Chapter 30: Knock, Knock. Who's There? It's a Ghost! Boo
Aoki Tamashi (9 June 2123 - 24 August 2202) was a Japanese philanthropist, civil rights activist, writer, and journalist. He was notably known for his support of Meta Civil Rights movements at the start of the Modern Quirk Era.
Born the only son of the wealthy Aoki family, Tamashi travelled the world at least seventeen times before he turned sixteen, according to the many memoirs he published when he was older. On those travels, Tamashi collected many items, including artworks, original writing, and artifacts from pre-Quirk history and Meta Rights Activists.
-- "About the Exhibit", from the webpage of the Musutafu Pre-Quirk History Museum
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CATNYAP
r u gonna do it?
MINIGHOST
I think I might? But I'm not too sure
CATNYAP
yeah go talk to the girl who kidnapped you and then beat you up for an hour. sure that'll go well
MINIGHOST
Okay, look, she didn't beat me up. Technically. I just got shot at for a bit.
CATNYAP
those bruises say otherwise
MINIGHOST
And those bruises are already gone!
MINIGHOST
But, like, despite the way that she acted, Ellie wasn't really that actively hostile. And she apologized!
MINIGHOST
I haven't had a ghost offer to help me since Amorpho, Hitoshi. I'm learning all this stuff on my own, right now. You've got heroes teaching you to be a hero. Why shouldn't I at least try to hear her out?
CATNYAP
alright. your funeral
MINIGHOST
If I don't reply to you by tomorrow, please call the police.
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"Ah! Hello there, young man. Welcome to Hotel Taiyo. What room are you delivering to today?"
Izuku freezes when the receptionist's eyes meet his. He hadn't been expecting to be, well, noticed this easily. He usually blends in with crowds around him.
Then again, Izuku had tried for a good few minutes to get into the building when the automatic doors wouldn't work on him. And he obviously didn't want to be caught on camera using one of his very well recognizable ghost powers especially in his human form, so he had to eventually wait for a group of American tourists to activate the door for him to slip in.
"Ah, I'm not delivering. Uh—" His mind races through possibilities, before he stutters out, "I'm here to meet, um, meet my aunt."
The woman looks at him, eyes narrowed, but she nods. "Alright. Do you know what room you're looking for?"
Izuku nods, and shows her the piece of paper with Ellie's room number written down on it. The lady nods, before picking up the phone, looking at something on the screen quickly, and dialing a number. He can hear it ring a few minutes on the other end before it finally connects.
"Good evening, Fenton-san. I have a young man here saying that he's your nephew, and here to meet you?" The receptionist pauses, listening to some sort of response. Izuku can't quite make it out.
He didn't even talk to Ellie before—and well, this could've been easier just sneaking in as a ghost, but Izuku was a little paranoid about things. He was just hoping to slip in. What if she doesn't get the memo? What if—
"Yes, yes. Of course. I will send him on up. Have a wonderful evening."
Izuku holds in a sigh of relief as the receptionist hangs up. "Alright, your…" She hesitates, doubtful of the entire story, looking Izuku up and down. "… Your aunt is waiting for you. Go on up."
He nods, muttering a quick thanks before all but bolting to the elevator. She's only on the second floor, so his ride with a random strange-smelling man wasn't all that awful. Izuku gets off his stop, and the man continues on up, to engrossed in his phone.
Izuku hadn't really ever been to a hotel before. Not that his mom didn't try to take him places when he was younger for fun—she and Bakugou's mom would try and take them out when they were really little, before Quirks got between them, on fun trips. Back when his mom wasn't as financially stressed as she is now, back when things seemed to be going right for the Midoriya family. But those were day trips. They never ventured too far from Musutafu, trips that could be completed in a single day instead of multiple. The only time he'd really stepped in a hotel was a school trip when they were still in primary school, and Izuku didn't even spend the night there. They'd gone to that hotel just to use the fancy meeting rooms for something that Izuku can't really remember. Something academia related.
So, this is his first time really in a hotel. He scans the paper again, looking over the chicken-scratch of handwriting that Ellie had given him, before following the numbers along the hallway. It's quiet. Uncomfortably quiet, but it is late. Most people are probably asleep, or winding down for the day, or perhaps out on the town drinking. Whatever adults do in their freetime.
The hallways are long, too. It's a little uncanny. The walls and carpet on the floor are the same color, or within similar shades, and they seem to stretch on into infinity. He can see a window at the end of a hallway, but is it really a window, or just more hallway? There's a haunting air to a hotel, and Izuku isn't quite sure he likes it.
Eventually, he finds room 250B. B, because they're on the left side of the building, or something? Izuku isn't sure. But he knows it's the right room, because before he can lift his hand to awkwardly knock, he hiccups, and a small cloud escapes from him and drifts into the air.
Well. Hopefully I don't die fully.
Izuku knocks.
A beat of silence. And then—
"I'm coming, I'm coming—" There's stumbling on the side of the door, and a lock clicks. And a young woman in her twenties opens the door.
Her skin is dark, but smooth with very little imperfections. Long dark hair is pulled out of her face with a high ponytail, accentuating the shaved undercut underneath. Two blue eyes blink at Izuku. Her face looks familiar, almost like the face of the ghost who'd attacked him the day previous, but there's no way, right?
Izuku quickly stumbles over his words, feeling his face flush bright. "Oh, um, I'm sorry, ma'am, I think, uh, I think I might have gotten the wrong room—"
The woman smiles at him, baring her teeth. They're sharp, just like—huh?
The woman laughs, too. "Midoriya? No, it's me. Sorry." It sounds just like Ellie, but this woman is human, which makes no sense—
Wait.
Izuku blinks. "What?"
"Long story. Come in, yeah?" Ellie motions him into the hotel room, and Izuku suddenly becomes very aware of the situation he's just put himself in. Going to a random young woman's hotel room, late at night, lying and saying she's his aunt. No wonder the receptionist gave him that weird look and called Ellie. Ugh, god, Izuku doesn't really think about this stuff until he's faced with this situation.
"Or, not. But it's not exactly a conversation we wanna have in the hallway, yeah?"
He blinks, snapping himself out of his thoughts. "S-Sorry. Um." He nervously steps into the room.
It's a nice hotel room. One of the largest beds Izuku has ever seen, accented with a shimmer of gold (probably fake) on the headboard. White sheets and the duvet cover are sprawled out chaotically, though. A few empty bottles sit on the nightstand to the left. The one on the right has the hotel phone on it, along with a few crumbled-up snack bags. There's a pile of clothes in one corner of the room, and an open suitcase in the other.
…Why does a ghost need a suitcase?
"You probably have a lot of questions, yeah?" Ellie asks and she jumps up into the air. Gravity lets go of her for a moment, and she floats over to the edge of the bed.
"Y-You could say that."
"Well, for starters, let's get the obvious out of the way." She says. "Yes, it's still me. This is my human form."
Human form? Like—
"My existence is… complicated. I function like a halfa would, except I'm not technically a halfa? To be one, you have to have been born alive to begin with, and I was actually made a clone of the first ever halfa." She explains. Two white rings appear at her midsection and transform her swiftly into the ghost he had been attacked by the day before. "Most ghosts call me a Neverborn, because I was never born. Ghost aren't really creative with names."
Izuku nods, mentally noting that down for later. He takes a second, before speaking up and asking the question he's been dying (not literally) to have an answer for. "Why… Why did you attack me?"
"I was a little hopeful Amorpho would've explained it to you when they were here, but Amorpho's not strong enough to be out of the realms for that long. So, here's the thing about ghosts. Ghosts tend to brawl a lot, to get to know each other, or just to have fun. It's like—uh, I don't know what an equivalent would be. Going out to coffee, or something?" Ellie muses. "Anyway. It's hard to explain. But I attacked you because I wanted to get to know you. You are, after all, the new champion, and I kinda didn't even think in that moment."
That's strange. Wait. "Champion?"
Ellie nods. "Yeah, did—okay, so what did Amorpho explain to you, exactly?"
Not a lot. They were limited on time. There's a little twinge in his core, thinking about his first ghostly mentor, and wondering what they were up to now, but he pushes it aside. "A lot of training on my powers, so I don't accidentally reveal myself. They also tried to help me transform… mostly by dropping refrigerators on me."
