-Author's Note-

Welcome! I am cross posting this on here and AO3, fic with same name and similar username. I rated this fic M for drug use, violence, occasional depiction of dead, trauma, language. There likely will not be any smut on this particular story, though I may someday make a one-shot after the time skip for that. I am basing my character loosely on Klaus Hargreeves, his power, personality before the 15 odd years of drugs (my oc will be 16 so she won't be as insane as the 29 year old Klaus, but she will have his reckless tendencies, self depreciating and sarcastic humor, drug use, romantic (yet slightly sexual) tendencies, and hatred of her powers. I have a tiktok that goes along with this fic (username: 7) I hope you all enjoy!

-Story Start-

A gaudy Billboard hung over the busy square in the heart of Tokyo, "Two Nights Only: Sage Eclipse." The short brunette stared at it in disdain, her mother was on her world tour again. Her name wasn't even Sage or Eclipse. Her mother, Kayla Evans, just thought the stage name sounded more mystical. Layla Evans hated that kind of spotlight and tried her best to steer clear of her mother's fame and antics.

But still she always was dragged along, and then promptly ignored as mother did her media circuits. The girl took a puff off her joint, enjoying the blissful emptiness it brought. She preferred it to any other substance that she could take to numb her quirk, it numbed her just enough without completely smashing her inhibitions like alcohol did. It was always so so loud, and the bigger the city the louder it got. It made sense of course, when there was a large population, it included more dead too.

With a sigh she moved on from the busy street, not really paying much attention to her surroundings as she tried to just enjoy her high. She just looked like a foreigner, a delinquent probably. She took to wearing darker clothes, it became a personal preference. Layla was in a perpetual state of mourning. Loud shouting interrupted that lovely haze, shouting of the living. A deafening crash resonated, as a car flew through the air hitting the building beside her. She was momentarily startled, watching a hulking villain approach her. 'Well Shit,' was the last thing she thought before she felt herself flying through the air, hitting the now smoking car behind her. She could feel an explosion of pain before that peaceful nothingness.

"Little girl," she heard a man's voice say as she finally came to. He had dark hair with yellow streaks and glasses, his eyes yellow. "I'm surprised you survived such a blow." He helped her to a sitting position, careful with her, though she didn't seem to have any injuries. How peculiar.

"Woah, look at that blueberry," the apparently uninjured girl giggled then, looking past him to Bubble Girl. Nighteye cracked a smile, the dour looking girl had an infectious laugh. "You got a lot of underboob going on there." Nighteye hid a chortle as his sidekick looked offended. How many near death experiences whould she have!?

Nighteye figured just a little peek at her future wouldn't hurt, he supposed. He was very intrigued, after all. And he let his hand, nonchalantly touch her own. His eyes widened, the girl had an impressive quirk and a bright future. One of the most useful abilities he's seen in a while. The ability to speak to the dead, the ability to give them form even. What was she doing out here, getting high and thrown around like a sack of flour.

"Have you ever considered becoming a professional hero?" he had to put her on the right path. And he knew exactly who could help with that.

"M-me?" her smile faded, she patted her leather jacket with shaky hands, "I'd rather just not use my quirk at all, thank you very much." To his credit he didn't seem surprised as she produced a new joint, expertly rolled and ready for her to light up.

He just sighed, "so much wasted potential. You could do a world of good if you applied yourself."

She laughed humorlessly, she knew what he likely saw when he looked at her now. A young girl already throwing her life away, but he had no right to judge, "hey fuck you, alright? Potential isn't worth this bullshit I go through." She had a filthy mouth, partially from the company she would seek, dealers who would sell to a minor after she would tell them her sob story.

"You know, I could get you into the most prestigious school in Japan," he ignored the smoke she exhaled at him, the stuff was illegal in Japan but it wasn't that hard to come by nowadays.

"Ha, and what? Do you even know what I can do?"

"I know exactly what you're capable of," somehow his glasses flashed in the darkness of the streets, only the flashing billboards and lights from the tall buildings reached the two on the sidewalk. The world was still zooming around them. Police had roped off the unsafe crime scene and were moving along the civilians who had watched the fight. But all Nighteye could see were the scenes from her future if he only pushed her. "I am Sir Nighteye, I posses foresight." He was a bit smug at her gobsmacked look.

"You looked at my future? Is that allowed? You just looking into unconscious girl's futures for shits and giggles?"

He smiled, sure she acted offended, but she was obviously losing her steam against his offer, "I do when they survive a hit like that with no scratches to be seen. They had pronounced you dead just before you woke up. How could I not take a peek?" His wicked grin made her frown, he was so sure of himself.

"Then you know I'd rather not have to deal with any of this. It's too troublesome. Too painful. Too scary."

