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smerglemerg · 8 years ago

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Words: 6348 Chapters: 1/?? Language: English

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Shinsou Hitoshi, Todoroki Shouto, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Shigaraki Tomura, Sensei | All For One Relationships: Midoriya Izuku & Shinsou Hitoshi, Midoriya Izuku & Todoroku Shouto, Midoriya Izuku & Shigaraki Tomura, Midoriya Izuku & Yagi Toshinori | All Might Additional Tags: my spirit academia au, BASICALLY, me seeing how far i can go before someone asks me to tag body horror, also me seeing how far i can go before someone asks me to stop hurting izuku, but you know, ;), really tho, body horror don’t red if you don’t like it!!!!

Chapter One: Larger Than Life

Midoriya Izuku comes into the world silent. No screaming, no crying he’s silent and still and the doctors worry but he giggles at the sight of the small floating cat that hovers beside his mother. He cries and screams at the realisation he should not exist, cries because he does not get to experience helping someone guarding them with his entire being and giving them the weapons to protect themselves.

Midoriya Izuku comes into the world quiet at first, screaming later.

Izuku does not know how long ago it started, or even if it had “started” and not just always been like this; either way he stares blankly at his reflection, stares at the second skin that wraps around his body. He stares at the way it ripples around him, the hair like mane that curls like tendrils around him invisible to only himself and the spirits. Izuku observes the eyes that litter themselves across his shoulders, his arms; observes the way they hover above his skin wrapped in the translucence green that hug his body tightly.

Izuku thinks he might have had an observation quirk, an analytical and empathetic quirk by the way his eyes ripple and seem to smile when he writes his quirk analysis’. He thinks, he wonders what type of life he would have lived if he had not been born this way, without an extra toe joint, without a quirk. Izuku dreams of a life where he isn’t born with a second body wrapped over his flesh, eyes spread along his shoulders and arms like a disease; in a world where maybe he didn’t have crippling anxiety and wasn’t abused by the person he loves most outside of his family.

His green skin shifts and ripples, he hears his mother call for him downstairs, sighs at the mewls that emanate from his mother spirits. Izuku lives in a world where fantasy is the new reality, a world where people are born with supernatural abilities that are called “quirks” people believe that this is the next generation of evolution but all Izuku needs to do to disprove that is go outside. Humanity believes this is the next step in their evolutionary process.

Izuku resides in a world where 80% of it’s population is blessed with abilities that belong in fiction rather than reality, 30% of this population have abilities, “quirks”, as they’re called that are suited to the highly longed after job of being a hero. It is an unfortunate fact that out of these 30% only 10% can be considered hero material as the other 20% are either not strong enough or not equipped properly to be deemed heroic. Izuku goes to school everyday, Izuku sees the spirits that clutter up the space everyone else sees straight through that he should see straight through and laughs at humanity’s arrogance.

He snorts at the way they all scramble around and posture to each other, even as he drowns and suffocates all at once with the spirits that swarm his vision and scream in his face while they don’t even acknowledge him. Izuku can feel his energy drain, sees all the eyes on his arms close and breathes in new air as the spirits of people he doesn’t know disappear from his vision. His hair is a whorl of knots and despair, he stands in front of his mirror; his torso is a myriad of scars and burns and the sight of them drown him in fear and sorrow, lost hopes and dreams of a better world, a better reality.

Izuku wonders if he might become a villain one day, he shakes the thought off. It settles in his veins, constricts around his throat and greedily sucks up his energy.

Midoriya Izuku is in the process of heading to school when a villain starts to attack the nearby train station, he can not help but stop to watch, can not help but stop to see what heroes come to stop him. Izuku sees one hero directing traffic, another one is making sure no rubble makes it to civilians, he spots Kamui Woods and is unable to stop the babble that spews from his mouth. He is ensnared in this display, enraptured at the way heroes risk their lives but he bristles as Mount Lady crashes through the scene, flying through everyone’s blindspots.

Izuku growls low in his throat, snarls through the mouth on his second neck, howls through the empty maw on his stomach; his eyes roll back the whites scattered across his shoulders and arms, teeth are bared on his neck and on his stomach. His hair sharpens, curls up above his head the part of him that should not be was not supposed to be screams fury at the way this human rushes in full kilter and completely unaware of the way it physically hurts Kamui Woods to stop his Chain Lacquered Prison technique, ignorant to how it strains the connection between the hero and his guardian.

