Sea of Words

There is a voice in Shouta's head. It is warm, but sad. Shouta does not like it. It makes static buzz in his head, makes his body move. He tries to fight it, but the warmth and static take over, push him back.

How long has it been since the voice showed up? Pain goes through his head every time he tries to remember. He leaves it alone. Occasionally a memory stirs. Of loud voices, tall hair and strangely, explosions. It makes his heart ache. He tries not to think about it.

Open the door, the voice says and he can feel his body move, pull the door open. They step through. He closes it shut behind him and goes to wait by the stairs. He does not need the command; they have done this so many times before.

A flash of purple appears in his vision. Comes towards him with a smile. Something twists at the sight. The warmth pushes it down.

His master takes his hand. Leads him up the stairs. Suddenly, he's tired. His head drops onto his master's shoulder. He can feel his eyes slide shut.

His master laughs. A hand comes up to run through his hair. Then, he's being shifted, lowered.

The bed creaks beneath him. A stab of sharpness cuts through the warmth. He feels panic, briefly, before he sinks back under it. His master's hand slips out of his and he makes a noise.

"Be calm"

The words are said aloud this time. A rare treat. He must have been good tonight. His master steps away, locks the door, comes back.

Shouta leans against him. Sighs. His eyes close. His master's hand pets his hair.

There is a snapping sound, the feeling of cold air as his master leans away, then a clank. His master comes back and Shouta can feel the warmth of his neck. He nuzzles in.

Something dark and angry tries to bubble up. He pushes it away. He feels like that about his master sometimes, but he doesn't want to feel that way tonight. Tonight has been one of the better nights when his master and his friends had been kind. He hopes it lasts.

Sleep tugs at him again and he slumps further. His master chuckles, pushes him back so that he's lying on the bed. He hopes he doesn't have to participate much for whatever his master had planned. He had woken up once with lightning running through his veins and shuddering with each pulse of liquid that spilled out of him. That had been a good week.

The dark, angry feeling throbbed at the memory. He sighed, shifted around until his head was lying on his master's lap. His master laughed again.

Sleep, the voice said. He struggled briefly before slipping under. The warmth soaked into him, filled him until there were no more thoughts.

• Midoriya Izuku takes Bakugo Katsuki’s ‘suggestion’ because that heavy feeling in his chest never went away
• Unfortunately, he doesn’t get a quirk; he becomes a ghost instead
• There are other ghosts and monsters who like to eat ghosts
• He stays away from the latter but tries to help the former move on
• It doesn’t quite work because he’s still getting used to having ghost powers
• Bakugo seems to remain unchanged and eventually, he stops following him
• He goes to see his mom a few times, but it hurts to watch her, so he stops
• Eventually, he runs into Eraserhead who can actually see him and spends some of his free time helping ghosts
• He sticks around and helps him out by analyzing the quirks of villains he’s trying to find (The police are suspicious of the info, but whenever -they ask, Aizawa says that he got it from a ghost)
• He can also see the monsters, but his scarf doesn’t work on them
• Eventually, they get noticed by a secret government organization
• turns out said government organization takes care of the supernatural side of things
• Both of them get recruited and there goes all of Aizawa’s free time

More of the Ghost Au. In which, Tsukauchi tries to find out who is giving Aizawa information.

Aizawa sat in front of Detective Tsukauchi’s desk with his eyes closed. The room was silent except for the humming of the machinery around them. Tsukauchi’s voice could be heard from beyond the door, faint but recognizable.

“Do they think you’re working with the Precepts,” Izuku asked, quietly.

Aizawa cracked an eye open, then sat up as the door opened.

“Sorry about that Aizawa,” Tsukauchi said as he stepped behind his desk.

He sat down and leaned forward, something uneasy flickering in his eyes. Aizawa sat up, eyes glancing around the room. Izuku stood beside Tsukauchi, leaning over to see his screen.

“They’ve marked you as a person of interest,” he said, frowning.

Aizawa nodded. It wasn’t surprising. He had figured out who Trigger’s manufacturers were. Of course, the police would want to know how he got his information.

“I just have a question about the information you gave us,” Tsukauchi said.

Aizawa nodded again.

“You want to know where I got it from.”

“If you don’t mind.”

Aizawa grinned, teeth showing.

“I got it from a ghost.”

Tsukauchi frowned, looking Aizawa in the eyes. His frown deepened.

