Summary:

Ichijorei runs from a problem.

Izuku runs towards one.

The grey soul before me is mangled, twisted, and crushed into a pulp. It is in such a state of ruin that there is no way to perceive its original form. Is it even whole or is part of it missing?

I cannot tell.

The body I am taking it from is a twisted grey thing with leather wings and exposed brain matter. At first glance it may appear to be a strangely quirked human. But then I look into its eyes and see how… empty it is. Not dead, nor alive. Just… blank. What is stranger still is how it is obviously dead. The soul floats away from its body, held down only by a single thread. And yet air shifts in its lungs, a beat thumps in its heart, blood flows in its veins.

It cannot be human.

But it must have been, for my purpose is only to reap human souls. This soul is my appointment, a beacon leading me here. Therefore if there was not something human entwined into this mess of a soul, then I would not be here. Yet... the feel of this creature seems more monster than anything human.

I think back to the Thief who I had just left and curse that being once more. This is the Thiefs doing. I know it.

I cut the white thread, freeing the soul from the grotesque body it was bound to. I am disturbed to see how the body does not even flinch; still breathing, heart still beating, blood still flowing within its body. There is something greatly wrong with this undead beast.

As for the soul, the moment it is free it begins falling apart. I watch in fascination as the soul literally tears itself apart, pieces breaking off and parts twisting away. The beacon which drew me here splits apart with the pieces, fractioning into smaller points of focus until my single appointment turns into multi layered job. As the soul comes undone, I realise with a sinking feeling that this one soul was in fact several. All misshapen, none whole. It is as if something or someone had torn away different parts of different souls and then attempted to bind the pieces together by stuffing them inside of a single, physical form.

This is no doubt the fault of one of the Thiefs quirks. I am sure of it.

I hate quirks. I hate the Thief.

There is no more time for ruminating, for some of the soul fractions begin to dissipate before my very sight. Others manage to keep together what little is left of themselves, but I can tell they are just moments away from disintegrating as well.

I begin to try and call the souls to me, the songs are more like half notes melded haphazardly together than anything. None of them are really songs at all. How can they be when I am only looking at pieces of a whole.

I work quickly, calling first the ones already disappearing into my folds, then moving to the more stable ones. I loose two pieces, already too far gone for anything to be salvaged. I feel the weight of my failure, scold myself for a job poorly done. I should not have wasted so long pondering as I did.

Another bad habit I am trying to break. All this… thinking is just getting in the way. Yet I cannot seem to stop. Even now I am thinking not on my job, but on my frustrations.

How I wish to never have met that boy. I am lying to myself. I could never regret meeting him. I still miss him.

I have come to the last soul, but I hesitate. This one is more complete than the other's, the most stable of the fractions. There is something familiar about its stability.

A cold sensation washes over me as I call to the soul.

As I fear, it does not come to me.

Stealing myself, I reach out and touch the soul, hoping dearly to feel whatever remaining emotion wash over me and not-

The soul shudders, then takes form.

Oh… curses no.

Wispy tendrils, it's original hue drained from it just like all the other's leaving only grey behind. The faded wisps glitch and spasm as they struggle to take an achingly familiar shape.

It- the ghost is taking the form of a small child.

A boy. Just like… like my boy.

Finally the ghost cements itself (barely, it's form still flickers uncertainty) into its form and opens its eyes. They are empty.

A rush of relief washes over me. This ghost may be small like my- the boy. But it is not him. Instead of a green glow, this thing is a dull grey. Instead of wild, uncept curls this thing has closely shaven, spiky hair. Most of all, instead of expressive eyes that hold more emotion, more light, more hope than any being I have ever come across it has a blank and empty stare.

This ghost is truly dead whereas the boy had always been so very much alive. Parts of it keeps fading in and out of focus. On it's back I catch glimpses of half formed dragonic like wings flickering in and out of existence.

The empty sockets stare at me unblinking. I shift away from the thing, immediately disliking the way that stare makes me feel.

My movement seems to awaken the ghost. It flinches, taking a shaky breath it doesn't need. Then it opens its mouth- and horror spills out. Waves of terror, pain, despair, and intense shock ripple out and mix with a piercing shriek and curdling scream. It is unending, the child continuing its cry of deadening dread with no need to gulp for air.