Ellie laughs, as if the peril of having a nearly 300 pound kitchen appliance being dropped on you randomly is the funniest thing in the world. Maybe in hindsight, trying to put Izuku in danger so he had no choice but to transform was the best Amorpho could do with limited time, but still. At least Izuku knew he was pretty good at dodging hits by then.
"Okay, anything else?"
"Some stuff about the Ghost Zone and the Realms. That's kinda it."
"Wow. Amorpho didn't teach you a lot, did they?" Ellie asks, though it doesn't feel like it's a question directed specifically at Izuku. "Wanna fly and chat?"
Izuku hesitates, before nodding. Flying in the sky would be preferrable to sitting in a random stranger's hotel room. He transforms, not as fast as Ellie, and they both fly through the open hotel window and into the night sky.
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"What's the champion?"
Ellie stops. She hadn't expected to have to explainthis to Midoriya. Or, Phantom. Perhaps she should stick with this name in his ghost form. She'd hoped Amorpho did the job. But that's wishful thinking. That trickster probably spent a few days causing some irrelevant chaos and mayhem before actually looking for Midoriya like they'd been asked to. "The Champion of Balance is a being whose existence is necessary for the stability of the timeline and of the entire Infinite Realms."
Phantom stops, too. His already pale face looks like it pales a little more. "Oh."
"No pressure, though! You literally have, like, your whole life and afterlife with the title. However long either of those are." It does sound like a lot—the Champion of Balance. The Chosen One, picked out by the Infinite Realms Herself, to keep not just the Alpha Timeline stable, but every other timeline as well. But in all her time as Clockwork's apprentice, most of the lecture the Ancient had given her— it didn't seem like a lot at all. "Mostly, it's acting as a peacekeeper and a hero. And I think you're already doing a pretty good job at that, Phantom."
The kid's pale face turns a few shades green from the praise. He'd shed the mask shortly after they took to the sky. After all, what's the point in hiding his identity, when every ghost in a twenty mile radius would know who he is, no matter the form he's in? It's a miracle that Danny had kept his identity a secret for so long.
"You're like—you're like a fulcrum. You have a very important role, you help keep the balance of the Living Realms and the Infinite Realms. You're lucky, right now things have been pretty peaceful in the Realms with the council and stuff, so you probably don't have to worry about that part until, I dunno, a war breaks out or something."
"W-War?!" Midoriya's voice cracks, and his blazing cyan eyes flicker with anxiety.
She nervously waves her hands in the air. "Hey! No worries, Phantom. You're not alone as the Champion. There's a whole lot of ghosts who would readily support you with anything. You might be what everything kinda balances on, but you're not alonewith that. Sorry. It's stuff you probably won't have to worry about for a while. Maybe we should change the subject?"
"Maybe." Phantom says, floating a little over her. "So, what are your powers?"
"My powers?" Ellie smirks. "Why are you asking, kid?"
"I—I don't know how strong I am, and I know you said you aren't really a halfa, but you're the only comparison I have. So, I was thinking, if you show me what you can do, then maybe it can help me figure out my own power limits and—" The kid's muttering up a storm. He's not even stopping to breathe. Not that he needs to, of course. But, still. Ellie's impressed.
"Alright, alright." Ellie finally winds him down, but she can't help the smirk that crosses her face. "How about a practical presentation?"
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MYSTERIOUS LIGHTS OVER THE OCEAN – A SIGN OF THE END-TIMES, OR A STRANGE QUIRK ACTIVATION?
BY SHINSOU JUN
On the night of XX XY, many reports were called in to the news station regarding a strange light phenomenon occurring over the Pacific just outside the city of Musutafu, Japan--
"What are you listening to, master?"
Ah. It seems that Tomura has come to visit him again. He smiles, softly, feeling the presence of the boy in the distance, and turns down the volume on the audio player.
"Just an interesting article, Tomura." He says. "It is fun to pay attention to the news, sometimes. How has your newest project been going?"
"It's stupid! The U.A. Sports Festival was supposed to be live on television this year, but they changed it last minute! What a bunch of cowardly scrubs." Tomura huffs, angrily. There's the sound of a chair squeaking on the concrete floor, and a flop indicates to him that Tomura has dropped himself onto the chair. "Some of it is obvious, and we can get some other things from public records, but it's so much grinding, it's annoying."
"Grinding is what you need to do to get to a higher level, though, isn't it?"
"Well. Yeah. But it's not fun, grinding."
"What's fun, then?"
"Beating up the biggest enemy you can find and reaping all the EXP for yourself in one fight." Tomura explains. "It's what killing All Might was meant to do, but that stupid—cheater—got in the way."
Ah, yes. The cheater, as Tomura refers to him. Or, as the world sees him, Phantom. The Musutafu Phantom. Vigilantes don't tend to appear much on his radar until they defect from the side of "good"; or, when they see what the world is really like, and defer to the side for the people, not the institution. It's unfortunate that most vigilantes die shortly after that.
But Phantom is an interesting case. There's not much more known about the vigilante other than what's in private police reports and articles that the public can access. The main hero handling his case—Eraserhead, of course, how he wished he hadn't missed grabbing that man when he was a boy instead of the Shirakumo boy—was surprisingly sparse in his details regarding his interactions with the vigilante. But from what they can gleam, he's got a powerful Quirk.
…
Or is it?
"Tomura, my boy." He interrupts Tomura's rant about grinding, or Phantom, or whatever it was. He doesn't really care. "How has the transcribing gone for the journal Sakura had so kindly retrieved for us?"
"Uh. Almost done." Scratch scratch. The downside of obtaining an enhanced hearing Quirk so many years ago is when all of his other senses are dulled, the hearing is stronger and much more noticeable. He can hear the scratch of Tomura's nails against his dry skin. The sound of breathing in another room. "I still think we should get Kurogiri to record it for you."
"Your voice will do splendid, Tomura. You should have more faith in your oral skills, especially if you wish to take over when I am gone." He says, trying to sprinkle in little seeds of encouragement in his young protégé.
"Whatever. It's a weird journal. Just a bunch of weird stuff about ghosts, or whatever. Why'd you even ask Sakura to get that, anyway?"
"It may surprise you what knowledge may come in handy one day, Tomura. That's why you should spend your time learning as much as you can."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." The nonchalant attitude isn't the worst that he'd gotten from Tomura, at least. So he would let it slide, for now. Allow Tomura to go back to his "grinding", and he would lay in wait for the day that Phantom would one day be before him.
Quirk or not, the vigilante is very, very, interesting.
Chapter 31: I Am Being Put In A Situation, and I Don't Like It
"That is all for today. Oh, and Shinsou, All Might would like to meet with you in Conference Room 2."
Aizawa-sensei is interesting for a homeroom teacher; doubly so for an Ethics teacher. It's definitely the subject that he could see the pro-hero teaching. The lectures are pretty interesting, too, though it does look like a few of his classmates had dozed off near the end of it.
(Notably, they have been a little duller than before. Aizawa-sensei's under eyebags also looked darker than before. Probably just a case though, right? Nothing unusual.)
But, wait-- All Might wants to see him, of all the students in the class? Why Hitoshi? It's not like he's the best in the class. He's pretty middle ground, rounded up a bit with his grades in English and Literature. He's not the strongest, but with Aizawa-sensei's extra training before the entrance exam, he's not the weakest, either.
He is, as Kaminari would say, mid. Which has a more negative connotation and Hitoshi pointed that out to the blond when he said that, and Kaminari tried to backpedal and say well I mean it in a good way!, but it still kind of hurt.
Because he is. He is mid. He is average; painfully so. Unlike his other classmates, he has a mental Quirk. He can't make things float or create objects from the lipids in his body or electrify things. He's just normal, not normal enough to be dangerous to his existence but normal enough that he just stands out. He doesn't stand out much– not that he wants to stand out– so having the number one hero in Japan ask to meet with him personally is… weird.
An anxious thought pops into his head before he can stop it. Did they catch Izuku? Do they know who he is? Am I a suspect? Izuku is strong and powerful as a halfa, but he isn't… Well, Hitoshi wouldn't call him stupid, Izuku is a crazy genius (and emphasis on the crazy) but he's not the most… Aware, socially or spatially.
