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Repent

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“So...Who are you?”

The click of a lighter lit the balcony with the halo of an orange flame. A head of green hair, pulled back into a ponytail, came into view. A cigarette sat wedged between his teeth, the embers creating the illusion of stars in those deep green eyes.
“The name’s Midoriya Izuku, Constantine-san. Call me Izuku.”
“Japanese?” The other, taller, figure had short, dark brown, hair and dark eyes.
“Born and raised.”
“Then, what are you doing in America? You look...what? Sixteen?” Izuku sighed, letting out a stream of smoke from his nose.
“Fifteen. I came to see my dad...only to find him dead. Killed by a demon. My dad seemed to know you were the best person to find.” He dropped a picture on the banister. It was a patch of skin with a burn mark in the shape of an X with a P going through it.
“Burned that into his skin with his fire breath.”
“Fire breath?”
“His quirk. I’m sure you haven’t been in the gutters long enough to forget about quirks...and your lack of one. But, that doesn’t make you less of one hell of a demon slayer.” John scoffed and popped a piece of nicotine gum.
“And what makes you think I’ll help yo-” Without blinking, Izuku dropped a heavy sack to the ground, which made a sharp clank upon impact. The man crouched and pulled something out of it. A coin.
“Gold drachmas.”
“That there is six pounds…” Izuku took another draw.
“I’ve got ten with your name on them...if you help me.” John scoffed.
“And what is worth sixty pounds of gold, to you?” Those green eyes flicked to him.
“My father’s killer is worth so much more...plus...this may help us, should you take my offer.” He reached into his vest and pulled out something wrapped in cloth. When Constantine opened it a little, he nearly dropped it.
“How did you...I told Angelina to…”
“I have my ways.”
“Did you…” Izuku looked startled.
“No! No! I have contacts that found where she hid it. Shit...I wouldn’t kill such a kind woman...I’m not a monster…” John sighed.
“So...Where do we start? Your father’s body?”
“Incinerated. I couldn’t let people find out his secrets. I got what we needed off him. He always left me clues to figure out.” He handed the man a file.
“We should start in my home city. Mustafu.” The brunette glanced at the file.
“Does...Does your mom know you’re here?” He shook his head.
“She was killed a couple years back. Snagged the bastard and sent him back to his god.”
“Figuratively or…” Izuku cleared his throat.
“Angel...Rogue angel. I obliterated his chest cavity when I was seven.”

John looked floored.
“You killed a rogue angel at seven?”
“Yep. Had no other choice. He killed my mother and tried to slice me open with his wing. So...You in?” John sighed.
“Yeah. Fine. We taking a plane?”
“Nope. I have a contact that can get us to Japan.” Leaning back onto his feet, Izuku came to just below John’s height. He shoved his hands into his pockets and teethed at his cigarette, as he started out of the building, the taller on his heels. Once on the street, Izuku pulled John into an alley, where he knocked on the wall in a pattern. A sharp gust ripped through, before someone stood to Izuku’s right, approximately six and a half feet tall. A swirling mass of air made up his head and arms, which were behind him, and he wore a dark grey vest and pant combo.
“Ah. Is it time to return to Mustafu, Izuku?”
“It is. Kazegiri, this is John Constantine. Constantine, Kazegiri.”
“A pleasure. You ready?” He held out his hands and they took them. In an instant, things warped and changed, making John hold onto the wall as they reappeared again. Izuku handed him a bottle of water.
“Happens the first couple times. Take your time adjusting. You may want to switch to Japanese. I know you know it.”

He popped his collar and followed the younger into the street, as he fixed his gloves.
“First, I need to swing by UA. You don’t need to tag along if you don’t want to.”
“Not like I know this city like you do. Might as well follow.” Izuku shrugged and kept walking, breathing out clouds of smoke, while trying not to do so in the faces of the people he was passing. He crushed his cigarette and dropped it into an ashtray, before passing by a group of school children. As they reached the highschool, Izuku stood outside the gate.
“Why aren’t we going in? Didn’t you need to do something here?”
“Card reader on the entryway. And I don’t need to do anything here. Just pick someone up.” Then, the students came pouring out, as the bell rang. When the wave ended, Izuku pulled out his phone and dialed a number. After a moment, he hung up.
“What was that? Not gonna wait for them to pick up?”
“Don’t need to. He knows.” It was a maximum of ten minutes, before a man with black hair walked out of the school, wearing a black outfit and a white scarf around his neck. Once he looked up and saw the greenette, all tiredness seemed to drain from his face, which lit up.
“Izuku!” He dashed forward and right into him. Izuku chuckled and hugged him back, lifting him a couple inches off the ground, before noticing the scar under his eye.
“Shota...What happened?” The raven went a little sheepish.
“Villain attack about four weeks ago. Broke my arms and shattered the bottom of my orbital socket.”
“And you didn’t call me?”
“You were away...Did you see your dad?” Izuku sighed.
“He’s dead.”
“What?”
“Demon.” Shota groaned.
“They’re getting more and more ballsy…” John cleared his throat.
“Uh. Izuku.”
“Right. Right. Shota, John Constantine. American. Constantine-san, Aizawa Shota. My boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?!” Izuku put his finger to his lips.
“Due to my height, I look around twenty-five.”
“And his…”
“He knows about them...You know what? Come on.”

He lead them down the street to an apartment complex and through a first floor door. Once inside, Izuku nodded to Shota.
“You can show him. He deals with demons and angels on a daily basis.” Aizawa sighed and shook his arms out, cracking his neck. He looked up and smokey grey wings seemed to phase out of his back, stretching out to a wingspan of about twelve feet.
“You’re a peddler…”
“You could call me that...Izuku? Did you…”
“Not yet. I will, now. Constantine-san. I called you here to help, because I am something that neither angels nor demons know how to deal with. They run from the sight of me and I can never get close enough to ask about my parents’ deaths. That’s why I need your help. Humans don’t know how much we need them.”
“We? And you aren’t human? Then, what are you? Angel?”
“No...I’m both and neither.”
“What” Izuku took a deep breath and a pair of pitch black wings shot out of his back, startling the hell out of John. His clothes turned into a hooded black cloak and a broken halo of light phased partway into his head, on its end. Constantine looked dazed.
“What...are you?”
“Maybe this will jostle your memory, John.” Izuku’s back sprouted nine more pairs of wings, his eyes went white and his mouth spilled multiple, fleshy and tongue-like, tentacles. Two more sets of arms grew from under his first, an eye on all six. One held a sword and another a scythe. A lower one had a fruit, reminiscent of an apple, floating above it. Two of this free ones were up in a giving and receiving position, respectively, while the final one was set upon an open book in his lap, filled with Hebrew symbols. The demon hunter, suddenly, felt extremely heavy, as he dropped to the floor, on his ass.

 

“Azrael…”