Chapter 28: A Guide To Giving Up
Midoriya stormed into his room, throwing the door shut behind him. He flung his backpack onto the bed with such velocity it nearly skipped right off, but he paid no obvious mind. He didn't even notice Links, who had been seated at the foot of the bed, scurry off the instant he even entered the room, taking up residence underneath. The stress rolled off the teen in thick, suffocating waves that filled the air with such density it was surprising that anything living could breathe at all.
Gami floated anxiously into the room on his tail, only to be met with the sight of his successor furiously stripping off his school uniform in front of the open closet. He found himself looking away awkwardly, hesitant on speaking a word. He'd lived with Midoriya for nearly 11 years, there wasn't much he hadn't seen. Hell, he'd practically been the boy's parent. But here, he found himself speechless for a completely different reason.
The ghost turned to the door, almost wanting to leave the room in its entirety. Aizawa had walked them home, leaving with them after Nezu's impromptu meeting in Hatsume's support lab. The two hadn't said a word to each other the entire way, and while Gami could understand the hesitance on the hero's part, his patience has long run thin.
The spirit knew, more than anyone, how difficult it was to suddenly be thrusted into a parental role. He had no idea what he was doing, and every day it seemed he learned how to make a new mistake. But he was still here, despite the fact he could technically move on whenever he'd like, and he had no true plans of leaving. This was where he was needed, and so this is where he would stay.
Now, if only he could get Aizawa to understand.
His attention was hooked when a sharp clatter came from before him, and Gami turned to see a hanger on the floor, and a shakily dressed Midoriya standing over it. His sweatpants were slouched to the side, and his turtleneck lay wrinkled on his chest. His hair was that of a hurricane, tussled and tossed in every direction. The ghost moved forward slightly to try and fix it, but then he noticed a slightly different issue.
The teen's hands were shaking profusely.
In fact, now that he realized it, his whole body was trembling violently, hunching in on itself in what looked to be a botched attempt to stop.
It was a scene all too familiar, and Gami's parental instincts kicked in, not that he would ever call them that. He'd be caught dead again before those words uttered from his mouth.
He managed to catch him just before his knees gave out and he tumbled to the floor. His heart shattered at feeling the boy curl into him like a shivering kitten, his hands clutched desperately into his robe. And immediately in response, Gami ran a few of his skeletal fingers through his messy hair, knowing with utmost confidence it would begin to ground him.
He didn't say anything. He knew he shouldn't start by saying anything either. He always got more out of Midoriya when he began speaking on his own, and if the ghost tried to speak, he'd risk shutting him off for good. And so he continued to pet him in silence, listening to nothing but shaky breaths and shivers and god he hated that this was the only way.
There was a sudden loss of contact with his clothes, and the boy managed to still himself for just long enough to check his hands instinctively. Why…? It shouldn't have to be this way.
"I forgot about these…" Midoriya laughed to himself, a broken, hollow, dissociative laugh as he stared at the new gloves that adorned his hands.
He then dropped his hands limply into his lap with a thud, his shoulders heaving with every sickly chuckle that erupted from his throat.
"It's weird. My fingers are all tingly still." He curled his digits slowly, trying to feel anything but the buzzing that came from his fingertips. "It still feels like it's gonna leak through."
Gami disregarded his oblivious pattern of speech to instead grip those very same hands. Midoriya usually rambled during these episodes, and his mouth seemingly lost his filter. It was almost as if he were drunk, his words slurring together with his thoughts, pouring out like a slow jar of molasses.
"It will not," the ghost reassured, "You tried to before and it did not work."
The teen almost shrugged him off, but that would be asking too much in his current state. "I know but… what if it does?"
If Gami didn't know any better, he would have cursed him for his redundancy. But his successor hadn't lost his mind, at least not yet, and he wasn't the type to be purposely obnoxious without reason. He wasn't asking just to ask, he was asking because he needed to know. The comfort of reassurance, even probed, did wonders to the soul. What anyone wouldn't give just to be told that all would end alright, or that all would end as planned, at the very least.
"Nezu has no reason to lie, though I know trusting him is certainly a… challenge on its own."
The boy let out a loose chuckle, a little less hollow than the rest so far, and the ghost could only hope it would continue. Yes, laugh at their mutual wariness of the principal. Find humor in it, something so paranoid and yet so filled with truth. Laugh at the instability, even for just a moment. That was all that was necessary.
"Yeah," he breathed out a laugh, a sort of depressing smile gracing his lips, "I don't know about that…"
Any remark about the stunt pulled earlier in Hatsume's lab went unsaid, and for good measure. Nobody wanted to bring that up, it was taboo. Both knew that despite being immortal and everlasting, time waited for no man, child, or ghost. They'd have to talk about it eventually, the inevitable doom that was social spotlight, but for now, this was ok. They could afford to put it off right now; there were still two weeks until they had to think about it.
Still two weeks.
Why did he have the feeling that was going to become an excuse?
Gami felt Midoriya shift in his lap and he loosened his grip, thinking he wanted to stand up. And at first he would've been right, watching him sit up out of the reclined, curled position he'd squished himself into, but he stopped there. Straightened out, he stared into the void that was the spirit's hood, and he almost wanted to ask if he could see anything. Maybe, if Midoriya stared hard enough, he could see a glint of an eye, or maybe a strand of hair. Maybe he could tell him the shade of his skin, if he had any, or the color of his irises. Maybe he could tell him what he longed to see in a mirror, what he longed to see other than his raggedy clothing and dull posture.
He really wanted to ask.
He really, really wanted to ask.
"I think I want to go to Dagobah…"
But Midoriya wanted to go to Dagobah, and who was he to stop him?
"Training? Class let out barely a half hour ago?"
This time, it was the teen's turn to mess with his hood. Gami nearly jumped at the sudden contact, but despite its alien feeling, he found himself comforted at the touch. It was warm, so reassuring and safe. Was this how his successor felt when he ruffled his skeletal hands through his green locks? He hoped it was at the very least tolerable, and not annoying.
And then it was gone, too soon for him to truly enjoy it.
Please, just ruffle his hair one more time.
Did he even have hair?
"There's only two weeks before the Sports Festival is here, and that's not even enough time on its own." The silliness in his attitude subsided, replaced by a firm determination set at the starting line of a racetrack. "I can't afford to waste even a single day!"
And the sparkle returned to Midoriya's eyes, lighting them up in a green flash. That was all it took, as he excitedly jumped from the ghost's lap to his own two feet. He swirled around, much like Gami did, and reached for his discarded bag, dumping its school contents onto his bed. He bounced around like a loose ping pong ball, moving from every corner of his room, grabbing items like a frantic chef. Sunshine radiated off on him like the sweet smell that wafted from a bakery, warm and inviting.