Izuku writes down notes on Mount Lady, sketches her in her horned costume, sketches her spirit that towers over her arms draped around her shoulders made up of stone and mountains with moss scattered across its mass. The man standing next to him gives a startled laugh, encourages him, says he will be rooting for him when he makes his debut; Izuku forcefully hides a flinch, drowns in all the spirits he can see, breathes in, replies and closes his eyes.

He arrives at school. His teacher brings up the topic of high school placement exams. Kacchan thrives of attention, and his spirit lays itself down around Izuku’s ankles, nose turned away from him demanding attention like the tigers human does the same. Izuku sighs softly, sinks into his seat and knows that the teacher will bring up his application to UA, if not to mock him then to turn a blind eye to the way his students abuse Midoriya Izuku simply because he appears to be quirkless even without an extra toe joint.

“Speaking of UA, didn’t Midoriya also apply to attend there?”

Fear’s hands caress him, wrap in a deceitfully gentle manner around his throat; Kacchan starts to yell, explosions flutter and scorches his desk. The fear drags him down, fills his throat with blood, makes his eyes bleed in pain, the empty maw on his stomach wails in terror and Izuku falls of off his seat.

“As if a useless quirkless no good screw up like you can get into UA, Deku!” Kacchan roars, explosions crackling to life and Izuku is never as terrified as when Kacchan’s anger is directed to him. Kacchan’s spirit rumbles, whether in amusement or distaste at his human’s actions Izuku does not know, his eyes are all open and he drowns in blood no one else can see. Scrambles away from his childhood friend, away from his abuser.

“I’m just trying Kacchan,” Izuku hates how his voice quivers, how his throat cries in fear and the gaping maw across his stomach howls for all spirits to hear his terror. “I don’t see how it harms anyone for me to just try, you don’t even know if I want to get into the general department or not!”

Izuku knows immediately he has said the wrong thing, sees it on his friends face, sees it with how the kind spirits around him flinch, how the ones that hate him for what he is what he could have been should have been grin and rumble with approval. Kacchan’s guardian flicks their tail dismissively and Izuku knows his friend will save the most painful things for after school, save the true wounds for when it can not be placed upon his record. He breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, he wishes he had never been born, he wishes he was normal.

Time passes and they eventually have to go back to class, the teacher can only look away for so long until serious harm threatens to appear. Izuku wonders what his world would be like if he had been born properly, stares down at his arms that he wraps up in bandages every day hoping that they will one day cover all the eyes that spread along his skin. He thinks in another world he would become a villain with this ability, he thinks he might have died in another world, perished as soon as he realised what he is what he isn’t.

Kacchan confronts him at the end of the day like Izuku knew he would, he spouts crap and shit that Izuku knows he doesn’t mean just by looking at the tiger regarding him with silent disdain, by looking at the dragon head of Kacchan’s guardian snorting and dismissing him. His friend abuser has always, always been his cruelest when trying to be kind, and in his words, his spiel and apparent disregard for Izuku’s safety he tries to protect the quirkless wonder that had once been his friend, had once encouraged him before their respective quirks appeared.

“You know what you should do fucking shitty Deku?” Kacchan sneers at him, his lackeys laugh. “You should go jump of off the roof and hope you get a quirk in your next life you useless piece of shit!”

Izuku knows his friend. Knows that Kacchan is trying to be kind, that in between the snarling and spitting anger Kacchan is terrified of him becoming a hero, him a quirkless freak in the midst of battle terrifies his friend who hides it behind anger and abuse. Izuku knows this as the facts they are and yet, still it burns in his chest, sets his heart aflame at the way Kacchan growls when he sees him; hurts in the way his best friend attacks him, burns him and scars him without even knowing. It hurts that no one will stand up to Kacchan, that they will never accuse him of the abuse Izuku knows intimately and remembers vividly at night when he lies awake unable to sleep but unable to write anything to make his feelings go away.

