I changed that last little scene in the first chapter a little bit. Happy Friday 13th. I nearly forgot the holiday. Thought I'd try hard to get something up today (or, well, yesterday now). Hopefully I'll get the rest of the fic up before next August or Halloween. I'm just not used to writing horror/suspense stuff. It's hard.
Oh, and, warning about attempted murder stuff, I guess. Hadn't thought of mentioning that last chapter.
Shouto lay awake on his futon, staring up at the dim ceiling. There was a twin-sized bed in the corner of the room Backdraft had given him, but he preferred the futon he'd brought from home.
The anticipation was keeping him awake as he waited for two a.m. to roll around. Over and over, he imagined how the confrontation would go, how he would put a stop to what his brother had become.
Apparition was no longer the brother he'd seen from a distance, but a monster driven by rage and desperation. A murderer and a villain. Shouto would end him quickly: dodge or block whatever was thrown at him, and get up close to make his move.
He would aim right between the eyes.
His lips quirked up in a bitter smile at the thought.
Perhaps it would sound deranged if taken out of context, but Shouto felt he had a right to deal with Apparition. It was a family matter, and though his father should be the one to clean up his own mess, Shouto nevertheless felt responsible for Apparition roaming the streets, for the innocent people he'd killed. Shouto was also a Todoroki, so Apparition's actions were also on him.
He glanced toward the room's digital clock to check the time.
1:46
It was one forty last time he'd checked—what felt like half an hour ago.
He ran through some different attacks Apparition might go for, and the best counters for them. Perhaps Apparition would aim for the face or the chest. A more strategic shot for his legs or arms could also be possible. Of course, the main factor in winning a fight was the ability to improvise. There was no predicting how a fight would play out.
1:48
Well, one forty-eight was close enough to two. He could hear Backdraft snoring elsewhere in the house, so it should be safe.
He tiptoed toward the front door, glancing around each corner and carrying his hero costume's boots in his hand.
It was easier than tiptoeing around his father at home.
He checked his pocket to make sure he had the weapon on him, and then unlocked the door and went out onto the dark streets of Mustafar.
He started off running down the sidewalks, picking streets at random as he headed away from the residential area and toward the older part of the city. From what he could find online, Apparition preferred dark and less populated areas. That was just fine with him.
His footfalls were loud in the silence. Streetlights washed over him every several meters, but the lights grew farther between as he moved away from the good neighborhood.
It was strangely quiet at night, unlike the noise of the day. Even the quietest sounds seemed loud, like the chirping of an occasional cricket or the electronic buzz of a vending machine. The city streets felt larger, more vast, without the people and vehicles and noise to fill the space.
It felt as though Shouto were intruding somewhere strange and otherworldly.
He slowed as he started seeing gutted buildings and old factories, taking his time to scan his surroundings as he walked.
Everything was washed out in shades of gray, the human eye not made for seeing well in the dark. Edges were fuzzy and indistinct, while the contrast between shades was heightened and unusual.
He walked slowly by the buildings, squinting into the inky shadows.
This seemed like a place petty criminals would frequent. Perhaps vandals, or drug dealers, or muggers. But all was silent. Unnervingly so.
Some innate part of himself advised keeping his footfalls light here, to make as little noise as possible in this dark and vacant area. Not to let anyone or any thing out there hear him. The silence somehow making him paranoid about being watched.
He was surprised to realize he wasn't sure whether his slow approach was that of a hunter stalking its prey, or that of the prey hiding from the hunters.
Everything felt eerie and inhospitable here. The sidewalk under his feet was broken to pieces, and the tall chain link fence beside him was bent and sharp and unfeeling.
Something moved in the corner of his eye, and he turned to see some straggly strands of tall grass swaying in a gentle breeze, the color bleached out in the darkness.
A loud fluttering beside his face had Shouto flinching back and trying to find the source.
He couldn't spot it—it was already gone.
Probably a nighttime bird or bat that he'd startled just as badly as it had startled him.
He reached into his pocket to center himself and remember his mission.
Somewhere along the way, he'd gotten distracted from the determination he'd set out with. He needed that drive to carry him forward. He needed it in order to face Apparition. Especially when the villain was most likely his brother, and it wasn't uncommon for vengeful spirits to go after other family members in order to make their real target miserable. If Shouto faltered, Apparition could kill him first.
A metallic echo sounded in the distance, seeming to come from a burned-out factory two buildings away.
Shouto snuck over to investigate, listening for any other sounds. It was a square brick building with a complex system of catwalks and crumbling balconies. Ugly soot stains trailed up from the missing windows and gaping entrance.
Even standing beside the building, he didn't hear any more noises.
It had probably just been a stray cat. Or a piece of the building finally succumbing to gravity.
Close enough to feel against his ear, a voice whispered, "If it isn't little Shouto Todoroki."
His breath caught, body tensing at the sound. It was entirely too long before he managed to spin around and spread frost across the ground with his right foot.