“A ghost?”

Aizawa shrugged.

“They exist. In a world full of quirks, it shouldn’t be that surprising.”

Tsukauchi’s eyebrows drew together and beside him, Izuku was laughing. Aizawa smiled, softer this time and Tsukauchi blinked.

“My….informant is in a delicate place,” Aizawa said. “You’ll understand if don’t give you his name.”

Tsukauchi nodded slowly, typing something into his computer.

“He’s putting down my name as Ghost,” Izuku said. “I have a name.”

Aizawa’s mouth twitched and he suppressed a smile. It wouldn’t do to make the detective too suspicious.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, detective?”

Tsukauchi shook his head, still frowning at his screen.

“No, that’s all.”

Aizawa stood, gesturing minutely to Izuku with his fingers. Izuku moved to stand by him as he inclined his head to Tsukauchi.

“I’ll take my leave then,” he said.

Tsukauchi looked up at that and smiled at him.

“Thank you for coming,” he said and turned back to the computer.

Aizawa walked out, Izuku muttering beside him. The sun was sinking down behind the buildings. It was almost patrol time.

Idk, what is happening here. But Aizawa somehow wound up with One for All, Izuku is dead and can possess him. Oh and All Might fought All for One and is in the hospital, again.

Electricity ran through his veins. It crackled and fizzed within him and for a moment, he hated All Might.

“I trust you Aizawa. Please pass on my power to a new symbol.”

He scrubbed at the blood on his hands. It stained him, his clothes, his scarf. He didn’t want All Might’s blood on his hands. He hadn’t wanted any of this.

A cold presence filled him. Ghost…Izuku

Sorry, Shouta, but you were going to hurt yourself, Izuku whispered.

His mental voice was always quiet, his presence like calming sunlight.

He watched as his hands turned off the tap. They were raw and cracked.

It should have been you, he thought to Izuku. You have his ideals.

Inside their currently shared mind, Izuku laughed.

I don’t think his quirk can be passed on to the dead.

“You shouldn’t be dead,” Shouta said aloud as Izuku materialized next to him.

“You should change,” Izuku said, ignoring Shouta’s comment with ease. They’d had this conversation too many times. They’d never reached an agreement or a conclusion.

Shouta nodded, unbuckling the utility belt and unzipping the jumpsuit.

“I’ll tell you how All Might’s doing,” Izuku said before he vanished.

Shouta sighed and stripped, tossing the jumpsuit in the bathtub. He’d come back for it later.

Carefully, he reached for the doorknob and twisted it. He had wanted to save All Might, had taken in his power for that reason. But he was too late and All Might was in the hospital.

His eyes ached. He closed them for a moment and thought about the choices that had brought them all here. The only thing he could do now was find a successor.

He opened the door.

Shouta woke to the buzz of the coffee maker. He reached for his eye drops, put them in and blinked. Moisture leaked out of the corners of his eyes and he sucked in a breath. The weight in his chest remained. Sharp thorns constantly stabbed at his heart. He had to get up. There were kids who still needed him.

He sat up, took another breath and slowly got out of bed. The coffee maker beeped, loud and unfamiliar. He hadn't set it up last night. How?

A flicker in the corner and the bathroom light flicked on, warm yellow spilling out into the hall. He opened his mouth, a strangled gasp came out. The bathroom light didn't flicker.

He shuffled towards it. Each step sent a jolt through him. His bones ached and there was a violent tremble in his hands as he reached for the toothbrush.

The tap turned on. He wasn't touching it. The green was back and he shut his eyes, saw the bright splash of blood behind his eyelids and spat toothpaste out.

He didn't even try to shower.

The world blurred around him. The dark clawed its way in, wrapped around and tried to drown him. A soft voice with words lost to the wind rang in his ears. It might have been his name.

"Midoriya"

His voice full of gravel, dirt and blood. Words tore at his throat. His eyes burned. Time stretched and he wanted to remain and wallow in the stabbing of his heart.

"I'm sorry"

His eyes were always too dry to cry. He tore at his skin, let blood do it for him. Static buzzed in him, took away the world and the dark until there was nothing but emptiness.

He blinked. The ache in his eyes gone. His bandaged hands were holding a cup of coffee. There was an empty plate in front of him, chopsticks resting on the side.

The weight in his lungs grew heavier.