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Still, Kirishima Eijirou wants to help.
“Hey, I’d like to check these out please.”
The librarian wordlessly begins to ring up the books Eijirou had placed on the desk. Eijirou studies his movements. They’re mechanic, in a way one wouldn’t expect from a delinquent-looking librarian. Professional, in a way one wouldn’t expect from someone with a shock to their blonde hair and a crimson red to their eyes. Quiet, in the most unexpected way of all.
It makes Eijirou sad.
He stares at the wisp of bleak color behind the boy. A ghost, haunting the story of the librarian. Eijirou wants to help her just as much as he wants to help the blonde boy. Bleach their stories, so they can start anew.
The ghost stares back.
“So,” Eijiirou turns over to the first page of their story. He leans his arms on the desk, “slow day, huh?”
The librarian pauses, a moment Eijirou catches because he looks for it. The librarian continues to ring his books. “Whatever.”
Eijirou and the ghost girl wince. The ghost girl, however, smiles blithely and wraps her arms around the librarian.
The librarian doesn’t register the contact.
Eijirou continues despite the unease of his nerves. “Hey, so, I’m new here, and I’m not really familiar with the area, so, like, I was wondering if you had time after this to give a guy a tour, maybe? Coffee’s on me.”
Eijirou goes for his winning smile, even if his nerves sweat out on his skin.
The librarian stares at him.
“No.”
Eijirou pouts. So much for civility. “Oh come on, please? I know we just met but us men gotta stick together, ya know? Please? A favor from one bro to another. I’ll owe you one.”
“No.”
No explanation. No excuses. No secondary obligations. Just a crisp, short, resounding negative.
Eijirou can’t help but respect it, even if he can’t give it the respect it deserves at the moment.
The ghost girl shakes at the librarian’s back. She’s laughing at him.
“Please?”
“No.”
“Pretty please?”
“No.”
“Pretty please with a cherry on top?”
The librarian snaps, as quick and fast and unexpected as a gunshot. “NO! N-O. No. What part of no do you not fucking understand?!”
Eijirou reels back. The contrast between quiet, reserved cat and raging, roaring lion is unreal. Also, horrible, horrible customer service.
The ghost girl buries her head in the crook of the librarian’s neck.
Eijirou powers through, despite everything. “The no part?”
The librarian rages, like a fire swallowing a log of wood. But, just as quickly as the fire flares, it dims. He stuffs Eijirou’s books in a bag and thrusts it into his arms. “Library’s closed.”
Eijirou can’t believe the librarian is actually a real person on this earth. He seems more like a fire god being put on trial in the human world, forced to live between mortals. A raging fire forever doused in a planet full of water.
He’s completely failing the customer service section of the trial.
The librarian walks off to the back. Eijirou doesn’t leave.
The ghost girl floats curiously over to him. She’s barely a human anymore, more a bleak, bleached, colorless ghost of one. She circles above him. Eijirou shivers a little when he sees the dashes of red at her stomach.
But that never stops him.
Eijirou gathers himself up, and puffs out his chest confidently. “I’m going to help him.”
The ghost girl smiles.
The librarian returns and does a double take when he spots Eijirou. He glowers and scowls and glares at Eijirou.
Horrible, horrible customer service.
The librarian thunders past him, without even speaking a word. Eijirou follows him anyway, the bag of books in his arms.
“So,” Eijirou continues, “about the tour—“
“Oh my fucking—“ The librarian whirls around so fast Eijirou nearly drops the books. “Put the books down. Now.”
Eijirou drops the books anyway.
The librarian clocks him.
It’s a full on roundhouse blow. The force connects with Eijirou’s face with a promise of everlasting pain. It’s so strong and unexpected, Eijirou falls over with it.
“The. library. is. fucking. closed.” The librarian stands over him like a demon about to eat a human soul. He grabs a fistful of Eijirou’s shirt and burns hatred into the back of Eijirou’s skull. “You have exactly one minute to get the fuck out of here before I fucking make you regret the day you were born. Now, get to it.”
The librarian rips his hand away and stalks off. The ghost girl waves at him and floats after the librarian.
Eijirou touches his stinging cheek and winces.
Horrible, horrible customer service.
*_*_*
Eijirou shows up the next day. The librarian stares at him like he’s grown a second head.
“The fuck’s your damage?”
