FIC - “Kill the Ghost” Chapter 2

A/N: YAY, HI KACCHAN. His magic power is being so hot that he distracts Izuku from actual life altering dilemmas.

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CHAPTER TWO

A girl with spiky blond pigtails pointed a finger directly at Izuku. "It's that one."

The boy with her—tall and broad with dark hair—gave Shouto a cursory glance before addressing Izuku. "What's your guild name?"

Izuku and Shouto shared equally baffled looks. Were these guys LARPers or something?

The girl with the pigtails rested a hand on her hip and leaned toward Shouto, pink tongue poking out from the corner of her mouth. "What's your name?" she asked.

Shouto, who had the uncanny ability to remain unfazed by just about anything, blinked once and said nothing.

The girl’s cheeks flushed. "You got a problem?"

"What's the name of your guild?" the boy repeated, his words edged with impatience now.

"My guild's name?" Izuku repeated, confused by the entire interaction. "I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about."

"We’re not asking again," the boy said, voice rising. He reminded Izuku of the rugby players at school—too much competition, not enough anger management.

“Great,” Izuku said agreeably.

Sneering, the boy raised his hand, palm out and fingers splayed as if pushing against an invisible surface.

Discomfort skittering across Izuku's skin. He was suddenly short of breath, the air vibrating in his chest as if trapped within a closed drum. He tried to breathe in and couldn't. He clutched his neck, alarmed at the dry gasps issuing from his throat. What was happening?

"Izuku, what's wrong?" Shouto grasped his shoulders. Eri buried her face in Izuku's shirt, cowering against his back.

"Not very impressive, is he?" the boy said.

Shouto turned on the strangers. "What the hell do you want?"

"Mind your own business—we’re not interested in you."

Their voices sounded dim. Izuku felt lightheaded, like he was standing at a great height, the air too thin to draw a full breath. He looked up in time to see the boy push Shouto aside. Bad idea.

Shouto responded in kind, shoving the boy hard enough that he tripped over his own heel, knocking into the girl. Both strangers began shouting, and Izuku gritted his teeth as the discomfort intensified into physical pain.

"Oy! What’s going on here?!"

The pain receded. Air rushed back into Izuku's lungs just as his vision began to spot. Legs rubbery, he stumbled before righting himself. The strangers had gone silent. Izuku blinked to focus his vision.

"What were you doing to him?" asked a new voice, low and gravelly and sharp with irritation.

Izuku opened his mouth to defend Shouto, but the newcomer must not have been addressing him, because the boy with dark hair said, "Nothing. We were just messing around."

He and his friend backed away, glaring down at their feet, heads bowed like dogs before an angry master.

Shouto touched Izuku's shoulder. "You okay?"

Izuku nodded and tried for an encouraging smile. When Shouto didn't look mollified, Izuku took a moment to evaluate. He did feel fine, as if a moment ago, he hadn't been bent over, chest aching from the lack of air. He didn't know what to make of it.

"Ketsubutsu’s got no business here. Get lost," the new boy said with a jerk of his head. The motion drew Izuku's eye, and he looked at him properly.

He couldn't have been older than him, with spiky blond hair the color of wheat. Their eyes met—red, but not like Eri’s. His were sharp and bright as a cut gem, as sunlight against the sharp edge of a bloody knife. It sent shivers down Izuku’s spine, and he swallowed thickly, his heart pounding in his ears.

The two who’d accosted them didn't even look Izuku's way before scurrying to obey. They darted across the street and disappeared around the corner.

"Hey," the blond boy said to Izuku, one pale eyebrow raised.

He was… really pretty. From the shape and color of his eyes to his sharp jaw and soft mouth, he was possibly the prettiest boy Izuku had ever seen. When he only continued to stare dumbly, the boy’s lips quirked in visible irritation. Then he thrust out his hand between them.

Izuku reached for it because, even though he was confused as hell, when a hot guy wanted to shake his hand, he damn well shook it.

"We're from UA,” he said, as if that was supposed to mean something to Izuku.

