Work Text:
“Why are we here again?”
“Ghost hunting!” Mina chirped, swinging her flashlight across the hallway. Just like before, there was nothing there.
Katsuki sighed, his body tense, uncomfortable at being back at his old school. It had been shut down after Deku had died - according to some reports, he’d hung himself in one of the classrooms. It had been a closed-casket funeral, paid for and organized by the school as an apology of sorts. The school had been closed down soon after.
Apparently, there were now rumors of it being haunted, and ghost-enthusiast that she was, Mina had dragged him and the rest of the idiots along for a ghost hunting trip.
The hallways were dark and derelict, and their shoes clattered against the old tiles, which were scuffed and dull. Katsuki bit back a snort. His teachers would have been horrified to see the school they were so proud of in this kind of state. He watched as the flashlight Mina was holding swept over cracked windows and classrooms left ajar. Mina was humming, a skip in her step as she examined the hallways, occasionally poking her head - and the light - into a classroom door.
None of them were Katsuki’s old rooms, thankfully.
“If you’re going to catch a ghost, you’re not going to do it like that,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes.
Eijiro elbowed him. ‘C’mon, Bakubro! Don’t be such a downer! Even if we don’t find anything, it’ll be fun!”
“Yeah, dude,” Sero said. He shrugged. “It’ll be fun. It’s not like we’re taking it seriously.”
“Y-Yeah,” Kaminari said, still glancing around. Out of all of them, he was the most scared at the possibility of a ghost, but he had insisted on coming.
Katsuki rolled his eyes, shoulders slumping as they continued through the hallways. He’d chosen his position in the middle of the group deliberately, not wanting to deal with more of this nightmare place than he had to. Every step he took was just another reminder of what had happened here, who he had been and the mistakes he had made.
Eventually, the hallway opened into a larger area - an auditorium. Mina turned around to look at them with a grin.
“You know what this means, gang,” she said, hands on her hips. “Let’s split up! You all grabbed your flashlights, right?”
Reluctantly, Katsuki pulled his flashlight out of the pocket on his belt, turning it on. By the time the others had gotten theirs out of their various bags, the room was significantly lighter, lit by the different lights. Jiro, who had been quiet this whole trip, was twisting one of her jacks around a finger, glancing around at the hallways that led away. Mina grinned at them, looking around as well.
“I wonder why they say it’s haunted,” Jiro said, “We haven’t experienced anything yet.”
‘Simple, ghosts don’t like big groups!” Mina said, ‘That’s why we’re splitting up!”
“This is gonna go horribly,” Katsuki said.
Eijiro gave him a look.
“What?” he asked, “I’m right. Every time the group in a horror movie splits up, things go wrong! It’s horror movie 101!”
“Damn, you’re genre-savvy,” Sero said.
“Of course I am, I watched Scream. The originals.” Katsuki said, deadpan.
“... Well, either way,” Mina said, “we’re still doing it. Let’s see what we find, shall we? Who wants to go where?”
Walking down the hallway, Kyouka spun her light around in a circle, trailing the walls around her. She wasn’t really taking this seriously, considering, well, ghosts, but it was fun enough. It was sure to be energizing, at least.
“Wait up!” Kaminari called, rushing to catch up with her. He’d insisted on teaming up with someone, saying that they would notice more that way. Kyouka doubted that, but she knew he was just hiding fear, so she let him come.
She slowed down a bit as he caught up to her, walking beside her as they wandered through the old school.
“Did Bakugou seem off to you?” he asked, running his light across the ceiling.
“What do you mean?” she asked back.
Kaminari shrugged, focusing his light back in front of them. “He seemed like he was used to this place, somehow.”
“Huh.” Kyouka slowed to a stop, realizing that he was right. She thought for a moment. “Didn’t he say he grew up in this area? Mustafa, I mean? Maybe this used to be his school before it closed down.”
Kaminari nodded. “Yeah, you’re right, that would make sense… Hey, look, that door’s open!”
Kyouka looked ahead to where he was pointing, and, sure enough, saw a wide-open door. “Looks like it’s a bathroom,” she said, squinting at the worn-away sign.
“Let’s check it out,” Kaminari said, grinning, and she rolled her eyes but followed him in.
Sure enough, it was a bathroom - a boy’s bathroom, if the line of urinals said anything. The toilet stall doors were open, but, surprisingly, the room smelled pretty clean. She wondered if they’d actually cleaned, or if it had just been so long that anything capable of smelling had rotted away. There was old graffiti on the stalls - typical of a middle school bathroom. She sighed, ready to write the room off and leave.
