Prologue

Flotsam and Jetsam

Everyone dies. Or rather, everyone deserves a death.

Death was the final, grand act in a life full of triumphs and failures, of joy and sorrow, of love and hate. It was the cusp of all existence, the conclusion to a masterful culmination of events whose details and intricacies could never be described to their totality.

It was an end.

But for some, death was something else entirely.

Shouto was supposed to go down in a blaze of gunfire and glory. Not cold and alone and afraid.

He'd been drafted right out of high school, but he'd been ready to face his end regardless of whether or not he had any choice in the matter. He'd never had much say in the way his life went anyways. He'd be leaving what was left of his family behind, which was regretful, at least in regards to his mother and older siblings. But, at the very least, his life would have meant something to someone...hopefully...

With his hands wrapped tightly around his rifle and his bayonet pointed forward as he'd marched through the woods after getting separated from his regimen during battle, he'd been ready to greet death with a small, but resolute grin.

He didn't think death would beat him to the chase and smile at him first.

The last thing he saw was blood-covered fangs as sharp as razors and hauntingly familiar cold eyes.

Death had always been a certainty, the punchline everyone could see coming.

But not for Shouto.

For a vampire, death wasn't the end, but the beginning.

Ochako was supposed to die of old age. Or, at least, that had been the plan.

A tumble down the stairs had ended things much sooner, the back of her head cracking against the tile floor of her entryway. She'd woken as she was now to stare down at her own corpse, her blood pooling on the floor and staining her hair scarlet as her eyes stared, unseeing, up at the ceiling.

Afterwards, she had sat with her knees tucked tightly into her chest in the corner of her own home, overlooked and forgotten. Unnatural and supernatural. Watching the dance from the sidelines.

At least she'd been surrounded by friends and family, if only for a short while. At least she'd gotten that bit right.

They'd all been there with her, stepping over the cracked tile that'd brought about her end with drinks in their hands and remorseful, yet sweet tears in their eyes as they reminisced about the girl in the casket they'd just lowered into the ground only half an hour earlier. Ochako's own tears had streamed down her face in rivets as she'd screamed in their faces, begging just one of them to do so much as look at her.

But they hadn't, her shrieks silent in their ears and their bodies passing through hers as if she hadn't even been there.

It was at her own funeral that she'd discovered the worst thing about being a ghost: it was lonely.

Then there were the ones like Katsuki. The ones that should have died, but didn't.

The stranger that'd trailed after him into the forest that night had died. His insides had been torn from his torso and his blood had clogged his throat as he'd taken his last, choked breaths.

But Katsuki had barely even noticed, even though the poor guy was sprawled out right next to him on the forest floor. To the blond, it'd felt as if the creature's claws had ripped his heart out when they'd swiped across his shoulder and chest. As if they'd left venom in their wake to slowly eat him from the inside out. His desperate heaving for air had drowned out the piercing gunshots and shouting of hunters, but not the deep growling of the beast they were chasing off.

That night, Katsuki had been certain he was going to die.

Yet, shattered and bloody, he'd walked away from the massacre.

But his survival had come at a great cost.

He was scarred; transformed. He was a monster now, too. An aberration. The stuff of nightmares. The big, bad wolf.

So, in a world where they'd been deprived of death, of a final end, what was there to look forward to?

Maybe, if they still deserved such a thing as mercy, they would find each other.

Ochako hooked her fingertips around the edge of a curtain in one of the upstairs bedrooms, pulling the fabric back the tiniest fraction to peek past it. Her gaze fell to the street below, settling on a black car that looked like it'd driven straight out of the fifties. Her jaw clenched as she watched two boys unload boxes and garbage bags full of what she could only assume to be clothes from the trunk.

She'd succeeded in scaring the last tenants away, and the couple before them, too. But it seemed as if her efforts were futile, and no matter how bad a reputation she gave her former home, it kept attracting renters.

Apparently, being haunted wasn't enough to keep people away.

She supposed she couldn't blame them, really, given how much of a steal the house was. Despite its simplicity and petite size, it was Ochako's dream house.

And she'd only gotten to live in it for six days before she'd-

Well, she was still 'living' in it now, but when she wasn't really alive, could it be called 'living?'