The blond boy and his companion, who’d so far not spoken a word, were a weird pair. He was dressed in a black school uniform, the jacket unbuttoned to reveal a plain black tank beneath rather than a standard white button up. It provided an attractive frame for his neck and collarbones, and the swell of rather generous pecs.

Oh my god, Izuku.

Refocusing, he completed his perusal of the boy at his uniform pants which hung low over narrow hips. The entire getup was nondescript, giving no indication of which high school he attended.

His companion (friend? schoolmate?) stood removed, his hands tucked into his pockets. He had dark eyes and dark hair, and he wore the same school uniform as the blond’s, only more neatly. The jacket was properly buttoned up over a typical white shirt.

Neither of them looked particularly threatening. Why had those other two been afraid of them?

The blond crossed his arms, expression growing ever stormier. Then he leaned in, angled his nose into the air and sniffed at him.

"Bakugou." His friend sounded amused. "Stop messing with him. I can smell him from over here."

"I don't smell," Izuku said, indignant. He turned his head and took an experimental whiff, just in case, but couldn't smell anything other than his detergent and a little sweat. Maybe he should have showered last night after his run.

"You damn well know that Sero isn’t talking about your BO,” the blond said gruffly.

The other boy, Sero, said, "I meant your magic."

At this point, Shouto interrupted, to Izuku's relief, because he had to take a moment to mentally rewind his words and make sure he'd heard right. Had he gone to sleep and woken up in an alternate universe where horned girls popped out of nowhere and unreasonably attractive boys scared off weirdly aggressive LARPers before insulting his body odor and accusing him of having magic?

"Get out of our way," Shouto said, his voice a low growl. He would have shoved past them, but Sero stepped directly into their path.

If the way Shouto’s hands balled into fists was any indication, someone was about to get their teeth knocked in. Despite being on terrible terms, Shouto’s father was a powerful man with powerful enemies and had raised his son to one day succeed him. That meant on top of being groomed to become a corporate leader, he’d also been training in several different forms of martial arts and weapons since he was old enough to walk.

He hated having to actually use those skills, though, claiming he wanted nothing to do with what had been given to him by his father.

"UA needs to know what happened last night,” Sero said. To his (very small) credit, he sounded apologetic about it.

Last night? A pit began to form in Izuku’s gut as he looked at Eri.

"It'd be great for all of us if you cooperate." Sero’s smile took on a harder edge, and Izuku quickly reassessed him. Neither of these two should be underestimated, even if he was confident Shouto could knock them both on their asses without much effort.

"We don’t got all day," the blond boy said. "So just tell us what we need to know, and then we can all go the fuck home."

“I’m sorry,” Izuku said, finding that he meant it, “but I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Last night—or early this morning, I guess—there was a surge of magic in this area,” Sero said. “There’s no denying that you’re the cause.”

“You sound crazy. You realize this, right?” Izuku said, resolutely not looking at Eri who was hiding her face (and her horn, thank god) in the back of his shirt. “You can hear yourself?”

As much as he wanted to find out what was going on, and as much as he wanted to ask the blond boy for his name and number, he couldn’t afford to get involved with whatever they were talking about. All he needed to do was turn the girl over to the police and then get back to his dad. Toshinori was all that mattered. He couldn’t make things harder on either of them, not when he wasn’t sure how much time he had left with his dad.

“Tch.” The blond boy’s nose wrinkled a little as he regarded Izuku. “Nah. It’s definitely you. It’s no use lying, Freckles.”

A conflicting jolt of defensive anger and embarrassment shot through Izuku. "No,” he said slowly, like he was speaking a different language. “I'm not lying."

“What do you think lying is gonna get you?” the blond asked, sneering, stepping closer until he was almost toe to toe with Izuku.

Oh, no, Izuku thought. He was probably going cross eyed, but that didn’t stop him from admiring how smooth the blond’s skin was, how soft his hair looked despite the spikiness, or how amazing he smelled.

A hand grabbed his arm, yanking him back. In an instant, Shouto had taken his place, expression pinched with fury.

