, rolling his shoulders as if settling a new weight. "So. When do I get to blow something up and get paid for it?"
Makarov roared with laughter, a booming, infectious sound that filled the empty hall. Mirajane even managed a small, genuine smile.
The tension, finally, truly, had broken.
Katsuki Bakugou was now, officially, a member of Fairy Tail.
The guild would never be the same.
And neither, perhaps, would he.
———
With Makarov retreating to whatever hole he called an office ("Paperwork, my boy, the bane of every Guild Master!" he'd boomed before disappearing), an awkward quiet initially settled back over the main hall.
It was just Katsuki and… Mirajane.
Mira.
She'd insisted on it, a soft blush still dusting her cheeks when she corrected him after he'd gruffly called her "Strauss" while asking where the damn cleaning supplies were kept.
"Just Mira, please, Katsuki-san."
He'd just grunted, dropping the "-san." If she was going with first names, so was he. Fair was fair.
He found himself, surprisingly, helping her.
Not because he was feeling charitable. Not because he suddenly developed a fondness for domestic chores.
But because standing around like a useless lump while she prepped the guild hall for its daily invasion of magic-wielding morons felt… unproductive. And he hated being unproductive.
Besides, it gave him a chance to observe. To gather more information.
He grabbed a stack of heavy wooden chairs from a corner where they'd been piled haphazardly, likely after last night's revelries, and began arranging them around the empty tables with aggressive efficiency. Each chair slammed into place with a decisive thud.
Mira watched him for a moment, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips. He was like a barely contained explosion, even when doing something as mundane as setting up chairs.
"Thank you, Katsuki," she said, her voice soft as she wiped down the long expanse of the bar. "Most of the others just leave the mess for me or Master to deal with in the mornings."
"Hmph. Bunch of lazy bastards," Katsuki muttered, grabbing another chair. "Someone's gotta do it if you want this pigsty to function."
And if I'm gonna be stuck here, it better not be a complete shithole.
As they worked, a slightly more comfortable rhythm established itself between them, the earlier kitchen disaster receding into a mortifying but thankfully past event. He asked questions. Sharp, direct, demanding.
"This Request Board," he said, nodding towards the large corkboard plastered with parchments of varying sizes and colors. "How does it work? Just grab a paper and go kill something?"
Mira chuckled, a light, airy sound. "Almost. Those are job requests from clients. They detail the task, the location, and the reward in Jewels."
Jewels. Right. Need a lot of those.
"The requests are ranked by difficulty," Mira explained, moving closer to the board, Katsuki following, his gaze scanning the fluttering papers. "D-Class are the simplest – usually fetching items, minor pest control, things like that. C-Class and B-Class are more involved, often requiring specific magic skills or dealing with minor magical beasts or troublesome bandits."
She pointed to a section with fewer, more official-looking documents. "A-Class requests are significantly more dangerous. They involve powerful monsters, organized criminal groups, or complex magical problems. And then…"
Her finger traced towards a very small, almost hidden section at the very top of the board, cordoned off by a velvet rope.
"S-Class. Those are jobs of extreme difficulty and danger, often with national or even international implications. Only S-Class Mages, recognized for their exceptional power and skill, are permitted to take them. Master Makarov, Erza, Laxus… and Gildarts, when he's actually here, are our current S-Class mages."
Erza. Laxus. Gildarts. More names. Potential top dogs to measure myself against.
"And the pay?" Katsuki demanded, cutting to the chase. "How much do these 'Jewels' actually get you?"
Mira paused, considering how to explain it. "Well, prices here in Magnolia are… fairly standard for a prosperous city in Fiore. For perspective… say, a decent small apartment, maybe a one-room with a small kitchen and bath – what you might call a 1LDK back in your world – would probably cost around 70,000 to 80,000 Jewels a month to rent."
Katsuki whistled internally. Eighty thousand? That's like 800,000 Yen if we're talking old-world numbers. Rent here ain't cheap. That innkeeper Bob must be running a charity or his place is a real dive.