Her flashlight sputtered, and she hit the bottom of it, restoring the light. Huh, she hadn’t been using it that long, her batteries shouldn’t be wearing out this fast…
That was when Kaminari’s flashlight started to flash as well. Hey looked at each other over the strobing beam of light, and in a moment of irrational fear, they ran to the door.
It slammed shut before they’d barely made a step forward.
The lights in the bathroom flashed on, even though there shouldn’t be power, and her fear built. Kaminari squeaked as his flashlight went out, struggling to turn it back on and failing before finally flipping the off switch to at least save the battery. Kyouka could hear his breathing - quick and shallow - and was suddenly aware that her breathing had changed, too.
She turned toward the mirror, the lights still flashing above them, and gulped.
“Kaminari,” she said, not taking her eyes away from the image, “I know I’m a skeptic, but there’s something here with us.”
There in the mirror, standing behind them, was the image of a boy. He had fluffy green hair and was wearing a gakuran. His smile was an empty black, and his eyes were gone - empty sockets stared at her, blood leaking down. His neck was bent at an unnatural angle.
“What is it?” Kaminari asked, looking over. He saw the image in the mirror, and screamed.
The scream shook Kyouka out of her stupor, and she ran to the door, heaving it open and holding it just long for Kaminari to get out before bolting herself, flashlight illuminating the world in front of her once again, not that she noticed much. She could hear a clanging noise, slowly fading as they got further and further away from the bathroom.
She only stopped when they’d made it back to the auditorium.
Hanta swung the small beam of light coming from his flashlight into the open door of the janitor’s closet he’d found, cringing. This place was dirty… It made sense though, given that it had been abandoned for at least three years.
He stepped away, leaving the door open as he made his way down the hallway towards the teachers’ offices. He wondered if any of them had left anything… It would be fun to see what kid of stuff they were hiding here, if nothing else.
Hey, wasn’t this Bakugou’s school? He’d have to ask him what it was like when it was still open.
His footsteps clacked against something, and he looked down to find a piece of broken tile dislodged from where it used to sit. He wondered if it had been broken like this before the school shut down, or if something had happened to it. He couldn’t imagine something breaking like this just because it was old; it looked like it had been hit by something. He kicked the piece that had somehow come free from its resting place aside, checking the little directory signs to make sure he was going in the right direction.
His flashlight started to flicker a little bit, and he hit the bottom of it to get it to stop, wondering if the batteries were loose somehow.
He followed the signs the rest of the way to what he assumed was the principal’s office, assuming he would double back to check the rest. His flashlight started to sputter again when he walked through the door, but a couple of whacks to the bottom stopped that.
He grinned when he saw that the chair behind the desk was still in pretty good shape, dropping into it as he began rooting through the drawers. There were tons of student files, and he set Bakugou’s to the side to see if there was anything interesting, digging deeper and deeper. At first there didn’t seem to be much besides boring paperwork and some photos of what he assumed were old students. Then, his hand settled on something metal, small, with a few ridges. Pulling it out, he found a key in his hand.
Things just got a lot more interesting.
He dropped out of the chair to examine the desk, finding that one of the drawers had a keyhole. He held up the small key and slid it in, hearing the satisfying click of a mystery he was about to find.
A scream sounded from somewhere a bit away, followed by a loud clanging noise. Hanta froze for a moment, then shook his head - that was Kaminari, he could tell. He’d probably just found a spider or something.
Hanta shrugged and turned back to the drawer, pulling it open to find…
What was that?
He pulled out a leather and metal contraption, holding it up to the light. (When did the lights in the room turn on? Since when had there been power?) Was that a muzzle?
He grinned to himself, about to make a joke to the empty room, when he realized something. The muzzle was far too small to be for a partner, it would have barely fit him - but it wasn’t the right shape for a dog. And, now that he was looking closer, was that blood on the edge of it?
A chill ran down his spine, and he got the sudden feeling that he was being watched. The lights above him began to flash, as did his flashlight. He wasn’t alone anymore.
Slowly, hesitantly, he turned around. Directly behind him, surrounded by a black and red aura of sorts, was a boy. A boy with curly green hair and freckles, his neck bent at an unnatural angle. There were wounds, some old and covered with deep scars, some fresh and still bleeding, around his mouth. A perfect mimicry of the shape of the muzzle.