The thought slips into his mind, constricts his heart makes him weep blood from eyes unseen by humanity. A wail tears itself from the mouth on his throat, the gaping maw on his stomach howls despair at the words of his friend; eyes cry blood, mouths howl and snarl melancholy. Izuku gets up, brushes of the ash and dirt on his arms, his legs, his torso, smeared across his eyes, and tinging the green a murky brown colour that darkens while his eyes weep. He stands tall, alone in a room that rewards abuse, he exits his classroom and exits the school.

The sight of his notebook in the pond makes him frown, his eyes are open he is all by himself and never has he felt more suffocated or humiliated then he feels right now in this moment. Izuku takes a deep breathe, the eyes spread across his torso close, his hands drip blood but they are clean and wound free; he gathers up his soggy notebook, gathers up the shattered pieces of his heart he should have learned to stop giving by now. He breathes in, and out. Izuku starts in the direction of home, unease curls and settles in his gut like an old lover and he is wary of the way it makes his hair whorl and bristle, sharpening into steel blades.

He flattens the hair above his forehead subconsciously, it is as soft and normal as ever. There are steel blades curling up and around his head and Izuku can’t help but think Kacchan scares him more than whatever this feeling forebodes.

It comes to a head twenty minutes later after he has gathered all his stuff, dried his notebook and repaired it as best he could; he is passing through a tunnel the sound of rushing trains blaring overhead. Midoriya barely hears the sound of a the man plate rattling behind him, his hair locks into long steel beams; his eyes snap open, he whirls around heart pumping rapidly inside his chest. He can’t tell the villain apart from his spirit, it slips and slides and clings onto it’s human like a leech and Midoriya is frozen a second to long at the possibilities that presents.

“A medium sized body to hide in….” the villains muttering confirms several different quirk uses that had flashed through his brain, the villain is wrapping itself around his body before he can do anything. “Just 45 seconds kid, then I’m saved you’re a real hero you know? I never thought that he would ever show up in this town, there’s no bother trying that I’m made of liquid.”

Midoriya Izuku howls. He screams and snarls and spits vile liquid as his jaws clamp and tear through an unseen body, ripping it and spraying blood everywhere. His eyes are rolled up and back only the whites are showing, the steel blades that have replaced his hair whip and slice and attack; the villain feels pain but he does not know why. There is the taste of blood in his mouth, spinning in his stomach, dripping down his neck his arms his back it’s everywhere and his voices reaches a fever pitch as a swirling sun bursts out from the manhole the villain had came through earlier.

He thinks, he knows, who this is; All Might thrums a steady beat of centuries and generations crammed into one body Izuku has never seen because of how bright All Might’s spirit must be to glare golden yellow when he has all his eyes closed. He hears his hero attacking the villain, he can breathe suddenly and he gulps it in hungrily. He screams in pain at how bright All Might’s spirit is it burns, it scars, his eyes bleed and this time the black goo that cascades across his body is his own and not another’s; it seeps into his gaping maw, the stitched on mouth always opened at his throat. Midoriya stumbles, crumples, heaves and retches the taste of another spirits blood burned into his memory as his own bubbles up and drowns him twice over.

Midoriya hurls black bubbling tar, gag on the taste of a parasitic spirits blood that spreads and covers the concrete. He thinks it lands atop All Might’s shoes but can’t see past the glaring, blinding all consuming pulsing shifting mass that shifts and contracts and walks behind it’s human like an old friend that is so bright its like looking at the sun with his eyes closed but so so much worse. It crawls up his throat, scrapes its way through his body out his visible mouth; there is a hurricane of whispers and ideas and lost thoughts that makes it source behind his hero, a corpse is stuck inside his throat, bulging big it swirls and fights stretching his neck out as it tries to escape him.

Tar drags it back down his oesophagus lest it be seen by mortal eyes, he chokes and spits and heaves stomach acid and tar out of his mouth; a living corpse tears its way out of his stomach and he sobs at the pain. He can hear the way All Might frowns, sees him take his phone out even as Midoriya clenches his eyes closed to the point black stars burst behind his eyelids; feels his heroes bones shifting and grinding against each other as he speaks softly into the receiver. Two bottles of liquid are carefully kept in someone’s sight, time passes and shifts but all Izuku can hear and feel and see and taste is the spirit in his lungs in his throat climbing through his body.

