Chapter Text
A spark.
A sight I have grown fond of, over my many years of watching the souls of the children.
It is so lively, so joyful, so untouched by the pains of the world they were born into, forced into it by their insensitive parents, a world so bleak creatures like me can’t help but marvel and stare when a truly happy soul, a soul with no burdens, enters the world, and often this happiness comes from a child.
So is it my fault that the imagery of a spark brings me so much joy?
They are the closest thing creatures living in the mortal plane can find to the joy of seeing a pure, untouched soul.
So filled with life, not weeping from grief, no dark shadow of guilt, no burning embers of rage. Just a spark of unadulterated joy, curiosity, and life. Unbothered with how horrible the world they are entering truly is, in an odd way, it is sheltered.
Oh what I wouldn’t give to reap one of those souls and protect it from myself, cut the soul’s ties to the living world while they are too young to grieve over it, and allow it to come to my protection, where the young souls will never know grief, never know pain, because they’ll be far too young to associate me with pain.
Yes, if you have yet to understand who I am, I am death.
Not the only one, but I am one of them.
What, did you think the grim reaper himself would have the time or power to be omnipresent enough that he's everywhere at once to guide every dead soul home without help? That kind of naive trust should only be given to the heroes the world has created, to the likes of All Might, who somehow, managed to convince everyone on this world of their safety, when even death himself is not infallible, how does one human with a power I gifted think they can carry the burden of every living thing and not be crushed?
He may think he’s helping, but due to how much false security he exudes, all it does is give the souls of this world that much farther to fall when he eventually fails to help everyone.
Because not one man, not even myself, dare say they are infallible.
There are few things worthy of that title.
Death is infallible, but not Death.
An odd paradox, but one I enjoy thinking about.
The concept of death, of mortality, it is infallible, until it isn’t, because if mortality were infallible, creatures like me who live forever would cease to exist, and dead souls would lose their guides to the afterworld, left to search the world for a way to the afterlife, and eventually, death would not happen anymore, for the man above who controls death would die himself in due time, even though the fact that he dies means with noone to control death he should not die. It is an incredibly interesting paradox to me.
When even death cannot claim to be infallible, how can one man wear such a wide grin while claiming he will be there for everyone? Does he not understand how much grief and anguish this will cause?
The more they hope, the further they will have to fall to despair.
I sigh to myself often.
When will they understand that I, Death, am not a cruel mistress who only aims to take away their happiness? When time comes for their soul to be reaped, all I do is ensure they don’t get lost and roam the painful world any longer than they have to, and I ensure the jarring transition from living in a world of constant highs and lows, happiness waiting to plunge into sadness, into living in a world where there is only peace, is a smooth transition.
I do not reap any soul who is not prepared, or who has not hit their time limit. It would be unfair.
So why then, am I standing in front of the corpse of a boy who should have had so much more time, body so cruelly discarded, a painful suicide, only 14 in age?
What went so wrong, to the point where such a young soul would commit the act of suicide? And putting that aside, he shouldn’t be dead. If someone were to commit suicide, their clocks would adjust, because their time have come, by their own volition. As morbid as it is, when the soul is so willing to die, it does make my job easier. But this one isn’t like that.
No force in this world could cause a death ahead of their clocks. Even as she watches the ghost of this dead boy staring at his own corpse, his clock still indicates he had another few decades, at least. She refuses to believe it. An out of body experience? Damage to the body so bad the soul leaves while the body lives on until someone saves it? It has happened before…
Except this one’s soul has an air of finality to it. It is dead, well and truly, despite what the clock in her hand says.
Midoriya Izuku.
Defied fate and died earlier than the clocks intended, and even as his ghost stands upon his corpse, the clock has yet to catch up with his death.
The clocks are never wrong.
This was not her area, she just so happened to be passing by another reaper’s territory, yet she can't help but comfort this one. If only because she knows that until the few decades on his clock is up, his soul can’t be reaped. He will have to traverse this world as an incorporeal ghost forced to watch from the sidelines while no psychopomp could ever help him.
