His imaginary friend, a MHA story

•Chapter 5: The brother and the older sister•

Like in a slow-motion anime, I saw Nao's hand rise to slash Daikon's face. Daikon trembled, holding his hand up to protect his already grazed face. So many thoughts passed by my mind in such a fast time. But... I decided myself. At the last second. Nao couldn't hurt hurt me, even if he saw me and knew about me, and really did desire to wound me.

Because I'm dead.

There was no time to ask why I was dead, how I died. Those two questions lingered endlessly in the back of my head, yet I pushed them away. I didn't want to know. Now, there's no time to look back and question why.

Save and win.
Win and save.

Like lightning ripping through the air, I placed myself between Daikon and Nao. Nao's slash hit me, but it didn't even hurt. And before spoon hair could even react to what had just happened, I threw my hand at him, my palm heating up, screaming:

"DIEEEEE!!!!!"

BOOM. Spoon bitch was blasted away, his head hitting a nearby desk with a sickening thump. He coughed a few, crimson drops, landing on his white shirt. His limbs flopped, life-less, his head tilting a little by a the side. I thought he was knocked out until he slowly lifted his head up, looking back, his eyes filled with disbelief, anger, fear- a whole tornado of emotions.I smirked. How'd you like that, you asshole?

Daikon trembled a little. Then, he threw himself at me, wrapping his tiny arms around my waist (he was too small to actually reach me).

"Kaaachaaaan!! Waaah, that was scary!!!" He sniffed, the sound of him sucking his mucus in disturbingly clear.

"Fuck off, Daikon!" I was about to shake him off, but as I turned around to look at him, I got a proper view of his face.

It was bloody, as though he just got out of a fight with a villain. Two huge scratch marks were still bleeding down his face, tickling his cheeks, like two red beads trickling down. He was so suprisingly wounded, I even froze a little at the state of his injuries. I suddenly remembered what Daikon had told me on the bus.

"They're nothing compared to the others."

Was spoon bitch and his gang of blood sucking vacuum cleaner and fading-to-blue-does-nothing dude what Daikon was talking about? That's just sick. Really sick. Making fun of Daikon is one thing, but to the point of nearly killing him is fucking unbelievable! He should go shove his hands in his ass-

Wait.

Hypocriiiite, a tiny voice said, like a silent whisper only I could hear.

Oh.

But this is different, isn't it?! I don't feel guilty about doing that to Deku, because he deserved it. He was asking for it, wasn't he, always looking down on me.

"W-w-..." Shit! I forgot spoon hair was there. I prepared another explosion. He was going to get it. It felt good, beating up the people who defied me, who didn't believe I could do anything. That's right. This kid is exactly like Deku, isn't he.

The two others looked equally terrified. An awful open mouth, jaws dropped, was enough to say so. They were slowly backing away. However, they were looking at... Daikon.

HEY?!! I WAS THE ONE WHO BLEW THE SHIT OUT OF YOUR BRAINS!!! HE DOESN'T DESERVE ANY CREDIT, THIS LITTLE GHOSTBUSTER RUNT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING!!! A small fire of hatred ignited, preparing to murder, and to make sure that this Nao guy never dares to defy the great Bakugo ever again. That's why I beat him up, right? Not because of Daikon's gaze of "save me Kachaaaan" meant anything to me. Not a single bit. Hell, no.

"I'M GOING TO FUCKING MURDER YOUUUUUU!!" I started stomping my way over the shocked brats, not daring to move, but Daikon held my shirt back.

"Wait, Kacchan! You can't!"