Maybe 'lingering' was a better word, but either way, she still considered it her home.

The new occupants of her home were moving in today, a pair of boys that were visually opposite in every way save for the fact that they both seemed to be pretty well built.

The tanner, blond boy looked like he was melting in his now-sweat-covered cotton tank top while the other was as covered up as he possibly could be. Ochako was certain that it'd take more than one hand to count everything he was wearing. The pale fingers that slipped past his cuffs and the tips of red and white hair peeking out from beneath his beanie were the only clues she had as to what he looked like. She was certain she saw a patch of discoloration on face, too, but his sunglasses and the scarf he'd wound around his neck and tucked his chin into weren't leaving much of his face visible.

Ochako couldn't feel hot or cold anymore, but she could tell from the rays of sunlight streaming through the window, the cloudless sky, and the sweat stains on the blond's shirt that it must've been ridiculously hot outside. How the paler haired boy could survive in that getup, she didn't understand.

She didn't get long to stare at him to try and figure it out though.

After doing a quick glance over of the house, the blond did a double take in the direction of her window, his eyes narrowing.

Out of habit, the brunette yanked herself away from the glass as if she was a child that'd been caught peeping, letting the curtain fall back into its proper place. She took a few steps away from the window even though she knew he hadn't seen her. To him, the only thing visible was the peculiar and unnatural cinch in the curtain where her fingers had rested.

No one could see her anymore. Not since…that had happened. And she knew her invisibility to the living was an unchangeable fact.

Just like her motivation to drive out every new batch of strangers that arrived at her home.

This pair of boys was no different. She'd get them to leave, no matter what she had to do.

It'd only been two days since the two boys had moved in, but Ochako had already come to one solid conclusion about them: out of the three rounds of occupants the house had passed between since the blonde had died, this pair of boys was by far the loudest. Or, at least, the blond boy was.

That conclusion was quickly followed by another: his nearly constant yelling was a thousand times more tolerable than the sounds of people having sex.

Touch was something Ochako had been deprived of since…that had happened. And it'd seemed as if the previous tenants had had to just rub it in every chance they got by performing the most intimate kind of touch there was. The second couple whom had shared her home had been worse than the first, and she swore not a single night went by where there wasn't some sort of intercourse. She'd gotten so fed up with it that she'd chucked a bible from the shelf in the living room at the couple once when they'd been going down, the book of scripture hitting the man square in the left butt cheek.

Emotionally, it hadn't been one of her proudest moments, but at least her aim had proven itself true. And God, their faces had made it so worth it.

Maybe being a ghost, and therefore being invisible and capable of poofing from one room to another, did have a few perks, namely the ability to go about committing various shenanigans without being seen.

After overcoming the trauma of what had happened to her and of what she'd become, Ochako had decided to live out the role to its fullest since she didn't have any clue as to why she was still in the world of the living or how to 'move on' to the world of the dead. She'd stacked chairs and dishes in pyramids when people's backs were turned, banged on the floor in supposedly empty rooms, written on walls with red paint (she didn't think she'd ever have the heart to procure any type of blood to achieve maximum horror), and messed with the light switches in more than a few hallways.

Her supposed 'poltergeist' activity was what had driven the last two couples out, but she had a feeling she would have to do much more than just stack a few dishes and flicker a few switches to get these two boys to leave.

She'd kept to the shadows for the past two days, deciding to start out by just watching them and making small adjustments to see how they'd react. She wanted to scare them off, but she didn't want to scare them too bad, some part of her still innately kind despite the bitterness that was building up within her about her current condition and situation.

Making small adjustments to gauge their threshold for fear wasn't really working out for her though. Because they hadn't been freaked out by a damn thing. Not the keys she'd moved around, not the boxes she'd raided of all their spoons, nor the fact that she'd rearranged the books on the bookshelf in their living room at least four times a day.

The boy with the red and white hair either never noticed the things she'd moved around or was simply unbothered by them, and the blond was quick to blame any small inconveniences she'd caused on the other boy.