A disgusting fate. One she won’t allow.
“Hello, Izuku Midoriya.”
_________________________________________
Izuku stared at his bloodied hands in fear, his eyes blurring over with tears. This was supposed to be the end, this was supposed to be his brand new start, so why is he still stuck in this place!? Just a shitty, useless deku who can’t even die right.
And if this is death, then he can feel his regret piling up one brick at a time. This can’t be it. All he wanted is a fresh new start born with a good quirk, or even a weak quirk, or just any quirk, he’s not picky, or maybe even a world with no quirks at all, he doesn’t care where he’ll end up, just not back here!
He stares at his dead lifeless body, his eyes blurring with even more tears, mixing with the blood leaking from his head, as his mangled left hand and leg somehow functions as normal, no pain anywhere.
Well, at least as a ghost, his gruesome death won’t bother him anymore. Small blessings.
“Hello, Midoriya Izuku.”
Izuku spun his whole body around so fast he could have sworn he’d give his living body second hand whiplash, and was met by an 11 foot tall lady dressed in a dark purple dress, slim yet elegant, as the dress wraps around her top like a halter top, with lace embroidery on her arms. She had a wider body shape, a very welcoming smile on her face, her waist length hair was a shiny raven color, and her eyes were gray, oddly comforting despite how they lacked life. She wore a large purple hat, her whole outfit had the occasional silver accent, such as jewelry and the accessories on her hat’s design. She would have been entirely unassuming, if it weren’t for the two pairs of obsidian wings on her back.
Yes, two pairs. One pair wrapped around her bottom half like a part of her dress, the second folded behind her, glimmering in the setting sunlight. She looked like the grim reaper turned into a doting mother.
Wait.
“Are you the grim reaper?”
He may have sounded a tad too hopeful for his death, if the way her comforting smile turned somber was anything to go by.
“I suppose that’s what I would be to you.”
The sparkle in his eyes as he realized he was really leaving this world did not go unnoticed by the kind looking giant woman, as her lifeless eyes somehow turned melancholic, as if grieving his death, even though she didn’t know him.
“I- I can leave now?”
Her face soured, although the smile never left her features. His hopeful tone faltered, was he stuck here? How long? What was his mistake to force him to stay here?
“I’m sorry, my child. I’m not sure what went wrong, but you shouldn’t be dead. No reaper, no matter how powerful, can reap a soul who has yet to be proclaimed dead by the clocks. They’re never wrong, never have been, so I’m not sure what happened.”
His gaze fell, and he just wanted to cry. Even in death, even after he’s died, he’s still useless and managed to break things, and is this his punishment for constantly ruining everything? Ruining his father’s life, his mother’s life, Kacchan’s life? Why can’t he get one thing right-
“None of that, my child.”
Large, comforting hands took his own, and the motherly smile came back full force on her face, her wings wrapping around his frail body to provide him with comfort and stability, something he needed as he felt the world itself was turning upside down.
“I’m sorry, i should have- i wouldn’t have broken-”
“Child, everything that happened here is out of your control. I have heard rumors of such an incident happening with other reapers. Although I didn't believe them, I now know they are true, and I can assure you, you are not the first.”
Her expression soured, into one he could vaguely say was anger hidden behind an aggressive smile, he would know, it’s a face he wears often.
“I don’t know what being is messing with your world and with our psychopomp abilities, but I can assure you, someone is fixing it, or if not, at least figuring out what is happening to cause such a phenomenon. All I've heard is that it’s possible the quirks we gave mortals grew so powerful they began messing with our plane of reality, or at least accidentally doing so. I can assure you, we won’t let such a grievous mistake mess with your peace for far too long. Until then, I know how lonely souls of your kind tend to be, so I will happily watch over you until I can bring you home.”
“But you shouldn’t- I’d be a waste of your time-”
“Nonsense child. Think of it like this, I can study an anomaly of the system in my free time, and by watching one of the souls fallen victim to this error, I can maybe find information which could help explain why you’re stuck here when most aren’t.”