Can hear the way it screeches agony at his panicked defence, feels how his hair slides so easily through liquid as hard as iron. The tar boils in his throat, drips a steady beat of death out his eyes; blood flows from his mouth his eyes his nose but Midoriya can not stop retching, heaving he is desperate to get the feeling of such complete and utter helplessness out of his mouth. The sound of tires shriek muffled in his ears, a hulking mass of liquid shifting gold slows and kneels in front of him it shapes and forms and takes the form of a woman whose hands slide in his chest and dislodge teeth and tongue and muscles that cling and remind him of what he done in his own defence.

A woman made out of golden liquid which shines to out rival the sun places her hands in his chest and helps in the way a man nearby wants to, the way Tsukauchi and Nedzu stand next to an emaciated man with a concave on his side and pray. She helps and the bones and rotted meat roll out of the throat on his mouth, tar spills out his mouth and he can feel the way they see it in how they breathe how their chest stutters and flutters in surprise and pity and disgust. Midoriya shakes and sways and is positively certain the tar is not black but brown because there is a man heaving in the background of his hazy hearing, sees blood gush out of a blond man’s mouth like a geyser in the view of golden clad spirit.

His vision swirls and shifts like he’s looking out of fifty eyes all at once and should it not be a concern that is more dizzying than the hundreds that litter themselves across his torso. He shudders, golden hands enfold over his shoulders; slink under his arms and pull him up like a marionette, he stumbles into golden plated arms and is rightend. Midoriya opens his eyes, stares into softly glowing eyes the colour of silver, golden hair floating gently above a pair of broad shoulder as half of it is tied up into a bun; he can see the impression of black beneath the gold that bathes her and wonders if this is the person who had All Might’s quirk before him? She flickers, glitches and is briefly replaced by an old man with grey tinted hair and crinkling green eyes that smile at him through the centuries.

Midoriya sways slightly, breathes in slowly, turns around while he clutches his head in pain at the way it throbs from his ordeal. Some of his eyes are sealed shut with black liquid others eyelids are glued open with the fluid. In front of him stands a man he knows as Tsukauchi Naomasa, a detective that’s friends with All Might; his spirit hovers behind him, a blank mannequin with a heart monitor for a mouth that is beating to the tune of Midoriya’s heart. They want to know what happened but Midoriya can not answer that, does not know how to answer that without telling the truth. Without telling them he is an abomination, spilling the world of spirits to them, informing them that he has hundreds of eyes spread across his torso and three mouths with long hair that can turn to steel at a moment’s notice.

Does not know how to avoid mentioning the way the back of his knees sometimes open up as eyes or rows upon rows of teeth, is incapable of avoiding the detailed description of how his black splits open and tentacle like feelers unfurl to judge the emotions of those around him. Thinks of all these thing, his eyes and his mouths and his calves that shift from pupils to teeth to skin; thinks of the way his back splits open at random intervals and how his hair sharpens into a needle point. Midoriya is terrified to think of his appearance, abhors looking in the mirror and seeing the constant reminders of what he was supposed to be, what he was supposed to be born as; the reminders that he lost his chance at guiding a human through their life and he feels sick again.

Midoriya Izuku walks unsteadily forward, eyes unseeing; heart rate like a dying rabbit and with the aura of a god as he collapses on his knees, falls down and breathes out as he loses consciousness. Infinite light and power made up of gold and the aspirations of generations smiles down at the boy their current wielder has chosen and laughs at the thought of All for One winning against him.

Midoriya Izuku wakes up to the sight of a blue white black ceiling, wakes up to the smell of musty air and old paper that has been filed away, the taste of blood and tar is gone from within his mouth. He blinks, lethargically, he wonders if they drugged him in case he panicked upon waking up; there is a soft beeping as a small heart monitor hums along to the tune of his soul. A white face hovers above his head, a body twisted and curled up behind it like a cat; the beat upon the spirit’s lips is different this time, Midoriya thinks it might copying its charges song. There is a shuffling noise in the background that slowly returns to his ears, he can hear a door being shoved open and muttering about broken doorknobs.