For being one of the strongest heroes (because he is a hero at this point) Hitoshi knows, whenever they hang out when Izuku is just plain, old, Midoriya Izuku, somehow, he's just as clumsy and clueless as ever. It's like a lever switches when he transforms, but Hitoshi knows that's not true.
Either way, being called to one of the offices to meet with All Might is a little embarrassing. A few of his classmates ooooh at him as soon as the bell rings for the next class. Kaminari asks if he's in trouble, and all Hitoshi does is shrug as they awkwardly break for lunch. Luckily, lunch is pretty long at U.A., providing some of the more studious students time to study or train with their free time, so he isn't worried about missing anything to eat. He does steal a glance towards Iida, who shuffles out of the room silently, and his eyes lock with Uraraka for a second.
The news articles flash in his mind again.
HERO INGENIUM FOUND WOUNDED BY HERO KILLER.
He can't even imagine what Iida's going through. There's been no news on whether or not Ingenium has woken up. Sparse details of being found half-dead in an alleyway by a citizen, wounds obviously from the Hero Killer himself, Stain. A story that Hitoshi hadn't been that interested in following until he finds it suddenly connected to himself.
The days after the Sports Festival were supposed to be fun, right? Rumor says they're going to be picking their hero names by the end of the week. Their heronames. And they're going on a weekend-long internship the next week, too! Things are supposed to be getting better—especially after the USJ Incident—so why do things just feel like they're starting to crumble?
Hitoshi pushes those thoughts away. You're catastrophizing, a voice in his head (that sounds eerily like Izuku) reminds him. You're catastrophizing. Things aren't falling apart completely. Your friend is going through a rough time. Hopefully you can find a way to support him. Talking didn't seem to help. Iida dodged any questions about his brother like a professional dodgeball player. Even one-on-one, his friend assured him that he was fine, and that he was lucky, because not many of the Hero Killer's victims survived to tell the tale. Less about me, now.
He shuffles towards the staff offices and conference rooms. They weren't rooms typically used by any of the students—or, at least, the first-years. Hitoshi's pretty sure he's seen Snipe or Midnight host small lectures in the conference rooms before to upperclassmen on specific techniques or hero training before. Most that Hitoshi would have contact with these offices is if he ever did anything too bad—or comparatively, really good—but he's not anything, really.
Sure, he got third place in the Sports Festival, but he tied with explosion-boy McGee Bakugou Katsuki who definitely soaked up the spotlight and attention more. Even if he was fuming at being "beat by IcyHot at half his power", or whatever bullshit nonsense he was on. Shinsou Hitoshi blends into a crowd, and maybe it's a strength, but it still never feels good enough.
All Might is waiting outside one of the conference rooms, a bright smile on his face. When he spots Shinsou, he waves at him immediately. "Ah! Shinsou Hitoshi! I suppose Aizawa got my message then!"
Hitoshi wonders what kind of texter or email-er All Might is like. Does he type everything in all caps, just like he sounds like he's always yelling at something, or is it something normal and professional?
"Come in, come in, I would like to discuss something with you!"
Hitoshi stops, right outside the door. He tenses. "Am I in trouble?"
"Trouble? No! You're not in trouble. As far as I know, at least!" All Might laughs.
It eases his anxiety a bit, but he doesn't feel a whole lot better about it. Still, it's enough that he steps into the room and awkwardly sits on the couch opposite All Might. It's odd, being this close to the Number-One hero in Japan. Well, the official Number-One hero in Japan. Hitoshi thinks that Izuku has what it takes, and Phantom is number-one in his heart, but maybe that's because Hitoshi's been actually saved by Phantom before, while All Might has always been this distant paragon, a caricature of a person that Hitoshi doubts is real.
The go-lucky hero façade drops as soon as the door is shut. "Now, Shinsou. What I want to tell you here, I do not wish to leave the room. No blabbing to your classmates, or anyone online about this. It is a secret that I hold very close to me… the truth about my Quirk."
His… Quirk?
"Many generations ago, at the Dawn of Quirks, a man rose to power in the criminal underworld. His name was… All For One."
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"Y'know, Phantom, you're pretty good at this hero thing!"
"Thanks, I try." Izuku shrugs, landing on top of the roof.
Eraserhead hasn't been on patrol for a few days—Izuku's ignoring the worry slowly eating away at his core—but Ellie has been popping in to help out. Invisibly and out of sight, of course, for anyone but Izuku. She's still helping him, through training him between muggings and fights. It's actually been really great so far.
And luckily for Izuku, nothing major has been happening in the criminal underworld, either. There have been a few attempted robberies of the bank that he stopped, and muggings here and there, but nothing huge to report. Not even any Trigger deals on the street.
Ingenium being attacked by the Hero Killer just outside Musutafu might have scared some of the lowest-ranking villains out. Which, while obviously Ingenium being attacked and nearly killed is horribleand Izuku wishes the best in the pro hero's recover, it's at least nice to have a few easier nights, even without Ellie's background help.
"No, I mean it, Phantom." Ellie floats, cross-legged, over the roof. "You're good at this. Which is good, it helps your core develop stronger, when you indulge your Obsession."
"It does?" Izuku asks. "Indulging in an Obsession makes you stronger?"
"Well, it depends on the ghost. It can sometimes cause a small power boost in a Ghost. One might go from a level two to a level three if they indulge their obsession enough, but it could be only temporary if the ghost's obsession is, like, fishing or something." Ellie explains. "My obsession has been freedom. The ability to travel where I want and do what I want. I can't always do it, but I do feel more in my element when I am. But since you're a halfa, it's different. It just makes you… I dunno, get stronger faster?"
That's…
Awesome! Izuku feels his core buzz in excitement. The stronger he is, the more people he can save. Maybe if he saves enough people, the HPSC will see him worthy of a license, and he'll actually be the hero he's always dreamed of? Oh, that makes him want to—to---
Ellie yawns, interrupting Izuku's thoughts. "Sorry. I'm exhausted. I ran around Harajuku all day today and I'm beat. Same time tomorrow?"
"It's my day off patrol tomorrow." Izuku says. He needs sleep, too—he's been running on a little less, and if Eraserhead pops out on patrol again and sees Izuku running off fumes for the second time, Izuku's pretty sure Eraserhead would find a way to arrest him on the spot. Maybe do a salt circle, or use iron, or whatever weaknesses ghosts are supposed to have. "Night after next?"
"That works! See you then, Phantom. Ellie, out!" And just like that—she flickers out of existence. Whether she disappears and flies away invisibly or can teleport, Izuku can't figure it out. And he hasn't been able to ask yet. No matter—it seems like Ellie is able to stay in the human world a lot longer than Amorpho was ever able to, so he's sure he'll be stumbling into her again soon.
He stands on the top of that roof for a moment longer, staring upward. He remembers when the stars weren't as visible in the night sky—but it seems like everything has gotten a lot brighter and louder for him since his death, and the stars are more radiant than ever. It's transfixing for a moment—he had never considered how small humans truly were. Many space programs were abandoned a long, long time ago during the dawn of Quirks.
After all—why would they need to venture out there, when there were fantastic and extraordinary things happening on their own planet?
The thoughts wander a bit more, and he finds himself sitting on the edge of the building. He should really head home soon—the streets have been pretty quiet all night—but he doesn't really want to.
Sure, there's always the possibility that his mom wakes up suddenly and gets the urge to check in on him, but that's rather unlikely given how deep of a sleeper she is.
So, he can spare a few extra moments by himself, surely—
Except, suddenly, something whizzes by Izuku's ear. He flinches, turning his upper half intangible nearly on instinct, and jumps to his feet, glancing behind him to see what it was that nearly hit him.
A feather, ruby in color, is lodged in the concrete of the rooftop right next to him. Deep, too—something strong and forceful. What kind of Quirk…?
Izuku feels his stomach drop. He recognizes the feather. It doesn't take a genius to, really—there aren't many people with wing Quirks around, less so in heroics, so that means—
"Hey there, Phantom!" The number four hero lands behind to him quietly. Izuku doesn't even need to turn around to recognize Hawks' voice, though it is wild hearing it in person and not over a recording. There's a higher pitch to it than he expected. "Mind sparing a few minutes to chat?"