Eijirou sighs and melts on the desk. “Ok, so, yesterday was the first time anyone ever roughed me up, and it really opened my eyes to a lot of things. Like, you know how in TV shows you see a lot of people punch other people to bring them back to reality? I always thought that was really cool and manly, but I didn’t know that it actually worked so—“ Eijirou sits up abruptly and stares at the librarian head-on, a steel to his eyes “— can I punch you?”
The ghost girl hugs her sides in soundless laughter. The librarian looks like he’s about to turn in the grave he’s not even in yet.
The librarian sighs. “I finish at six.”
Eijirou brightens up immediately and leans forward excitedly. “Is that a yes?”
The librarian leans back in disgust over the positivity. “Yes, now get the fuck out of my face until then.”
Eijirou cheers. The librarian doesn’t even try to shush him.
*_*_*
Eijirou shows up at six sharp. The librarian’s already locked up shop and is seemingly waiting for him.
Eijirou rushes over to him happily. “Hey, book boy! How’s your evening?”
“Don’t ever fucking call me book boy ever again. My name’s Bakugou.”
Eijirou inwardly cheers at this information. The librarian finally has a name.
“Just Bakugou?” Eijirou queers. They look about the same age. Surely, their past the ‘high school boys call each other by last name’ phase by now, right?
Bakugou stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Don’t push your luck. Come on.”
Bakugou begins to walk and Eijirou is quick to match his step. He doesn’t see the ghost girl anywhere but he’s sure she’s here somewhere.
“So, Bakugou-kun,” Eijirou starts, hoping to milk every chance this opportunity gives him. “You don’t really strike me as a book guy.”
“Yeah, well you didn’t really strike me as a fucking masochist at first, either.”
Eijirou blushes despite himself. “Well, what did I strike you as?”
“An idiot.”
“Oh my god! You said it! You really just said it! Do you really just go around calling people you don’t know idiots, Bakugou-kun?”
“No, and stop calling me Bakugou-kun.”
“Well, if I actually knew your full name, I could properly address you the way you want, Bakugou-sama.”
“Oh my fucking god. What is wrong with you?”
Bakugou stops walking and turns to him like he’s truly waiting for an answer.
Eijirou thinks about lying, but he feels the truth will take him leaps and bounds here more than a lie ever could. “I want to help you.”
“Help me?” Bakugou repeats incredulously, anger pooling at his face. “You don’t even fucking know me.”
“That’s why I wanted to get to know you better first! So it wouldn’t be weird.”
“This whole thing is already fucking weird, Hair for Brains.”
“Hey! My name’s Kirishima Eijirou. You would know that, if you had just asked.”
Bakugou ignores him. “We’re here.”
Eijirou refocuses on their surroundings. They’re in a deserted park in an area he’s never been to before. The sun is just starting to dip into the horizon, and the dimming light gives the abandoned play set an eerie look.
This is where he’s going to punch Bakugou the Fire God. It’s quite fitting.
The ghost girl is still nowhere to be found. He’s going to have to settle for his audience of trees.
Bakugou slumps a few more steps in front of Eijirou before finally turning around.
“Let’s just get this fucking over with so I can go home.”
“Oh, come on, Bakugou! Lighten up a bit!” Eijirou gestures animatedly around the park. “Look, the setting’s perfect. It’s sunset. We’re in abandoned park. I’m gonna punch you. Don’t you want to say something to commemorate this manly occasion? An official fight challenge? A villain speech? A confession?”
“No.”
Eijirou’s shoulder slump, but he’s quick to recover. He takes a stance in front of Bakugou and pulls his fists close to his body. “Well, I, for one, am going to pour my feelings into this punch and then maybe you’ll feel the manliness.”
Bakugou doesn’t say anything. He just braces himself, like he’s about to take on a whole world that’s against him. The backlit of the sunset truly makes him out to be an immortal, and there’s a sharp sort of something in his eyes that Eijirou wants to figure out.
Eijirou punches him.
Bakugou doesn’t say anything for a moment but then he blinks. “That’s it?”
Eijirou pouts. “What do you mean ‘that’s it’? I really put all my feelings into it!”
Bakugou brings a hand to his forehead. “First of all, that’s not how you throw a fucking punch.”
Bakugou approaches him and yanks his wrist. “You put your thumb like this and not in the inside of your fist like a fucking idiot.”
“But I did do that!”
“No, you fucking didn’t. Second, your stance is all wrong. Your feet should be further apart, and you should stand more to the side.”