The ghost couldn't resist a smile, how could anyone really?
"Cease for a moment, until you wish to be seen as a walking hurricane."
The boy stopped in his tracks, wondering on what grounds was his mentor's point valid. He ignored his skewed shirt, his slanted sweatpants, the wild wind that was his hair. His backpack was thrown off his shoulders, barely hanging on, and his arms lay full of items he probably wouldn't even end up using. One of his socks was even on inside out, the seam jutting out awkwardly.
He didn't see anything wrong. Though, one could say he was fairly lucky to have a Gami looking over his shoulder so constantly as his attire was quickly fixed and his belongings stuffed away.
"If only you could stay solid this consistently," he joked as his mentor tugged his turtleneck into place. "I'd never need to get dressed by myself again!"
Gami merely rolled his eyes. "I would not get used to such an occasion."
As his mentor continued to tug and pull at every square of wrinkled fabric, Midoriya found himself awkwardly looking around, trying to keep his eyes anywhere except the ghost in front of him. Though he could crack jokes about it, he really didn't remember the last time anyone had helped him dress. He couldn't really remember the last time anyone had prepared food for him, or taken him to the park, or bought him ice cream. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had invited him over to play, or brushed his hair, or tucked him into bed. He could do all that on his own now, but after so long, he couldn't be so sure if that's what he wanted anymore.
His neck ended up craning to support the direction of his eyes, and he setted on his black desk, papers and notebooks neatly stacked upon it from the day before. The slight ring that the mug of hot cocoa left was finally gone, leaving the surface pristine once more, and that familiar manila folder laid near. That magnetic manila folder. That unnaturally compelling manila folder. That impossible to escape from manila folder. He'd been staring at it so long, he didn't even notice the lack of touch to his clothes anymore, his attention stolen by a thief of beige.
He could read it again. He could. He was planning on going to Dagobah, dressed and packed for it and everything. But he could stay, sit down with the folder instead. It wouldn't be too big of a deal; his plans weren't set in stone. But, despite acknowledging the unholy way that folder drew him in, he could also acknowledge the strong determination to simply leave it be. He had already prepared for an outing, he didn't want to sit down again and fester in his own thoughts. He wanted to leave, and yet it called for him to stay. He wanted to let go, and yet it called for him to continue. He was stuck, stuck in this hellish purgatory of desires that pulled at him like two ends of a rope, slowly but surely ripping him in opposite directions and if he didn't pick one already he'd surely be torn apart!
"Izu, I understand your adherence to speaking of the topic, but it would be best to address the… elephant in the room sooner rather that lat-"
It was funny. Midoriya didn't catch any of that and still managed to interrupt with a frustrated screech as he swiped at the desk.
Fine! He'd just read the stupid thing, if that was what it took to satiate his conscience.
He scooped up one thing in his hostile actions, and managed to knock a whole bunch of other things to the ground in the process. Great! Now he'd have to pick up a whole new mess he created, and he hadn't even finished collecting the one from before, to which wouldn't even be resolved because that's what he was going to Dagobah for and he wasn't going anymore. Wonderful. He just wanted to scream at the top of his lungs and just let it all out and would anyone blame him? He had so much pent up emotion and so many pent up thoughts and they all seemed to boil over the last few days only to bubble up now. He felt like a pot over the stove, a nice, heavy lid across the top preventing him from releasing the pressure that was slowly eating away at him and if something wasn't done sooner or later he was going to burst!
The teen gripped the folder in his hand with such aggression that if it weren't as sturdy and thick as it was, he would have surely bent it in two.
Wait… he was squeezing something sturdy? Thick? He didn't recall the skinny, little manila folder feeling this way in his hands, to which he would most certainly know amongst his many visits.
He drew his focus from the mess that currently was the depths of his mind, only to find a familiar, handheld guide he remembered placing upon the desk only yesterday, its hard cover holding firmly against his grip. He must have missed then? How did he manage that, standing only a step away from the desk?
Turning his attention just slightly away, he noticed the papers that he had inadvertently flung to the floor. And now that he had settled on them, he observed with wide eyes one familiar manila cover facing upside down against the floor, its contents scattered about.
If this wasn't a slap in the face from the universe, then he truly didn't know that was.
He looked back up from the floor, from the book in his hands, to meet eyes with Gami, who certainly had no idea what just happened. But clearly, if the silence said anything, the moment was over and done with. His mind was made up. He was going to Dagobah to train. The folder and its contents could wait, even picking them up off the floor could wait. There was training to do, and no time to be wasted, not to pause, not to rest, and certainly not to rebuild.
Besides, he was already built perfectly fine as it was.
Gami shuffled nervously in front of him, and Midoriya couldn't help but feel bad for his… extravagant display and do the same.
"Are you still interested in leaving for Dagobah?"
He wanted to apologize, for what he wasn't sure, but the moment didn't feel like it called for that.
"Yeah, we can g-"
There was a knock on the closed door.
Both heads swiftly turned to the sound, words dying upon the tips of their tongue. Like startled animals, the two waited in tense silence for something to be said, or something to follow. The seconds ticked by painfully, with the stillness leaking from the air. Of course Gami wouldn't say anything; it's not like the person beyond the door would hear him anyway. But why would Midoriya call out? It's not like he knocked in the first place. It's not like he needed anything.
"Problem Child… I heard a noise." The sound of his homeroom teacher's voice echoed from just beyond the hardwood, mixed with something he'd never heard before. "Are… are you alright?"
The boy opened his mouth to respond, but he knew nothing was coming out of his dry throat, maybe a shaky breath if he was lucky. His hands clenched together just a little bit tighter, and that's when he remembered he was holding something in one of them. His attention was pulled to the small hardcover book his fingers were digging into, and he inadvertently took the time to reread the cover again. He wasn't sure how long it took him, but with every passing second he grew just a little bit more thankful for the new gloves preventing him from turning it to ash.
His mind was made up.
"I'm fine, Aizawa-sensei."
He quickly stuffed the staff fighting book into his bag, messily throwing it over his head and hoping it wasn't sticking out in any way.
"Can… can I go to Dagobah Beach to practice for the festival?"
He didn't want to sneak out, god forbid the punishment he would receive when he was discovered missing, but the option wasn't off the table just yet.
There wasn't an immediate response, and that got Midoriya worried. Hesitance was never a comforting sign, and it allowed for too much extra time in his head. He gripped his backpack straps like a lifeline, for once not having to worry about decaying through. It was a comfort he couldn't remember having, but could get used to, maybe the only one he'd be lucky enough to have across the course of these two weeks.
