Chapter Text
“Ah, Bakugo, was it?” The principle, Nezu, lifted his little head, smiling at the boy in the doorway.
Bakugo wavered for a moment in the doorway. Nezu pushed a few of the papers he was reading into a draw, “Come in.”
Bakugo dragged one of the seats in front of the desk and flopped down on it. He sat still for a moment. His expression—already fouled—seemed to ferment into something ugly in the silence before he straightened up suddenly and arranged the other chair so it was straight on with the desk as well. He growled something when he was finished that sounded like “You don’t have to say thank you every fucking time.”
Nezu waited to he was finished, already long used to strange behaviour. When Bakugo’s face had become a little less murderous, Nezu smiled at him. “First off, congratulations on passing the exam with such good scores,” He said, “I’m sure you’ll find a good home with UA.”
Bakugo said nothing.
“But I believe there was something you wanted to talk about?” Nezu asked.
Bakugo shifted in his seat. His shoulders tightened, and he let out a shallow sigh. “You’re a real asshole you know? Stop asking! I wouldn’t be hear if I’d changed my damn mind.”
Nezu was a little taken aback, before it became evident Bakugo wasn’t talking to him.
A boy materialised in the other seat. What Nezu saw first was the boy’s burn. It took up a little less than half of his face, a mess of red and black, destroying one eye and narrowly missing the other. It looked like it had exploded. The boy was a few years younger than Bakugo, with a mop of dark curly hair that glowed green in the sun like raven’s wings.
The boy looked nervous. He bunched his hands in his school shirt—a shirt that was crusted in blood over the wounded shoulder. He gave Nezu a little wave.
“His name is De—” Bakugo cut himself off sharply, like his throat seized up. He swallowed. “Midoriya Izuku.”
“Is he hurt?” Nezu asked.
Midoriya grimaced a little, and shook his head.
“It’s part of his quirk,” Bakugo said, pinching his brows with his fingers and thumb, like a headache was coming on. “I was there when he—you know,” Bakugo made a strange motion with his hands, “When he died.”
“Died?” Nezu blinked. “He—you’re a ghost?” Nezu looked at the blood-covered boy.
Midoriya tilted his head to the side, chewing his lip. His eyes looked glossy, wet.
“When he appeared just now,” Nezu said, “Could you see him before?”
“Yes,” Bakugo said, and after a moment of silence he continued. “He can’t touch anything and only I can hear him. That’s all I know.”
“When quirks are as common as they are, I suppose I should have considered the existence of ghosts,” Nezu scratched his furry chin, “But this is the first time I’ve taken them seriously. Is it a quirk, I wonder? But how?”
Bakugo’s shoulders tightened. Midoriya shot him a strange look which Bakugo avoided.
“He won’t be a problem. I just thought the teachers should know,” Bakugo said, and stood up. Midoriya faded like a phantom.
“Yes, yes,” Nezu said, “I suppose I should keep my curiosity to myself.”