Chapter 35: Thunder, Fire, and Paperwork
The mood in the temporary guild hall, a large, rented warehouse filled with mismatched furniture, was one of giddy relief. Makarov had just slammed the official parchment from the Magic Council onto the bar. "SUSPENSION LIFTED, EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY!" he bellowed, and the place erupted. The sound of clinking mugs, cheers, and the collective rustle of wizards eyeing the freshly re-hung (if scorched) request board was the sweetest music in Fiore.
"Finally! My savings were down to my last barrel of fish!" Macao yelled.
"I call dibs on the pest extermination in Oak Town!" Wakaba hollered.
The celebration was a beautiful, chaotic bubble of normalcy. And like all bubbles, it was destined to be popped.
The main doors didn't open. They were blasted inward with a deafening CRACK of splitting wood and ozone. A figure stood framed in the doorway, backlit by the afternoon sun, his long coat trailing, golden hair spiked with electricity. Laxus Dreyar.
The celebratory noise died instantly, replaced by a thick, uncomfortable silence. He strode in, the air crackling around him, his gaze sweeping the room with palpable disdain. It landed on the bandaged members of Shadow Gear, who were sharing a quiet drink in the corner.
"Pathetic," Laxus sneered, his voice a low rumble. "Letting yourselves get strung up like fresh meat. Is this the 'strength' Fairy Tail is celebrating? A team of losers who can't even protect themselves?"
Levy flinched, gripping her mug. Jet and Droy glared but said nothing, the memory of the iron posts still raw.
His eyes then found Lucy, who was helping Mirajane behind the bar. "And the new girl. The little princess who started a war because Daddy didn't get his way. You don't belong here with real wizards. You're a liability wrapped in a skirt."
Lucy's face flushed with a mix of anger and shame. Before she could retort, Laxus's attention had already moved on, landing like a lightning bolt on the most obvious target. He stalked over to where Erza sat, methodically polishing a piece of her armor, her expression a calm lake over a volcano.
He leaned down, putting his face inches from hers, his voice a taunt. "And the great Erza Scarlet. The guild's mighty sword. I heard you almost got turned into a stain by a walking scrap pile. What's the matter? Lost your edge babysitting these weaklings?"
Erza didn't look up from her polishing. "My edge is fine, Laxus. It is my patience that has grown thin. Step back."
"Or what?" Laxus breathed, a spark jumping from his finger to her pauldron with a sharp zap. "You'll scold me? When I'm Master of this guild, the first thing I'll do is purge the dead weight. Starting with the has-beens and the tagalongs. And there's nothing any of you can do to stop it."
It was at that moment the side door to the warehouse, the one that led to the back alley, swung open. A figure stepped through, silhouetted against the dusty light. He was covered in forest grime, his scarf was torn, and he moved with a slow, deliberate tiredness that spoke of deep exhaustion, but his green eyes were alert, burning with a cold fire.
All heads turned. Happy shot into the air. "NATSU!"
Natsu Dragneel ignored the greeting. His gaze was locked on Laxus, who was still leaning over Erza. He walked forward, the crowd parting for him. The silence was now charged, electric.
"Shut up, Laxus."
The words were flat, devoid of Natsu's usual loud bravado. They hung in the air, a direct, quiet challenge.
Laxus straightened up, a slow, incredulous smirk spreading across his face. He turned fully to face Natsu. "Well, look who crawled out of the woods. The guild's pet dragon. Heard you had a scuffle with some iron. Did it knock the last of your brains loose? You talking to me like that?"
Natsu stopped a few feet away. "I said, shut up. We just finished a war. We don't need your thunderstorm in here."
"Oho," Laxus chuckled, a sound with no warmth. "The little salamander grew a spine. Just because you can throw a punch at the red head over there doesn't mean you can challenge me, boy." He took a step forward, invading Natsu's space. "I am the strongest wizard in all of Fairy Tail." He punctuated each of the next words by jabbing a hard finger into Natsu's chest. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. "And there's nothing. Any of you. Can. Do. About. It."
Natsu didn't flinch. He didn't swat the hand away. He just looked up at Laxus, his expression eerily calm. "You're not the strongest in the guild, Laxus. And we both know it."
Laxus's smirk faltered, replaced by irritation. "Oh yeah? Who is, then? Mystogan? The ghost who's never here? Gray?" He shot a dismissive glance at the ice mage. "Mirajane, the retired barmaid? The red head?" He jerked a thumb at Erza. "Name them. I'll break them all."
"Gildarts."