Though, the wait wasn't long enough for him to get too deep in his own thoughts, and he was forcefully expelled right back into reality.
"Sure. I can trust you to be back before dinner though, right?"
The teen looked towards his mentor in excitement, like he'd just been given permission to shop in a candy store. The grin on his face was so bright, it would've been hard to believe he was just shaking on the floor earlier.
Gami really needed to sit down and talk with his successor over all the events that continued to pile up, because he was seriously getting worried with how quickly he was flipping through emotions.
"Yeah, t-that's fine," he answered, the smile on his face audible along with the instability in his tone.
There wasn't anything that came right afterwards, giving off an impression of finale, and yet, Midoriya made no move for the door. When Gami didn't shoot him a confused look, he knew for a fact the ghost understood exactly where he was coming from. Despite the silence, despite the air of finish, they both could still feel Aizawa just beyond the door, his presence leaking through the gaps in the wood. And it was that instinctual sensation that left them halted in their tracks, knowing simply by the nagging feeling in the back of their minds.
Well, it could have also been the fact that there were no footsteps walking away, but that just didn't seem as cool.
"Would you be interested in katsudon for dinner tonight?" He finally called out, maybe upon realizing that they both knew he was still there. "There's a pretty good takeout place nearby that Zashi and I know."
And then, that's when the bright smile on Midoriya's face shifted to a softer one. It didn't fade, or downgrade of any sort, just shifted, like the warmth brewing in his heart leaked onto his lips. For anyone with the pleasure of looking in from the outside, which was really only Gami at the moment, it was the first time that the brightness of his smile reached his eyes. His successor was considerably calmer than just before, when he received permission to go down to the beach, and yet Gami preferred this look much better.
Looking back on the day now, he really seemed genuinely happy compared to the smiles before.
"Yeah I- that would be nice."
The ghost felt his own soul warm up just a little bit more, yanking him out of the chill of the afterlife for just a moment. He could never get enough of the pure sunshine that radiated off of Midoriya on the rare occasions, and he could never do enough to warrant it. But… since the boy had started living here, he'd been seeing the moments more and more often.
Gami turned back towards the shut door, and imagined how the hero just beyond it was standing. It was one of the many times he wished he could be seen by more than just his successor, and one of the few times he didn't wish for exactly that just to intimidate.
Even with the supposed wisdom that might come from 500 years of existence, Gami found himself wrong more times than anyone might expect. In fact, he personally thought he didn't know all too much about anything to begin with. It was beliefs like that which made him question whether he should be judging the efforts of others as harshly as he was. Because how could he sit idly and scold someone else for their lack of knowledgeability when he wasn't much better himself? Of course, there were definitely some things he could say with utmost certainty, regardless of his years of age.
The fact that there wasn't a katsudon place anywhere within a good few miles of here was one.
A heavy gasp erupted from the pitch black guest room, one just quiet enough not to stir the midnight stars from their slumber, but just loud enough to startle Midoriya from his own. He lurched out of bed, the blanket once draped over him flying off in a violent panic. It pooled onto the floor with a silent thud and no hope of recovery, not that it was a priority anyway.
A hand reached out snappily to clutch at his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt desperately as he tried and failed to wrangle his heart rate into submission. It was beating so loudly he was afraid even the moon that shone through his window could hear it, even from the hundreds of thousands of miles away that it was. His breaths came out short and ragged, trying to match the pulse of his heart in hopes that would return him to normal. He was only making it worse and he knew, but that wasn't enough to stop the adrenaline fueling his blood.
His other hand flew to his mouth, intending to stop the rising bile that burned up his throat. Only when the slightly rough fabric met his parted lips did he remember that he'd gone to bed with his new gloves on, as well as all the nights before, for this exact scenario. Both his hands trembled violently despite being preoccupied, and the painful buzzing in his fingertips overwhelmed his senses, numbing his nerve endings all the way to his core.
Sweat caked every inch of his skin, regardless of whether it was exposed, and ran disgustingly down his body like he was standing out in the sun. But the sun and the glory of its light was nowhere to be found, and the luminescence of the night sky could only do so much through a window. Everything was dark, pitch black, and despite the beam of moonlight that did grace his room, it did nothing to alleviate the overwhelming darkness around him. He was choking on it, struggling to breathe as it wormed its way down his throat. The air escaped him in raspy wisps and he couldn't hold any of it in long enough to really feel it. His lungs were empty and yet filled with liquid and he was choking and god he couldn't breathe.
He hunched in on himself because he didn't have a third hand to grasp at his throat and he didn't want to move the others from their spots in fear he'd either throw up or lose his heart beat.
He couldn't breathe.
He couldn't breathe.
He couldn't breathe.
The tears came out naturally after that, and he really didn't do anything to stop them in full honesty. The droplets crashed onto the mattress without rhythm, heavy and lacking direction as they streamed down the parts of his arms that they landed on, drenching him in a new layer of disgust. His chest heaved desperately, but his sobs were silent, lacking the air to fuel their volume. No one could hear his cries, not even him, the darkness flooding his ears and muffling the world around him.
Not again.
Please, not again.
"Dammit again?! Izuku, I'm here! I'm right here…!"
Normally, he'd be surprised at Gami showing such livid emotion. He knew the ghost could, but compared to his usually nonchalant attitude, moments of sudden vividness always felt in the small minority no matter how frequently they did occur. So typically, anytime he grew overly emotional it felt slightly out of place, enough to make the teen reassess the situation just to properly account for a strong enough motive.
But when his mentor practically threw himself at him in a botched body slam, the boy found himself more indifferent than anything else.
Ghostly arms swept around him in an embrace he was all too familiar with, just as a hand arrived to thread his hair as he expected. The contact, however, just caused him to bawl harder as his gloved hands finally fled from his body and latched onto the stable robe before him. He buried his head further into Gami's chest as he was swaddled protectively. But alas, nothing seemed to cease the steady stream of tears pouring from his face.
"I am sorry," Gami cursed at himself while mumbling sweet sympathies to the child before him. Because dammit. Dammit he should've known better than to leave even for a moment after all that had happened these past couple days. "Another one?"
He already knew the answer to that, but the question was more in hopes of getting Midoriya to stop crying in favor of talking over anything else.
Besides, once he felt the teen nod into his chest, it was all the bitter confirmation that was necessary.
"I-I'm not gonna be able to stop him…" Midoriya cried desperately, clutching himself harder into the fabric, "I can't! I can't…"
The spirit could only hold him tighter as the choked breaths grew more violent, to the point where his hacking might start to become audible to the rest of the house. He patted gently on his back, hoping to help him ride out this intense wave of grief. This episode was surely the worst of the 7 so far, and Gami only knew it was going to get even worse from here on out.
