Not Gone. (Ghost Deku AU)

Chapter Ei8ht

As requested.
_E-A-R-L-I-E-R_ (In Nezu's Office)

_A-I-Z-A-W-A_S-H-O-U-T-A_

"And so that is the situation." the small white animal in front of me repeats after explaining the situation. Sipping on another cup of tea, comparable to the coffee in my hands. How many cups have I had today? "It is rather peculiar isn't it." he goes on, staring into the cup.

"It seems the others have had similar encounters with the kid as well, but I can't say how many for sure." I recite, pinching the bridge of my nose. This was going to be a long day, and it had barely started. My tiredness catching up to me, "So what are we going to do?" I ask the small principal sitting in the chair a head of me.

"We will do..." he pauses for a second obviously thinking of what comes next. "nothing." I drop my head, he has some strange methods, but I'm sure he's obviously thought this through. "We will start up a file, and you may investigate this to your liking, but you are not to inform others yet." I know he's thinking of something but I'm still lost. I stand up, bowing lightly watching my coffee as not to spill it. Exiting the room, I think to myself, 'what could this kid be doing, why is he here, is it a quirk?' I try to shake the thoughts off and remember what I talked through with Toshinori.

I get home, walk straight past the screaming blonde, and go into the office.  I open the search tab and think. Izuku Midoriya, nicknamed Deku, age is 14, quirk is unknown, everything else I could possibly need to know is unknown. I slam my head into my hands, this is going to be difficult. I start going through old records, anything I can find about the child, though, most of it seems to be about his accident 8 years ago. I log into the police records, the perks of being an underground hero I guess, and search the name. Some information not previously known information shows up, Age 8, I guess that's not relevant anymore, Parents, Father: ABSENT, Mother: Inko Midoriya, that might be helpful. I write down the address and name on a small notepad before continuing with the document. Quirk:, this is what I was looking for, QUIRKLESS. I slam my now empty mug onto the floor, shattering it to piece. Hizashi runs into the room and looks at me, slumped onto my desk.

"What is it this time?" he inquires, I guess he's getting used to my breaking of things. Despite the message from Nezu, I tell the Hizashi the whole story. He hums in thought.

"Have you tried--"

"Tried it."

"But I didn't even."

"I already tried looking more into the parents, their quirks are completely different." He sighs, pulling up a chair beside me. I continue running though more of the information but none of it seems to matter. The information is loose since he was still a child. A child...

"A CHILD!" I call out in a sudden burst of energy, before slumping back into my chair. The person beside me starts to ask when I cut him off. "If he was a child, even if he was deemed quirkless, even past age four, he could have developed a quirk he was just unaware of it after his quirk test." The man hums again. I look at the time in the corner of my screen, 12:25 AM. I grab my scarf and slip my shoes on. "I'm going out to check some stuff out."

I exit the door before the other could protest and convince me either to sleep or let him come with me. I walk down to the back alley I had seen in the news articles previously. I look around, the set sun not helping the darkened area. Only the faint glow of the moon guides me to the small looking shrine. I whip out a tiny flashlight, I didn't want to alert others to my presence but I have to look in finer detail. The odd car passes on either side of the street tail and headlights in a blur. I grab the small photo and examine it. A small boy with unruly hair and large eyes. The image is heavily damaged due to the weather. All colour is gone, with only the faint outlines of his features. He's a cute child. Too bad this had to happen to him at such a young age. The flowers are left dead on the cold concrete, the cracks in the road let a small amount of grass poke through. The form from earlier slipps into my mind. It was loose but still had some basic shape to it. Now that I think about it, I have had my own encounters with the strange wind, spraying files across my room, guiding me to vigilante situations. I never really thought to much of it. How much has this kid done? If this is what he's been doing, how much has he orchestrated? If everyone in the class has felt this, did he bring the class of 1-A together? And did he do it for a reason? --No no no, there is no way. It would have taken years of tireless work to do that, he would have had it investigate each and every applicant and figure out their quirks and then manipulate them into his desired situation. There is no way a 14 year old could have done all that.

_N-E-Z-U_

four months ago.

It is finally time! The exams are over and the teachers have decided who shall be accepted! I jump into my chair looking at the hundreds of files on my desk. I grab my tea and start randomly throwing files into different folders. I wonder how things will go this year! I, of course, put some aside for different classes but after a little while everyone's handle on their quirk becomes the same, so it doesn't really matter which class I throw them in.

A cool breeze fills the air, I must have not locked the window, I think to myself, turning around to see the sealed glass. Oh, I see. The hero course folders are now scattered on the floor. I jump down, "Hello." I speak. The wind is almost gone but I can see the light movement in the corners of the papers on my desk. "Would you be so kind as to put the folders back?" I ask, walking back to grab my tea. The wind quickly rushes to it, a straight divide in the papers, equal groups. I close my eyes. I wonder what more I will find out about you later this year, I ponder in my head. Of course this was a child, he was unable to finely control the papers into going back into the folders. I slide the papers in and bring them back over to my desk, looking at the folder that was slightly neater from the sorting. 1-A. Will it be you?  I look over to the other class, 1-B, or will it be you?

Present.

Well, I guess that answers my previous question. I sit at the computer creating the new file for "Izuku Midoriya". The old one held by the police should stay as it is until we know more. I put my paw onto the keyboard while holding my tea in the other. I write as much as we know from what Aizawa has told me. So what comes next Mr. Wind?

A/n. I am so lucky to have so many great readers! I appreciate every single one of you! Thanks for reading -Miss_Fall