Hanta screamed.
Katsuki sighed, turning in a circle in the auditorium, wondering where to go. He didn’t exactly want to revisit his old classrooms, not after everything, but he couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d want to go. He threw his hands up in a shrug to the empty room and closed his eyes, deciding to turn in a circle and choose a random direction to go in. He never really explored this place after all, there had to be somewhere that he hadn’t been before.
Something hit the ground. He opened his eyes, looking around for the source of the noise, until he saw it - an old metal can, probably pulled from the prop room, rolled across the floor and stopped at his feet. He rolled his eyes, it was probably just one of the others trying to freak him out or something.
He turned towards a random hallway and walked towards it, glancing back just once with his hand on the entrance. He didn’t see the ghostly figure hovering over the old auditorium stage.
He trailed his light over the walls lazily, barely paying attention to the names or numbers on them, uncaring.
”It’s your fault.”
Katsuki blanched, freezing in his tracks. He looked around, swinging his light - heavy, police grade - in a circle around him, but there was nothing. But he’d heard a voice, he was sure of it. He’d heard a voice that he shouldn’t have, the voice of someone who had died years ago and who shouldn’t be able to ever speak again.
But even so, he’d heard Izuku’s voice, not accusing or angry, just factual. It was his fault, he knew that.
He shook his head. He must have just imagined it - this was their old school, and the place where Izuku had died, after all. It was just making him feel guilty. A deserved guilt, of course, but one caused simply by the environment. It wasn’t like Izuku was actually here, that was impossible.
He continued down the hallway, occasionally swinging it behind just to make sure he wasn’t being followed - he suddenly had the feeling that someone was watching him. He made his way past old, faded decorations, briefly remembering that they had been bright and colorful once upon a time. There was a door at the end of the hall, left slightly open, more than the rest of the classrooms this way. He pushed it open further, stepping in and closing it slightly as he looked around. A brief sensation of weight covered him, like hands on his shoulder. He swore he could feel breath near his ear.
”I missed you, Kacchan~” murmured Izuku’s voice, a vocalization of something Katsuki had longed to hear.
His eyes caught something in the middle of the room. An old, overstuffed and painfully familiar yellow backpack sat on the floor, accompanied by a pair of red sneakers.
Why the hell was Izuku’s stuff still here?!
He stepped towards it, and was suddenly overcome with the feeling that Izuku was there with him - an invisible presence, so memorable and distinct. He dropped to his knees as he reached the backpack, hand hovering over it, about to grab the worn strap that was so close to snapping. A sudden warmth surrounded him, like there was someone right behind him. He swore he felt two arms wrap around his chest, a head on his shoulder, but a glance down confirmed that there was no one there. He didn’t know why, but he felt like crying.
”It’s your fault, but I forgive you.”
It felt so much like Izuku’s embrace that it hurt.
Eijiro glanced at the walls around him, staring at the old decorations. He kept track of the numbers on each door he passed, realizing suddenly that there wasn’t a thirteen. The people who founded it must have been the superstitious type.
He pushed open a door at random, looking up as he heard footsteps. Sero paused at the end of the hallway, panting as he walked over.
“Hey, dude.”
Eijiro raised an eyebrow. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Sero grinned at him. “Honestly, I’m pretty sure I have.”
Eijiro shrugged a bit. “Well, c’mon.” He pushed open the door to a random classroom, glancing inside.
Sero stepped up to his side, looking inside. “Doesn’t seem to be anything. Let’s check another one.”
Eijiro nodded and stepped back, pushing open the doors they passed as they glanced inside. “What happened?”
“This place is messed up, man,” Sero said, swinging his flashlight beam across the inside of the classrooms. “I found an actual muzzle fit for a child in the principal’s desk. In a locked drawer, too.”
“How’d you get in?” Eijiro asked, turning to his friend.
“Found the key in another drawer.” Sero pushed open a door standing ajar, shining his flashlight inside. “Pretty sure I saw an actual ghost, too. Are we gonna choose one of these or just check them all?”
Eijiro paused in front of one door, seeing the names on the walls outside it. “I think this was Bakubro’s room; let’s check it out. And a ghost? Like, an actual real ghost?”
“Yep,” Sero said, jiggling the doorknob until it opened and stepping inside. “Boy with green hair, I think? His mouth, man… His mouth.There were cuts around it that pretty much lined up exactly with the muzzle.”