The noise and emotions strike at me like an attack, yet at the same time it pulls at me in a plea for help. I hesitate. Some distant part of me thinks to bring this ghost under my care just as I had once before.

But unlike last time, I know the parameters of my job. What is acceptable and what is expected of me. I know what I am supposed to do.

And thus, without looking back, I flee.

In the midst of a storm too devastating to be natural, a child wept.

The storm was devastating not just because of its destruction, though it was doing just fine on that front, but because of its very birth. The wind beat upon the earth with its desperation. The rain stabbed surfaces with its sorrow. The lightning tore through atoms with its anger. The earth shook with its pain.

The child... the poltergeist raged on and all near it suffered because of it.

Amidst the chaos and wreckage, another child hung upon a still breath. A ghost among the destruction. This apparition's thought and feeling were crystalised by shock and horror.

Around him people clung to each other, hunkering behind crumbling protection or struggling to drag themselves out of the storms reach. Further away heroes battled their way through the torrents of the storm to try and rescue the lost souls trapped within the destruction.

But the ghost child saw none of these fearful and brave souls. His gaze was solely captured by that which the living could not perceive.

"Izuku!"

In this tempest which blocked out the sun, the boy gazed upon hundreds of small coloured lights. Like stars in the sky, like fireflies across a midnight field, they shone bright against the grey and black of the storm.

It was like a graveyard of lights.

It was a graveyard of lights.

The bright spheres warmly cast their light upon a twisted backdrop. Pale arms reached out from under hills of rubble, glistening red liquid painted the tips of broken metal wings, empty eyes staring listlessly up at a grey sky from crumpled window seats.

"Izuku!"

Among the lights, among the still bodies and running blood, dark figures wisped across the shattered landscape. Dark apparitions loomed over crushed bodies, collecting the bright lights into their shadowy embrace before disappearing without a single glance at the devastation around them.

The boy watched these beings, so familiar to him yet so strange, stalk silently among the dead without a care for the living.

He felt sick. (Some distant part of him hoped desperately that Ichijorei was not among these callous reapers.)

"Izuku!"

Clutching at his chest, the ghost boy shivered and quaked. He was helpless. So helpless. So… empty. There was no heartbeat to pound painfully against his ribs. No rush of adrenalin to push him forward. No burning of muscles to remind him of his reality. He was like a wisp of smoke, aimlessly drifting above a battlefield.

Izuku never felt more dead than he did in this moment.

"Izuku!"

A hundred souls around him. A hundred lights waiting to find rest.

And what was he? What was he really? Unable to feel, unable to even breath. Only able to see, yet not to be seen. He was a broken soul unable to move on. A dead human unable to make a difference.

The world had changed in the blink of an eye. One moment thrumming with life, the next shattered to pieces. The change was instantly. The shift was drastic. The living were dead within a blink of an eye.

Yet he had remained unaffected. Completely unchanged by the same catastrophic event that was killing so many around him.

"Izuku!"

This feeling… he had felt it before. In the beginning. The first time his hand fased through a solid object. The first time he witnessed the formation of a soul after its death. The first time he saw a murder knowing he could do nothing. The first time he watched a person kill themselves knowing his voice could not halt them.

The boy had nearly forgotten how hard those early days had been. He had forgotten how helpless he had felt.

This… this brought all of those old feelings back, drowning him in deprecating uselessness.

"Izuku!"

Gasping, Izuku startled out of his imprisoning thoughts. His eyes drifted to the side, mind taking note of the pressure at his shoulder… the touch pulling him back into reality.

Maes Hughes stood beside him, large hand gripping at his shoulder. Purple glowing eyes stared down at Izuku, further pulling him from the darker recesses of his mind.

"Listen to me kid!" The older ghost yelled over the storm. "You have to focus. I can't do this without you! A'right?"

"H-help? I- I- I can't-" Izuku stuttered out, his fists trembled uselessly at his side.

"Yes you can! You are the only one who can! Come on Izuku! Use that quirk of yours and save people!"

The words sunk in, driven deeper by the unwavering belief and strength that shone brightly in the man's eyes. Izuku could feel how much the man believed in him.

"How?" Izuku asked- begged. He could feel the light of his soul twisting restlessly around him, desperate to be able to do save someone.

The older ghost smiled. It was strained grin, pulled tight by the desolate situation around them. But he was still smiling. There was still hope in his light.