Midoriya wonders why they would place him in a cell without a proper lock, blinks as the thought registers and shrugs it away. Pushes himself up on his arms, slips and his heart leaps into his throat, the monitor copies but he is caught by long muscled arms; someone that smells of coffee, old paper and something that whispers and niggles in the back of his brain the truth. His sight is still blurry at best, the mannequin flips and hangs itself of the shoulders of the man who had caught him. Midoriya looks up into the eyes of Detective Tsukauchi and wonder if this is about All Might’s true form, wonders if this is about the appearance of a man he can not even see because of how much his spirit outshines him.

“I can’t, can’t my vision has not returned yet,” he speaks softly, dryly and wonders if it will be like this forever but knows it is not so in the way his vision is slowly clearing out.

“May I please have some water?” Midoriya does not ask why he is still in their company, Tsukauchi offers no answers. Midoriya is handed a glass of water and can not help but spitefully wonder if he is about to be interrogated because of circumstances he would rather have never happened.

Tsukauchi Naomasa sits back down in his chair, leans forward on his elbows and cradles his face in the palms of his hand. Silently he wonders where Toshinori if, his friend is much much better at talking to children, to fans and the press and family members of those that know his secret but whose family are blind to it. Sighs into his hands, covertly watching the young boy sitting on his office couch hooked up to a small heart monitor, Midoriya Izuku age 14, quirkless and the kid his friend decided to lump One for All on. Tsukauchi can see it on Midoriya’s face, the poor boy thinks he is going to be interrogated because he was unfortunate enough to be attacked by the villain All Might was after near the end of his three hour limit.

His hands twitch, face contorts into a frown; Toshinori had left soup in the stations fridge before he left and told him not to eat it while he went to explain the situation to Midoriya’s mother. Tsukauchi can see how the kid is shaking, its barely there like he is used to being bullied over being cold; he thinks his friend would not mind if his soup disappeared to keep the boy warm and awake. As he stands up Tsukauchi can not help but shed his coat and drape it over the green haired munchkin, he smiles at the squawk of surprise it gets from the kid. Five minutes later he comes back with a steaming cup of soup, and a mug full of coffee for himself.

Sits across from Midoriya and gently places the cup in front of him, gives him a look that Toshinori regularly called his mothering look (that all his coworkers agreed with). Waits until Midoriya reaches for the soup and carefully grabs the hand they had attached the monitor too; wary of the scrapes and bruises the boy had gotten when he’d panicked after Muddy had tried to take his body. Moves slowly, makes his motions obvious and clear as he removes the device from the boy’s wrist, leans forward to gather it up before leaving the room temporarily to place the machine away. When he gets back Midoriya is blowing softly on his soup and taking small sips, shoulders and torso drowning in Tsukauchi’s coat that swallows the freckled child up.

“You were panicking rather badly last night Midoriya,” he starts in a quiet tone, no pity in his eyes and no sympathy in his voice. “The medics wanted to place you in a cell but Toshinori and myself figured that would just escalate your panic upon awakening. They compromised on us placing you on my office couch if we hooked you up to a heart monitor to make sure you were still breathing.”

“….. Thank you for the soup Tsukauchi-san,” Midoriya replies just as softly as him. “And thank you for the water earlier, I apologise for beginning to panic; but, I must ask where is my mother? Why isn’t she here right now?”

“We informed your mother of yesterday’s afternoon incident,” Tsukauchi grimaces at his wording. “You’ve seen All Might’s true form and because of what Toshinori wants to do with you he has decided to go explain everything to your mother before asking you anything.”

“What do you mean by that?” Midoriya blurts out, shifting and panicked, what he wants to do with me? What does Tsukauchi-san mean by that? What would All Might even want with a quirkless fuck up like himself?

“All Might was born quirkless, his quirk named One For All was given to him be the previous user Shimura Nana. It is a quirk that accumulates strength with each person that receives it, do you understand?” The boy looks shocked but Tsukauchi can not blame him, he too would be shocked in this situation. “Toshinori wants to give you his quirk, I don’t know his reasoning behind this; maybe its because of those hero analysis notebooks you had in your bag maybe it’s just because he sees some of himself in you.”