Izuku turns on his heel—sure enough, it is theHawks, not some sort of duplicate or illusion. He glances around, stopping his (voluntary) breathing to see if he can hear any other chatter or people nearby, but it's a quiet night still. It's only Izuku and Hawks up on the top of this building, only ones awake, at least. Despite the fact that Hawks is clearly dressed up in most of his hero costume, there's a causality to it. Not everything is prim and proper, like it is on TV or in the papers. His hair is a little more wind-swept and ruffled, the earmuffs are around his neck, his glasses are pushed up, and his wings are tucked neatly behind him.
"Chat?" Izuku echoes. He stays where he's standing, but he digs his feet into the ground a bit more. Ready to pounce—not towards Hawks, but ready to flee, more or less. The last thing Izuku wants on his heel is one of the top ten pro-heroes. Eraserhead was good and enough for him, thank you very much. "About what?"
Hawks shrugs. "I dunno. You're pretty new to the hero thing, yeah?"
"I… Yeah." He pauses. "But I don't think most people see me as a hero."
"You've saved lives. That's being a hero in my book, at least." He flaps his wings, but not in a predatory sort of way—a bit more playful and mischievous, if Izuku could really understand bird language. "You're doing pretty good, too, for just a vigilante with little training."
"I—Thanks? I guess?" Izuku hesitates, but takes a step forward. "What is this all about? Trying to talk me out of being a vigilante? No offense, Hawks, but you wouldn't be the first to try this."
"Who said I was trying to talk you out of things?" Hawks' smile seems… genuine enough. There's a bit of an unsettling feeling in Izuku's core. He can't quite make out what it is, nor what Hawks is trying to push forward here, either. "In fact—don't tell anyone I'm telling you this, yeah?—I think you're doing better work than most heroes out there."
Izuku blanks. He feels like his brain bluescreens for a second. "What?"
Hawks laughs. When he does, his wings flap a bit more with his breaths. "Well, most of us heroes? We can't be bothered cleaning up the shit in-between the cracks. We take on the big things. The villains who want world domination, who want to kill and injure as many people as possible, the ones that want to send a message." He points a finger towards Izuku. "But you guys? You vigilantes? You're the ones doing the grunt work. You're trying to keep the streets safer, and you're doing it for no pay, no benefits, and it's technically a crime, too. I think that's more respectful than what the lot of us professionals do."
Oh. Oh. Izuku isn't quite sure if he should take it as a compliment. But it's charming, the way it's said—maybe it's Hawks' voice, or maybe it's just his attitude, but what sounds like it might be an insult has somehow turned into something that makes Izuku's core buzz with happiness, and whatnot?
"Um. Thanks."
"Of course, Phantom. I mean it, I really do." He shuffles a little closer, across the rooftop. "If you ever need anyone to talk about hero stuff, you can always come to me."
"And you won't turn me in?"
"Ugh, no. You know how much paperwork that is?" Hawks laughs, again, and Izuku can't help but nervously join in with a few chuckles of his own. "Anyway. As long as you don't, like, kill anyone or turn to the dark side anytime soon, you're good to keep on doing what you're doing, Phantom. If you ever need any help, just let me know." He puts one of his hands in his pockets, and pulls out a cell phone. "Here."
"I don't have a phone number." Izuku replies, immediately.
"No. Not for that." He's a bit forceful, in taking Izuku's hand and setting the cellphone in it. It's a bit older—a flip phone, Izuku has never actually held one before—and it's heavier than he expects it. "In case you ever need to call me."
"You're just—giving me a phone?" Izuku blinks. "How can I be sure it doesn't have a tracker in it?"
"Trust? I don't know much about phone stuff." He digs into one of his pockets again, and Hawks pulls out a receipt that's about half of Izuku's height. Izuku recognizes the name of the general store that the phone was bought in, the ones that always print out seventeen million coupons on the end of their paper receipts. "Here, look. Literally just bought and set it up, like, an hour ago."
Izuku takes the receipt. Sure enough, it was bought not even an hour ago—forty-two minutes, specifically—and it's just one of those cheap cellphones that doesn't have much power for anything other than phone calls. Izuku would have to learn how to text using the number pad if he ever wanted to send a text message. There's no box to it, but Izuku glances over the phone, looking for any obvious signs of tampering or a tracking device on it, but it seems pretty clean.
"Anyway. You don't have to keep it." Hawks says, taking the receipt back from Izuku and crumpling it up in his hands. "Just… Think of it as an emergency phone, yeah? If you ever need any help, you know who to call, right?"
"I… I don't know what to say." An extra burner phone would be a very good investment, if Izuku wanted to keep up with vigilantism. He could add Eraserhead's phone number, if he could get it from the hero. Opening it up, it looks like the phone already has Hawks' contact photo saved, though it takes Izuku a few moments to find it. "Why are you helping me?"
"I like vigilantes. I really do. It sucks when they die. Or turn evil. Either way." Hawks speaks so candidly. It's incredible. Izuku wishes he could find that sort of courage and comfort to do that, too, one day. "I'd hate to see that happen to you, Phantom."
I'd hate to see that happen to you, Phantom. Something about that makes Izuku's core hum, but he does feel himself bristle under the praise a bit. It's a nice gesture, but from the number four pro hero, of all people? There's no way there's not something ulterior going on, right?
There's not really anything like that happening with Eraserhead. Well, the underground hero does try to convince Izuku to just turn himself in sometimes. He tries to wring out more information about Izuku, probably in hopes of uncovering Phantom's true identity, but there's no way that Eraserhead would be able to connect the dead, glowing ghost called Phantom to the alive, breathing human Midoriya Izuku. Or, at the very least—not for a long, longtime. The man doesn't believe in ghosts, yet he works alongside one almost every other night!
Izuku slides the phone into his pocket. He hasn't taken any sort of class on mechanics or engineering, but he can definitely take the phone apart and pick it apart in case of a tracker. It wouldn't be that hard, especially with the aid of a YouTube tutorial. He takes the phone as an offer of good will, for now.
Izuku jumps up into the air, letting go of gravity. "Well, I've gotta go find some bad guys to haunt. Thanks for the phone, Hawks."
"Anytime, Phantom. Maybe we can go flying sometime? I've never had anyone to fly with before."
Fly? With Hawks? Oh, be still my beating heart—Izuku won't deny the inner fanboy in him nearly just exploded. With a nod and a toothy grin (that unfortunately, Hawks can't see underneath his mask), Izuku shoots off into the sky, high above the clouds and into the night.
✨👻✨
All For One is an old story.
A long time ago, at the start of the dawn of Quirks, a man was born with the ability to take and give Quirks as he pleased. He deemed himself righteous and morally correct and took from others what was not rightfully his—the story of many men who find themselves with much power. He became a collector of the odd and unusual Quirk, too. Many people began to follow him, for his words and ideas made sense in the chaotic changes of the world.
Except for his younger brother. His younger brother, seemingly powerless, disagreed with what his older brother was trying to do. The world that All For One wanted to make. But the younger brother was sickly, and he had always been, since birth. Maybe All For One had been too greedy in the womb, too.
But All For One didn't care about his younger brother's opinions, especially since his younger brother had no say in the fight, being powerless as he was. Having pity on his younger brother, All For One gave him a Quirk that he had collected—one that allowed the user to stockpile power. Not a particularly useful one. All For One had no use for it, and didn't care to keep it. Giving it to his younger brother was more like giving a young child trash to play with; not something he particularly cared about.
But what All For One didn't know, is that the younger brother did have a Quirk. One that allowed its user to transfer itself to someone else. The Stockpile Quirk and the Transfer Quirk merged together in the younger brother's body, and became a new Quirk, one later called…
...One For All...
"...And young Shinsou, this is the power I wish to give to you."
It's 1 AM. Izuku is still most likely out on patrol, and from the sounds of it, had a pretty busy day, training with that ghost lady. Not something Hitoshi wants to interrupt.
