[Ghouligan]

What an odd day.

For whatever reason, Antoine had woken up with telepathic powers. These very powers allowed him to speak to and understand other people in Japan — almost like a universal, language translator. As far as he knew, these powers were completely unrelated to his quirk. But that didn’t stop him from looking deeper into the prospect.

Searching for more information online, he came across various articles on spontaneous power development. They all seemed to fall within a limited scope of abilities, too. Some people gained multiple powers, too. And if people were gaining powers, they were likely abusing them.

Antoine put on his garb. He wore his demon mask and pulled on his four-link chain until he revealed the fifth link, transforming into a being a pure force. The black wisps dripped off his body with each step he took into the night. His shift at Bernie’s had ended an hour ago. And with a few leads, he looked to clean up whatever messes he could find.

---

Shion Utsui

[Shion Utsui]

終ノ空 The faint noises of traffic, chattering people, and footsteps could be heard in the back-alleys that Antoine was being followed through. Despite news of this phenomenon, Shion appeared to be among the few who remained unaffected. Just as the science of quirks suddenly changing remained a mystery, the persistence of Toto, the jingu remained unexplained. Th youth in question was around the corner of a concrete wall, having pinpointed Ghouligan's base of operations ever since that gathering of vigilantes came to be. Shion still couldn't believe that he didn't get caught eavesdropping on the conversation- if he had been caught, his life would surely have been in danger. Gritting his teeth, the youth kept his breathing stable as to not make too much noise. Stalking was no easy affair, especially when you had never done it before. Not to mention, Shion's reasoning for even going forward with this plot was flimsy in of itself. He didn't know the reason why curiosity had seized him, and why specifically the vigilante that had killed the person he was trying to protect- yet left the young hero alive. Ignoring the deafening beating of his heart due to the potential danger he could be faced with, he waited to see where the vigilante would go next so that the info gathering could continue. Ghouligan

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Ghouligan]

Someone had been following him.

He was no stranger to being stalked. Even without his newly blessed powers, which seemed to give him a general sense of people’s locations — even those that wished to be hidden — he would have caught the amateur. Despite their best attempts, their footsteps were too loud and their breathing too heavy. If it were anyone but Ghouligan, then they might have stood a chance.

Still, he led them further. Deeper into more isolated territories. If this were someone looking for blood, then he wanted to avoid casualties. And more so, wanted to learn who sent them. Ghouligan had been making his mark on Japan. People knew of him now. Even if they didn’t know his name. And with that meant more enemies. He’s left more than enough bodies to be on the receiving end of numerous murder plots.

He pulled out his cue stick, and pool ball, and aimed in front of him. There was no reason for his stalker to be concerned. Ghouligan merely saw something they did not. They slammed the two and it ricocheted at incomprehensible angles. If their eyes could follow, they would see it bounce numerous times before the final arc eventually strayed toward them. Then, it’d stop before making contact.

There was no impact.

But they would feel the air around them tighten. For now, they couldn’t move. Ghouligan made his way toward them, then saw a familiar face. One that he had spared. One who did not share his tongue. But on today of all days, he could get the answers he wanted.

“Oh, it’s you.” The thought went straight to their mind. It wasn't either of their primary languages but a third, unknown language they would both understand. The air softened. Shion could move again, free to his heart’s content. Antoine grabbed the pool ball and pocketed it. “Why are you here?”

---

Shion Utsui

[Shion Utsui]

終ノ空 "What's he doing. . . ?" Shion said to himself out loud, leaning forwards to get a better look what Ghouligan could have been aiming at. Was there a third party that he wasn't able to see yet? The pool ball was fired, and bounced off the decrepit walls like an odd imitation of a billiard table. Once he realized that the projectile was headed for him, Shion's eyes widened as he tried to back away- but at that point he had already been trapped. The normally shapeless air around him was hardened, like a solid wall. He couldn't move. Though, the impact that surely awaited him never came. It's source simply hung in the air, before a familiar hand, thin yet tough, took ahold of it. He knew all along! A familiar mask from before. The same skull he had stared into before losing consciousness. But not only that, the vigilante seemed to find a way to not only restrain their body, but also enter their mind without effort- undoubtedly a result of recent developments that seemed to affect everyone but Shion. "Y-You'd do the same thing if you were me! Why wouldn't I, after. . . what you did." The youth's grimace grew weaker as he went on, remembering the events of their prior meeting. That man's death weighed heavily on him, whether he truly deserved it or not. His eyes ended their defiant glare to gaze downwards, losing the need to feel alert as there was no point. Their gap in power was far too much. "I needed to find out for sure." Ghouligan

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Ghouligan]

“Find out what?” It was a rhetorical question. Antoine wasn’t expecting an answer. And even if he were, there wasn’t a large enough gap for Shion to start speaking. “If he deserved it?”