The single name, spoken in Natsu's quiet tone, was like a spell of silence more potent than any Makarov could cast.
The smirk vanished from Laxus's face completely. All the arrogant posturing drained away, leaving behind a stark, unwilling recognition. The warehouse was so quiet you could hear the dust settling. Every wizard there, from the newest to the oldest, knew the name. Gildarts Clive. The ace of Fairy Tail. The man who wandered the continent doing S-Class jobs solo. A force of nature compared to which even Laxus's lightning was a spark.
Natsu pressed the advantage, his voice still low but cutting. "Do you really think you're about to challenge Gildarts?"
Laxus's jaw worked. He had no retort. The one pillar of his self-proclaimed superiority he couldn't deny. Finally, he leaned in close again, his voice a venomous whisper meant only for Natsu. "Remember who I am, boy." Then, with a final, contemptuous glare around the room, his body dissolved into a cascade of crackling yellow lightning that zigzagged and vanished out the broken doors, leaving behind the smell of ozone and resentment.
The tension broke. Lucy was the first to move, rushing over to Natsu. "Natsu! Where have you been all this time? We were worried!"
Gray ambled over, arms crossed. "Yeah, flame-brain. You miss all the fun of getting yelled at by a walking storm cloud?"
Erza rose from her seat, her eyes searching his. "You are unhurt?"
Happy crashed into his face, sobbing. "Aye! Don't ever disappear like that again!"
Natsu managed a weak, tired smile, peeling Happy off. "I'm fine. Just… had to think. Fighting Gajeel… it made me remember something about Igneel." It was a lie, a convenient shield to deflect the questions about his absence and his new, unsettling calm. He changed the subject abruptly. "So, we can take jobs again?"
Erza seized the opportunity, sensing his need for normalcy. "Indeed. And it is clear our… combined efforts have been effective. From this point forward, for efficiency and coordination, I propose that Natsu, Gray, Lucy, Happy, and I formalize our partnership. We shall operate as a designated team."
A beat of silence. Then…
"TEAM NATSU!" the entire guild roared in unison, the confrontation with Laxus momentarily forgotten in the face of this new, hilarious inevitability. Glasses were raised.
"May the city watch be ever vigilant!" Macao toasted, laughing.
"Try not to burn down a forest without at least completing the job first!" Wakaba added.
Gray groaned. "Great. Stuck with the two biggest drama queens in Fiore and a flying cat."
Lucy beamed, her earlier hurt forgotten. "A real team!"
Natsu just sighed, the ghost of a real smile touching his lips. It was chaos. But it was his chaos.
***
That night, in his small makeshift office, Makarov stared at the ceiling. The confrontation with Laxus had stirred old, troubled thoughts. Retirement. The guild needed a strong, wise leader. He thought of his S-Class mages. Laxus? Poisoned by arrogance and a lust for power unfit for a Master. Mystogan? A ghost, disconnected from the guild's heart. Erza? A magnificent soldier, but her world was order and battle, not the nuanced diplomacy and fatherly care the role required. Gildarts? Ha! The man was a force of chaotic good who'd lose the guild charter within a week.
"Not one of them," the old man murmured to the empty room. "Not yet."
There was a soft knock. Mirajane entered, her ever-present gentle smile on her face, holding a fresh Communication Lacrima transcript.
"Master? A message just came in from the Hargeon Town Council. Regarding Team Natsu's first official job."
Makarov took the transcript, a feeling of deep, familiar dread settling in his stomach. He read it. His eye twitched. He read it again.
The message detailed the successful subjugation of a rogue earth spirit that had been shaking foundations. It also included, in meticulous and furious detail, the subsequent total structural collapse of Hargeon's old market square district, attributed to "collateral seismic instability triggered by extreme thermal differentials" which any Fairy Tail member could translate as 'Natsu got excited and Erza didn't stop him in time.'
Makarov let the parchment fall from his fingers. It fluttered to the desk like a dying bird.
He looked at the ceiling again, then at the hopeful, smiling face of Mirajane. He thought of Laxus's sneer, of Natsu's new, dangerous calm, of Erza's relentless drive, of Gray's latent power, of the sheer, wonderful, destructive potential of the children he called his own.
A slow, weary, and utterly fond smile spread across his face, reaching his eyes. He began to laugh, a soft, rumbling sound that shook his small frame.
Retirement? Not today. Not tomorrow. Perhaps not ever.
The adventure, it seemed, was far from over. In fact, with Team Natsu now official, it had only just gotten exponentially more expensive.