She reached a hand up to Izuku’s forehead, connecting two fingers to his head, and then smiled softly. A wave of calm slowly seeped through Izuku’s soul, and in that short moment of contact, his soul felt like it had been flipped inside out, but it was somehow comforting.
“You wanted to be a hero, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“You can keep being a hero, and not only can you help me figure out the issue and prevent any souls from being stuck in your predicament in future situations, you could even watch over anyone you cared for in your life. Like your mother. You can go anywhere you want, and you can explore everywhere you haven't been. Consider this your time to sort out any last regrets you may have had. I know you still want to visit I-Expo at least once in your life, why not do it now? I certainly won’t stop you, and I don’t think anyone else could.”
Izuku mulled over her words, knowing it was an attempt at cheering him up, but there was truth in her words. Not that he expected a lie, but still.
“Wait, as the grim reaper, aren’t you always busy?”
The kind lady stifled a giggle at the question, and simply continued holding the boy in her wings, smiling knowingly.
“You, my child, are going to buy me a holiday I haven't had in decades. If you worry about being a burden, you won’t be, because you have given me ample reason to leave my station for however long you may exist in this plane until the issue is solved.”
Izuku thought about her words for a while, before realizing what she was saying.
“Wait, so by saying that you’re taking up the job of watching me, you get to leave your normal work?”
The lady grinned wildly, knowing in her gray eyes.
“Exactly. You are going to be effectively my adoptive son until we have it fixed, and I'm going on paid parental leave for a few years!”
She cheered happily, pumping a fist in the air, directly clashing with the regal air she had around her, and Izuku couldn't help but join in. her energy was infectious, and at least this way he’s not a burden to anyone after all!
Unbeknownst to him, the kind lady he now knows as death stares at him with ire in her eyes as he laughs, and resentment for a certain soul ; a soul who dares misuse the beauty of sparks. One way or another, she will get this poor soul’s rightful revenge for him, even if she cannot be perceived in the living world the same way she is perceived in what humans call the “ghost” world, she knows there are many ways she can warp the rules to benefit her personal quest.
Other reapers have always called her too empathetic for her job, that she should have become a dream walker or watcher instead of a soul reaper, but she can't help it. Comforting a soul about to meet eternal peace just holds a special place in her unbeating heart.
______________________________
Aizawa Shouta was having a good day. A great day even.
So why, pray tell, is a child following him around as if he can’t see him.
And to think he was hopeful that problem children would be kept to his job as a teacher. A sore mistake.
Why is one following him so blatantly on his hero patrol. A fan? He’s a twilight hero, he barely has any, and if he were fan enough to figure out his patrol route, surely he’d also know his situational awareness was not lacking. If he were an informant, he’s either such a beginner he forgets to make sure his target can’t see him, or he’s trying to catch his attention because he’s in…a hostage situation…where he needs help…but can’t say it outright…
Curse his pessimism. How did he not think of that sooner!? How dumb must he look to this child!?
“Can I help you?”
To his shock and mild amusement, the child shrieks at being noticed. So not a hostage situation? Thank his lucky stars. Less drama, the better, not just for the potential victims, but for what little sanity he had left.
“You can see me!?”
Shouta double checks to make sure he didn’t activate his quirk on accident, he didn’t, so there's no way the boy thought he is hidden by an emitter invisibility quirk. In his musings, he pretends to be a selective hearer and tunes out the boy’s ramblings, catching practically nothing of it. So a fan?
“What do you want, kid?”
“Oh, um, well- oh god I never thought I’d have to talk to someone again- wait you can see me, what did she do!?”
“Pause on that thought kid, who is she? What do you think she did?”
All that was good for was launching the boy into what sounded like half a rambling apology and half cursing out whoever “she” is. He can get behind the latter half. Whoever “she” is is directly responsible for this mess he’s in now.
He lets out a long-suffering sigh. A sound he is quickly becoming well acquainted with, being a high school teacher and all.