Hitoshi isn't jealous. He would never say that. Well, maybe a little jealous but he would never say it aloud because Izuku is a dear friend to him, and he doesn't want to cause problems in his friendship with Izuku. Maybe he doesn't trust the random ghost lady who attacked Izuku, but he also doesn't understand ghost stuff. Izuku said it was a way ghosts just interacted, brawling and sparring, so maybe it was a social thing he just couldn't understand as a human?
But damn it. He needs to talk to someone. All Might said to keep everything he'd told Hitoshi a secret, but—he doesn't know what to do. The number-one hero in all of Japan just offered him something extraordinary. A Quirk, that can transfer from one to another, and all the power that came with it. The strength.
Hitoshi had wanted to be underground. His Quirk isn't suited for daytime heroics, after all—if he was in the limelight, the villains would know his Quirk, and then it wouldn't work.
But, on the other hand—being offered immense power and strength and training from the number-one hero? It's an opportunity that he can't pass up. Especially since then he'd finally have a physical Quirk, and he'd fit in with all his classmates.
He turns in his bed again. It's 1:02, according to the digital clock that blinks at him angrily from his nightstand. Hitoshi's two melatonin gummies haven't done shit at getting him to sleep yet.
....Another one wouldn't hurt, would it?
Chapter 32: Something Almost Nice, But Not Always Quite
The steady hum of the heartbeat monitor haunts Shouta's dreams. It's not like he hasn't had experience with this before—he's not always lucky to get to someone in time on patrol. Some of them are lucky and survive but injured or disabled. Others don't make it. But those people, those victims—there's a separation between them and him. They're people, people Shouta is meant to protect, but they're still strangers to him.
But this? It makes his stomach flip, looking at the unconscious form of Iida Tensei.
A ventilator is shoved deep down his throat to help him breathe. So many different wires and cords are plugged in around him. He's deathly pale, too, which doesn't ease anything. Deathly pale, breathing slow, and barely there—but still, hanging on.
It hurts, knowing the victim before him for once.
Even if they hadn't been classmates at U.A., Shouta would probably still have visited Tensei once or twice in the hospital, if things turned out the same. Tensei's younger brother, Tenya, is, after all, one of Shouta's students. He's responsible for the youngr Iida, for at least eight hours a day. It wouldn't be the same—it wouldn't hurt the same—but Shouta would still devote whatever time he had to make sure both Iida brothers were okay.
Iida Tenya had just left a few hours ago with his father. This wing of the hospital is particularly quiet and dark—a special section specifically for heroes and their families, in emergencies only. Tensei has already had five surgeries to repair the damages. He's been out for all of it. He'd fallen under once he'd arrived at Musutafu Private Hospital and hadn't woken up since.
His vitals, by some miracle, were improving, but his injuries? He might not be able to walk again.
If he even wakes up, Shouta wants to add but buries that deep down. Not every moment needs his brand of dark pessimism.
It's painful to look at sometimes, but Shouta stomachs it, nonetheless. He and Tensei weren't the closest out of their rag-tag friend group at U.A. They were friends, of course—mostly of Hizashi, but they hung out a decent amount together. Never really just the two of them, except for class projects and team-building exercises. And even then, Shouta and Tensei had different ambitions for the hero industry—Tensei would carry the family name of Ingenium proudly, while Shouta would stick to the dark streets, where Eraserhead would only be whispered as a ghostly threat.
Tensei wanted to do good, to make a name for himself. And, well—he did do good, and he had a decent name to him, but--
The Hero Killer. Stain.
Most of his victims weren't good. Of course, they were heroes—they all did good deeds, protected people, saved the day, as heroes do—but they weren't good people. Something had corrupted. Embezzlement, fraud, and even sexual assault on an intern. They deserved punishment for their misdeeds, justice for their victims, not a brutal deathat the hands of a vigilante gone rouge.
Why Tensei? Tensei is a good man. There's no way that anything wrong could have been happening at the Team Idaten agency—right?
Serial killers—which is what Stain is at this point—have a pattern. A type of victim, a favored method, something that repeats in each crime. Unless there's something dark about Shouta's friend, then Tensei is a break in the pattern. Not to mention, Tensei was attacked in the middle of the day, in Musutafu, during a time where the most heroes were attending the Sports Festival at U.A. A risky attack, a risky play…
Shouta pinches the bridge of his nose. He'd offered his assistance in this case—the Stain case—because, yet again, Shouta can't not get himself involved somehow. It was a great asset for heroics. It was something he hoped his students would learn, in moderation. When to be nosy, when to not be nosy. An important hero trait. But it can be a little bit of an issue when Shouta has the mystery of Phantom, the League of Villains, and now the Hero Killer on his plate while also juggling regular patrol and being a teacher.
…Well, he knew it wouldn't be an easy life, when he chose it.
Still. The Hero Killer broke the pattern, and Shouta can't figure out why. Unfortunately, the best clue to why was currently unconscious in front of him with a ventilator down his throat.
"Wake up soon, please." Shouta mutters to himself, flipping through the reports he'd brought with him. All sightings of the Hero Killer, mostly in and out of Hosu, but a few in Musutafu. Internships are coming up for his students, and he's not doubting a few of the more troublesome children will get involved. Both the ones in his class, and the one outside of it.
✨👻✨
Everyone is still living off the high of the Sports Festival a few days later. Hitoshi isn't surprised—most of his classmates have been recognized by strangers, out on the street. Not just for being the notorious Class 1-A, the students that were attacked on a field trip. This time, for things they actually did in the Sports Festival, their Quirks, their strengths.
He hadn't been recognized much after the first day. Hitoshi's glad for that, especially so that since the event wasn't broadcast live, nobody knew what his Quirk was. It was a secret, still.
He shuffles into U.A. on a particularly rainy day, shaking his umbrella outside to dry before dropping it in the cubby. Everything is finally starting to settle down, at least, for the most part. Hitoshi's brain is still swimming from the offer he'd gotten a few days ago from All Might.
"...And young Shinsou, this is the power I wish to give to you."
He still hadn't decided. All Might said he could take all the time he needed. But clearly, if the time limit on All Might's ability to do anything before shrinking into a skinny twig of a man who coughs up blood every few minutes is saying something, it's saying he really doesn't have all the time he can to decide. Hitoshi doesn't have to say yes. He could still do his original plan, just like he'd dreamed of. Use his mental Quirk and become an underground hero, just like Aizawa-sensei.
But… He can't deny there's a temptation there, of power. More than Hitoshi could ever imagine. The Number-One Hero had his eyes on Hitoshi, now. What else could he say? What else could he do?
Hitoshi wishes he could talk to Izuku about it, but it isn't Hitoshi's secret to spill. Not yet, at least—if Hitoshi does take it. He doesn't know about anyone with two quirks. He's pretty sure it's impossible. Todoroki might seem to have two quirks, but it's a mutation in his body that allows for the control of ice and fire on different sides. Two aspects of the same Quirk.
Would Brainwashing and One For All even work together? Or would something bad happen to him? All Might assured him that nothing would happen. Previous holders of One For All had Quirks, too. All Might was the only Quirkless one (and to think about that—the number one hero in Japan, born Quirkless! Oh, if only Izuku could know…) in its existence. It could just buff Brainwashing completely. Hitoshi might not even need a verbal response to it.
The power. It's tempting. It'd be a big break on Hitoshi—finally make things easier for him, instead of the Sisyphean struggle of trying to be a hero with a non-physical Quirk. But, still. So many things to think about.
"Hi, Shinsou!" Uraraka greets him at the front door to their classroom. She's big on that—greeting people as they enter. She told him, once, she does it so everyone feels welcome. There's only two students she doesn't greet in the morning. Mineta, obviously. And Iida, since Iida is always there before her. "Hey, can I ask you a question about the math homework?"
And that's how it usually goes, in the boring mornings in Class 1-A. They chatter amongst themselves until Aizawa-sensei arrives. He has a few announcements and then sleeps for the rest of their homeroom block, which mostly turns into a tiny study hall. And then their classes start for the day. It's a nice routine, which is weird when it's broken up by Aizawa-sensei walking into the room without a sleeping bag with Midnight-sensei not too far behind.
"Quiet down." Aizawa-sensei says, as everyone jumps into their seats. "We're having a special hero class today."