She honestly couldn't comprehend how the two had ended up being housemates. She was certain that it wasn't done by force, and that they'd willingly decided to share a home. But with the way the blond boy could yell, she had no idea as to why the other boy would willingly subject himself to such ear-shattering screams on a daily basis.

And even more confusing: he never yelled back, which she had to give him major props for. Had she still been alive and subject to the need to sleep, she was sure that his screaming would have driven her mad by now.

But instead, there was something kind of…surprisingly endearing about it, at least once she'd gotten used to it.

Like now, with the two of them sitting on the floor of their still furniture-less living room, the blond's hands wrapped dangerously tight around one of the controllers that was strung to an old GameCube. They were playing Mario Kart on a box TV they'd set on the floor, the blond's feet taking on the task of trying to mess the other boy up by kicking him since his hands were occupied.

Ochako didn't know where they'd found the old gaming console and box TV in such good condition without having to pay a fortune, but the fact that they'd been the first things the mutli-colored haired boy had set up in the home had drawn more than a few giggles from her, which she'd unconsciously muffled by covering her mouth with her hand.

She'd smiled more over the course of the last two days than she had in the four months since her death. Even now, there was a small smile on her face as she sat on the kitchen floor, watching them through the curtain of rainbow beads she'd strung in the doorframe on her third day in the home.

God, she really hoped they didn't take the beads down, no matter how annoying and unlike the pair they were. They gave the house character and provided her a place of cover to watch the boys through. Because even though she knew she couldn't be seen, her eighteen years of life had fostered the habit of feeling the need to hide in places where she wasn't welcome.

And she was certain that she wasn't welcome here, in her own home. Or, at least, she wasn't welcome anymore. Because it was impossible to be loved and wanted when nobody knew that you even existed.

Shouto gently pressed the door to his new house shut behind him with his foot as he began the lengthy process of removing all of the cover he'd worn outside, starting with his sunglasses and beanie since they were the most bothersome. He set the accessories on the table right beside the door, along with his house keys, continuing the conversation he'd been having with Katsuki outside, "I was thinking we could get you a cage."

"A cage?!" the blond's words blasted through the curtain of beads into the entryway from where he'd gone to put their newly bought groceries away. His voice was sharp, which was no surprise.

Katsuki always got moody before that time of the month. Well...he was never not moody by Shouto's standards, but he was always particularly bad when this time came around.

"Yep," Shouto hummed, ever unbothered by his housemate's harsh tone as he shrugged off his leather jacket and draped it over the armrest of the couch in their living room. "We could just stuff it in your room and get some heavy curtains to dull the sound or something."

"No way in hell. I'm not transforming here," Katsuki charged through the curtain of rainbow colored beads, setting his feet firm and folding his arms over his chest. "The house was supposed to be separate, Half 'n Half. I'm not letting…" he waved his hand around in the air for a few moments while he struggled to find a term he deemed appropriate, finally setting on, "that…invade here."

"Then what are you going to do?"

Silence fell on them for a few moments, complete stillness engulfing them as Shouto pressed Katsuki with a glare while the blond visibly wracked his brain for a solution.

He came up short, his exasperation escaping him in a heavy breath, "I have no fucking clue."

Shouto let out a heavy sigh and lightly rolled his eyes before turning left, intending to seat himself on the black leather couch in the living room. He pulled up short when, out of the corner of his eye, an inconsistency in the hallway that ran between the living room and stairs caught his attention.

In stark, dripping red, two words were scrawled across the right wall.

'GET OUT'

With furrowed brows, Shouto changed his route, coming to stand right before the vandalism.

Katsuki rounded the bottom of the stairs, his brows furrowing, "Is that fucking blood?"

"Paint," Shouto corrected, reaching forward to gently swipe his fingertip against the writing. "And it's still wet." He suddenly let out a soft, barely audible scoff as he finished fully comprehending Katsuki's question, "Blood? Have you ever tried to write anything in blood? It's entirely impractical."

Before Katsuki could retaliate with another jab, there was a loud bang from upstairs, the pair both silently staring up at the ceiling for a moment before sharing a glance.

"Go see what that was," Shouto breathed.

"Why me?" Katsuki spat back in a whisper-scream.

"You look more intimidating."

The blond looked about ready to pounce, "The fuck did you say?!"