“All I know right now is that Toshinori has gone to explain the situation to your mother alongside the circumstances of his quirk and the training he would have to place you through if she gives her permission for you to receive it.” Tsukauchi gives a helpless sort of shrug, “of course he will ask whether or not you want it after getting permission from Inko-san.”

Midoriya’s instinctive reaction to this knowledge is to ask for a picture, ask what Shimura Nana looked like and if she is the woman made of gold from before that had helped him. He bites his lip, chews the insides of his mouth to stop the request from coming out; makes it look like he is processing the information handed to him, which he is but the possibilities whirl through his mind rapidly. He wonders if the previous user joins the maelstrom of spirits that make up All for One before or after they die, the thought itches at his brain; demands he find out, dictates he should ask the quirks made up of generations.

Midoriya and Tsukauchi sit together in silence made from their mutual unease and worry of the situation, Midoriya wonders silently how the detective sitting in front pf him and the hero at his apartment would react to the knowledge of how he is an abomination. They sit together in silence, wait in silence until Midoriya Inko and Yagi Toshinori the man better known as All Might arrive to tell them whether or not Midoriya Izuku will be allowed to train for a chance to gain One For All.

Midoriya Inko and Yagi Toshinori arrive together, one teary and fearful looking, the other solemn in the face of a mothers grief. Midoriya Izuku can tell by the look on his mothers face she has agreed to let him take All Might’s quirk if he so wishes too, can see it in the way the golden light seems to dance around his hero and the floating cat that trails after his mother purrs, wrapped around her throat in comfort she can’t see. One For All flutters around their current human, dances to a beat only a multitude of generations can hear and dances across the room to drape itself over Izuku’s shoulders; he blinks blinded, but other than that he has no visible reaction other than that, he listens to the conversation and the legal jargon the adults throw around. He understands them, after years and years of study laws regarding heroes and being interested in other laws he can understand them.

He listens, and accepts when he is offered One For All. Generations of heroes laugh, and dance and twirl around the room their glow blinding and the volume of their voice reaching a fever pitch deafening him. Izuku smiles, and braces himself for whats to come.

It happens while he’s on the afternoon run through the city, he is passing through the tunnel in which Muddy had tried to steal his body when Bakugou grabs him out of nowhere; the dual faced spirit seems to laugh at how it pains him, how it crushes and tears the feelers in his back apart until the black tar like blood drips down his back even as he stares into crimson eyes that terrify him utterly and completely. His mind flashes back to a time where he was declared quirkless and his friend abuser attacked him mercilessly without knowing that it would kill him, without understanding that and then proceeding to get no lecture or punishment for it because clearly it was just Midoriya’s jealousy talking after all there had been a fire at their school the week he’d been placed in hospital why was he trying to blame the burn scars on the innocent Bakugou?

His pulse races, he can feel his heart lodge itself inside his throat and his eyes are open wide with pupils dilated; blood dirties the back of his clothes and pools around his ankle but only he and the scaled tiger that slips through their legs can see the damage this blonde human is doing to him. Midoriya sucks in a quick breathe, he is being pushed roughly against the brick wall and Bakugou has practically lifted him of the ground the idea it will happen again makes him panic and react. His leg lashes out, connects with Bakugou’s groin and the striped dragon purrs dark amusement at how the scurrying humans grapple against each other; one to escape and the other to cause as much pain as possible before someone comes across them and he can try to say he’d been about to call an ambulance.

Midoriya lands a lucky hit that makes his friend abuser stumble and fall and he scurries away as fast as he can, bursts into the streets in a frantic pace his feet thudding against the pavement in a cacophony that showcases his fear. The sight of spirits flood him, drown him and he forces his eyes closed in the panic even as his breaths get shorter and shorter as he runs away, away, away from his old friend his constant abuser; he skids around a corner, darts across the street and heads towards a The Cat Orchid cafe that tolerates no abuse, hoping and praying to reach it before Bakugou could catch up with him. Midoriya Izuku screeches to a stop as his brain registers the sight of someone entering, but he’s going to fast, moving too quickly and he slams into them; trips over and rolls, eyes screwed shut but with the contact he can see the life like string puppet type spirit that appears to have a mimes makeup scheme.