“Get out of his face,” he all but snarled.

“You better get out of mine real fast, you half and half bastard.” Although the blond spoke casually, the warning was clear in his rumbling voice.

"You're crazy," Shouto spit. "And your buddy here is crazy, and you need to fuck off before I put my fist in your face."

"Shouto." Izuku rested a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Leave it."

Something about these two had freaked out the others enough for them to run away without a word of protest. There was more here than either he or Shouto understood, and getting into a brawl with them wouldn’t help.

“Okay, okay, let’s all just calm down,” Sero said, attempting to separate Shouto from his friend.

Izuku wasn’t sure what it was, but seeing this stranger with friendly eyes that didn’t match his voice reaching for Shout…. It put Izuku on edge, and something inside him jerked—

He raised one hand in a placating gesture and addressed Sero, “Hey, that’s enough. Stop.”

Sero’s eyes went wide. Then they rolled back, and he slumped to the ground.

Shouto and Izuku froze. The blond caught him around the shoulders, easing him down to avoid bashing his head against concrete.

Then the air rushed from Izuku's lungs as the blond slammed him up against an electric pole. Pain burst across his shoulder blades and down his spine, and something cold and thin pressed into the underside of his jaw.

"The fuck did you do to him, magus?" the blond asked, voice lowered to a dangerous growl.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Izuku hissed through his teeth, pushing ineffectually at the other boy’s shoulders. How was he so damn strong? "Get off me!"

"Bakugou." On the ground, Sero was sitting up. He groaned, eyes spearing Izuku as he regained his feet. "What happened?"

With a final sneer, Bakugou relented and removed the blade from Izuku's throat. Izuku didn't move, eyes tracking the fancy dagger in his hand. The blade shone golden, translucent like it was made from glass and sunlight.

He eased away from the pole, but didn't make it far before Shouto gripped his chin. He wrenched Izuku's head back to check his neck.

Izuku elbowed him away. "I’m fine."

"Are you wearing your amulet?" Bakugou demanded, grasping Sero’s wrist and hauling him to his feet.

"Of course I am," Sero grumbled. He brushed off his uniform with angry, jerky movements.

"Then how could he have done that?!"

Sero angled Izuku a resentful look. "I don’t know! He shouldn’t have!”

“Fuck,” Bakugou spat. “He might be telling the truth. Damned idiot doesn't know anything."

Bakugou gave them a hard look. Izuku tightened his grip on Shouto's arm to keep him from doing something stupid, like charging a lunatic with a knife. Why did it always have to be the pretty ones?

"Unbelievable." Bakugou slid his weapon into a slim sheath at his waist. Izuku hadn't noticed it before, hidden beneath the fall of his jacket.

When Sero turned to them again, his smile was wary but warm. "We got off to a bad start. Let’s try again. My name is Sero Hanta, and this surly guy is Bakugou Katsuki.

Izuku gave them both an incredulous look. "You're insane."

Snagging Shouto's arm, he turned on his heel and took off down the street with Eri still latched to his shirt.

+++

"We're being followed," Shouto said.

"I know."

Izuku tried not to look over his shoulder. Shouto had no such reservations and glared back at the two every few minutes.

"In here." Izuku gestured to the glass storefront of a café. They ducked inside. An ice cream parlor took up the first floor, glass display cases set against cheery red walls. An employee behind the counter called out a greeting, and Izuku gave him a quick nod.

Straight ahead, a staircase led to the second level. Izuku drew a deep breath. The scent of fresh coffee mixed with the aroma of baked goods and sugary sweets was comforting.

Eri pressed her face to the window, the tip of her horn poking out between the messy fall of her hair. "I don't see them," she said.

Shouto frowned at her. "We should hurry and get to the Koban."

"This way," Izuku said.

Outside, Bakugou and Sero stepped into view, pausing on the sidewalk in front of the café. Izuku motioned Shouto and Eri toward the staircase. That uncomfortable feeling returned, stinging his skin. His feet stumbled on the steps, and Shouto caught his arm.