“Damn,” Eijiro said, walking in behind him. He ran his light over the walls, seeing typical classroom stuff - there was a whiteboard and a blackboard, a line of lockers against the back wall. He walked over to them, jiggling the locks. If only Jiro was here, they might be able to unlock them… Or he could just force it, probably.
Sero picked up a dry-erase marker and uncapped it, running it over the board and watching the black line it made. “Hey! Some of the markers still work!” He wiped the line away with his sleeve, grinning as he started to doodle.
Eijiro took one of the locks in his hand, fitting his thumb under the shackle as he activated his quirk. With a quick pull, he heard it snap, and the lock came away in his hand. Pulling it open, he looked through it, finding mostly unfinished homework. He turned around to see Sero drawing increasingly graffiti-like things on the board, including dicks. He laughed as he dropped the papers and walked over to john them, picking up a marker.
Something hit him in the head.
He jolted, him and Sero turning around. There was no one else there, but one of the blackboard erasers was now sitting on the ground, about a foot away from them after bouncing off the back of Eijiro’s head.
Then the lights came on. Blinking, Eijrio made eye contact with Sero, and they both started for the door.
It slammed shut. The lights started to flicker and Eijiro’s breathing got faster as he looked around in a panic, catching glimpses of a figure whenever the light allowed it. A gust of wind picked up and the rest of the lockers slammed open, their locks groaning and cracking as they were ripped apart. A storm of paper swirled around them and Eijiro covered his head with his arms, panicking. The room seemed to spin around him, and a screeching sound reached his ears, creating a staggering and confusing mix of sounds and sights. He could feel his legs buckling, and reached to shield his head from the fall.
When his knees hit the floor, everything stopped. He looked up at Sero, panting, and the shocked look on his friend’s face confirmed that it had been real. He looked over to the board and gulped.
In large, capital letters, their drawings had been replaced with the word ‘leave’. Sero seemed to see it too. Turning around, he saw that the door was open now, and stumbled to his feet.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said, and Sero nodded without argument. They hurried through the door and slammed it behind them, breaking into a run the father away they got.
Mina hummed as she made her way down a hallway, taking turns in whatever direction felt right. She had a skip in her step; despite how dangerous it could be, exploring abandoned places like this was always exciting. Even if there weren’t any ghosts, it was the thrill of the hunt that made her keep trying. She grinned as she swung her flashlight from side to side, occasionally switching hands and just messing around with it. She was far out of earshot of the others, she thought, so there was nothing that could interrupt her.
She shifted her bag higher on her shoulder, wondering when she should sit down and set up the rest of her stuff. She’d probably do it once her friends were all gathered back in the auditorium, honestly, so that they could all mess around with her setup. In her bag, she had a spirit box, a small radio, an EMF meter, and a thermal camera to catch any ghosts that were there.
She had never been in the habit of filming her ghostly encounters, or sharing the footage, since she believed that even the dead should have their privacy and she knew they often didn’t want to be filmed. That was why her friends had doubted her when she wanted to go ghost hunting, even though she knew the signs of a genuine haunted building, and this was not her first rodeo. The bag was heavy, but it had all the necessities for ghost hunting, along with her phone and some snacks and water bottles just in case.
“Hello?” she called out, getting no answer except for the sound of her voice echoing back. This place felt like an apocalyptic wasteland - cracked tiles and fading paint, no sign of human life currently but clear signs that it used to be there. She’d gotten used to the feeling a long time ago. Being raised by a dad and brother who were urban explorers did that to you.
She heard something clatter to the floor and stopped. “Hello?” she called again. “I promise I’m not recording you, I won’t tell anyone you're here.” But there was no response.
Slowly, she turned around, expecting to come face to face with the ghost of a murdered child or something - what she didn’t expect was a boy only a few years younger than herself. He was wearing a gakuran, and there were bruises on his face and wrists, like he had been grabbed. Old scars were lined around his mouth, and he was wearing an eyepatch, but she couldn’t see anything that would indicate a cause of death. He had healthy-looking skin and green hair and green eyes, and he was so clear that she would have thought he was just a normal person if not for his slightly transparent appearance and the way he floated. He pointed further down the hallway, not seeming to see her.
“There,” he whispered, and flickered into nothingness. He was the clearest ghost Mina had ever seen.
She turned and saw what he had been pointing at - a classroom. She came to a stop in front of the closed door, reaching out to test the doorknob. It opened easily, like there was something inside that the ghost wanted to be found.
