Ashes of the Deceived. (Izuku Midoriya x reader.)

Chapter Ten.

—First Person POV.—

Thankfully, my mom allows me to sleep through most of the day— Only waking me up to tell me she'll be in the kitchen and that she filled the bath with tea leaves, lavender and balladonna.

Of course, I don't refuse and once I hear the front door shut I push myself up and out of my bed.

Moving hurt.

Everything hurt, but that's what getting thrown around a house all night by the King of death will do to you.

As I'm passing by my door, my eyes catch on to a nearby shelf where a phone sat, well, my phone sat.

It had been a while since I had last used it, I mainly only use it for calls so it's easy to forget.

I was about to disregard the device before a thought slipped past my mind— I know I'm outmatched, it hasn't happened very often, and never to this degree.

But occasionally, I need to ask for help.

I grab it on my way to the bathroom, dialing an old friend, a friend for generations— He actually knew my dad.

"What?" A tired voice grumbles, the small fragments of sleep still evident through the speaker "Hey Aizawa." I greet, setting my phone down so I could sink into the tub of warm water.

A sigh brushes past my lips as Aizawa yawns on his end "I'm assuming you didn't call me to talk about visiting."

Straight to the point, as always.

A chuckle escapes my throat "Is it that obvious?" I could practically hear him nod from his end.

"I need help, I've run into a completely sticky mess."

"What kind of sticky mess?"

"The dead kind."

"Of course." There's shuffling on his end before he goes silent allowing me to start.

I tell him about Izuku, then I here more shuffling as he starts rummaging through his book shelves.

"He's no ordinary ghost, obviously." He says, the sound of him flipping through the pages faintly passing through the speaker "I know, somethings made him stronger."

"The way he died?" He questions and I subconsciously shrug.

"I don't think so." I know he raised an eyebrow towards my words "From what I've heard, he just killed himself. Hung or jumped off the roof of his school, but now he's haunting his old house— Killing whoever steps inside, like some damn spider."

"Language." He grumbles, clearly annoyed.

"Sorry." He sighs "He's defiantly not just some shifting wraith." He mutters to himself "And his behavior is far too controlled and intelligent to be a poltergeist—" He comes to a short pause, the sound of him flipping through pages returning.

He continues to try and put a name to Izuku but is obviously coming to nothing, we both haven't seen anything like this.

The line fills with more silence before I suggest just burning the house down and calling it a day.

"Don't do that." He spoke sternly "The house could be the only thing holding him."

"Or it could be the source of his strength."

"Yeah, it could be. But it's too much of a risk, you should investigate more." I deadpan at the thought, sitting down and investigating isn't really my strong suit.

"Investigating as in?"

He'll probably tell me to go to the nearest library for legwork aka find newspaper or anything with Izuku plastered on it to study—