⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Y/N WAS SOBBING AS SHE reformed in the Netherworld. Her usual comfort space, a nook of shadow in the intangible realm of death, seemed cold and unwelcoming.  

So close. She had been so unbearably close to Shoto, but ... he had slipped through her fingers. 

There has to be a way.

Compartmentalise. Focus. Continue. 

"Y/N? I didn't expect to see you back here for another day, at least. How long has it been?"

Y/N raised her head, swiping at her eyes as another ghost stepped into her vision. "Hi, Shimura."

Shimura Nana [A/N - that's the previous holder of OFA and toshi/all might's mentor, if y'all didn't know] took in the sight of the crying teenager and sighed, placing her hand on Y/N's shoulder. Only ghosts could touch one another, and whilst the physical contact was reassuring, Y/N found herself sobbing a little harder at the reminder of what had gone down with Shoto mere minutes ago.

"How long has it been?" Shimura repeated, tossing her shoulder-length raven hair. "What happened?"

Y/N sniffled, attempting to regain composure in front of her spectral mentor. "Only a few hours. I just ... Shoto will do the anchor method. Everything will be- everything will be fine."

"You just did the thing," the other ghost observed. "The thing where you censor yourself and close off. What's wrong, Y/N? I've known you since you were six years old. You can tell me anything."

The story spilled out of her in every bit of detail, as she let herself painfully, yet therapeutically, relive it through her words. When her tale had concluded, Shimura sighed, wrapping an arm around Y/N's shoulders.

"It's okay to be sad - everyone is. I believe in your ability to keep smiling, and now you can get to work on the anchor method, alright?"

"Alright," Y/N nodded, pulling herself together. "Okay, tell me, informant - what you got?"

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

"Y/N," Shoto asked in a curious tone, raising his head from his desk and homework. "We've known each other for a while, right?"

"I'd say so," Y/N replied mildly, a teasing smirk at the corners of her lips. "Seven years, right?"

He flushed as she placed her hand on his workbook and leaned over his shoulder, so close that there was scarcely room for a breath to pass between them. "Right. But ... how do you look ..."

She arched an eyebrow.

"...older?" he finished meekly.

"Todoroki Shoto," Y/N glared. "Are you calling me old?"

"No, no, no!" he shook his head violently, waving his hands. "I just meant- I- wait-"

She laughed, waving off the boy's panic. "I was just kidding, Sho. I don't know how I age - I just do. Just like you."

"Good," the thirteen-year-old said, before he could register the words coming out of his mouth. "We can grow up together then, forever."

Expecting her to cringe, Shoto's heart beat in double time when she instead smiled.

"Forever. I promise."

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Shoto threw a rather expensive jacket across his room ... followed by one of his father's designer shoes, and a vintage vase that shattered rather dramatically.

"Shit."

His overwhelming emotions wilted at the destruction of the last object, and he bent to collect the remnants of the valuable pottery from the floor, clenching his fists around the shards so tightly that when he opened his fingers, the once-white porcelain dyed red by the blood that pooled in his palm.

"Shit. Shit. Shit."

Shoto breathed shallowly, resting his enclosed fist and his forehead against the impeccably white wallpaper, his loud inhales the only sounds filling his otherwise empty house.

White on red, just like the night-

He cut himself off, not wishing to relive the trauma of that night. When he was younger, and indeed, still nowadays as well, he had always asked Y/N hundreds of questions.

She had never once told him if she could actually revive herself or not.

"First time for everything," Shoto muttered to himself somewhat satirically, aware of the strangeness of his now-monologue, but well familiar with the feeling of seemingly talking to no one. 

He could suddenly feel the uncanny prickling of the hair on the back of his neck ... like he was being watched. 

Whirling around, he found himself captured in the raw intensity of a pair of red-rimmed e/c eyes.

"... Y/N."

"Sho."

She gestured to empty space beside her, nervously playing with her h/c hair. "You can't see her, but with us is Shimura Nana, my mentor and informant. She's going to walk us through the anchor procedure."

"N-now?" Shoto stuttered, pulling a bandage from a supply cupboard and wrapping it around his ripped palm. "Isn't this a bit ... I don't know ... sudden?"

"I got Izuku on the way here," Y/N stated, walking directly through him and into his bedroom. "That way there's someone alive to get help in case we need it."

The casual way she referenced his potential death somewhat unsettled Shoto, and he rushed to stand in front of her. "W-wait, Y/N, can I please talk to you for a moment? Um, alone?"

"Sure," the girl softened, quickly whispering to the air beside her. "Okay, Shimura went to check if Midoriya is there. What do you need?"

Shoto looked around the two of them for a moment, before letting the feelings and words he should have expressed that much earlier rush out. "I like you a lot, Y/L/N Y/N. So much. And I ... I don't want to lose you. Please promise me you won't make me live  ... or die, without you."

Y/N stepped closer to him, her childhood crush of years. "Forever, I promise. I like you a lot, too, Todoroki Shoto."

He let himself have a little cocky smile. "I suppose I'll just have to make sure you know it when this works."

She laughed loudly, calling Shimura back, who returned (apparently) with Midoriya by his side.

"You sure about this, Y/L/N?" the green-haired boy asked uncertainly, concern filling his eyes for his childhood friend.

"Yeah," both Shoto and Y/N responded in unison.

The girl set her mouth, a determined glare practically setting fire to the book she'd brought along with her. "Let's do this shit."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

thank you for reading this
book and i hope you enjoy it!
~ jazzi