"Would it not be worth it if it saved lives?" Talking of the living wasn't going to earn him many points. To Layla it was all the same, living or dead. At her unchanged expression he tried one last trick, "what if I told you that you could meet your Soulmate if you became a hero?"

Layla's heart entered her throat, soulmate? Not many people had those, it was more rare to have a Soulmate than to be Quirkless. But she did, the words on her shoulder blade mocked her, "what does that matter? Not like it really means that much." Her words were weak, but the argument was true. Soulmates could be anything from enemies to lovers. They could just be platonic or worse for all she knew. Who wouldn't hope for love though? She might have been a bit of a hopeless romantic deep deep inside, past the trauma from her quirk, past the drug induced haze.

"Then stay on your path, become nothing but a shell of yourself," Nighteye went to stand up, but her hand stopped him, grabbing his suit sleeve.

"Do-" she was blushing then, she looked like an actual child finally, "does my soulmate love me?"

He didn't want to turn her from her future now, "if you continue down this path you will find your Soulmate and the love of your life." His yellow eyes met her own gray.

"I-I guess I could try," she looked down at her hand holding the joint that was forgotten while they talked. He held back a victorious grin when she dropped it to the sidewalk and stamped it's ember out. All it took was a phone call and she was in on recommendations. Who could say no to one of Nighteye's predictions?

Nighteye had a battle ahead of him. The girl, Layla Evans, was someone's daughter, a famous someone. While being a hero was prestigious, it was also dangerous for more than just the hero. He had to convince her guardians to let her attend UA. And so he followed her to a nearby hotel, not all that surprised when she clicked on the top floor, the penthouse suite. She let her room card get scanned before the lift took off. He saw in her future who her mother was, saw that her father was already dead too. He'd have to convince the starlet to let her daughter go.

"Layla Evans, where have you been?" the voice was almost bored, like she asked it hundreds of times and knew hundreds more were to come.

"Uh, yeah," she sounded embarrassed as she went to her mother, taking the older woman's hands. Maybe Nighteye wouldn't have to do much after all. The mother visibly softened. "I got caught up. Mom, meet pro hero, Sir Nighteye." She used her other hand to point her thumb behind her at the gentleman her mother just seemed to notice.

"Miss Evans," he bowed as he said it, he'd let the girl take charge for now.

"Hero? You didn't get in trouble again, did you?" the mother was back on guard.

"Me? Trouble? Never. He actually said he sees potential in me," she waited a beat to gauge her mom's reaction.

"Potential?! I've been telling you that your whole life, that you need to start touring with me."

"Mom, you know I don't want to be a walking Ouiji board for the masses," the girl crossed her arms, shutting herself off from the suggestion. From the expectations.

"Then what? Be a hero? Ha your grandfather tried to be a hero and look at where that got him!" She gestured next to her daughter, as if looking at the person in question.

"He was a hero and he died doing what he loved, helping others," the ghosts she could never get rid of, that she never wanted to get rid of, were her father and paternal grandfather. They watched over her, whenever she was sober they parented her too. She always stood up for them when her mom decided to bad mouth.

"And what, you rather do that than have my life," she gestured to the opulent room they stood in.

"Yes!" the girl sighed finally pulling out the big guns, "Sir Nighteye here has the quirk to foreshadow. He sees the future mom, he knows I'm destined for greatness. For more than putting on a monkey show. For more than running away from my powers, from the dead." It was what her mom wanted most, to embrace their shared quirk. Locking her in mausoleums when she was only eight was her idea of training.

That made the woman pause, she looked critically to the man standing behind her daughter. Nighteye gave her a nod, "she can do a world of good if we give her the chance."

And with that everything was settled, Kayla would happily pay for a little studio apartment near the school. Layla would report to both her and Nighteye of her progress. She had missed the first day of school as she got situated and comfortable with her surroundings. She was a special case, and it made her even more nervous to join so late. Her Japanese was atrocious so she had enlisted the help of a friendly bilingual ghost to translate for her, a young woman named Akito. Akito was once a tour guide who was killed in a villain attack on the capital building she had been giving a tour of. She was a naturally bubbly, helpful soul and it continued into her afterlife.

"Are you ready to go back to high school, Akito?" Layla was trying her best to ignore the ghosts that had invaded her privacy and focus just on her newest ghostly acquaintance.

"It'll be an honor to be able to explore UA," the ghost gave the girl an encouraging smile. She had a useful quirk, much more than her own of tracking lost things.

"At least one of us isn't nervous," Layla had the urge to light up as the voices kept talking over them. She had to be stronger. She'd finally be respected, she'd finally be useful, and she'd finally be loved. She smiled a little dopey grin as she tried to picture her soulmate. Was it a guy or girl? Were they strong? Smart? Kind? She let herself fall back onto her bed with a sigh. It better be worth all this trouble, was the last thing she thought before she fell into a fitful sleep.