Apparently, being beaten with an inch of his life wasn’t enough for Shion. Did he have a death wish? A higher calling, perhaps? The frustration was palpable. If it weren’t for his features or lack thereof, then it would have been written all over his face. Despite this, Antoine understood. Not too long ago, he was young and looking for answers, too. But there were some answers you could only hear from your own mouth. It was a lesson he learned too late in life — one that came with the death of his father.

“Tell me,” This wasn’t about him anymore. If the stranger wanted answers, then Antoine would do for Shion what he wished would have been done for him. “When is it okay to kill?”

Until Antoine understood, he could never satisfy Shion’s questions. And until Shion understood himself, he would never be satisfied with the answers. And if it was never okay, then why ask in the first place? If it was never permissible, then why was Shion here?

---

Shion Utsui

[Shion Utsui]

終ノ空 Even if Shion did answer at first, it wasn't likely that Ghouligan would accept it. And how could he forget about what the vigilante put him through? The still-healing cuts and bruises beneath his bandages reminded him every day of his multiple struggles. On that night, Antoine had taken the fragile doll into his hands and squeezed it, squeezed it to the point that cracks were on the torso and flimsy limbs were falling out. Cracks could be mended back together, but some would never truly disappear. A flaw for every prospector and customer to turn their nose at. To say resentment wasn't in the heart would be a lie- only that the curiosity was far greater than it. But in the moment that the second question parted from the lips of the skull, the youth lifted his head as a look of realization conquered what weakness remained prior. Life without knowledge was palpable. But life without wisdom was just cruel. "You. . . don't know. That's why you didn't kill me." He could have done it, but he didn't. Shion could feel that he was growing closer to knowing what exactly stayed Ghouligan's hand. "But then why did you kill the lawyer? What made it fine to kill him but not me?" Answering a question with a question, one of the oldest ways to show that you didn't have an answer yourself. But there was no fear or shame of this in Shion's eyes. If it allowed him to understand Antoine, he might just accept appearing as a fool. Ghouligan

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Ghouligan]

Delusional.

Shion knew nothing of the world. And worse, they knew nothing of themselves. They desperately clung to anything and anyone in hopes of orienting themselves. Their dependence on the external world would be their downfall. If Antoine’s soul were a few shades, tonight might have been the night he finished the job. Instead, he saw a prospect — potential.

It was a conversation. Nothing more than a few words between strangers. But Antoine would be lying if he didn’t give strangers their due credit. It was strangers that made him the man he was… for better or worse. Finally, it was his turn to pass the torch. With the people he’s killed, he’s altered countless lives but none of which with conversation alone.

“I have a line,” Antoine said. “When people cross it, I do what needs to be done. Even if I don’t want to. Even if I don’t like it.” Make no mistake. If Shion had crossed his line, it’d be the end of him, too. “But these are my morals, my beliefs.”

The air was still.

“If killing is never justified,” Shion would not dodge the question. He may not have to answer Antoine, but he’d have to answer himself. Eventually. “Then does my answer matter?”

---

Shion Utsui

[Shion Utsui]