Though, for one of these premonitions to disturb him while he was attempting to get some of the only sleep possible since coming back from the USJ incident was truly evil.
"It's like… he k-knows I'm watching," his voice cracked from the sheer lack of hydration, "He always kills them so aw-awfully. It's not fair…!"
Of course, they both knew that wasn't the case. Premonitions were always visions of the future, not the past, so individuals in them would have no idea they were being observed; the event simply hadn't occurred yet. Though, with the killer they were dealing with, Gami wouldn't have been surprised if he made sure to end his victims as sadistically as possible simply for the fun of it.
He almost didn't want to ask about the contents of this vision, seeing as he nearly threw up his nonexistent guts at the last.
That of course pained him even more, to think that Midoriya was viewing all of which he described with his own very eyes.
"I- they have to save this hero this time. I c-can't watch the Hero Killer do this again…!"
Gami wished this had ended swiftly with the first premonition, but here they were, 7 visions and 6 dead heroes in. And as much as it pained him to admit, even silently, he really didn't have all too much hope for this 7th one.
Of course, they'd partnered with Aizawa immediately after the first Hero Killer premonition Midoriya had received, and the underground hero had been working closely with Tsukauchi as a mediator to keep the rest of the police force and the heroes involved as in the dark on the boy's secret as possible. Though, even with the advanced warning and all the extra eyes, somehow they could never stop the deaths in time. Most so far were due to the very reason the heroes had been selected by the Hero Killer to die in the first place: their hunger for fame and attention led them to disregard the numerous warnings and orders of law enforcement, and ultimately to their undoing. The 6 heroes dead were all of the lower ranks, around 1500+, most of which Midoriya hadn't even heard of, but all of that failed to make their deaths any easier to cope with. After all, the teen technically experienced them twice, once in advance and once more when he was informed of their demise. And that certainly didn't make the guilt any easier to handle as it rushed back at him two-fold.
It was hard to watch: his successor sobbing into his chest so desperately, clinging onto him like a lifeline. And it was even more difficult to sit there and witness it all without even an inkling of what more to do. He was the only one who would really know what viewing premonitions did to the human soul, and even then, he couldn't remember it for the life of him, only the suffocating feelings of anguish and desperation. It was especially frustrating: to only remember how events made him feel, and not the events themselves. Because god, he already knew that watching people die before your eyes, even if it hadn't truly happened yet, was traumatizing and awful, that was obvious enough; he didn't need phantom emotions in his gut to tell him that. But to understand that the edges of his memories, those of which would help him now in hindsight, rested just beyond reach was agonizing.
Useless, useless, useless.
But Gami was startled out of his self deprecation upon losing the sensation of warmth in his hands. He looked up, only to find Midoriya out of bed completely now and pacing back and forth in front of his closet. He did nothing to hide his tear stained face, hands instead nested in his bed hair, clutching the roots tight. Straining his hearing just enough, he could make out slight mumblings under his breath, coming out in short bursts like he had no true control over his mouth.
"I can't-"
He drew a hitched breath.
"Need to get out-"
Another gasp.
"Useless-"
He stopped moving, stopped muttering, and squatted down onto the balls of his feet with his body hunched over, trying to center himself before he toppled over. His skin felt disgusting, coated with a layer of sweat that he just couldn't seem to shake. His pajamas clung to him just as his thoughts did, sticking to him with such a revolting guise of adhesive that he had no hopes of ever being free of them. He felt sick and trapped and hopeless and the sweat on his skin was not helping. He needed to get out of these clothes. He needed to get out of this room.
He didn't hear the closet door open, or his mentor's confused call from behind him. He thankfully didn't hear the nauseating sound of his pajamas being peeled off of him, or the sound of them dropping to the floor in a heap. He didn't hear the slight rattle of clothing hangers, but that just might have been because they didn't make all too much noise to begin with.
He didn't hear himself get dressed, but that just might have been because he was so used to being as silent as possible, especially at night.
He didn't hear his bedroom door creak open, but that just might have been because midnight trips to the living room were more often than he liked to admit.
He didn't hear the floorboard beneath him groan with his weight, but that just might have been because he understood the implications of waking up the house, and he wouldn't let that happen in a million years.
Gami debated intervening in the situation before him, but the options weighed long and hard in his head, growing more complicated with each step the boy took. Because who was he to object to Midoriya leaving the stuffy room, even for just a moment? Even as the cracked window allowed for a brisk, midnight breeze to enter? Besides, he was always pushing for him to leave for even the most frivolous of means. Staying locked up in that room all day obviously wasn't healthy, even if it felt so.
But clearly, even the slight change of scenery wasn't enough, as Midoriya paced nervously around the kitchen island. He kept stopping right in front of the hanging cabinet containing the glass drinking cups, but every time he reached for the handle something seemed to get in the way. Even from a distance, Gami could easily see his fingers trembling profusely, like a nervous current running through his veins. Was he worried about decaying the handle? Did he not realize he still had his new gloves on?
Midoriya was thirsty, so very thirsty. His throat was parched from the little sleep he did get, not to mention the excessive amount of crying that occurred just earlier. All he really needed was one tall glass of water to quench his thirst and he could head right back off to bed.
He reached again for the cabinet handle.
But… he really didn't want to go back to bed.
In fact, he'd rather be anywhere else.
His gaze moved towards the front door.
He needed to be anywhere else.
That's how he ended up at the front door, tying together the shoelaces of his signature red sneakers using only the light shining from the window. He didn't care if Gami thought it was a bad idea, but surprisingly, the ghost voiced no opinion against his spontaneous decision. So of course he took that as a sign of approval and readied himself further.
Where would he go? He wasn't too sure about that part yet, but he'd cross that bridge when he got there.
As for Aizawa and Yamada, well, they only crossed his mind once, and when they did he pushed those thoughts so deep they might as well have burned up in his stomach acid.
Just as he turned the doorknob, he managed to pick up a soft cry coming from the ajar door of his bedroom. He knew what would meet his stare if he turned around, and quite honestly he wasn't sure he wanted to see that. And no amount of guilt could change his mind, no matter how uncomfortably it bubbled in his gut.
So he left, with his house key tumbling around in his pocket. He shut the door without mercy, but with just enough softness that it dared not to utter a sound.
Gami debated intervening in the situation before him but… who was he to object to Midoriya leaving the vicinity of what plagued him?
Even for just a moment?
Even as the plague followed him through every movement in every shadow he crossed?