"Bob Kettler's inn was only five Jewels for a night, after his 'discount'," Katsuki stated, a skeptical edge to his voice.
Mira smiled. "Ah, The Hungry Huntsman. Bob's a good man. His inn is… rustic. Very basic. It's clean, but it's on the outskirts, and he doesn't offer many amenities. He caters more to transient workers or those on a very tight budget. And he probably gave you an exceptionally good rate, seeing your situation. Normally, even his rooms would be at least 500 to 1000 Jewels a night."
So, five Jewels was basically free. Figures.
"A D-Rank job," Mira continued, tapping a low-value request for finding a lost pet cat (reward: 2,000 Jewels), "might cover your food for a few days if you're careful. A C-Rank, maybe 10,000 to 50,000 Jewels, could sort you out for a week or two, maybe cover basic supplies."
"B-Ranks can go from 60,000 up to around 200,000 Jewels. A-Ranks… those start around 400,000 Jewels and can easily go into the millions, depending on the severity and client."
Katsuki's eyes lit up. Millions.
"And S-Class?"
Mira's expression became more serious. "S-Class rewards are often astronomical. Tens of millions. Sometimes even more, along with significant renown. But the risks… the risks are equally high."
Tens of millions of Jewels. That's like hundreds of millions of Yen. Now we're talking.
This was concrete. This was a system he could understand. Work. Risk. Reward.
He could climb this ladder. He could earn. He could build.
Mira watched him, saw the predatory gleam in his red eyes as he processed the numbers, the possibilities. There was a raw ambition there that was almost frightening, yet… undeniably captivating.
Her heart did a strange little flutter.
Oh, Lisanna… if you could see me now.
The thought of her lost sister brought the familiar pang of grief, but today, for the first time in a long, long time, it was accompanied by a different, conflicting emotion.
A warmth. A stirring.
This Katsuki… he was a force of nature. Rude, aggressive, completely lacking in social graces.
And yet…
When he'd burst into the kitchen, thinking she was seriously hurt…
When he'd looked so utterly horrified and embarrassed after their… collision…
When he'd awkwardly offered his first name…
He's not just an arrogant brute. There's something else there.
And the way he looked at her sometimes, when he thought she wasn't noticing, with an intensity that made her skin prickle…
Stop it, Mirajane! her rational mind scolded. He's a newcomer. A troubled boy from another world. You just met him. And that… that kiss was an accident! A mortifying, clumsy accident!
But another part of her, a deeper, wilder part, the part she had tried so hard to bury after Lisanna's 'death', whispered otherwise.
Accident or not… it happened. And he's… interesting. Very interesting. He makes things feel… alive again. Even the air crackles around him.
This was Demon Mirajane stirring. The she-devil who had once reveled in fights, who had a fierce temper and an even fiercer loyalty, who took what she wanted and didn't apologize for it.
The personality she'd locked away, believing it had somehow contributed to the tragedy that shattered her family.
But now… looking at Katsuki, listening to his gruff voice asking about taking down powerful monsters for huge rewards, a reckless, thrilling thought sparked within her.
Maybe… maybe it's time she came out to play again? Just a little? He certainly wouldn't be scared off by a bit of demonic fire. He'd probably enjoy the challenge.
The thought sent a shiver down her spine, half fear, half exhilaration.
She found herself smiling, a genuine, almost mischievous smile that hadn't reached her eyes in years.
Katsuki, who had turned back to the request board, his mind already calculating potential earnings and assessing threats, caught the shift in her expression out of the corner of his eye.
He glanced at her.
Her blue eyes, usually so clouded with gentle sadness, now held a spark. A dangerous, intriguing spark.
What's with her now? One minute she's blushing like a virgin at a strip club, the next she looks like she's about to bite someone's head off. And actually enjoy it.
This world, and its inhabitants, were getting weirder by the minute.
And somehow, that just made it all the more… tolerable.
For now.