Special? All Might was nowhere in sight. Of course, it could just be a lecture from Aizawa-sensei about something. A pop quiz? Another Quirk test? But Midnight-sensei was there. So, what could it mean?
"That's right, kids!" Midnight-sensei says, and winks. "You'll have a big task ahead of you this morning~!"
Aizawa-sensei looks over at Midnight with a dead look on his face, before turning back to the class. "Hero names. Today, you will be choosing your hero names, in order to prepare for your upcoming internships."
Oh. Hitoshi lets out a small sigh of relief. Nothing too big. Well, it was something big, as most heroes stuck with the name they choose in high school. But it wasn't something Hitoshi had forgotten to study for, or anything.
It was a little exciting, too—his classmates cheered, relieved that there wasn't a pop-quiz to deal with or any more scary Quirk tests that threatened expulsion. Something somewhat normal, and somewhat exciting, too.
The internships had been dropped on them last-minute before dismissal the day before. Because of what Class 1-A (and some of Class 1-B, too) had shown off, in both the Sports Festival and the USJ Incident, many pro heroes were curious and interested in the students already. Internship offers weren't usually sent out to first-year students without approval from Nedzu, but it seemed like the principal was interested in starting a tiny internship program. A full weekend—Friday, Saturday, and Sunday—that was less of an internship and more of a job shadowing opportunity. Many of Hitoshi's classmates had gotten requests and offers from big pro hero agencies already.
Hitoshi hadn't done too bad himself, with sixteen offers. But he was on the lower end of that. Which made sense—his Quirk wasn't all that flashy, and while he did get tied third place, it was tied third place. Not as good as second or first.
"Calm down, kiddos!" Midnight-sensei says, slapping her hand down on Aizawa-sensei's podium. It gets most of the class to settle back down into their seats. "Now, your dear homeroom teacher here isn't the best when it comes to names—"
Hitoshi swears he hears Aizawa-sensei mutter something not very nice directed at Midnight.
"—so he'd enlisted me to help you!" She winks again, smirking. "Now, there are a few ground rules before we start this, alright? No swears, no slurs, no stupid names. Obviously. I am the judge, jury, and executioner of your names. We'll try and keep this lighthearted and fun. If you end up with a stupid name for yourself and get stuck with it for the rest of your life, that's on you, not me."
Makes sense.
Aizawa-sensei clears his throat. "When you give yourself a name, you'll get a more concrete idea of who you want to be in the future. What sort of hero you want to be. What you want to inspire in other people. Consider who you want to be in the future when you do this. It cannot easily be changed later."
Hitoshi had ideas for what he wanted his hero name to be. Midnight asks for a bit of assistance, and Iida helps pass out whiteboards and markers to his classmates to write their hero name ideas on. The classroom goes quiet for a few moments. The only sound is the scrrrr of dry erase marker on whiteboard as people write, erase bad ideas, and rewrite good ones.
After a good ten minutes or so, Hitoshi feels like he's satisfied enough with his name choice, but still doesn't seem too confident.
Midnight-sensei clears her throat.
"Alright! Let's start presenting some of these names already. Who's ready?"
Presenting? Hitoshi resists the urge to sink down into his seat. He knows if he tries that, Midnight will call on him first. Well, it might be nice to go first and get the ordeal done and over with, but still.
Luckily, nobody has to be picked off first. In fact, it's Aoyama who volunteers to go first.
"Here I go! The Shining Hero: I Can Not Stop Twinkling!"
… It's not a surprising name, knowing Aoyama.
Midnight looks at the sloppy English handwriting on the whiteboard, and scratches at her chin. "It's a great start, but a little too long, Aoyama-san. How about you erase the I, and shorten the "can not" to just "can't"?"
The Shining Hero: Can't Stop Twinkling. It's still a mouthful. He'd probably just get called Twinkle, or something, which isn't the worst hero name. It definitely captures Aoyama's… vibes.
"You're right, mademoiselle! It still captures my sparkling aura but is slightly easier to say!"
"Perfect! It's a pleasure to meet you, Can't Stop Twinkling!"
It actually worked. Holy shit, Hitoshi thinks to himself, as Aoyama bounces back to his seat.
"Oh! Oh! I'll go next!" Mina jumps out of her seat, and runs up with her own whiteboard. "Alien Queen!"
"A-Alien Queen?" Midnight jumps a bit, her face paling. "Like the ones in those scary movies that spit acid? Maybe reconsider naming yourself after a horror movie monster!"
"Aw, okay." Mina sulks back to her seat.
Tsu ends up on the podium third. She's not at all mortified or embarrassed by being up there, not one bit. "I've had this idea since I was in elementary school. Rainy Season Hero: Froppy!"
"That is adorable, Tsu-chan~!" Midnight says, with a big smile on her face. "Approved! Hello, Froppy!"
Thankfully, the choice of Froppy seems to bring the vibes in the room back to normal. For the next twenty minutes or so, it follows a pretty simple pattern—someone will walk up and present their hero name. Midnight-sensei will approve or disapprove. They'll go back to their seat, and if they have to, think of a new idea. And then someone else will walk up. It's pretty voluntary, but as much as Hitoshi wishes to be able to turn invisible like Izuku can, he knows he can't put it off for long.
Uraraka goes before him. "It, um, it took me a bit, but I came up with this… Uravity!"
"Stylish! A mixture of your name and the word gravity, right?" Midnight-sensei asks. "Approved. Hello, Uravity!"
And then it's Hitoshi's turn. He tries to ignore the way his palms sweat on the whiteboard as he walks up. Bearing a part of yourself, a thought or an idea, to your classroom for judgement is hard. He doesn't know how some of his classmates can do it for so long. But he has to do it, just like everyone else, so might as well rip off the band-aid, right?
"…Lethe?" Midnight reads aloud, tilting her head. "I'm not familiar with that."
For the first time in a while, Aizawa-sensei clears his throat. Hitoshi had thought the man had fallen asleep standing up until that moment. "Greek mythology. One of the rivers in Hades, correct?"
"Y-yes." Hitoshi responds, flinching at the stutter in his words. God, this is so embarrassing.
"The river of forgetfulness. Interesting choice, Shinsou." Aizawa-sensei says.
"Forgetfulness, huh?" Midnight repeats. "Kinda like your Quirk, but not quite. Sounds good to me!"
Lethe. Uraraka claps for him, and a few of his classmates compliment the name. Not too much fanfare, but just enough for it to count. So not too bad. It could've gone worse, right?
"King Explosion Murder!"
"Um... No."
✨👻✨
"How high up do you think you can fly?"
"Huh?" Izuku glances up to Ellie.
She'd been helping him hone his more ghostly abilities since she'd first fought him. His ecto-blasts (which he still refuses to ever use on a human) have gotten stronger, though they aren't as strong as hers yet. He's focusing more on accuracy and speed, not particularly strength. This was just another night—a few bad guys beat up, and a few sparring sessions with Ellie. With Eraserhead having been out of the picture for a bit, probably just working on another case, the only interaction Izuku has been getting are these training sessions with Ellie and his twice-a-week flight around the city with Hawks.
"Every time I've come to train you, you always stay low." Ellie explains, crossing her legs to sit mid-air. Her wispy white hair floats up into the night sky. "You're not afraid of heights, are you?"
I used to be, Izuku wants to say. There were times where he'd be afraid of being too high up. When he first started to experiment with his ghost powers, he couldn't go too high up without a bit of vertigo. But he built up at it. Bit by bit, until he could comfortably fly at the level of clouds.
"No," is what he says instead.
"Well, c'mon, then!" Ellie says, starting to float higher up.
"W-What? Wait, where are you—" Izuku stumbles over his words, but floats up at the same speed of Ellie. They've got a good foot of space between them now. "—Ellie! Ellie, wait—"
"It's okay, Phantom! C'mon!" She floats higher and higher, through the clouds, leaving an Ellie-shaped hole in them.
Izuku stops, right at the bottom of the clouds. He's soared above them before, but never this high. He doesn't feel the vertigo looking down anymore (there's some sort of comfort in the height, he finds), but he's high, and it's a little nerve-wracking. Not quite fear. He's not afraid. He's just—he's nervous. He's never tested his limits on flight before, other than speed. Why would he? Why would he need to go higher than anyone else can, when everything he cares about is so close to the ground?
