(Ghost!Izuku Midoriya x Reader.)
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He's staring down at me with those dead eyes holding a calm expression.
I let out a chuckle, weakly bringing my hand up to wave at him "Hey, Izuku." The name drips from my lips in a pained attempt of greeting, a lo...
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There's a timeline breakdown provided at the bottom!
—First Person POV.—
I grabbed the knife before we left.
By the time we shuffled out the door, the sun was still stretching its way up from the horizon—dragging warm golds and sleepy blues across the sky like it had all the time in the world.
Katsuki climbed into the backseat without a word—hoodie sleeves pulled halfway over his hands, his knees spread wide as he leaned against the window with his sharp jaw resting in his palm.
Scarlet eyes scanned the terrain outside.
Eijiro took shotgun, naturally—already idly tapping into the car's Bluetooth "I'm gonna queue some stuff," He informed, not waiting for an answer as he clicked through Spotify.
"Make it good." I hummed while pulling out of the driveway.
The engine rumbled beneath us, a low purr under my hands as we rolled down the street—leaving the comfort of my home behind.
Katsuki didn't say much.
Didn't need to.
His eyes were busy taking everything in.
The flicker of streetlamps still clinging to life, the old man in slippers grabbing his newspaper, the chipped paint on the stop signs, and the slow crawl of sleepy cars merging onto the road.
His head was tipped just enough that I could see his reflection in the rearview mirror—calloused features softened slightly by the passing light and the reflection between us.
His scarlet eyes were focused, flickering every so often and catching on tiny things most people wouldn't give a second glance.
It made me wonder how long it had been since he'd seen any of this.
The living world.
Open roads, real skies, and the hum of a town that wasn't afraid of the dark.
"Dude," Eijiro suddenly spoke up, laughing as he held up his phone "This playlist is called 'Running From My Problems at 70mph,' you want that or 'Tumblr Girls Vibes—2014?'"
Katsuki let out a low grunt from the backseat "The first one sounds like your life story, Shitty-Hair."
I snorted.
"Why are you always insulting my hair?" Eijiro grumbles, scrolling on his phone a bit more before a song started blasting through the speakers—making me jump.
We drove like that for a while—windows cracked just enough to let in a breeze, music weaving through songs I'd half-forgotten, the occasional joke tossed between me and Eijiro with Katsuki dead silent behind us.
He wasn't tense or sulking— Just watching.
Occasionally, I caught him leaning forward between the seats, scarlet gaze flicking toward the screen as if the names of the songs meant something to him.