At the top of the landing, a sitting area was arranged in front of a glass door that led farther into the café.

"Do you hear anything?" Izuku whispered. Eri shook her head.

The lights flickered, and then dimmed. Shadows unfurled across the floor. Izuku inched forward to see past the landing and froze.

Huddled on the top step was a monster he could imagine crouched on the parapet of some medieval fortress. It looked like a cross between a huge crow and a toad, standing on knobby legs and broad feet, wings rustling at its back. Through the creature's body, he could make out the pattern of the carpet.

"Shit," Izuku muttered. Now really wasn't the time.

The monster's gash of a mouth opened, issuing a high breathy whine that made Izuku's hair stand on end. "Little magus," it rasped.

That was new.

Izuku shuffled backward and almost tripped on his own feet. They'd never spoken to him before.

"Izuku?" Shouto asked, but Izuku didn't dare look away.

"What is that thing?" Eri whispered.

At that, Izuku couldn’t help the way his head whipped around, jaw falling slack. She could see it, too?!

"I hunger," the creature said, drawing his attention once more. Its face contorted as if just speaking was a torment. "Offer me... the blood of trees. Offer me the dust of stars." It lumbered forward. "Offer me the weight of a memory."

There was movement on the staircase. A moment later, Bakugou appeared and then came up short when he saw the creature. And there was no mistaking that he was looking at its translucent body, cowering from the light that shone in through the windows.

Looking nonplussed, Bakugou removed his dagger, twirled it neatly in his palm, and pointed the blade at the creature. "This magus is under the protection of the UA Guild," he said. "Seek your bindings elsewhere."

The creature made a pitiful, screeching sound and then vanished.

Izuku braced his weight against the wall to keep from sliding to the floor. Scanning the small sitting area to check for other apparitions, he caught his reflection in the window glass. He looked washed of color, his hair stark under the bright display lights. His eyes, wide and startled, were shards of green, too bright against his pale face.

"I’m so confused," Shouto said, sounding a little defeated.

"You're not a magus," Bakugou said, looking down his nose at him. "You can’t sense magic or see anima." He jerked his chin toward the lower level. "Come on. Let's talk outside."

"So they're real," Izuku mumbled, more so to himself than the others. He followed Bakugou down the stairs, his mind reeling and scrambling for answers. Shouto stomped after them.

Eri shuffled alongside him, glaring at Bakugou’s back. "Stop bullying Izuku," she muttered under her breath. “Meanie.”

Despite the situation, Izuku smiled.

Outside, Sero looked between Izuku and Bakugou. "What happened?"

"Anima," Bakugou said.

Shouto's fingers dug into Izuku's arm. "Izuku, I thought we were trying to get away from the psychopaths?"

"How’s it possible you don't know what you are?" Bakugou asked in a way that suggested he thought Izuku was an idiot.

Given that Izuku was now willing to listen to the pretty weirdo with a knife, Bakugou might just be right.

"A magus' magic is his life,” Sero said. “Can't you feel it?"

"Forget that for a minute," Izuku said, putting up a hand to cut him off. "Tell me what that thing was." He turned to Bakugou. "You saw it. You spoke to it."

"It was an anima. Extras like Half-and-Half here would call them demons.”

Sero nodded. “It must have been seeking a tamer.”

"What does that even mean?" Izuku whined, cupping his head.

"There was a demon in there?" Shouto scoffed. "Like horns and a tail?"

"Sometimes," Katsuki said, smirking meanly. There was something very wrong with Izuku for thinking that it was hot. "But they aren’t evil or benevolent or whatever else you extras have come up with. They're just spirits."

"Like ghosts?" Izuku didn't believe in ghosts either, but the monsters were always kind of see-through.

"No," Sero began, but Bakugou cut him off.

"If you really don't know, then come with us," he said. "It’s easier to just show you."

Izuku didn't know what to believe. I hunger, the creature had said.

He imagined multitudes of those creatures swarming outside his bedroom window, a quivering mass of black wings blotting out the meager light from the street lamp. At his other side, Eri’s hands tightened around his forearm.

