A/N: So, to begin, this is a Quirkless! AU! No one has a Quirk at all! Also, I recently rewatched Hazbin Hotel, and you'll see why this is relevant soon. With that, off we go!

Bakugou's POV

"Whoa, you got dorm 603? Good luck, man," some senior said, handing me a slip of paper.

"The hell does that mean? Do I have some shitty roommate?" I asked, the grip on my suitcase tightening.

"You could say that," he laughed. "Anyway, glad to have you here! Hope to see you around!"

I rolled my eyes before I glanced at the paper.

That asshole... what did he say his name was? Tsumigu? Tsumugu? Tsumugi?

It was a map of the campus, and two places were circled; my dorm building and the place I was now.

Beginning the walk, I put my earbuds in, turning on a random playlist, immediately skipping the first song.

Why did they make her song so slow? Jane could've been way cooler if her song was as fast paced as everyone else's.

The walk wasn't necessarily long, it's just assholes are slow.

Plus two dude got into a fist fight, right in the middle of the walk way.

Or so I thought, until they stopped and bowed.

A street act? On the first day? With legitimate punches? Wow.

"Whatever," I scoffed, moving through.

"Hey,"

One of the dudes looked at me, holding out a flyer.

He looked somewhat intimidating, with his purple undercut and yellow eyes, but I could see he wasn't gonna fight me.

"What classes are you here for?"

"Not registered for anything yet," I mumbled.

"Take this. Mankai club. We're a theatre group that has four sub troupes, based off the seasons. You'd do auditions for the troupe that best works for you. Might like it," he said.

I took the flyer, looking it over.

"I'll think about it," I said before walking off.

•••

The elevators were broken.

Of fucking course they were.

"Might as well just hold this normally then," I sighed, picking up my suitcase and heading up the six stories worth of stairs.

Yet, on the stairway to the six floor, I could hear music faintly playing.

Meaning it would be blasting when I actually got up there.

This better not be my fucking roommate, or we're gonna have a few fucking problems.

I got my shit up to the door and pulled out my key.

And, wouldn't ya know it, but the music was coming from my dorm!

Meaning that my roommate is gonna annoy the ever loving FUCK outta me!

I opened the door, only to hear someone singing along to "Party in the USA" by Miley Cyrus.

What, are they a teenager girl?

When I actually walked in, I tried to look for the source of the singing.

"Oh my goodness, you're here!"

Before I could look for them, a head popped out of the wall.

"Hello!"

"WHAT THE FUCK!?"

The rest of their body went through the wall, casually floating a few inches off the ground.

His black hair brushed against his shoulders and bangs covering parts of his face, he was dressed in a button up, slacks and suspenders.

"So you're my roommate this year! Pleasure to be meeting ya! Quite a pleasure! I'm Eijirou Kirishima, your new roommate!"

"Uh..."

"Excuse the odd introduction, I just adore the little radio box that somebody left here years ago!"

He pulled an MP3 player out of his pocket and gave me a sharp toothed grin.

"Wh..."

"Uh, hello?" He asked with a grin before lightly tapping his throat.  "Is this thing on?"

I blinked and swallowed.

"Wait, hold on," I began. "You're dead... right?"

"Yes, indeedy!" he said with a bit too much enthusiasm.

Okay... I have a dead roommate who talks like he died almost a century ago, and sings along to Miley Cyrus.

"Oh, please," he floated up to me. "Smile, my dear!"

"What?! Why?!" I hissed as he cupped my face.

"Well," he floated a bit higher, laying in the air as if it were a bed. "You're never fully dressed without one!"

Oh my god, what the fuck is he?

"You mind if I ask you some questions,"

"Have at it, my friend!" he grinned, floating over to the fridge.

"When did you die?"

"Hmm, I believe it was 1934!" He laughed. "Was shot and killed for marrying another man!"

"Oh," I mumbled.

Not quite the way I was expecting.

"Wanna see the bullet wound?" he asked with a creepy grin.

"Uh... sure?"

Moving his bangs out of the way, a bullet hole went through the left side of his forehead.

"Oh,"

I literally cannot form a proper sentence right now.

Or ever.

But right now, it's exceptionally harder.

"Yessir! Shot once in the head and broke my neck!"

His giggle was infectious, yet it wasn't quite the best time for it.

"Now I can turn my head all the way around!" He grinned happily, covering his bullet hole again. "That's how I scare people I don't like away!"

"I take it you like me then?" I asked.

"I'd say a little bit more than that, my blond buddy!"

"P-pardon?!" I sputtered like a fish just thrown onto a dock.

"You're quite the eyecandy, y'know!" the raven haired boy gave a laugh.

Feeling my face burn, I turned away.

"Were you this much of a flirt when you were alive?"

"Only a few weeks before I died!"

Every time he spoke about his death or the fact he was dead, he always laughed.

It seemed somewhat... fake?

I mean, who the hell can comfortably talk about their own death?

Other than a Gen Z kid or millennial.

"You okay?"

"Just dandy! Why?" he asked with a huge smile.

"You're just... so... happy? It's not something I'd expect from someone who died for something he couldn't change about himself," I mumbled.

"Well, my whole family was killed for that same reason! My two moms were murdered for their illegal marriage!" he laughed merrily.

"WHY DO YOU SOUND SO HAPPY?!"

"You're never fully dressed without a smile!"

"Wanna talk?" I asked the ghost.

"Only if it's with your lips," Kirishima winked at me.

"STAHP--"

A/N: Sorry for lateness. I was just writing this on and off all day. Already almost half way through the month! Also, I have a question for you guys. The oneshot "Another Life" is still up, right? Because it says it's a draft, but Jelly says that it's up, so I'm confused if this is Wattpad being stupid or something. That's all! Stay safe and healthy! - Septic / Spark