"Phantom?" Ellie's head pops back through the clouds. There's a light layer of mist over her skin. It's hard to remember that she's technically over two hundred years old. She doesn't look a day over eighteen. Her head cocks to the side. "You good?"
"I've never gone this high up." He replies. He bites his lip, though she doesn't see it under his mask.
"It's okay. I won't let you fall." Ellie reaches out a hand to him, and he hesitates, before taking it. She helps pull him up through the clouds and above it.
They keep at a steady pace, like they're climbing a mountain. He watches as the world below him shrinks underneath, the air getting thinner as they go higher, and higher. He reminds himself he doesn't need to breathe, and stops it, just as they get to the top of the stratosphere.
"Isn't this neat?" Ellie asks.
"It… It is." Izuku mutters. Everything looks so small, from this high up. He can see most of his small corner of Japan. The place he's called home for so long. A place that hasn't been nice to him, but a place that he holds dear in his heart, nonetheless. "Why did you take me this high?"
Ellie smiles—it's softer than her usual smirks. "Even though I'm a neverborn, I can't stay away from the Infinite Realms for too long. I start to get all gloopy." When she says this, her face shifts, mimicking a melting effect. Her eyeball nearly drops out, before she fixes herself back up again. "Just like that."
"Oh." Izuku nods. He remembers how weak Amorpho had gotten during their last few weeks together. "Why don't I have to go to the Realms?"
"You're a halfa. You're still living. You're, like, a solar-powered generator. You create your own energy." She shrugs. "At least, that's what I've been told. You probably should visit the Realms soon, though. Dr. Frostbite would love to meet you. So would a lot of ghosts, actually."
Right. The Realms. A place Izuku has thought about going, once or twice, but can't exactly figure out how to. He curls his legs underneath him, like he's kneeling on the ground. He stares back down at Japan. It looks so small, from this high up.
"Anyway. I'm not leaving yet. I'll still be in the city for a few more days. But…" She reaches for her neck, and grabs the chain that Izuku's noticed around it. It's a golden chain that reflects the streetlights when they're sparring, and holds something heavier than just a regular little charm. A thick piece of metal, circular, the size of Izuku's palm, is at the very end of the chain. "I want you to have this."
Izuku takes it carefully, not wanting to drop it. There's a little latch on one side of it, and he presses it. The piece of metal turns out to be a compass. The small needle is pointing directly towards north for him. "A compass?" Izuku asks.
"Not just any compass! It's a tool made by combining the power of some of the strongest Ancients ever in the Realms!" Ellie says. "A long time ago, we used to have what was called an Infi-Map, a map that would take you wherever you needed to go in the Infinite Realms. It was a highly treasured artefact, and it was stolen, like, so many times, and it was eventually destroyed in hellfire."
Hellfire? Izuku wonders. Does… does hell exist?!
Ellie continues, as if she hadn't dropped a large bomb on Izuku. "And against what anyone else says, it was totally not my fault. Anyway, when I became an apprentice to the Ancient of Time—really cool ghost by the way, hope you meet them soon—they gave me this! It's an Infi-compass!" She adds jazz hands to the end of her sentence for the effect.
"Infi-compass…?"
"Or just a compass. Whatever. Anyway, the point is, this compass can take you anywhere you need to go. You need some hot, greasy fast food? Ask the compass, and it'll take you there. It'll take you to the closest one, or the one you need to go to. You wanna go to the Infinite Realms? Well, this bad boy will take you straight to the closest natural portal. Of course, it could be miles away, but it will still take you in the direction you need to go."
"And you're, just… giving me this?" Izuku feels almost as small as Japan does.
"Yeah! I'm sure I can get ol' Clocky to make me a new one. They've probably seen this coming already anyway. Look, Phantom. You're the Champion of Balance, you should get something that can actually help you see the other realm you're supposed to be helping." Ellie says. She pauses, looking down at the world below them. "I get what it's like—feeling like you're all alone. I wasn't the first of my kind, technically, but I'm the only surviving one. And some people just can't understand what you're going through, no matter how hard they try. But I want you to know—You're never alone. You've got a whole squad of ghosts cheering you on from the flip side. And if you ever need any help, don't be afraid to call."
Izuku glances down at the compass again. The chain is thinner than he expected, but there's a decent weight to it. He loops the chain around his neck, before tucking the compass underneath the hoodie for safe keeping. "T—Thank you, Ellie."
"No prob, Bob!" She winks, and it's like the sentimentality that was once in her voice had been thrown out the window, and the usual mischief was back. "Hey, you ever wanna know what a meteorite feels like?"
Chapter 33: Close Encounters of the Deadly Sort
Hitoshi is getting too busy with U.A. to hang out as often. It hurts, just a little bit—there's a dull ache in his core whenever he has to call off a study session or a hangout in favor of training or the like. And he's mentioned a weekend-long internship program coming up, and Izuku tried to not feel too hurt by it—but it does hurt. It really does.
Ellie's leaving, and Izuku's only other friend, his only other ally who knows his identity, is too busy to hang out. It's fine, though. Izuku's sped through his online classes, and with very little work to do otherwise, it's left a pretty decent gap in his schedule to do vigilante things.
Like, research! There's still something bothering Izuku, deep down, about the way the youngest Todoroki child acted at the Sport's Festival. He had beaten Bakugou, but only by a hair—and that was with only using half of his Quirk. If it weren't for Bakugou's Quirk being Explosions, where the heat could help thaw away Todoroki's frost, Izuku isn't quite sure he would have won. The vibes Endeavor gave off stank, and if that overheard conversation wasn't suspicious enough, Izuku's been digging up quite a few buried headlines of Endeavor's widespread property damage.
Sure, every hero has a hate article written about them every now and then. Izuku's seen a few pop up about him, but mostly they're anti-vigilante pieces written by rich people who have never actually stepped foot in Musutafu, so what do they know, anyway? But at least Izuku keeps the property damage low, and to the alleyways and streets that are easier to replace, than homes and private residences like a certain number-two hero.
But there's nothing else to dig into on a surface level. Mean tweets about Endeavor being rude to fans, but that's just his personality—what the hero world calls the "performance"—so there are plenty of posts defending Endeavor online and even swooning over the brooding pro-hero. Izuku can't accuse Endeavor of any wrongdoing without evidence, and who would take the word of a fourteen-year-old vigilante over a forty-something pro hero?
So that investigation has led him to a bit of a dead end, for now. As it currently stands, Izuku can't prove any sort of child abuse without proof or testimony from the Todoroki family, and there is no way in hell he's going to try and sneak onto their private grounds when the patriarch could easily set him ablaze. Even with Izuku's quick healing plus an emergency Trigger shot, he's going to end up deep fried and probably arrested. He regrets doing it, but he has to put it on the backburner for a bit, because there's another pressing issue.
The Hero Killer.
Izuku has heard the name whispered on the streets for a bit. The Hero Killer—alias, Stain—has been making moves through Hosu and the neighborhoods near Musutafu. A silent killer. He's taken down a few heroes already, including the pro hero Ingenium (in broad fucking daylight, too, the utter gall and bravery). Most of his victims don't survive. There hasn't been any word on Ingenium yet, either, at least to the public.
But he's on the hunt for something. He has a type! It's so easy to see! All of the heroes Stain had killed have had accusations thrown around their name—mostly financial crimes, but he did kill a hero with a few accusations of sexual assault. Izuku doesn't like death—he's had enough experience with it—but they shouldn't be killing people wildly like this. The hero deserved punishment for his actions, not a death that allowed him to get away with it without proper justice for his victims.
"Hope I'm not too late to the party." Hawks' voice interrupts his thoughts as the hero lands on the roof behind him, where Izuku is sitting, legs swung over the side of the rooftop.
Izuku sighs, and looks back at Hawks. It's been a long patrol— stopping muggings, involving himself in problems that aren't his own— and all he wants to do is curl up in his bed and sleep for a few hours. "You don't have to keep checking in on me, Hawks. I'm doing fine."