"You've seen them before," Sero said. It wasn't a question.

Izuku nodded anyway. If nothing else, it was a relief to know he wasn't crazy.

He looked down at Eri, her skinny fingers bunched around the hem of his shirt. She tipped her head to the left, her horn just visible behind all that silvery hair, and peered up at him with huge, unnatural eyes.

He couldn't explain the odd kid or the pain he'd felt more often today than he had in months. But even knowing the monsters weren't hallucinations, he didn't know how to accept what these people were telling him. The only magic he knew existed in fiction. He'd seen it. His dad had wielded his pen like a wand, spinning straw into gold, threading words into tapestries that hung in Izuku's mind, heavy and evocative.

"About before with the, uh, dagger—my friend was just protecting me. He's sorry."

Bakugou didn't look sorry.

"Come with us. Madam would want to meet you."

"Last night," Bakugou said, "something happened. You can quit denying it. Every magus in the city felt it."

What did he want Izuku to say? Logic told him it was impossible. But logic had never had anything to do with the monsters that crouched in the shadows, reaching for him with gnarled hands and webbed fingers.

Beside him, Eri tapped her sandals against the pavement, looking ridiculous in his clothes. She was evidence enough that something had happened last night, magical or not.

"I can see your hesitation," Sero said. "Think about it. Why would we lie about this?"

"No one needs a reason to lie."

Bakugou gave an impatient huff. "Fine then."

There it was again—that feeling that had the hairs on the back of Izuku’s neck standing at full attention. It didn't hurt this time, but it had him stiffening his spine and looking around without any idea of what he expected to find.

"You can feel it."

His gaze jerked back to Bakugou.

"Magic, when used, can be felt by any magus close by. Afterward, it's impossible to track unless you're a seeker like me. What you felt just now was my magic seeking out yours." He scoffed. “Can’t believe the power last night was yours. You look like a clueless nerd.”

"You don't believe any of this, do you?" Shouto asked, looking increasingly crazed.

"You don't have to believe anything we say, Extra," Bakugou said.

Izuku ignored their bickering and stared down at his feet and the fine cracks that fissured the pavement. He needed to deal with Eri and get back to his dad. He needed to get away from these people who claimed to possess magic and carried large knives. If he could keep his uncle from finding out, then there would be no need to accept that anything strange had happened at all.

Except...

There were questions now he never in a million years expected to be posed, and the answers to those questions and more were right there in front of him, if he was willing to look.

And maybe a small, tiny, minuscule, barely there part of him also wanted to know more about this Bakugou Katsuki.

Izuku drew a deep breath. "If I go with you, you have to promise—"

"Hold on a second," Shouto said. "Who said you're going anywhere with them? That guy put a knife to your throat."

"I know," Izuku said steadily. "It was my throat." He raked a hand through his hair before taking Shouto's arm. "I need a moment." He dragged Shouto a short ways down the sidewalk. Eri followed, the soles of her too-big sandals slapping against the ground.

"This better be about how you plan to ditch—"

"You asked earlier what I was hiding from you."

Shouto's mouth snapped shut. He frowned, waiting.

Izuku looked down at Eri, at the question in her eyes. He whispered, "I think I dreamed about you."

She smiled happily and nodded.

Judging by the look on Shouto's face, his friend didn't get it. "What do you mean?"

"Why do you think I was freaking out this morning?"

"Because you had a strange kid in your room?"

"That's not what I mean."

"I don't understand how the kid's issues have anything to do with you."

Shouto didn't understand. He'd never seen the monsters. He'd never felt that awareness—that certainty that something was there if only he knew how and where to look.

Now, everything from finding the girl in his room to the anima on the staircase pointed him toward the answers this UA Guild might be able to give him. He had to see this through.

TBC

A/N: Seriously, Izuku, FOCUS.

Chapter 3 will be posted next Friday! And we’ll get some (but certainly not all) answers 😘 Who knows, Izuku might even get Katsuki’s number (or maybe not?).