Izuku felt a tremor of hope respond to the man's smile.

It reminded him of All Might.

"With whatever means necessary." Maes responded. Then his smile dropped and both hands came up to grip at the smaller boy's shoulders. "I'm sorry I have to ask this of you kid, but I need you to put aside your fears right now and fight. It's not fair. You are just a kid. But you are probably the only one who can stop the poltergeist. Please. As a father I'm asking you to help me protect my daughter."

Izuku could see the fear in Maes eyes. Yet the fear did not chain down his grim determination.

A strange peace settled over the ghost child. Helplessness and despair melted from his mind. He could feel himself becoming free.

Izuku smiled. He could feel how shakey it was on his face, but refused to let it slip. "Okay."

Maes grinned back. "Good."

The two ghosts turned their attention back upon the poltergeist who still raged in the center of the storm. By now heroes had made their way closer to the pinnacle of destruction, but all of their efforts to ease the storm failed. Now they were just trying to minimize the damage and rescue the trapped survivors.

"If things continue like this, the heroes aren't going to make it to Elicia, or anyone, in time." Maes said, looking back behind him where his daughter and others were huddled together behind a cracked wall. "With my quirk I can try and keep the debris away from the civilians behind us, but there is nothing I can do to stop the poltergeist. But with your quirk, Izuku, you can stop this storm at its source. Stop the poltergeist. Distract it, get it out of here… do what you have to do."

Izuku grit his teeth, his shaky smile becoming more fierce. "I'm guessing if I can touch the poltergeist, he can probably hurt me too."

"Be careful," was all the older ghost said in reply. Nodding, Izuku faces forward, looks up into the swirling vortex of the storm, and plunges forward.

The ghost child cut through the storm without hesitation, his green glow streaking through the dark clouds like a falling star across a black sky. A sudden click and Izuku had crossed some invisible threshold. All sound stopped. The wind, the screams, the thundering boom of lightning. It all ended. The dark shroud of the storm had also disappeared. Golden sunlight streams downward and a perfect swath of blue sky hung above him.

Bathed in light, the poltergeist hung Izuku. The being seemed to be a young male child with short hair and short stature. Two protrusions flicked in and out of existence upon the poltergeist back, causing the rest of the soul's form to glitch with it. All other attributes were lost in the ashen grey of the beings writhing glow. Blank eyes and an open maw of darkness constantly let out a shuddering screams unnerved Izuku further.

"Stop!" Izuku shouted over the grey souls concussive wails. "Please! You have to stop! You're killing people!"

Surprisingly, silence fell.

The storm still raged, but the unnatural power which fed it ceased. Already Izuku could see how the winds and rains lessening in their strength and the lightning did not reach down to scortch the earth anymore.

"͖͠Y̴o̵̶͚᷈u̷͓'r̸è̟ n̶̛̫̏͡o̸͛t g̨᷆r̸͘͜a͔n̷͙͛͞d̢̫͗᷇͜f͋᷇͝a̷t̖͈h̵̶̺er̦͖͊."

Izuku fell back a step, soul quavering in repulsion at the decayed sound which dripped from the poltergeist mouth.

Fighting instincts which pleaded he flee, the ghost child forced himself to look into the blank poltergeist's eyes and ask,"Wha… what d-did you say?"

The poltergeist cocked its head to the side. "Y̴o̸͛u̷͓'r̦͖͊é̗ n̷͙͛͞o̵̶͚᷈t g̴͒͟r̸͛a̷n̶̛̫̏͡d᷄f̵͂a̵͔ẗ̥͕h̸͙͍ͅé̗r͊̋… ͍̋b̷̷̥̂u̒͘t͠ ̾͞I̼ k̶̫͘n̰͂͜o̸̮̠͐͛w͚͋͝ y̧̨͊o̶̶̶͡u͊."

Izuku's bit his lip, unsure how to respond. One wrong word here and the poltergeist could fall back into its destructive rage. And since the ghost child did not recognise the poltergeist, there were a lot of wrong words that could be said.

"O-oh, well… -mmy name is Midoriya Izuku." Izuku gave a slight bow in greeting and smiled, hoping desperately he hadn't just messed everything up.