It wasn't the first time he'd made this trek, perhaps however the first time he'd done it since staying with Aizawa and Yamada. There was no real reason to think, he simply allowed instinct to take the foreground of his mind. It was nice: giving in to the monotony of things. He wasn't sure anyone would get it if he tried to explain, but there was something almost relieving, almost freeing, about turning off your brain. The lack of obligation towards any thought in particular, the separation from emotion. Sometimes, it felt serene to feel nothing at all.
Maybe Gami would get it, but he never bothered to explain it to the ghost. Besides, if his mentor had put up with this kind of shit from him without complaint, he was fairly confident that he had some idea of understanding. That, or he was simply too accommodating, of which either could truly be a possibility.
But he was at Dagobah already, so no more thinking.
The two, well… it was really only Midoriya who hiked his way through the sand. Gami had the lucky ordeal of getting to float over it until they reached their favorite spot. Well… it was more of Midoriya's favorite spot, the trash piles still more than high enough to block him from the view of anyone passing by. Gami very much preferred a seemingly random section of the beach near the gazebo that rested at the end of the pier. In fact, the ghost had made it so apparent that he loved that spot with all his undead heart that it was the first area he decided to clean up when he was training for the entrance exam.
He'd tried cleaning up this area as well, but the current tended to dump way too much garbage for him to possibly keep up with.
Oh well, the training spot was more than convenient anyway.
"I am guessing by the spot you wish to train?"
Midoriya nodded. He didn't exactly want to sit and relax surrounded by trash.
The boy bent his knees, getting into a squatted, defensive stance with his hands raised in front of him. Gami groaned and dropped his shoulders, though neither act had any hint of malice.
"Hand to hand combat again?" Though he held no bitterness, there was audible exasperation in his tone.
Midoriya nodded again, lowering himself a little more.
The ghost clearly wasn't looking forward to this, but he did his best anyway, shifting into a poor formation himself. He knew he wasn't really a viable training partner, considering his knowledge was only from the skimmed beginnings of that staff fighting book Aizawa had given to his successor, but Midoriya refused to ask anyone else for help. So here they were, facing off like a tense Mexican standoff, waiting to see who would draw their gun first. All they needed was a tumbleweed to blow by and the scene would have been perfect.
"Alright, I am ready…" Maybe his successor didn't realize he was good to go?
Just as the words left his lips, suddenly there was a tuff of green hair right in his face, with an elbow headed straight for his throat. Startled, he staggered back just in time to avoid the blow, catching a glimpse of the burning fire in his irises, and yet the empty stare in his eyes. The ghost stumbled to the side to try and catch his nonexistent breath, but was unable to as another jab barreled towards him. He floated out of the way, his spiritual form giving him far more advantage than he should have for his lackluster skills, further reason why Midoriya should've found someone else to train with.
It finally clicked that he should probably retaliate, so he made a grab at the boy's arm, yanking him forward and off balance. The sand worked more in his favor as the ground lacked solidity for stability, making his front foot slip forward with the motion. Gami took the opportunity to make a sharp thrust at the top of his now vulnerable head. It was a more aggressive play than he realized at the moment, survival instincts resurfacing, of whose origins he had no idea. He regretted it the minute he began the action, but the momentum was too great for him to stop.
Thankfully, Midoriya was much more instinctual than the spirit had given him credit for, using the momentum from the tug to fully dive underneath the ghost and into the sand. He managed to both dislodge his arm and avoid the jab at his head in one swift motion, and after a second of eating sand, he quickly spun back around while on all fours. He took one of his legs with him in the movement, and plowed his heel right into his mentor's side with devastating force.
The blow sent Gami tumbling back, reeling in agony as he remembered the uncomfortable feeling of pain once more. After all, it had certainly been a while since he'd come into contact with a strong force like that. The last time he really remembered feeling such agonizing pain was at the USJ, when he ripped his somehow solid hands from the wall. Though, that really wasn't all too far back now that he thought about it.
There were certainly a couple benefits from being a ghost; transparency was really useful in a combat and rescue scenario. But right now, was definitely one of the times he wished he was solid with everything he came into contact with. Because a normal person could crash into the sand after that kind of blow, and with a decent buffer coming from the grains, get back up and continue fighting. But he was no normal person, of which was more than obvious.
So it sucked more than usual when he passed right through the sandy earth beneath him and into complete darkness.
He never had a reason to attempt passing through the solid ground before. After all, being able to float through walls and being invisible to the general public practically eliminates the need to worry about hiding from sight or traveling underground, so he had only speculated in the past. It made sense for him to be able to disappear into the sand beneath him, but there was never any real reason to confirm it.
Of course, the duo figured out the answer to that question pretty quick at the beginning of the week when they first started training.
It was certainly terrifying the first time. Gami had practically been body slammed into the sand by Midoriya, and before either of them could realize it, the ghost had gone straight through and the boy plummeted face first into the sand himself. The two began their own individual freak-outs, with Midoriya panicking without the usual company of his mentor, and Gami desperately trying to figure out what the hell just happened. The sensory deprivation caught him extremely off guard: his whole world was pitch black, the silence ran deafening in his ears, it was like he was floating in limbo. It only took about half a minute for him to float back up the way he came before he could disorient himself further, but to both, it felt like an eternity.
They still continued to practice after that, and in the days after as well, with both parties making careful effort to avoid that scenario in the process. Of course it still happened, what else was expected when going over wrestling basics? But thankfully it was never as bad as that very first time. Shock does that to people, even ghosts apparently.
Still, that didn't mean Gami enjoyed each subsequent incident since.
So this time, after passing through the beachy earth, the spirit practically clawed his way back to the surface. He hated the sudden lack of… well… everything, and it kicked in his fight or flight response. He could've just floated out as he typically did with any other medium he passed through, but there was something about total emptiness that set off his survival instincts.
He broke the earth with a dramatic gasp, like he had just emerged from under the sea after holding his breath. Except he wasn't drowning, nor needed to breathe. Though, it certainly felt as if.
He clutched his chest, trying to calm his nonexistent heart beat. Taking deep breaths to try and starve off any incoming panic, he turned to his successor, who was now standing and brushing the sand off of him. Noticing his mentor had returned from the depths, he gave a slight, silent nod of confirmation and placed himself back into a defensive stance.
Now that he thought about it, the teen really hadn't said anything since they arrived.
Still, Gami really wasn't in the mood to be sent through the beach again. "Again? Do you not wish to practice other skills while you are here?"
Midoriya shook his head, raising his hands to his chest.
"What about your scythe?" He tried to argue. "We can go over some stances from yesterday."