He won't lie. He misses Eraserhead a lot. The other pro-hero was a steady rock in his life. He hasn't seen Eraserhead for a few days. He's sure that he's busy with other things— Hitoshi mentioned Class 1-A was going to be doing a shadowing program at the end of next week with pro-heroes, so maybe Eraserhead was busy with that? Still; a little warning would have been nice.
Hawks he sits down on the side of the building beside Izuku. "You good, kid? You're not as energetic as usual tonight."
Izuku shrugs, looking away. "Just… Thinking about stuff. It's been a lot, recently. Things change fast."
Hawks nods, his voice suddenly softer. "I get that." He pauses, tilting his head to look at Izuku. "You're just a kid. You shouldn't have to deal with all this vigilante stuff, you know? It's not an easy pass. Especially alone."
"It's... Complicated. You wouldn't get it."
Hawks raises an eyebrow but doesn't press immediately. "Yeah? You sure about that?" His tone is light, but there's a subtle prodding behind it. "I mean, I know a lot of things, kid. Trust me. Complicated's my middle name."
Izuku doesn't respond, but the pain that swells in his chest is unmistakable. The truth is, Ellie would get it. Ellie always understood him in a way that nobody else did. She was the only one who felt like home—another ghost, someone who could truly empathize with Izuku's situation. They weren't just fighting for something bigger than themselves. They were just existing in a way that felt real. But now she's gone.
"You wouldn't get it." Izuku replies. Nobody would get it. Ellie would. Ellie always did— and something about being so close to another ghost, another denizen of the Infinite Realms, something Izuku hasn't even seen, felt amazing. The ways they would just go at each other, fighting, not to protect someone or something, but just let things be? It was natural, it was fun, it was exhilarating. She truly understood Izuku. But now she isn't there anymore. "It's a long story."
"I've got all night, Phantom." Hawks says, with a cheeky smile.
Izuku smiles back, faintly, before looking away. He doesn't say anything more.
Hawks huffs— Izuku can tell he's a bit annoyed, but Hawks doesn't do anything to act on it. "You don't have to do this alone, Phantom. I get that you want to make a difference, try and save people, but it's hard doing it on your own. Hell, even I've got people to trust and lean on. Do you even have anyone?"
Izuku's breath hitches for a second. He has Hitoshi, of course. He has Eraserhead. And Ellie, in a way. He even has the Infini-Compass now, a reminder that there are others out there who understand him. But... he's not sure. Not entirely.
"I do." His voice is firm, but the uncertainty still lingers beneath the surface.
Hawks tilts his head, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Mhm. Sure." He sounds unconvinced, like he's not buying it. "But, you know... sometimes it's hard to really count on people, isn't it? I mean, who else is really there for you when things get rough?"
Izuku feels the weight of Hawks' words pressing on him. It's not what he says—it's how he says it, as though he's gently poking at a wound he knows Izuku is trying to hide. A part of him resents it, but another part—one he's reluctant to admit—wants to believe Hawks. Wants to believe that someone does have his back. Maybe Hawks is right, maybe he is alone.
"Look," Hawks continues, voice softening with feigned sincerity. "I know we've only known each other for a little while, but if you ever need help—just call me. Seriously. I'm not going anywhere."
Izuku freezes for a moment, then looks down at his hands. There's something in the way Hawks says it. Something that makes the offer feel less like an invitation and more like a subtle push. A reminder that, when it comes down to it, Hawks is someone Izuku could rely on. Maybe someone who could offer more than just advice.
Izuku swallows, his heart pounding in his chest. "I… I'll think about it."
Hawks grins, his wings flexing slightly behind him. "Good. Because, Phantom... you really don't have to do this alone. Not when there's someone who's got your back."
Izuku nods. He can feel the burner phone from Hawks in his pocket, and it feels like it's burning a hole in it. "Yeah. Maybe."
Hawks stands up, stretching his wings once more as he looks down at Izuku with that same relaxed smile. "I'm here when you need me, kid. And hey, I mean it—you don't have to use the phone. It's just there if you need it."
Izuku nods, still unsure about everything, but he holds onto the phone, his fingers wrapped around it like a lifeline. "Thanks, Hawks."
"You got it." Hawks gives a little wink as he takes off into the night, his wings slicing through the air with ease. "Take care of yourself, Phantom. I'll see you around."
Izuku watches him go, the faint thrum of unease still at the back of his mind. He doesn't know if he should trust Hawks this easily, but there's something about the hero that feels... familiar, like he understands what Izuku is going through.
Yet-- Izuku can't shake the feeling that he's just been handed something he wasn't quite ready for.
✨👻✨
As Izuku rounds the last corner before heading home, a crash echoes through the streets, drawing his attention immediately. He freezes, mid-flight, barely keeping himself invisible, and he looks around, before he spots a figure in an alleyway below, clearly looking for something. He feels his blood—or, well, his ectoplasm in this form, technically—run cold when he recognizes the messy hair, the sharp chin, and the twin swords on the figure's back.
Stain.
The Hero Killer.
What is he doing in Musutafu? Izuku scans the streets quickly—there's no heroes or bodies or anything he should immediately worry about. Izuku shifts a little lower, keeping himself invisible still, getting a little closer to the villain below him. The Hero Killer looks like he's waiting for someone.
Oh.
He's waiting for me.
Izuku quietly lands behind Stain, but Stain moves faster. A dagger is pulled out from his belt, and thrown at Izuku's still invisible body. If it weren't for his quick reflexes, it would have nailed him in his shoulder. His invisibility drops, but he turns intangible, the weapon slicing right through it.
Stain turns, an evil grin plastered on his face.
"What do you want?" Izuku asks, narrowing his eyes, falling back into a more defensive position.
"Ah, the little ghost-boy himself. Phantom."
Izuku's stance tightens. His pulse quickens, but he doesn't let his guard slip. "What do you want, Stain?" He repeats.
"Nothing much." Stain replies coolly. "Just a little conversation. I've heard quite a bit about you. Interesting, isn't it? The 'vigilante' everyone's talking about these days." His voice carries a dark amusement that sends a shiver down Izuku's back. He takes a step forward, and Izuku takes a step back. "The one who's been cleaning up the streets. Still breathing, too. Quite impressive."
Actually, not breathing, I'm dead, Izuku bites back the urge to quip back. He stays still, keeping an eye on the Hero Killer's movements. His frown deepens a bit. "What's your point?"
Stain's gaze is haunting. It looks like he's pulling Izuku apart in his mind and trying to figure out how the pieces fit back together. One hand rests cooly on the hilt of one of the swords on his back, and the other, a tight fist at his side, ready to attack or block if Izuku moves first. But both of them know Izuku isn't the shoot first, ask questions later sort of hero. So, it's meant more to intimidate Izuku—a show of strength from Stain.
"You're different from the others." Stain eventually says. "You're not like all those other heroes, with their fancy masks and their showy acts. The ones that run society into the ground. But you? You've been doing the job they should be doing for them, with no reward in return. You keep the streets clean, you do things right."
Izuku's frown deepens a bit. "What's your point?" He asks, taking a step back.
Stain steps closer. "You're different from the others. You're not trying to be anything but yourself. But, tell me, kid—how long do you think you can keep this up?"
Izuku stays quiet.
Stain continues. "You can't fix a broken system by pretending it isn't broken, kid."
"I'm not pretending." Izuku retorts. "I'm just—I'm trying to focus on saving people. I don't care about the system."
"And you think that's enough?" Stain unsheaths one of his blades.
Izuku steps back again, kicking off the ground to float in the air. "I don't—I don't know, but—"
"You're just one kid, Phantom. One kid with a power you barely understand. How old are you, anyway? Twelve? Thirteen?"
Izuku doesn't respond.
"You're just playing a game you don't understand." Stain steps back, suddenly, smirking. "But what happens when it gets too hard? What happens when people die on you, kid? When someone kills in front of you? What happens when you realize… idealism isn't enough?"
A hot tear runs down Izuku's cheek, but he doesn't respond.
"You're an interesting kid, Phantom. You're brave. But naïve. You're going to break—or you'll become the thing you hate." Stain chuckles. "I'll be watching you. Let's see what you become."
And, just like that—Stain is gone.