The poltergeist stared at Izuku for a moment, then shook his head, "̴̴̴̞N͓͚͜o̵̶͚᷈… ̴̰i̞͂t͠ w͚͋͝a̷̹͗s̰̽ ̸͗s͜o̶̶̶͡mé̗th̵̶̺in̰͂͜g̴͒͟ é̗l̸̸s̻͊ȇ̷̷…"

Izuku was not sure how to respond to that. He was Izuku Midoriya. What else would he be called… unless… Oh no. There was no way.

"Dé̗k̶̫͘u."

Fear, this time Izuku could tell it was his own, seized at his soul and dread seeped into his ghostly glow. "H-how- how do you kn-kn-know that n-na-name?"

"̘͕̳͝D̡ēk̷̪u͊." The poltergeist began to chant. "͙Q̡̬͜u̢͊i̚r̸͛kl̸̸es̸͗s͜ Dȇ̷̷k̪u͊. ̵̵D̵̢̢̛̠̙̅̍̏ȇ̷̷k̶̫̈̉͘ü̆. Q̡̬͐͜u͈͂i̴r̾k̵̵l̸ẹ̛š̘̗s̛ ̵̪̌͞͞͞͞D̡͢ek̷̪u̷͓. ̺̝̿Q̸̷̘̠̩u̷͓i̞͂r̚k̶̛̫̬͘le̴̛̖̎̌̃s̸̻͊͗s͜. ̬̠̙Q̙̮̄u̪̥͆i̠͜r̴̹̚k̸̸̫̤ľ͇͇e̗̩s̬̍̑̽s̶̠. ̡̳̅Q͇̯̀ű͎i̸̟rk̷̠̤̍l̪̤ēs̰̪̕s̴̾."

"NO!" Izuku shouts, hands balling into fists as he grit his teeth. "Stop! Stop saying that! I'm not a deku. I'm not quirkless!"

The poltergeist fell silent, which suddenly seemed worse. The air began to broil around them, a thrumming energy starting to bash itself through Izuku as if trying to shatter him. The poltergeist shrieked and crashed into Izuku, hands clawing and ripping mercilessly at the ghost child.

Where fingers dug deep, soul clawing at soul, white pain seized Izuku and he was invaded by destructive emotions. Alien feelings of hate, betrayal, vengeance, and fear curled within him, threatening to choke his own emotions of panic and determination.

Crying out, Izuku tore the poltergeist off of him for a blessed moment, before the grey poltergeist was back at his throat. The ghost child tried to guard his throat, only to have the poltergeist's fingers find grip within his wild green hair while the other hand curled around Izuku's jaw. A scream of terror rent itself from the grey soul's open maw as it sought to rip head from body. Izuku desperately clawed at the poltergeist wrists and with a burst of righteous fury tossed the grey soul off of him. Immediately the poltergeist fell back upon his prey, but Izuku was ready for him this time. The ghost child ducked under the poltergeist's reach and slammed his shoulder into the grey souls midsection. Such an attack could not hope to stun a being with no need to breath, but that had not been Izuku's plan anyway.

With a shout, Izuku propelled himself and the poltergeist straight up into the air. Snarling like a mad animal, the poltergeist fought to escape. Izuku grit his teeth as the grey souls power ripped into his back and sought to dispel the energy within his own being. No matter what, the greenette child knew he could not let go of his opponent. Not until they were out of range. Not until the people below were safe from the poltergeist's rage.

So Izuku flew, pushing himself to go faster and faster. Light blurred and colours streamed around them, everything falling out of focus as Izuku pushed himself past the limit of sound and breath.

Fingers ripped through his being, stabbing deep into his core allowing the poltergeists own festering feelings of betrayal and revenge overload Izuku once again. The ghost cried out as his body stuttered to a halt, the pain automatically causing him to lose his grip on his enemy.

With a gasp, the fist was rent out of his soul, causing his form to fluctuate and his senses to fizz. Struggling to regain proper consciousness, primal urge had Izuku push himself as far away from his attacker as possible. He desperately hoped his dodge took him far enough out of the next swiping attack. He just needed a moment to regain himself.

The attack never came and the dangerous buzz in the air dwindled. His form shuddered, then cemented itself back into proper form, allowing Izuku to regain his senses. The air around him is empty, devoid of wind and sound. A ribbon of atmospheric blue circled around him as it separated a large curved canvas of white and blue from the open expanse of darkness that now engulfed him. To his left a ball of light cut through the black and crested the ribbon's edge in bright glory.