Her eyes settled on a desk covered in a pile of spider lilies. Red spider lilies. She could only imagine that they were meant for whoever used to sit at that desk, and frowned. Such a cruel gesture…
Then she noticed the shoes. They hung down over the flowers, her mind having skipped over them in favor of the bright red of the lilies. She followed them up, and saw it.
Oh.
Oh god.
That… was certainly something for a ghost to stick around because of.
She came face to face with the corpse hanging from the ceiling, and she felt like she was going to be sick.
“And that was when we decided to get the heck out of there,” Kirishima said, relaying the events that had just transpired to Jiro and Kaminari, who he and Sero had run into when they made it back to the auditorium.
“Good choice,” said Jiro, leaning back on her hands. “We got accosted in the bathroom.”
Sero raised an eyebrow.
“Jiro shrugged a bit. “I looked up and there was a dead boy in the mirror. The door slammed shut and when we got it open something started happening. I didn’t look back to check what the clanging was, but it was loud.”
Sero nodded. “So that’s why Kaminari was screaming. Hey, what did he look like?”
Kaminari sat up. “Did you see him too?”
Sero tilted his head. “Green hair and freckles? Wearing a gakuran? Yeah, he showed up when I found that muzzle in the principal’s desk.”
“A muzzle?!” Jiro gasped.
Sero nodded. “It was in a locked drawer. He showed up behind me I could see the wounds around his mouth.”
“Shit…” Kaminari said. “This place is fucked up.”
“Yeah,” Kirishima said. “What about you, Bakubro? Did you see anything?”
Katsuki shook his head. He was holding onto an overstuffed backpack and a pair of red shoes, things he’d stumb;led back into the room holding after the others were there. He was unusually quiet, staring down at the objects, almost seeming like he wasn’t entirely there. His eyes were swollen and red from crying, and had been since he’d first shown up.
“Didn’t see anything,” he said quietly, ‘Heard some stuff, though.”
“Like what?” Jiro asked, leaning forward.
Katsuki shrugged one shoulder. “A voice. Sounded like one of my old classmates.”
“Damn,” Kaminari said. “Maybe the ghost is them.”
Katsuki was silent.
Jiro sighed. “We know you know something, Katsuki. What is it?”
Katsuki looked like he was about to say something, but then Eijiro’s phone started to ring. He pulled it out, quickly answering.
“Mina? Yeah? What is it?” he asked, putting the phone speaker on.
“I… I think I found the reason this place is haunted,” Mina said, and suddenly all attention was on the phone.
“Where are you?” Sero asked, leaning forward.
“Room one forty-five,” she answered.
They all looked at each other. Katsuki spoke up.
“I know where that is,” he said, pushing himself up. “I can lead you there.”
Kirishima nodded. “We’ll be there in a moment,” he said to the phone, and hung up.
“Well? Come on,” Katsuki said, waiting as they all scrambled to their feet. Soon rough, they were off, wandering down long forgotten hallways.
Katsuki made his way carefully through the halls, walking the familiar route to what used to be his homeroom. With each step, he became more and more aware of a presence watching him, settling at his side. But he wasn’t scared, not when it felt familiar and saddening and comforting and he knew exactly who it was. Not when the old backpack slung over his shoulder weighed heavy on his mind, wondering why none of it had been returned to his auntie.
He finally turned to the corner whereMina was standing, hand shaking as it rested on the handle of the door. She looked pale, and when she looked over at them, there was trepidation in her eyes.
“Be careful,” she said, “If you get queasy easily, I wouldn’t look.”
The small group shared confused glances, and Katsuki shrugged, stepping forward and shrugging the backpack off, setting it to the side. Mina stepped back, taking a deep breath, and Katsuki took her place in front of the old wooden door. He closed his eyes as he turned the knob, feeling the click of it opening and pushing it inward. He heard his friends gasp as it swung open, and opened his eyes, only to come face to face with a nightmare.
Izuku’s body was still there.
He didn’t even look like he’d decomposed; he just… hung. The funeral had been a closed casket… Katsuki’s breath caught, the feeling of horror growing as he realized that Izuku had never been moved, never given a proper burial. No wonder he was still stuck.
”I’m still here,” whispered a familiar voice.