Bakugou kicks his feet until whatever he deems is an appropriate distance, and then yanks him until he’s standing more sideways. “Third, don’t fucking swing out your arm like a drunk idiot, you have to be quick about it, and your arm should be here—“
Bakugou stops talking abruptly, and stares at Eijirou like he’s seeing him for the first time. There’s a raw sort of horror to his face Eijirou would never expect to see on someone like Bakugou. It screams wrong wrong wrong.
“Bakugou? Bakugou, what’s wrong?”
“You’re…” Bakugou swallows heavily, “You’re not…”
Bakugou looks down and grabs at his hair. Eijirou sees a raw sort of smile that looks anything but happy cross his face.
“I’m an idiot,” he says, forcefully pulling at his hair, “I’m a fucking idiot.”
Eijirou drops his stance. He hovers over Bakugou, dying, wishing, hoping he can somehow help this person so far out of his reach. “Bakugou? Bakugou, are you ok?”
Bakugou shoves him out of the way and marches off. “I’m going home. Don’t ever fucking show your face at the library again.”
“Bakugou!” Eijirou tries, reaching out to grab the back of the librarian’s jacket. The story is not over yet. The story is not over yet. “Bakugou, wait!”
Eijirou’s fingers just miss Bakugou’s jacket.
The librarian forces the chapter to end.
*_*_*
No matter how many times Eijirou shows up, Bakugou doesn’t speak a word to him.
The ghost girl is furious. She uses every chance Bakugou’s back is turned to throw books at him. Eijirou’s never met two people who are so physical before. He comes back home every day with battle scars to show his cat.
“I don’t know what to do, Luna,” he whines, burying his head in the fur of his black cat. She growls irately and swipes at him.
Eijirou nearly cries. Even his cat is mad at him.
He flops down on the floor and stares up at the ceiling. If only the ghost girl could communicate with him, then maybe he could find a way to help Bakugou.
Maybe… maybe if she could make books fly, then maybe, just maybe, she could move a pen?
*_*_*
The ghost girl hurls ten books at him before he can get her to calm down.
“Please! I want to help! If you would just help me out here—“ A book connects with his face, and he drops the notebook and pen on reflex. The ghost girl’s hair flares out wildly. It’s a testament to how angry she is that she manages vibrancy despite the bleakness of her features.
The pen floats up and moves against the notebook of its own accord.
You made him cry! it screams, dark and bold and black against the white paper. You said you would help! You made him cry!
“I-I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I… I didn’t mean to…” Eijirou has never before felt like such a heel as much as he does now. What does it take, what does it truly take to make a man like Bakugou cry?
Another book connects with his head. Tears pull from his eyes even if he doesn’t want them to. “I’m trying! I’m really trying! But it’s just so hard ok!”
The assault of books finally seems to die down. Eijirou is staring at the ground, trying and failing to stop the water at his eyes. The faded color of the ghost girl appears in his vision. Eijirou looks up at her.
There’s a sort of sadness at in her eyes Eijirou thinks only the dead can have. She places a hand on his and, even without the notebook, Eijirou can see the I’m sorry at her lips.
Eijirou stares at the ghost girl’s hand. Even if he can see it and he can acknowledge its existence, he can’t feel anything at all. There’s no skin touching his or warmth conveyed. No coldness at the touch, or pressure at all. There’s just nothing there.
Eijirou wonders, for a moment, what it’s like, holding someone so tight, so firm, grasping their hand so hard, so desperate, begging, wishing for them to feel the support echoing in the tightness of their grip, and for that person to never feel a thing.
That’s what really makes him cry.
“What the hell is going on back there—“
Eijirou finally hears Bakugou the Librarian speak for the first time in weeks. It makes him cry harder.
He can’t see it, but he’s pretty sure Bakugou is staring at him like a deer in headlights.
“Why the fuck are you crying?”
Eijirou tries to answer, but all that comes out are hiccups and sobs. Bakugou scans the area, taking notice of all the falling books. He scratches the back of his head, and doesn’t look at Eijirou.
“It’s not the end of the world,” he mumbles, furiously running a hand through his hair. “Accidents happen, ok? Stop crying about it.”
“B—but—! B-but—!” Eijirou rubs at his eyes, but the tears continue to make rivers down his cheeks.
Bakugou continues to be severally uncomfortable with the situation.
“Look,” Bakugou drops to his knees and starts gathering up the fallen books. “I’m not mad. Stop crying.”