The ghost boy was floating above the earth. For a moment Izuku was awestruck, taken in by a rare inspiring sight few humans had ever seen with their own eyes.

That moment shattered when the greenette ghost realised he was alone. Or rather, the poltergeist was not attacking him. Looking down, a squeak of panic lodged itself in his throat to see the destructive grey soul charging down back to earth. Izuku lost no more time charging after his opponent.

The poltergeist hissed angrily as Izuku crashed into it. This time Izuku attacked, kicking and punching even as he kept a firm grip on the grey soul so it could not escape him. The poltergeist cried out in furry and pain, spitting out words of damnation.
"̡̛̬̮̰̋U̸̲̗̎s͚̍é̘̪̆lě̵̘̠̏̈s̉̎̕s̷̡! Q̸̟̏̈ú̜̑̌i̥̕r̴̪̙̦k̶̙̗̂̐ľ̆́e̸̛̗̫̎̂s̴̭̜̀̓̐̍s̟̋̑̉̔! ̶̢̦̐̌Q̵̩̂̈u̡̗̱̐i̠̚r̯̩̍̓ǩ̤̈̒l̵̢̪̝̐e̷̢̛͂̕s̩̦̑̕s̈̌̓ ̤̪̍̐̕D̦̭̍̒̂̊e̴̛̖̎̌̃k̵̸̛̖̐̍̋̑ư̠̦̍̍̇̒!" The poltergeist cried out as it attempted to utterly disperse the green soul before it. "̘̩̇̍̑̑Ņ̤̫̞̒̚ő̶̑̾t̸̡̚ ̭̾̕f̮̏̈à̵̗̬̒ȋ̴̦r̷̙̍! ̵̗̮̘̓̊N̘̗̑͟ǒ̢̝͐t̴̍̉ ̷ḟ̗â̺̞̈ì͒͜r̵͍̍̏! ̣̋̒W̵̫̋̆̇h̵̛̖͖̊y̙̜͆̕ ÿ̫̙͇̊o̢͕̺̔̑̄ű̦͝?! ̳̯͚͔̎̀͜Q̶̛̠̽ȕ̮̕͜i̖̣̇r̯̬̀̍k̪̮̂̑l̫̙̬̬ĕ̸̗͚̾͌̕s͚͕̼̠̏s̶̴̡̐ Ď̷̰̖̿e̯̠͢k͎̩̇u̯̒̔! ̡̜͓̉͂́͠Q͔̗̩̮̣̑̾͊ȗ̫̗ȉ̶̸̸r̲̒͌ḳ̵̢͕̒ḻ̟̜̊e̺̻͔̅̿s̴͕͌̚ṡ̟͎͚̚! ̠̯̍̑̎̿̋W̶̯̥̟̄ḩ͔̩͐̕y̷̵̳ ṇ̶̒ͅo̹͈̐́ͅt̵̥ ̰̹̭́̾m̵̹̬̗̌̓͋ệ̯͐?!"

"I don't even understand what you're saying!" Izuku screamed back. "But it doesn't matter, because I have to stop you no matter what!... I'm sorry..."

With a final cry, Izuku plunged his hand deep into the poltergeist form and pressed everything down into their forced connection. His memories. His pain. The starile air of the doctor's office where his dreams were first shattered. The shocked pain when his friend first punched him into the dusty ground. The scalding heat on his skin where he received his first burn. The sinking feeling in his heart the first time doubt began to eat away inside of him. The hollow cold that sunk into his chest and bones when he realised how truly alone he felt in a classroom full of people. The dizzying fog that descended upon him the first time he looked at a blade and thought how easy it would be to make one simple cut. The helplessness that choked him along with the slime during his final moments of breathe.

The flaring hope that always promised better days to come. The soft touch of his mother's hand every time she asked him if he was alright after coming home from school. The burning determination in his chest that helped him walk away from the roofs edge every time. The inspirational acts of heroes every day that continued to give him hope to keep fighting.

The despair that gripped his heart as he died, believing he had lost his chance to become a hero and save people.