———
The relative peace of the morning didn't last.
As Mira had predicted, the members of Fairy Tail began to trickle in, slowly at first, then in a more boisterous, chaotic stream.
The heavy oak doors of the guild hall creaked open more frequently, admitting a motley assortment of individuals, each more eccentric than the last.
Katsuki, having finished his self-appointed task of chair arrangement, had claimed a stool at the far end of the bar, nursing the glass of water Mira had finally remembered to give him. It gave him a good vantage point to observe the incoming circus.
Mira, back in her element behind the polished bartop, wiping down glasses with a practiced hand, acted as a surprisingly calm commentator.
"That's Cana Alberona," Mira said quietly, nodding towards a tall, buxom young woman with long, flowing brown hair who strode in with a confident swagger, already eyeing the massive barrels of booze behind the bar. She wore a skimpy bikini top and low-slung pants, and carried a deck of cards. "She has a fondness for alcohol… a very strong fondness. And she uses Card Magic."
Cana spotted Mira and Katsuki, gave a casual wave and a knowing smirk towards Mira that made her blush faintly, then immediately made a beeline for a particularly large keg, grabbing a tankard on the way.
Drinks like a damn fish, dressed like she's going to the beach. Great. Katsuki thought, unimpressed.
Next, a young man with spiky black hair, stripped down to his boxers despite the morning chill, swaggered in, hands shoved in his… well, his non-existent pockets.
"Gray Fullbuster," Mira sighed, a hint of fond exasperation in her voice. "He's an Ice-Make Mage. And he has a… habit of unconsciously removing his clothes."
Gray, oblivious, started arguing with Cana about who got to the best ale first.
An ice user who can't keep his damn pants on. Fantastic. Is everyone in this guild a damn exhibitionist or an alcoholic?
Then, the doors burst open with more force, and a pink-haired young man wearing a distinctive white, scale-patterned scarf and an open vest bounded in, practically vibrating with energy. A small, blue, winged cat hovered excitedly beside him.
"Natsu Dragneel!" the pink-haired one yelled, his voice echoing through the hall. "And this is Happy! Anyone up for a fight? I'm all fired up!"
"Aye!" the blue cat chirped enthusiastically.
"Ah, Natsu," Mira said, her smile becoming a little more strained. "He's a Fire Dragon Slayer. Very powerful. Very destructive. And usually the cause of most of the… excitement around here."
Natsu's eyes, sharp and feral, immediately landed on Katsuki. A new face. A potential challenge.
"Hey! You!" Natsu yelled, pointing aggressively at Katsuki. "You look strong! Fight me!"
Before Katsuki could even open his mouth to deliver a scathing retort, Gray, still in his boxers, had already started yelling at Natsu.
"Shut up, Flame Brain! Can't you see some of us are trying to have a peaceful morning?"
"What'd you say, Ice Princess?!" Natsu roared back, forgetting Katsuki for the moment as he whirled on his rival. "Wanna go, Droopy Eyes?!"
"Anytime, Cinder-Dick!"
Within seconds, the two were locked in a furious, if somewhat comical, brawl in the middle of the guild hall. Ice and fire erupted, narrowly missing tables and the few other members who were trying to ignore them.
Katsuki watched, a muscle twitching in his jaw.
Idiots. They're fighting like a bunch of goddamn children. Though… that fire punch wasn't half bad. And the ice guy's quick.
Mira just sighed and started polishing a glass with more vigor. "This is about average for a Tuesday morning."
A few more members drifted in.
A burly man with an impressive mustache and a penchant for "Manly!" exclamations – Elfman Strauss, Mira's younger brother, apparently. He used Take Over magic, transforming parts of his body into beastly forms. He seemed… loud. And obsessed with masculinity.
A quiet, bespectacled young woman with blue hair tied in a bun, Levy McGarden, who was already engrossed in a thick book, seemingly oblivious to the escalating brawl nearby. She used Solid Script magic, making words tangible. With her were two larger, rougher-looking guys, Jet and Droy, who seemed to act as her devoted, if somewhat goofy, bodyguards.