終ノ空 Not knowing made one a fool. But to know that one did not know, made them less of one. The response to his question, followed by the assumption of Shion's immaturity irked him. With the lack of self-preservation that Ghouligan couldn't understand manifesting again, the youth walked closer towards the taller man, forcing him to look directly at him. "How stupid do you think I am?! Of course killing is necessary sometimes, I'm not a child! I know that!" Magenta hair, now made red by the rays of the setting sun, blocked the source of it all. His face was darkened by the position of light, but the cracks of frustration were easy to see. "And you're not special- I have a line too, everyone does if they have a heart! I just don't know where it is. . . what, do you think I just came here to kill time?!" Shion's eyes stared in defiance, just like on that day weeks ago when they first met. His body hadn't grown any stronger since last time, but his will hasn't crumbled either. "I'm not expecting you to give the whole answer I need- but if it's just a small piece of the full picture you got, I'll damn well take it! I'm only beginning to uncover this whole thing, it's dangerous- I know, but I can't stop now!" He wasn't even sure there was a conspiracy, there simply was no way to prove it now. But what he was sure of was that the world wasn't what it seemed to be. And that somehow these "bad" people didn't bother to kill him. Eventually, Shion realized how loud he was being. And cooled down somewhat, answering the question in a way. "But yeah. . . your answer matters. It matters a lot to me." This wasn't normal, none of this was normal. And he was going to find out why. Ghouligan

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Ghouligan]

“It’s a difference in perspective,” Antoine knew people who refused to kill. He knew people who would rather die than stain their hands with blood — he still remembers how warm their dead bodies were when he found them.

“Some people don’t have lines. All life is sacred.” In a world of extremes, it was important to take every ideal into consideration. Those very ideals might be the death of you. A warranted one in Antoine’s line of work. “Or meaningless.”

He was done stating the obvious. Shion had given him enough.

“Kill time,” He mused back. “Or me — if you could.”

How would one fair with salt in their wounds? A violent outburst? Even if Shion struck, Antoine was ready. The distance between them was nothing more than an illusion. In an instant, a few inches could be an infinity with motion set to zero.

“There’s a system in place. There’s always a system in place,” Antoine began. “As long as there are people, there will be hierarchies and systems and bureaucracy. And if there are systems, there are people who will exploit that system. In doing so, they cannot be impugned.”

“The lawyer made a career of freeing the guilty. They indulged in getting away with it. They didn’t care about second chances, they didn’t care about justice. They did it because they could.” Antoine paused. “So I killed him. Because the world will be better off without him.”

---

Shion Utsui

[Shion Utsui]

終ノ空 The sun, the air, and even both their breathing seemed to hold completely still. For someone with more than 70 years left to live, youngsters like themselves always rushed head-first into danger. Shion's unflinching eyes squinted, the words seeming to make his theoretical flesh shrivel up like a slug. "How about. . . no? Even if I could, you wouldn't be worth killing." The hook with the bait on it had wounded the fish, but the bait itself remained there- untouched. Water would be reddened with the blood of hurtful memory, and the fisherman was still empty handed. Illusion may have made up the distance, but even an illusion was real to the individual in a subjective sense. While obviously seeming hurt by the recalling of events, the youth only continued to look at Antoine. "And that's why it's justified for you. To make the world better, you go outside the system and kill those abusing it. Because you can't see any other way." Shion crossed his arms, maintaining a guarded demeanor despite seeming to understand the logic behind Ghouligan's actions. "But how do you know you're right? What's keeping people like you in check from killing just about anyone for any reason?" Ghouligan

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Ghouligan]

“If I’m not worth killing, who is?” Antoine mulled over their answers. As lost as they were, they knew Antoine wasn’t ‘worth it.’ There was something underneath the mess of a human — a guiding light, a beacon of righteousness. This conversation was equal parts a lesson and a discovery with words meant to pave a path toward the innermost, foundational presumptions of the world. And through it, Shion would come to a fork in the road: acknowledge or reject themselves.

And then, Antoine mulled over their question. What series of words could he form together to speak the innermost workings of his psyche? Were there even words to speak this truth? And if there were, was he verbose enough to manifest them into this boy’s mind?

“If we refuse to do the right thing because we’re afraid of being wrong, the world would be a worse place.” There was more to it, too. There was a reason he didn’t kill Shion, someone at first glance who stood against him — blindly defending the wicked. Even if Shion knew, what they knew now, and chose to oppose him, Antoine would still spare them. “People like you.” He continued. “You say I’m not worth killing. But if there is a point where I am, then it’s your responsibility to get the job done.”