He is speechless, flushed by exertion and embarrassment as he stares up into violet blue eyes, pale scrappy skin and bags that drag underneath the stranger’s eyes. Midoriya isn’t sure whether his heart is pounding from fear or embarrassment or attraction to this person who had accidentally saved him when they had crashed into each other; or more accurately Midoriya had crashed into him. Neither of them have time to properly process the accident when Bakugou come hurdling over, snarl on his face and anger in his spittle and Midoriya can not stop the desperate whimper filled with terror that slips through his vocal chords. It’s as clear as day how this action saves him and gains him a friend by the way both human and spiritual eyes narrow in barely concealed anger at what his tone implied.

The blue haired, violet blue eyed stranger helps him up; purposely ignores the way it makes his friend froth at the mouth and only turn around to face the blonde when he makes sure the boy that’d slammed into him is okay. Shinsou’s expression is positively frosty and it is no wonder in this moment why people immediately associate his quirk with villains and evil, it agitates him, disgusts him at the pure unadulterated fear in the green eyed boys tenor at the sound of this blonde and he wonders what the relationship between the crimson eyed male and the boy behind him is. His eyes are narrowed and the bags around them are more pronounced, he is unable to see the way a dual faced spirit and his own circle each other, snarl and spit and hiss derogatory terms at one another that only one of the three can hear and understand.

“Get out of my way you piece of shit!” Bakugou nearly growls into Shinsou’s face and he is in no way inclined to do as the asshole standing in front of him demands; especially when he stands like he should automatically be listened too.

“Pardon? What did… you say?” Shinsou drawls quietly, and unseen his spirit’s eyes start to twirl and a puppets cross appears above Bakugou. He can’t help but silently think of the different ways he could make this foul human being make a fool of himself, but a glance behind him stops Shinsou and makes him let out an inaudible sigh instead.

“I told you to move out of my fucking way you stupid goddamn idiot!” Bakugou barks roughly, and his eyes widen with pure rage as his limbs lock down on him and the blue themed boy smile.

“I think you should leave us alone, piss off would you?” Shinsou’s tone belies his statement. His smile is more bared teeth than a look of pleasure and the expression is obvious by the way Bakugou snarls uselessly as his body betrays him and heads far away from the cafe they stand outside of. Shinsou turns around fully expecting and accepting the inevitable disgust on the green haired boy’s face but all he sees is gratitude alongside a slight look of awe; needless to say it is the exact opposite of what he is prepared for and it shows with how he fumbles over his words.

“You, uh urm you were going inside? Would you like to join me,” he ventures uneasily, relaxing at the beaming grin it gets him in return. This is a pleasant surprise and Shinsou is unable to lie to himself when he thinks about how peaceful and flattering this male’s face is upon finding out about his quirk. “Ah, my name is Shinsou Hitoshi by the way. I suppose you could or can call me Hitoshi if you want or either it really doesn’t matter to me.”

“My name is Midoriya Izuku, would it really be okay if I joined you? I mean I did just inconvenience you and indirectly made you chase Kacchan away plus by the look on your face you probably came here to escape people telling you how disgusting or foul your quirk is but! I was wondering have you ever thought about becoming a hero? Or even a detective or police officer!” He rambles excitedly, bouncing along his heels as he follows Shinsou inside the cafe regardless of his words.

“You could help so many people! You could stop villains in their tracks because they would respond without realising who you were and if you were a police officer you could get information out of criminals without any trouble because they would not be able to resist your quirk without outside influence!”

Shinsou grins and laughs as his new friend Midoriya continues babbling along and unknowingly lifting his mood, it may have been an accident and the circumstances unfortunate and had preferably not have happened but Shinsou can not help but be silently thankful his green haired, green eyed companion had crashed into him. A smile curls up on his lips, he feels at peace and relaxed, sitting in this out of the way cat cafe with his new found friend; letting out a small sigh the last of his tension slips out his body as a few of the cats make their way towards the two teenagers. Shinsou privately thinks to himself that telling Midoriya he has thought about being a hero, has dreamed and planned on becoming a hero since his childhood could wait until the boys rant had powered down. As he waits he smiles softly, and soaks up all the warmth Izuku and the cats offer him unconditionally.

#pushing up daises #bnha #gift for simkjrs #mine #my spirit academia

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