A young woman with bright green hair, Bisca Mulan, dressed in a cowgirl-like outfit, expertly twirling a pair of magic rifles. She greeted Mira cheerfully.
And a dark-haired young man with a serious expression, Alzack Connell, who also favored gun magic and seemed to hover awkwardly near Bisca, blushing whenever she glanced his way.
Gun magic users. At least that's somewhat practical. But they look like they're about to star in some shitty Western romance movie. Katsuki observed, his lip curling.
More faces, more strange magic, more noise.
The guild hall was slowly filling up, the initial quiet replaced by a rising cacophony of shouts, laughter, and the occasional magical explosion from the ongoing Natsu-Gray skirmish.
It was chaos.
It was unprofessional.
It was… almost invigorating, in a fucked-up way.
This wasn't the disciplined, structured environment of UA. This wasn't the strategic, calculated world of Pro Heroes he was used to.
This was Fairy Tail.
A den of loud, brawling, half-dressed, hard-drinking, eccentrically-powered morons.
And Katsuki was now, somehow, one of them.
He wasn't sure whether to start breaking things himself or just demand the strongest person in the room fight him immediately.
Probably both.
His fingers twitched, itching to let off a few explosions.
This was going to be a very, very long day.
And a very, very loud one.
He almost, almost, cracked a smile.
———
The brawl between Natsu and Gray had escalated, predictably, drawing in a few other willing participants. Shouts, explosions of fire and ice, and the occasional flying piece of furniture became the background noise of the Fairy Tail guild hall.
Katsuki watched it all with a mixture of disdain and a grudging, deeply buried sense of… something almost like familiarity. It reminded him of the more chaotic training sessions at UA, if UA had been run by hyperactive toddlers with access to high-grade explosives.
Mira, however, seemed unfazed by the escalating chaos. She finished polishing the last of the glasses, her expression serene, though a tiny sigh escaped her lips as a stray chair leg whizzed past her head, narrowly missing a shelf of expensive liquor.
She then turned to Katsuki, who was still perched at the end of the bar, radiating a dangerous aura of someone about to join the fray just to show them how a real fight was done.
"Katsuki," Mira said, her voice cutting through the din with surprising clarity, though it was still soft. "Can you be a dear, and come with me to buy some guild supplies?"
Katsuki blinked, momentarily thrown. From observing near-combat to… a shopping trip?
"Supplies?" he grunted. "What kind of supplies? More booze for that card-playing lush?" He jerked his chin towards Cana, who was now engaged in a drinking contest with a surprisingly resilient Elfman.
Mira smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made her blue eyes sparkle. And for a moment, the ever-present shadow of grief seemed to lift just a fraction.
"Among other things," she admitted. "We're low on certain… alchemical ingredients for some of the potions I make for the infirmary. And we always need more bandages, given… well," she gestured vaguely at the ongoing brawl, where Natsu was now attempting to eat Gray's ice. "This."
It was, Katsuki had to admit, a reasonable request. Someone had to patch up these idiots after they were done trying to kill each other.
But her tone… "be a dear"… it was a little too sweet. And the way she was looking at him, a hopeful, almost eager light in her eyes…
Is she… hitting on me? After this morning's disaster in the kitchen? This woman is insane.
He didn't realize that for Mira, this was a carefully orchestrated move. She needed supplies, yes. But she also wanted to spend time with him. Away from the chaos of the guild. Away from prying eyes.
She wanted to get to know this explosive, intriguing boy from another world. And maybe, just maybe, let him get to know her a little too. The real her, or at least, the her she was starting to rediscover.
"Fine," Katsuki grumbled, pushing himself off the stool. "Got nothing better to do than watch these morons slap each other around. Lead the way."
He was broke. He was bored. And a walk through town might give him a better lay of the land. Practical. That's all it was.
Mira's smile widened. "Wonderful! Let me just grab my purse."