“So um, you won’t believe me if I tell you this- probably, I can't say I know what you will do, but, um-”
“Spit it out kid. If it’s a villain, I can help with it.”
“Oh, no no I would never call her a villain, although I guess to many other people they see her as bad, even though she kind of has no say-”
“Back up, so is she in a hostage situation?”
“Oh no, if anything I’d say she’s anything but, but um, she’s death, personified?”
That statement came out as much more a question than an answer.
“What?”
“Yeah me too, at least at the start but now she’s watching over me?”
Aizawa took a deep breath, and began praying he had a lot of coffee at home.
Death…Death.. Any villains named Death? Any villains with insta-kill quirks, any villain who could possibly make a seemingly terrified kid see them as the personification of death…
He knows way too little for this case.
“So… are you a hostage.. Or not?”
“Um… I'm not sure if I can say… oh heavens how much did she say i can say again?”
The kid groans, and Aizawa feels compelled to join him. He doesn’t. A possibly deranged kid, with a possible head wound causing some kind of hallucination-
Wait.
Curse the dark lighting of this alleyway, it took him this long to notice blood leaking from his head- if he’s experienced severe blood loss he could be hallucinating, maybe him tailing Aizawa was trying to ask for help? Unable to say anything because he’s scared he will see him as a villain?
Oh my god he needed so much coffee- he can just hear Mic chewing his ear out on civilian safety ; and for once he feels inclined to agree.
For a man who prided himself on situational awareness ; he sure was setting a bad example.
“Shit, kid, you’re injured, you might be hallucinating!”
The boy’s eyes widened in shock, as if feeling no pain. Adrenaline, possibly in a fight that sent him on such a high he can’t feel the pain of his head wound? Then there’s no way to gauge how long he’s had it ; shit!
“I’m calling an ambulance, don’t move. Whatever you’re seeing, it might not be real kid.”
“No- no no! Don’t!”
“You’re injured!”
“No, I’m not!”
Severe hallucination, probably an endorphin high… What the hell, how bad is this head wound!? And how did he not notice!? And how has the kid not passed out by now!?
“I’m already dead, I literally can’t be injured!”
“Kid, I'm sure with that kind of head wound I’d also prefer being dead, but you very much are not.”
“How do I get through to you- I’m dead! I died months ago! Death by suicide, these injuries you see are entirely a byproduct of the way i died! You don’t need to worry- please!”
Aizawa halted all his fussing at that, fingers seconds away from calling the ambulance, and he looked at the boy with a gaze that cannot be explained, no matter how much Izuku tried.
“Are you trying to convince me I'm talking to a ghost?”
“I don’t know!? No one's ever been able to see me before, I have no idea what I can or can’t say without causing Death’s job to be infinitely more annoying, although you seeing me has probably already made it harder to sort this whole issue out. A-anyway! I should just call her. You probably can’t see her anyways. She’s in an entirely different plane of existence to your one, I'm the guy stuck in between.”
That was… a lot to take in.
Was… was Aizawa dreaming?
Who is he kidding, he never sleeps long enough to fall into one.
“Kid… I’m not sure what to think here. You are a horribly injured boy, who has a high chance of currently hallucinating due to blood loss. I don't know if I should believe your rambles… which might be caused by your altered mental state from blood loss.”
Times like this Aizawa wishes he remembered that one seminar Nemuri forced him into about how to handle hallucinating victims.
“No, no! Just… take this deal. You tell absolutely no one about my existence, no ambulance, no nothing, and in return you get to dodge all the work and questioning and paperwork you are gonna get once you tell them you saw a boy officially declared dead just a week ago, and reopen my rightfully cold case only to have a month of work end in the same results as before ; with Midoriya Izuku officially dead.”
Well he’ll give the boy one thing, he knows how to swindle, and how to read people’s deepest annoyances/grievances with a situation, an empath quirk maybe?
“And how am i supposed to ignore you then when my job as a hero is literally to meddle?”