Again, his suggestion was shot down without a sound. Despite the punctuality however, nothing about Midoriya's body language conveyed that he was bothered or growing irritated. In fact, he appeared more empty than anything else, void of the color that usually painted his eyes. It certainly freaked the spector out, unnerving him more than anything, which only gave him more reason to push further.
"Why not experiment with blasts from your hands? You have not even attempted that again since what happened at USJ."
This time, he could see the teen's shoulders slump ever so slightly, the action not unlike a disappointed child. The second it happened, Gami instantly regretted his insistence. And though it had originated from a place of good intentions, maybe it had been too much. Maybe it had been too soon.
Though, maybe he also preferred not to be body slammed through the sand again.
His successor returned to a more relaxed stance, shifting out of the tense squat he was in before. He picked his head up, large doe eyes illuminated by the shining of the dawning sky. Something else shone within them, something that wasn't a reflection of the disappearing stars or the lone streetlamp a sidewalk away. Something that gave off the impression that there was suddenly a little less empty, and a little more… something.
"Please…?"
It was soft and meek, with such heistance that it rang out for a few seconds among the silence, and yet such force that it rattled every bone in the old ghost's body, albeit of which weren't many. His gut twisted with a sensation of sourness.
Who was he to deny such a simple request? A simple request of release from the plague that had clearly followed him from the peace of his room to the comforts of the sand?
"Just… no more body slamming if you do not have to."
There was a slight uplift to his words, just enough of a joking tone that made Midoriya crack a smile. It wasn't too elating, just a small, soft smile that nearly lit up the early hour sky.
But that was just enough, more than enough, for Gami's old soul.
It was a while longer before the two finally ran out of steam. The sun managed to catch the end of their sparring, but it wasn't long after that they both collapsed into the sand. Combined with the sweat in his skin, the sensation was more than disgusting. But he didn't exactly want to stand anymore, he couldn't really stand anymore to be honest.
Midoriya panted like a dog out in the sun, despite the coolness coming from the ocean and the still dim sky. Grains of sand stuck to bits of his exposed skin, with the rest of his body glued to his clothes with sweat. His hair was damp and sandy with exhaustion. And yet, his face smiled with each breath, nothing like the sweaty, exhausted mess he was when he woke up.
Gami laid beside him, though it wasn't really laying. The ghost kind of floated just above the sand, just leaving enough space to prevent him from falling right through once again. It was a bit of an awkward sight for anyone watching, but thankfully, no one was. No one could, except for his successor, who was way too passed out to care.
"T-thanks…"
Confused, the man turned his head to the side.
"Oh?"
Midoriya was still staring directly up, the dawning sun reflecting just slightly in his eyes. His chest heaved up and down as his lungs gasped for air. His face adorned that small smile from earlier, though now that he looked closer at it, it seemed to be laced with some kind of bittersweet sadness. He smiled, but even the shining in his eyes wasn't enough to convince him.
Then, the teen turned his head too, and now with a clear view, Gami could see the somberness in his glance.
"I know you weren't all that enthusiastic about training with me tonight." There was an audible wetness in his voice, the only damp part of himself that wasn't caused by sweat. "I shouldn't have dragged you into participating."
Gami couldn't deny, there was a small part of him that felt guilted by the boy's actions. But, the rest of him just couldn't bear to be angry at him. He'd known Midoriya for such a long time; he practically watched him grow up. He'd grown too, to care about every little quirky bit of him. Every smile, every laugh, every mumble, every pencil scribble.
Everything.
"It truly was not a hassle." He wished he could see his reflection in the moment, because the warmth within him resembled a smile so closely. "Besides, I think you needed it."
This time, it was Midoriya's time to feel confused. "Oh?"
Gami sat up, curling his body so he was lounging in midair. "The past week or so has been fairly hectic, to put it lightly."
The teen looked away, that sad smile returning to his face. "Yeah…"
"Despite how often we talk, I know there is much you keep from me."
And that immediately brought him attention back to his mentor, head snapping so hard it stirred up the sand around him. Was he trying to say he'd been lying? That he was secretive? Was Gami trying to reprimand him for being unsure when it was him he talked to the most? Him that knew of his darkest secrets, his worst fears, his ghastliest nightmares?
"I only wish for your happiness." The smile in his voice was so audible, it was as if the sun itself could hear it. "And for you to feel safe to come to me if necessary."
His shiny, green eyes widened, catching the morning glint in his irises.
He couldn't stop the beam from blossoming onto his cheeks like fresh dew.
Nor could he stop his head from crashing back onto the sand, looking back up at the fading stars.
"Gami?"
Said ghost hummed.
"For… the Sports Festival… my speech I mean… what should I say?"
The spirit felt his head cock unconsciously, though not out of confusion, but more out of surprise. He raised a skeletal hand to his chin, or at least to where his chin would be, curling the finger as the bones clacked.
"Well…" he murmured after some time, "what do you wish someone had told you just before the entrance exam?"
The entrance exam? That felt so long ago, he'd nearly forgotten. He had felt so dwarfed by the massive building upon laying eyes on it for the first time. He had felt so out of place among the rest of the examinees. He had felt so inferior in his abilities, and his confidence had laid broken at his feet. And while he had passed in both areas, written and combat, it didn't reflect in his stature even after he had been notified. He never really felt like he'd done it, or deserved it.
Just before the exam, with all of his doubts in the forefront of his head, what would've been nice to hear?
"I… I wished someone had reminded me that I was there for a reason. No one forced me to apply to U.A. I was there because I was fighting for my dream, just like everyone else."
The sand suddenly felt really uncomfortable to lay upon, so Midoriya sat up abruptly, brushing the grains off his arms. He tapped his foot nervously, feeling second hand anxiety from recounting his own memories.
Gami shifted just a bit closer, if only to offer silent support. The air around them got just a bit colder, but that could have also been the chilly dawn or the ocean breeze.
"I felt so… underwhelming compared to everyone else. There were so many kids with powers much more suited towards heroism compared to mine." The boy hugged himself close, trying to send that hug back in time to when he needed it. "But I was there because I wanted to be a hero, and I knew that U.A. was my best shot. In my self doubt, I forgot that everyone else was there for that same reason too, or at least something similar."
The old ghost couldn't stop the smile that bloomed in his heart, turning towards his successor, who continued to stare out into the sea. Sure, on the surface he seemed like the same timid, insecure kid, but he'd really come around in the past year. From taking on the entrance exam, to getting into his dream school, to all the hecticness that came with U.A., he'd been through his fair share of chaos and uncertainty, of ups and downs. So hearing him reflect, not only on the good, but the bad that came with it, was really mature. Gami was feeling the pride just from listening, like a pleased parent.