They left the guild hall, the sounds of shouting and magical explosions fading behind them. Magnolia's streets, bustling with midday activity, felt almost peaceful by comparison.
Mira led him through the winding streets, pointing out various shops and landmarks. She didn't explicitly call it a date. She was too subtle for that, at least for now. But her steps were lighter, her conversation more animated than he'd seen it. She asked him questions about his world, careful not to pry too deeply into painful areas, but genuinely curious about the things he described – the towering buildings, the 'cars', the 'Pro Heroes'.
Katsuki, in turn, found himself answering, his responses still gruff and clipped, but less overtly hostile. He even asked a few questions of his own about Magnolia, about Fiore, about the different types of magic he was still trying to wrap his head around.
They visited a dusty apothecary shop filled with strange herbs and bubbling concoctions, where Mira haggled expertly for her alchemical supplies. Then to a general store for bandages and other necessities. The shopkeepers all seemed to know Mira, greeting her with warmth and respect. Katsuki just loitered in the background, looking intimidating and occasionally grunting when directly addressed.
Mira insisted on treating him to lunch at a small, clean café tucked away on a side street. It served simple, hearty food – meat pies, stews, fresh bread. Katsuki, who hadn't eaten since the previous night's inn meal (which felt like a lifetime ago), devoured his portion with his usual focused intensity. He didn't thank her outright, but Mira saw the slight lessening of tension in his shoulders as he ate, and she counted it as a small victory.
He was grateful, though. He wouldn't admit it, not in a million years, but he was. Food was food. And not having to wash dishes for it was a definite improvement.
The guild supplies, too bulky to carry, were arranged to be delivered the next morning.
As they walked back towards Fairy Tail in the late afternoon sun, a comfortable silence settled between them, punctuated by Mira's occasional soft comments about the passing scenery or a friendly greeting to a townsfolk.
She was walking a little closer to him now than she had on the way out. Her shoulder brushed his arm once or twice, seemingly by accident.
Each time, Katsuki felt a strange jolt, an unfamiliar warmth that had nothing to do with his Quirk. He'd tense up, a faint flush rising on his own neck, though he'd quickly try to cover it with a scowl or a pointed observation about how stupid some nearby building looked.
He was completely oblivious to the sensual, almost predatory nature that was beginning to reawaken within Mira. He saw the gentle smiles, the soft voice, the occasional blush (which he still attributed to a possible fever or just general weirdness). He had no idea that beneath that demure surface, Demon Mirajane was purring with satisfaction, already considering him hers.
He's strong, Demon Mirajane thought, her internal voice a sultry, confident whisper that the current Mira was only just beginning to acknowledge. He's fiery. He doesn't treat me like I'm made of glass. And he looks so… adorably flustered when I get close. Oh yes, he'll do nicely. He just needs a little… encouragement.
The current Mira, the one walking beside Katsuki, just smiled sweetly. "It was nice getting out of the guild for a bit, wasn't it, Katsuki? It can get so overwhelming in there sometimes."
"Hmph. It's a damn madhouse," Katsuki agreed, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. But he didn't sound entirely displeased.
"But it's our madhouse," Mira said, her voice soft, a hint of affection in it. "Our family."
Katsuki didn't respond to that. Family was still a complicated concept for him right now.
As they neared Fairy Tail, the familiar sounds of chaos growing louder, Mira paused.
"Katsuki," she said, turning to him, her blue eyes sincere. "Thank you for coming with me today. It was… nice. Having your company."
His cheeks felt warm again. He scowled. "Whatever. Had nothing else to do."
But as he looked at her, at the genuine warmth in her smile, the way the late afternoon sun caught the silver of her hair… he felt a strange, unfamiliar tug in his chest.
It wasn't unpleasant. Just… confusing.
This Mira. She was an enigma. Sad one moment, blushing the next, then surprisingly capable and now… looking at him like that.
He had no idea what he was getting himself into.
Not a clue.