“Just- think of all the paperwork! All the social situations! All the attention you’ll be getting from the cops! It’ll be way too reminiscent of the annoying media!”
So definitely an empath quirk, because he understands him way too well.
Wait…
“You gave me your name?”
“Ah- well- just look up my name in your fancy hero files or something!”
The boy was slowly becoming more flustered. He’s not exactly sure if that’s a good thing or not with blood loss victims.
“You are remarkably lucid and aware of your surroundings for having said that whole spiel on ghosts.”
“Just look my name up!”
And so he does, grimacing at what he finds.
It's on an anti-bullying site and a quirkless support site.
"Midoriya Izuku, age 14 upon death, died in a tragic suicide. His body was found dead on arrival."
Most of the reactions are either bigoted, coming from the anti-bullying site, or mourning his loss, coming from the quirkless support site. It's tragic, to be sure.
But as he compares the picture of Midoriya next to this apparent ghost boy, either the guy has got an empath and a visual appearance copy quirk, or he's actually dead and is the ghost of Midoriya Izuku.
Aizawa Shota was having a good day, a great day even. He was so sure he'd get to sleep.
Why does he even try hoping anymore?
_____________________
Aizawa quietly parked his car by a cemetery in Musutafu, apparently where the body was cremated.
What? He's curious and his brain won't drop it until he's figured out how to rationalize a very fantastical set of events. Seeing the cremated remains would solidify that he isn't the one going insane, or that he didn't let a possibly dying, probably hallucinating from blood loss civilian to just die because he was intimidated by paperwork and just wanted to sleep that night.
If he figured out that was the case he thinks he'd beat himself up over it for a considerable while, but unluckily, luckily? The urn containing the ashes of one Midoriya Izuku stands right in front of him. Undeniable, irrefutable, proof that he actually talked to a ghost, who apparently knew death, the grim reaper, personally.
Oh my nezu why did his life just have to go and devolve into whatever this is.
There's not enough coffee in the world to push him through this.
His musings were cut short, however, as a spiky blonde haired boy walked into the cemetery, seemingly not considering his existence, ruby red eyes fixated on the urn specifically. A friend of Midoriya's?
He sits by the urn, and Shouta decides he's done enough stalking of personal moments for a week. He does not need to make this young boy uncomfortable. He is cruel to his students because the line of work they are entering is cutthroat with lives on the line. He is not heartless to everyone else. That is a common misconception.
He wonders why.
As he is leaving, he can't help but catch the beginnings of sobbing. He supposes one month is far too little time to grieve a close friend. He would know.
____________
Stupid deku. Stupid kacchan. Stupid world. Stupid teachers. Stupid classmates. Stupid principal. Stupid school. Stupid Bakugo Katsuki. Stupid everyone!
Bakugo can do nothing except for what he does best in situations like this ; aggression. And cursing out everything he can curse, glaring at everything he can see as if they'd personally wronged him, is exactly that.
He stares right ahead at the urn, paying nobody else any mind. His obsession with how he looks in the eyes of others is the whole reason this happened anyways.
If only he hadn't been so weak, hadn't been so stupid.
He can't bring himself to go any closer to the urn. He feels like having your personal tormentor invade your final resting space is unpleasant at best. He hasn't earned the right to be close to deku, and he doesn't think he ever will.
But damn it, he will continue their dreams even if it kills him.
He'll be the best hero he- that they can ever be. The fact that he hurt deku so much just means he'll have to work extra hard to cover what deku would have done if he were alive to be there at his agency with him. He'll run himself into the ground if that means he gets even the smallest chance at redemption.
He knows it won't be much.
It won't even be a drop in comparison to the lakes of pain he's caused deku.
But he's trying, and he knows now, his best won't even be enough, but that's exactly why he'll ace everything he does, just like Deku would have wanted him to do, just like Deku said they'd do. He's gonna do everything he fucking can to earn the right to even sit next to deku anymore.
Even if it fucking kills him.