His frost shone like snow, lighting up the driveway and long empty street.
His breaths stuttered out as he tried to keep them silent.
No one was there. No one could run that fast—or do so without making a noise.
He stepped back slowly, the crunch of frost under his boots loud in his ears, until he was nearly in the building's doorway.
"Touya?" he asked. The name came out quieter than he'd meant it to. His eyes roved through the air in front of him, looking for some sign of his presence. He forced his voice louder. "I know it's you. You're here to exact revenge on Father, aren't you?"
"Yes." Another feather-light whisper, this time from the opposite direction.
Shouto leapt back and twisted toward the voice. There was nothing but the dark entrance to the building.
Nothing could have gotten past Shouto to get inside. He took a cautious step forward, lighting a flame in the palm of his left hand. He carefully moved the flame into the doorway, casting both light and harsh shadows to the interior.
The building's expansive cement floor was covered in dirt and rubble. Melted and dust-covered wires hung low from the ceiling, and gray ash covered the walls that he could see. Some of the brick was decayed, a few sections missing, exposing the night sky beyond.
It was empty.
"Touya?" he asked again.
His raised left hand shook slightly as he awaited a response, but none came.
He slowly backed away from the entrance, glancing around for the ghost of his brother. "Touya, can we talk?" He turned and slowly started down the driveway, listening closely. "There are better ways than this to seek justice."
If Shouto kept walking, would Apparition follow? Was he listening? Was he even still in the area?
"The people you've been killing are innocent," Shouto continued, still holding the small flame in his left hand for light. "They didn't do anything to you."
He didn't think the words would make a difference, but he needed a way to draw Apparition to him. Whether he truly wanted to see the ghost or not.
The street consisted of harsh angles, made even more noticeable by the shifting shadows cast by his flame. He could find nothing soft or organic. Just square windows and rectangular buildings and the chain link fence—which created crisscrossing lines against the buildings behind it.
Slowly moving his flame as he walked, the light illuminated what looked like dark, reaching fingers.
He flinched, backing up a step, before recognizing it as a tree branch. It was only the shadows from his flame that gave it the illusion of movement.
He lowered his flame to find the main body of the tree.
It stood behind the fence, gnarled and dead, the stumpy branches bare even in May. The trunk was riddled with woodpecker holes. Sections of bark dangled from the large limbs, and the smaller branches extended into the air like human fingers. One of those branches was stretched out over the fence.
He let out a small sigh and turned away.
His eyes landed on a small blue flame across the street and he threw up his right hand to cover it in ice.
The flame instantly snuffed out. He was halfway to the spot before he realized he had encased a concrete post.
His steps slowed in his confusion.
He stopped before the ice-covered post. Through his thick ice, he could barely see a dark scorch mark. It seemed the little blue flame had been left sitting on top.
Where was Apparition?
Eyes widening in realization—the post was a trap—Shouto spun.
A stream of blue flame barely missed his head.
"I thought you said you wanted to talk," Apparition said with a sneer. He was already raising his other hand to throw another attack.
Shouto needed to get closer. He dug his right hand into his pocket, gripping the weapon, as he took a step forward while blocking with his own flames.
Up close, and with the blue flames in the ghost's hands, Shouto could see Apparition's features clearly. Even despite constantly moving to dodge and block attacks.
Horrendous burns hugged each expressionless blue eye and wrapped around his lower jaw and entire neck. Bits of glistening metal covered his face and seemed to be all that held him together. Stringy and knotted black hair hung around his face.
Apparition's attacks were lazy, small, and easy to track. It seemed the ghost was having fun toying with him like a cat would a mouse.
He was underestimating Shouto.
A fist-sized stream of blue flame to his face, then to his chest using the opposite hand, and then a diagonal sweep. Shouto took a step each time.
Apparition didn't take a step back.
After ducking under the diagonal stream of flame, Shouto pulled out the weapon as fast as he could and slammed it against Apparition's forehead. Then Shouto leapt back and waited, watching Apparition closely.
Apparition blinked, confusion crossing his face.
After staring at Shouto for a few seconds, his eyes crossed to look toward the slip of paper stuck to his face. A hand reached up slowly, cautiously pinching the paper between thumb and finger and pulling it away. He stared at the words on the paper.
Ghosts weren't supposed to be able to touch the ofuda. The priestess had guaranteed...
Apparition started laughing.
Shouto stared as Apparition continued to laugh, long and hard, head bowed and arms holding his ribs.
Finally, after several seconds, Apparition's hands dropped to his sides, head tilting up to look at Shouto. The amused smile gradually faded from his face.
"You just tried to kill me."
Apparition crumpled the piece of paper in his fist, before letting it fall to the ground. "You're just like him," Apparition snarled, his eyes like chips of ice.
He swung his arm, and a whole wall of blue fire shot toward Shouto.
Shouto's eyes widened in panic.
Apparition was alive.
And he was angry.