“I-if you’re not mad, why won’t y-you talk to me?” Eijirou manages between sobs.
Bakugou starts running his hand through his hair again.
“It’s not—“ Bakugou yanks on his hair hard and finally yells, “It’s not fucking personal, ok? I was just being stupid.” Bakugou still doesn’t look at him. “It’s not your fault, so stop crying.”
“Y-you’ll start talking to me again?”
Bakugou looks severely constipated.
“Yeah, whatever.”
“S-so if I say, ‘hi’, you’ll actually respond? And if I say, ‘good morning’, you’ll say, ‘good morning to you, too’? And if I-I ask about your day, you’ll answer?”
Bakugou could not possibly look anymore pained with the situation.
“Yes. Fucking yes. Hi. Good morning. How the fuck are you. All that shit. Just—stop crying.”
“Ok.”
Bakugou looks so surprised that actually worked Eijirou can’t help but laugh at him.
Then he looks pissed off, like this whole thing’s just been a conspiracy so he would make up with Eijirou.
“Son of a—“
Behind the irate Bakugou, the ghost girl smiles.
Kirishima Eijirou’s story with the librarian continues.
*_*_*
“So,” Eijirou begins, leaning on Bakugou’s desk, “what’s your favorite color?”
Bakugou continues to look like he regrets the day he made up with Eijirou, which means he looks very, very constipated. “Why the fuck is that important?”
“Just tell me.”
“…red— don’t fucking laugh!”
“B-but, it’s so obvious!”
“Shut the hell up.”
Eijirou’s chuckles fill him up with a happy feeling. “Ok, when’s your birthday?”
“You do know I’m doing fucking work here, right?”
“Oh, come on, all you do is sit there all day looking miserable.”
“I fucking do not.”
“Do too.”
Bakugou chooses to ignore him rather than fall for the tactic. Eijirou pouts, but takes the opportunity to look for the ghost girl. He’s been seeing less and less of her lately, which is a good sign, but he’s still seeing her.
There’s still parts to this story he hasn’t discovered yet.
“Hey, you free on Friday?”
Bakugou stiffens.
The ghost girl makes a reappearance. She floats down and presses into Bakugou’s back. Eijirou can barely see her anymore.
“No.”
“Oh come on, man, you’re never free.” Eijirou slumps on the desk further. A thought strikes him, so empowering he speaks it before he can think. “Wait, is it a date? Is Bakugou Katsuki going on a date?”
“Yeah.”
“Nah, it couldn’t be, it’s probably just some book nerd librarian thing—wait what?”
Bakugou doesn’t elaborate. Eijirou is brimming with one thousand and one questions.
“Oh, don’t be like that! I can’t believe you, the librarian, are going on a date without me!”
“What does being a librarian have to do with anything? And why the fuck would I take you with me on a date?”
“I thought we had something special.”
Bakugou scoffs. “In your dreams, taco boy.”
Eijirou turns three different shades of red. “That was one time!”
“I can’t fucking believe I associate with you sometimes.”
“Don’t call me an associate, Bakugou-kun! We’re, like, totally BFF!”
“Like I would be friends with someone who still uses the term ‘BFF’.”
Eijirou sulks. Bakugou is totally his friend. Maybe even more than that sometimes. He was just being a tsundere about it.
“I don’t believe you’re going on a date, “ Eijirou proclaims, folding his arms. “I’m here all the time. How come I never see this person you’re close enough to go with a date on?”
Unexpectedly, there’s faraway, bitter look in Bakugou’s eyes. Eijirou thinks, this is it, the part of the story I have yet to reach.
The ghost girl pops her head out from behind Bakugou and smiles at Eijirou.
The anticipation wraps around Eijirou like a warm blanket on a cold winter day.
Has he finally reached the ghost girl chapter?
*_*_*
On Friday, Eijirou discreetly follows after Bakugou as he closes up the library and walks toward the train station.
The ghost girl trails after Bakugou. She’s faded away to a color that’s barely there anymore. She’s transparent, but she still exists.
Bakugou walks normally. He reaches the station, buys a ticket to Mustafu and waits silently for the train. Eijirou buys a ticket too and waits a few paces away from Bakugou.
He studies the boy as they wait. Bakugou Katsuki, the protagonist of a story that seems to have reached its climax. There’s something resigned about him. He paints a picture, standing with an invisible weight on his shoulder as the ghost girl holds his hand. A protagonist ready for his red strings of fate to be cut so he can finally have a normal life.