"I guess I would've liked to have been told that I wasn't so different from everyone else." Midoriya didn't look over to his mentor, but somehow caught the elatedness he was feeling, beaming softly. "On some level, we were all just kids fighting for a dream that day."
There was a brief moment of silence, where not even the seagulls squawked to ruin the mood. The quietly crashing waves resembled polite applause at the end of a speech. In a way, it was a speech. Maybe not the speech he'd use, it was a bit too personal for him to comfortably share, but a declaration nonetheless.
"Thanks Gami, I think I've got a better idea of what I want to say."
If the specter could smile any more, his cheekbones would be sore.
"I am glad I could help."
The moment was serene, straight out of a fantasy novel. There was a certain sunshine to the air, despite the star barely peeking over the horizon. The ocean glittered with life and pride, and it reflected back into the teen's eyes. It was uplifting, like riding the high of success. Like getting a pat on the back from Lady Luck, or a thumbs up from the fickle hand of fate. Like the feeling of wanting to smile, not for any reason in particular, just because it's possible.
But of course, time waits for no man, no matter how wondrous the second may be.
Midoriya stood up from the sand, stretched out his back, and let out a long groan. "Well, we should probably head back before it gets too early. Especially since we kinda snuck out…"
"Is that so, Problem Child?"
The duo spun around towards the concrete stairs off to the side, only to see a familiar ragged man that they expected to pair with that voice.
"Well technically, it was only you who snuck out," Gami muttered quickly.
It was a rare time where the quip traveled too fast up his throat and overpowered the fear of forbearing retaliation. "It's not like you stopped me. You're just as guilty."
As soon as it emerged, he realized that it easily sounded like it was directed towards Aizawa, and not to the sassy ghost next to him as intended. His face shifted to a pale white, nearly as pale as his mentor's bony hands, as his throat ran drier than his damp skin.
"I-I didn't- I mean-" He stuttered, "I-I was talking to Gami!"
But Aizawa didn't look all that bothered. "I figured, Problem Child. And he's not off the hook either. I thought he was supposed to be the mature one."
Midoriya turned to his companion, who now was shifted to the side. His arms crossed over his chest, and he was curled in on himself, pouting and grumbling like a child with his hand caught in the candy jar.
He swallowed the urge to laugh at Gami's disposition.
The teacher just shook his head, stuffing his hands into his pockets with a slouch. "Links wouldn't stop scratching at our door, so it woke me up eventually. Imagine my surprise when I didn't find you on the windowsill or the front stoop like usual."
He shrank away with guilt, bringing his hands protectively to his chest. He didn't really think about it in the moment, he chose not to think about it, an active decision he'd come to regret. But when the air felt so suffocating, there was only so much he could take before the desire to escape became just as suffocating. Not that it was an excuse, just an explanation.
Still, he looked down at his feet in shame, because now it was his turn to be caught with his hand in the candy jar.
"I-I'm sorry... "
He wasn't really sure what else to say. He didn't want to apologize for leaving, because quite frankly, he needed to leave. He needed to get out of his room, out of the house, out of that trapped, anguished environment. There was nothing wrong with that, right?
And yet, he couldn't help but feel guilty, because he shouldn't have left, especially in the middle of the night. He was in the wrong. He had made a mistake. He shouldn't have left. And yet, he had to leave. He had been caught between order and instinct. Caught between compliance and necessity. He had to make a tough decision, and someone was going to walk away unhappy. He just… didn't want it to be him for a change.
"I know these past few days have been particularly rough on you," Aizawa sighed, "Just leave a note next time, so one of us can know where you are."
Midoriya looked up with surprise, eyes widened.
"Y-yeah…"
There were a few more moments of pseudo-tense silence, as everyone stared awkwardly at each other.
"How… how did you know where to find me?"
The underground hero closed his eyes, tilting his head off to the side. He kept his relaxed stance, along with the slouch and hidden hands.
"You're lucky… I had a little help," the man shrugged.
Almost like clockwork, there came a small cry from behind Aizawa just as he finished. But as the noise echoed around in his head, Midoriya realized that it didn't really sound like it came from behind the teacher. No, it was almost as if it came from where he was standing.
The boy really didn't have time to be confused, because suddenly, a small mass popped out from the hood of the casual sweatshirt Aizawa had on. It chirped again and it was clear that the sound came from it this time. But now that it was out in the dawning sunlight, Midoriya could clearly see the familiar grey fur.
Links practically lit up at the sight of the shocked teen, having no real idea how startling his presence was. He shuffled around in the teacher's hood excitedly, making several daring attempts to escape before Aizawa just settled for taking him out himself. The kitten seemed to settle down in Aizawa's arms for just a moment, calming everyone else, before suddenly leaping from the perch and crashing onto the sand.
Gami let out a stifled snort even through the hand covering his face.
Midoriya took a cautious step backwards, caught off guard by the sudden movement in the once still atmosphere.
Aizawa's arms flinched in reflex at the motion, but overall remained very relaxed and underwhelmed by the situation.
Links however, seemed to subsequently regret his plan of action after landing so harshly on unfamiliar terrain. The cat stumbled around on the semi-solid surface, trying his best to regain some semblance of footing in the sand. The abrupt change in control really freaked Links out, making him flail around in an attempt to gain some kind of progress. Sand was kicked up into the ocean breeze in every direction as soft paws swiped its gritty texture.
Still, Links was a man with a plan… or at least a cat with one. With his panic fueled adrenaline, he thrashed his limbs, sort of half wobbling, half scrambling, full Tasmanian deviling in Midoriya's direction. Eager to escape the unknown earth, he leapt upwards once he figured he was close enough. He leapt up, limbs sprawled out, right at Midoriya.
The teen couldn't deny, seeing a terror of fuzzy fur flying towards him like a cannonball sparked some terror of his own. His head kind of ran blank for a moment, unsure of what to do, despite having his new gloves on.
"Hold out your arms!"
That he could do.
Links landed in his arms like a dead weight, taking a second to collect himself before shaking out the sand from his fur. Now comfortably off of the unstable terrain, the kitten settled comfortably in his target's grip, of which was more floaty and definitely not as confident as Aizawa's.
Midoriya was shaking ever so slightly, like the cool breeze off the water was crawling up his spine. His mind ran blank with panic, with nausea washing over him like salty ocean water. He couldn't do this. His arms were unsteady. He couldn't do this. He was going to hurt the innocent creature before him. He couldn't do this. He was dangerous. He was a threat to everything he cared about. A ticking time bomb just waiting to go off. It would only take one time, one incident, to completely shatter his potential for heroism forever. His powers weren't meant to help people. He wasn't meant to help people-
There was a sudden, yet reassuring wrap around him, a chilly little hug that snapped him back to reality. He ended his blank stare that traveled out to nowhere, and looked down at his chest, where two familiar arms met his gaze, dressed in comorting black robe. He could feel the temperature drop that was centered behind him move to encompass the entirety of the surrounding air, almost like a second hug.