Katsuki was moving before he could think, righting the chair that Izuku had used to get even higher. He climbed onto it, ignoring the protests of his friends, and pulled Izuku’s body into his arms, holding it close. It wasn’t rotting, it didn’t even smell, like something here had perfectly preserved it. He pulled Izuku’s body against his chest and was suddenly overwhelmed with warmth, the sensation of an embrace surrounding him. He could feel the tears burning in his eyes, and he couldn’t even care.
He raised a hand to the rope around Izuku’s neck and let off a series of small explosions, burning through the old fibers and catching izuku easily as he fell. He was so small in Katsuki’s arms, still the child that Katsuki had abandoned.
He stepped back without looking, something guiding him safely down with the body in his arms.
“We should call sensei,” he said, his voice rough as he turned back to his friends.
Jiro nodded, stepping forward. “Who… Who is he?”
Katsuki closed his eyes. “His name is Izuku. I… He was my friend.” He could feel himself start to cry again, looking up a bit as two invisible arms settled over his shoulders.
This time, Izuku’s voice could be heard loud and clear by all of them.
“It’s okay, Kacchan,” Izuku said, slowly flickering into view. He still had bruises and cuts over his body, but he was smiling. “I forgive you,” he said, pulling himself over Katsuki so that he could look down over the top of Katsuki’s head.
Katsuki couldn’t help it. He started to sob. It was the first time he’d cried in front of the others, but he couldn’t stop, not when Izuku’s arms were warm around him and he could feel fingers in his hair, rubbing at his scalp.
Izuku just smiled.
Bonus:
“So,” Mina said, “we’re calling sensei?”
Katsuki nodded softly, still cradling Izuku’s body like a doll. “And Auntie.”
“Auntie?” Kaminari asked, leaning forward.
“Izuku’s mom.” Katsuki said.
They were all sitting in a circle in the auditorium now, with Izuku’s ghost still hanging out by Katsuki - he was floating with his arms over Katsuki’s shoulders, keeping him there. He was quiet, but he seemed happy.
“What’ll happen to his ghost, then?” Eijiro asked.
“I’m staying,” Izuku said quietly.
The attention turned to him. “What do you mean?” Jiro asked.
“I’m staying with Kacchan,” Izuku said, nuzzling against Katsuki’s hair. “I missed him, and he missed me too, so I’m not going to leave him ever again.”
Mina smiled a bit. “That’s sweet.”
Sero nodded, thinking of something. “His body hasn’t decomposed for some reason,so what if there’s a way we could bring him back? Then he could actually physically interact with those of us who aren’t Bakugou.”
For some reason, Katsuki was the only person Izuku could actually touch and who could touch him in return - when anyone else tried, they just went right through.
Izuku hummed “Maybe… I’m happy just to get to stay with him, though, so it’s okay if that’s not possible.”
“We’ll bring the possibility up to sensei, though,” Katsuki said. He wasn’t going to pass on the chance to really get Izuku back.
There was a quiet moment, where Katsuki just held onto Izuku's body, cradling him in his arms, almost cuddling with it. He was more subdued, calmer, than usual, thanks in no small part to Izuku’s presence - something about him was calming to the group, but especially Katsuki. It was an odd sight, to see the usually volatile boy sitting there so calmly, almost seeming tired. His eyes were still puffy with tears, but as the minutes ticked by that puffiness seemed to fade, and he seemed… lighter. It was like Izuku took a weight off him, and Eijiro would bet it was the grief of losing him in the first place.
The idea of a boy dying and just being left here was horrible, moreso that his family never knew, but it would be alright. This was the kind of thing they might have to deal with as heroes - things like death and suicide, rot and dead bodies. It was better that they got used to it now than being shocked on the field, he thought. It would make it easier to deal with anything they saw while on patrol, even if this wasn’t supposed to be a hero training thing.
Eijiro watched as his friend almost seemed to fawn over the body of a dead boy - it was a morbid scene, and yet somehow sweet to see how much he cared. How many people cared enough about someone to willingly handle and cuddle with their dead body?
Eijrio stood. “C’mon, let’s get back to school. We can tell sensei everything there.”
Katsuki nodded and stood as well, holding Izuku’s body in a princess carry. “Let’s go.”
As the others got to their feet, Katsuki shrugged Izuku’s backpack back onto his shoulder, a pair of red sneakers shoved inside. He made his way through the hallways to the entrance, letting the others rush to follow him without stopping to wait. When he got there, he stared out at the dimming evening light through the glass double doors, pausing a moment before he stepped out, Izuku still clinging to him.
The fresh air felt like a blessing.