There was another bang, louder this time, as if a bowling ball had been dropped.

"This is a fucking joke," Katsuki huffed, glancing at the ceiling once more before looking back at his housemate, "What could be scarier than one of us?"

Shouto took a few steps backwards to grab an umbrella from the holder near the front door, brandishing it like a weapon and staring up the stairs as he answered, "A bigger one of us." When Katsuki made no move, Shouto nudged his shoulder with the tip of his umbrella, "Go on. I'll back you up."

After a brief, silent standoff, Katsuki dramatically rolled his eyes, snatching a pizza paddle from one of the many unpacked boxes that still littered the home and holding it like a baseball bat while he led the quiet charge up the stairs with Shouto at his back.

There were four rooms on the upper level, two of which were their respective bedrooms and one of which was the bathroom. The last, and smallest, was the furthest from the stairs, and it was one they'd rarely been in during their week in the home. They hadn't found a use for it yet, and the only thing in there at the moment was an armchair the previous owners had left behind.

Though, that may not be the only thing in the room now, another bang letting them know that that was where the noises where coming from.

Katsuki quietly set his hand on the handle, glancing back at Shouto and his umbrella, before throwing the door open. They charged inside with their makeshift weapons brandished, only making it a few steps into the room before they stumbled to a halt.

Their eyes went wide at the sight of a brunette sitting sideways in the lone armchair, her feet pulled up onto the couch and her knees tucked into her chest.

At their sudden entrance, she only cast them a quick, disinterested glance before going back to picking at her nails.

Katsuki tightened his grip on his still brandished pizza paddle as he sharply blurted, "Who the fuck are you?"

The girl's gaze shot up again, glancing between them before looking behind herself. When she'd confirmed no one else was in the room, she whipped back around to stare at the boys with wide eyes, disbelief in her voice, "You…Can you see me?"

"What? Of course we can fucking-" Katsuki scoffed, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes, "Who are you?"

There was a light clink when the tip of Shouto's umbrella tapped the wooden floor as his arms slowly fell back to his sides. Realization danced in his wide eyes as he stared at the girl and quietly pressed, "Bakugo..."

"You can see me!" The girl excitedly shot to her feet, not at all bothered when Katsuki aimed the tip of his pizza paddle at her as if to keep her back, "You can hear me, too! I can't believe this!"

"You don't believe this?" Katsuki spat. "Did you write that on our wall? It better fucking come off!"

Shouto put a hand forward, "Bakugo, hang on a second-"

"This is incredible!" the beaming brunette had started bouncing on the balls of her feet, as if she couldn't possibly stay still.

Katsuki watched the girl with angry, wide eyes and furrowed brows, speaking out of the corner of his mouth, "Half n' Half, go call the police."

"It's okay-"

"No, it's fucking not! She broke into our house!"

"Bakugo, shut up!" Shouto whisper screamed, finally snapping and punching the blond in the shoulder. He looked back to the brunette, still in disbelief as he breathed, "She's a ghost."

Katsuki stared at the other boy in silence for a moment before he slowly turned his focus back the girl.

At the blank, unsure stares from the boys, the brunette shrunk back into herself a bit, tapping the tips of her index fingers together and lightly shrugging, "And your point is?"

AN

Hi, this is my first time writing a MHA fic and I'm terrified.

And yes, this is 100% inspired by the TV Series Being Human (The UK version). I don't have plans to be too faithful to it though, I'm just kind of using the set up and some of the main plot points. But I don't plan to follow it thru and thru. Honestly, I don't have many plans at all, so I'll just see where this goes

One thing I know for certain is that as far as ships go, we'll get some IzuOcha, TodoDeku, and KiriBaku (are those the right ship names?), but the main focus will be the four way friendship between Deku, Uraraka, Todoroki, and Bakugo.

Also, here are some warnings/reasons for the M rating:

- Expect all of the usual dark angst that comes along with vampires, ghosts, and werewolves and the like

- There are characters that will die in this fic. I think that's a given with supernatural stories, but I figured I'd warn you just in case.

- There won't be any explicit sex, but there will be implied sex and mentions of sexual situations.

Anyways, thanks for reading!