He deescalated almost instantly, which went just as unnoticed as his escalation in the first place.
"There is no need to grow uncertain." The ghost's voice was as soft as the wet sand by the shore. "Look how well you are doing."
He did. He looked down at the fluff ball in his arms slowly, who either seemed not to notice his insecurity or not care. His comically large head looked up to meet the boy's eyes and practically smiled while nuzzling further into his arms.
And suddenly, he felt okay.
His heart stopped jumping out of his chest. His breaths came out smoothly through his mouth. His limbs found more stability. And his eyes no longer held that same shine of alarm.
"You doing alright there, Problem Child?" Aizawa asked, albeit a bit later than he should have, "You need me to take him?"
In any and all other circumstances, Midoriya would've agreed in a heartbeat. He didn't trust himself to handle something so delicate with the care that it required. But now, he was doing it. For the first time, he was holding another living being that wanted his touch. He was holding him and everything was okay and he was happy.
Links meowed in his arms, the sound sending another rush of warmth through his veins and up to his head like alcohol.
"I-I'm okay…"
Gami smiled from behind him and slowly removed his arms to stand beside him. Even Aizawa hid a smirk from his cheeks, easily overpowered by his nonchalant attitude.
"Alright then," the teacher nodded off to the side, pausing almost like he was hesitant, "You know Problem Child, you don't give yourself nearly enough credit."
Midoriya couldn't stop himself from calling out, startled by the sudden and not so hidden shift in topic. "What?"
The hero finally removed one of his hands from his warm sweater pockets only to gesture it towards him. "You have much more control over your abilities than you seem to realize, but your own fear prevents you from leaving your comfort zone."
The teen sputtered again, though not out of embarrassment like he did the first time, "But I'm dangerous! My powers can really hurt someon-"
"Everyone has the ability to cause harm to others," Aizawa interrupted without mercy, "Ashido can burn through flesh with her acid, Iida's kicks can break ribs, even Uraraka can float someone directly out of the atmosphere if she wanted to. The only difference is that some powers are viewed as more inherently dangerous than others."
Midoriya averted his gaze towards the kitten in his arms, unable to look his teacher in the eyes anymore. "B-but my damage is permanent. I-If I hurt someone, there's no going back…"
"Have you killed anyone?"
He was taken aback by the blunt and unruly question, so much so that he literally did take a step back in shock. "N-no! Of c-course not!"
"Have you killed anyone? Have you hurt anyone?" Aizawa asked rhetorically, "Even before Nezu gave you those new gloves, nothing has ever gone wrong despite your fears. You've never let anything go wrong, because you're in control."
That was true. He'd never hurt anyone with his powers as of yet, but that was the thing. There was still so much life ahead of him, so much more time for him to screw up and make a mistake he couldn't take back. He'd only attributed his clean record to dumb luck, to pure coincidence that was going to run out sooner or later.
But… was there more that he was missing?
There was a soft rub against his gloved fingers, and he refocused from his thoughts back down to his arms. Links rubbed his petite nose against one of his fingertips, and he was able to feel the coldness even through the polyester. Noticing that he'd finally caught the boy's attention, the kitten looked up, then closed his eyes to give what looked to be an elated grin. Midoriya had seen the cat smile before, if it could be called that, and it usually unnerved him to some extent, but now, he found no such feelings in his heart. If anything, he was filled with this serene calmness, almost like his veins were flooded with the glitter on the ocean surface.
He carefully moved one of his hands out from under Links, only to bring it back to the top of his head and give the kitten a soft stroke. Even with the gloves, he could tell just how soft his fur really was.
A smile of his own tugged at his lips.
It was wonderful.
"That cat sure is strange," Aizawa thought aloud, changing the subject yet again, "I'm still not sure how it managed to lead me directly to you; he seems very attached to you for some reason."
Midoriya looked up snappily. That was weird. How could Links have possibly known where he was, much less have led Aizawa to him? Plus, he'd always been so averse to being around animals, especially coming into contact with them. But Links managed to squeeze past those boundaries like it was nothing, almost like those boundaries weren't there to begin with. It was really unnerving, the fact that instincts so characteristic of himself were being practically replaced with feelings he couldn't place.
"It is odd how that feline always has such an acute sense of the situation," Gami remarked with a shrug.
The teen glanced back down at the now purring, albeit softly, kitten in his arms. Either Links had no clue he was being talked about, which would be the more explainable reason, or he was silently aware of everything, and just made no motion to show that. The ball of fluff just comfortably curled up some more, and realizing he was going to get no answers from staring, Midoriya lifted his head back up.
"We should head back," Aizawa broke the silence, glancing over at the rising sun, "The last thing I think either of us need is Zashi waking up and freaking out."
The student nodded, and the trio officially began exiting the sandy shore, treading themselves towards the stairs. Gami floated alongside his successor, keeping a watchful eye on the cat in his arms, which didn't even stir at the movement. Upon reaching the concrete steps, Midoriya kicked the sand from his shoes, which wasn't very effective, before settling for the cleanliness he was going to get and scurrying up.
"If you really want to-" the hero suggested as they walked down the sidewalk- "we can come back later today and work on some techniques I think you could incorporate into your scythe."
Midoriya looked a bit caught off guard, taking a second to pause while trying to match his teacher's pace.
"Yeah t- I'd like that."
Gami beamed at the two in front of him, truly proud of the development before him. He nearly put his hand on the other man's shoulder before deciding against it, preferring to simply walk between them.
The roads were still fairly desolate even at this dawning hour. The streets laid in shadow, with it being too dark to really be out, but too bright for the streetlamps to automatically turn on. The rare car passed them on their walk home, usually driving past in a hurry before continuing on its way. Ambient noise scattered itself in any free space available: in bushes, in alleyways, in the painted sky. The teen had nearly forgotten he was walking with anyone while simply observing the world around him. It was amazing what a simple change in day could do to an old landscape.
"Hey Midoriya?" The silence was then subsequently broken, but only for a second.
Startled and a bit confused at the lack of nickname, said boy raised his eyes to meet the side of his homeroom teacher's face. "Hm?"
Aizawa didn't bother making eye contact, keeping his focus on the sidewalk ahead of him.
"How would you feel about meeting Kiyori Ryōyami?"