Eijirou think it’s a very manly picture.
The train arrives and Eijirou somehow manages to get into the same cubicle as Bakugou. The librarian somehow manages to raid the delinquent aura even in something as simple as riding a train. Eijirou is sort of jealous in a way. How can he look so cool like that?
The train ride lasts half an hour before Bakugou finally disembarks. Eijirou manages to follow him but the ghost girl finally seems to have spotted him. She waves at him. He waves back, at the expanse of getting strange look from the people walking by.
It’s snowy in Mustafu.
Eijirou dogs Bakugou’s footprints. The cold bites at his fingers but his jacket keeps him warm. He hopes Bakugou isn’t cold, seeing as his jacket isn’t very thick.
It’s the ghost girl, though, that captures his attention in this snowy street. She’s regaining her colors, her skin peach, her hair a lush brown, her clothes a mishmash of sorts. She drips red on the white snow as she trails after Bakugou and Eijirou sidesteps that sad, aching red.
It takes a while, but Bakugou finally seems to reach his destination.
It’s a cemetery; of course it’s a cemetery. There’s a ghost in the story, therefore the story has to end in a cemetery.
The ghost girl turns and floats toward him as Bakugou walks in. Before he can say anything, she touches his cheeks and, suddenly, he isn’t in a cemetery anymore.
“Katsuki-kun, hurry up! We’re gonna be late!”
“No, we’re not. We’re going to be there half an hour before it even fucking starts.”
She pouts and grips his hand. “Not if we walk.”
“Whatever.”
They walk in silence as the cold seeps into their bones. The street lights are dim, but the stars shine bright. It may be cold, but the warmth between their hands keeps them warm.
“You know, Katsuki-kun, we’ve been dating for a long time. Like, a super long time.”
They slow a little in their walk. Bakugou looks a little nervous.
“Yeah?”
“So, I was wondering,” she swings their hands happily and then looks at him, “do you want to marry me?”
Bakugou stares at her.
She takes it the wrong way.
“Joking! I was just joking!”
“Yeah, sure.”
She stares at him.
“Eh?”
“Yeah I’ll fucking marry you.”
She stares at him for an entire minute. Then she squeals and leaps at him.
“Hey—!”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes! I-I didn’t think that would work!”
“What—why the fuck are you crying?”
“I-I’m just, really, truly, happy.”
Bakugou doesn’t say anything. He just wraps his arms around her and continues walking.
They reach a stoplight. She finally slides off of him.
“Ah, man, my mascara’s ruined.”
“Nobody’s gonna notice.”
“It’s the idea, Katsuki-kun. Now everyone’s gonna think you made me cry.”
“Whatever.”
She looks up as she rubs at her cheeks. “Hey look, it’s green! Let’s go!”
She grabs his hand and rushes out in front of him. She looks back and smiles at him.
“I love you, Katsuki-kun.”
Her fingers slip from his grasp.
The truck hits her.
Eijirou starts to cry.
The ghost girl floats in a different direction. Eijirou manages to follow after her through his tears.
When he finally reaches the grave, Bakugou looks resigned to see him there.
“I knew you wouldn’t fucking mind your own business.”
“I-I’m sorry.”
Bakugou looks back at the gravestone. Eijirou continues to sniffle and sob.
Bakugou gets fed up after ten seconds.
“Would you stop crying! It’s not like she was your fucking girlfriend!”
“B-But it’s sad!”
Bakugou reaches out and roughly messes up his hair. “Yeah, well… get over it.”
Bakugou stares at the gravestone again. The ghost girl stands in front of it. Ever so slowly, she begins to fade.
“It’s what she would have wanted.”
The ghost girl becomes a wisp of what was once Uraraka Ochako. She keeps smiling, even as her existence slowly melts away.
“I fucking love you too, you idiot.”
Uraraka blinks rapidly at that. Just as she begins to cry, her eyes fade away, and Uraraka Ochako disappears forever.
Eijirou loses it. He throws himself at Bakugou and cries even harder.
“Oh my fucking god, stop.”
“I-I love you too, man!”
“I wasn’t even fucking talking to you!”
“I-I know, but… still.”
Bakugou resigns himself to the awkward fate of standing still as someone cries against him.
And with that, the story of the librarian, the ghost, and the ghost whisperer comes to an end.