The sense of peace that came over him the first time he reached out and comforted a departed soul. The bell like sound of hearing Eri laughing for the first time. The look of utter relief and hope that relite in amber eyes the first time he saved a living person. The complete trust a girl had in him as she placed her hand into his and let him pull her away from death.

The soft look Izuku spied once in a while on Ichijorei's face whenever the reaper thought Izuku wasn't looking.

All of this and more washed through the poltergeist, drowning the grey soul in a tidal wave of emotion. As the poltergeist floundered in the essence of Izuku's being, other feelings and memories bled through to Izuku's side of the connection.

Memories of a normal, happy childhood. Elated joy whenever red wings took his feet off the ground. The boundless sky and future hope that one day little wings would grow bigger and take him up into the blue freedom. The pride when Grandfather said his quirk was good.

Dark. Uncertainty. Wrongness. Fear. Creeping dread. Shaking fingers clung to a cold hand, desperately trying to keep their trust in those large hands despite the scariness happening around him. Cold metal. Flat surface. Spiking fear. Pain. Pain! Pain! BETRAYAL! No please! Stop! Stop! Grandfather! Don't do this! Save me uncle! Please! Please! I wan't mamma! I just want mamma! Mamma! Cutting. Shredding. Tears. Burning. Scream. Ragged breath. Dark figure. Looming. Hand reaching. Taking. More pain more pain more pain morepainmorepainmorepainpainpainpainpainpainpain.

Soul shredded. Quirk ripped out. Death.

Izuku pulled back, gasping from shock as his soul trembled. The grey poltergeist before him lay apathetically in the darkness of space. Tears silently dripping away in a flow of despair. Empty eyes staring off into darkness, somehow even more void than before.

It took a moment for Izuku to collect himself. To realise those memories and feelings were not his. To realise who the grey soul was.

"Tsubasa-chan." One of Kacchan's old friends (and thus Izuku's bully)… before their classmate disappeared on the cusp of middle school.

Now Izuku knew why.

It took the ghost child a moment more to realise his trembling was not from fear… but anger.

Taking a deep breath, Izuku reached out a hand and gently touched Tsubasa's shoulder. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

The grey soul looked at him then, empty eyes still streaming dusted tears. "̢̋H̸̸̬̯̄e̠͐̃ ̡̛̭w̴̠̯̆̍a̢͇̒n̛̘͈̾t̤̉e̋̽d͓͜ m͎̎̇y̵ ͈͆q̻͉ú͙͎̊͗i͚͑r͑k͖͋. ̵̸̮̙̂H̵̵̨̦͓͐e͚͕̥͂̑͘ o̢̤͋n̞̒̓l̖̬̆y̦͡ͅ ȇ̢̳v̥̖̉ͅe̟̹͓̊r̞͍̉ w̶̸͚̖a̎n̗͑t̹̋̐e͓͔͇͘d̰̖̐͌ m͙̰͗y̿̚ q̰͛̎ǔ̺̤̽i̢͋̚r̒͘k͎͔ͅ. I̤̾̐f̸ ọ̍n̰̩͐ḷ̰y̿ I͜ h̖ͅa̙͋d̹́ b̜͘ͅe̶̩e͖̝n̡̆ q̧̘̋u̧͌i̡͐r̡͈k͎̽l̠̣̒e̢͓͂s̴̚s."

Izuku pulled Tsubasa forward into a hug, tucking the smaller grey soul under his chin and curling protectively around him.

Tsubasa hung limply in the embrace, shocked and unsure. Then something loosened within the incomplete soul, and he returned the embrace. Quiet wimpers turned into muffled sobs until the grey soul was wailing into Izuku's chest. Like a scared little child would when they are finally able to feel safe.

Time passed. The earth spun on its axes. The grey child cried until there was no negative emotion left inside of him. Silence fell. But both children found it comforting. Stars shone far out in space. The sun lit up the ethereal blue planet below them. Grey took comfort in Green's comforting embrace.

Finally the Tsubasa pushed himself away. Izuku let go of his grip, allowing the grey soul to make as much space between them as he wished. Tsubasa, eyes still empty though no longer void, looked into Izuku's emerald green gaze and smiled.

"T͚ḥan͒k y̡o̒u, Iz͐uk͙̭u."

Then he faded away.

Hehehe... sorry for missing a month. This chapter had NO BUSINESS being so difficult. But, alas, it was.