---

Shion Utsui

[Shion Utsui]

終ノ空 Surprisingly, there didn't appear to be much conflict in the youth's face at this point. Satisfaction was uncertain, but if he left at the point, he wouldn't return empty-minded. "That's easy. I shouldn't outlive even someone like you." Shion's answer was calm, the prospect of dying in place of a murderer not seeming to disturb him. Yes, the chance for influence- perhaps even dominance, was still present. Though at the same time, the power of the body didn't always match that of the mind. Would Ghouligan remember that? Even if there was a fork in the road, one could simply walk off it into the wilderness. A dangerous path to take, but still an option many forget. "That's true- though I'm not ready yet. But when I get there, I'll probably get accustomed to it. I know I'll have to make hard decisions." Despite being as far from friendliness as they were from the sky, white feathers of understanding still floated through the airy lake above them both. "Living your life like this- it must take a lotta' conviction. Did something happen to you?" Ghouligan

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Ghouligan]

He didn’t press further.

Details weren’t important. What Antoine inferred was more than enough: something had happened within Shion’s past. Whether a tragedy befell them or they were the cause of said tragedy mattered not. What mattered was the guilt — or presumed guilt — that weighed on their heart. Antoine was familiar with carrying a burden. He knew how it pressed uncomfortably against your shoulders. The pain in your back each night as you arose in the darkness, searching for the one thing to alleviate your spirit. The frustration of walking an endless journey, knowing you’d never find said thing. An exercise in futility.

Shion was at the beginning of his journey. Their admission spoke volumes. They weren’t ready. It wasn’t Antoine’s job to help them, but a part of him saw potential. Few people asked these questions of others, let alone themselves. Even those trying to be heroes.

“You won’t if you’re not careful,” Antoine said. “When you were unconscious your quirk tried to eat you. I’m assuming that’s not a feature.”

Now, he pried.

If Shion's quirk were really trying to eat him, then Antoine might have understood what happened in their past. To Antoine, this wasn’t worth death. Not yet. There was a path to redemption if they were willing to bear that cross.

“Nothing happened to me,” He lied. “I do what I do because I’m the only one who can.”

---

Shion Utsui

[Shion Utsui]

終ノ空 Bright eyes grew dark, slowly widening upon the indirect recollection of events. The feeling of colorless slime covering his entire body as the broomstick he had used for years, broken beside him. While Shion thought then that it had been done out of spite, the event seemed to be a gateway to the end. It was like when you expected a punch to the gut, but it still hurt when it made contact. You could feel what was inside being shaken, the bile, blood, and water within being smashed together as the walls which separated them broke down. A scream wouldn't have been out of the ordinary, far from it.  "That's. . . mean. I just met everyone, too." He said in a facsimile of calm, voice shaking harder than trees in a typhoon. It wasn't clear from the outside what this information meant for Shion, and Antoine didn't seem to get an explanation. A silence rested between them. One unlike the one from the fight before. Rather than tension and fire, morosity like rain draped over the youth who was born in bright colors. But like a bowl with a crack in it that had yet to break, it could still hold rice to feed the starving man. The spoon would smack into Ghouligan's mouth, far from a gentle touch. "Y-You liar." The hand twisted the spoon, bending it into a smile on Shion's face as he muttered the rebuke.  "The way you say that is just like. . . her. I can hear so much behind it, but you won't tell me anything. Why? Is there something you're scared of?" Ghouligan

MADE BY NIGHTBLOOM

[Ghouligan]

Met who? A meaningless question — any response would have been. For someone so quick to point their wretched fingers, Shion kept their own secrets, too. There was something atypical about this extraterrestrial as if its very existence didn’t bring up a plethora of questions. Antoine knew better, but it felt like more than a quirk. It felt alive.

“Everyone feels fear,” When Antoine lost his father, he fell into pits of despair. Not only for the loss of a parent but for the loss of his future. As irresponsible as he was, his father always put food on the table. Antoine never questioned when he’d get his next meal. It was a luxury he had taken for granted as he sat in his empty home, resentful of his father’s gambling addiction. “But I’m not here to share my story. Let alone with a stranger.”

He only knew of one way to illustrate the point.

“Find me a mustard seed from a house that has not suffered the death of a family member and I’ll tell you my story.” The parable offered plausible deniability. “Until then...”

Antoine stepped back. The night was young and he had places to be. And if Shion continued to pry into Antoine’s life, then he saw no point in pursuing this conversation further.

---

Shion Utsui