In which Doma, or Upper Moon TWO, finds himself thrown into the BNHA universe in his quest for love. But things don't always go as planned and now the body's not his :(

Will contain spoils for both KNY and BNHA (more for the second one)

-Doma finds himself living within Hibiki Todoroki; or Toya Todoroki's younger twin brother. Both have a very good relationship

-Because of Doma's influence, Hibiki is not all that disapproving of Endeavour's practices

-I'm actually feeling a bit reticent despite being excited as BNHA isn't finished yet— am I the only one who's afraid of writing something about an unfinished world, like, what if the next chapter completely ruins my set up?

-Although he does not hate Shoto, Hibiki does not appreciate him either and finds a certain pleasure in making him suffer— the story doesn't aim to be angsty though

-Like Perfect Copy, Two will have its fair share of OCs as Hibiki is not the same age as the Canon main cast and he needs some peers

Death was delightful, truly.

---

Doma didn't ask for much, all he wanted was for Shinobu to look at him like he looked at her. He simply hadn't expected that in his quest for l o v e, he'd find himself jumping into the Reincarnation pool and into a completely different universe with no clue where his beloved could be.

"Now, now, Sho-chan, don't go fainting alone," the boy drawled, voice seemingly tinted with laughter as his lips twisted into a broad smile. Eyes slightly bent, leaving the artificial light to make them glisten, the boy with a somewhat taller stature bent backward, looking down on the younger boy as if to taunt him.

The bi-colored-haired male difficulty gasped for air. Arms crossed over his stomach as he curled on himself to soothe the pain. He didn't seem the least bit aware of what the ginger head was saying. His pupils were shrunken, and his heterochromatic eyes misted over.

He hated this.

He loathed it.

He despised it.

He feared it.

The younger on the floor shivered. It wasn't a nervous reaction. It was from the cold building up at the sole of his feet, the frost that slowly but surely crawled closer to him. He could smell the recognizable scent of blood that permeated the room.

"W-wait," he croaked out, voice cracking and trembling as he tiredly tried to push himself off the floor.

Why wait? The Strong eat the Weak; you do not have to wait, Hibiki. The voice was mature and explicit, ringing in the taller's mind like a beautiful sonnet. Hibiki's broad grin deepened as he unconsciously licked his upper lip, drinking the pitifully attractive form of his brother laying on the ground, painted in blood and adorned with ice and frost. The bi-colored-haired male made for a beautiful composition, the crimson of the blood highlighted his skin's pallor. It brought forward a new beauty to his heterochromatic eyes. Tasty~ The voice purred; doesn't he look delectable? Hibiki did not answer the voice, but he felt himself unconsciously swallow. He felt somewhat parched, throat drying up with ease as his pair of blue eyes melted in a symphony of colors.

"What is there to wait for, Sho-chan? Do you think the enemy will ever wait for you?" he sermoned, voice lilting as he brought one of his metallic fans to cut his wrist. Fresh blood dripped along his wrist, down his palm, and to the tip of his fingers before gently gliding along the sharp edges of the weapon in his hands. The iron fragrance grew stronger— Shoto felt himself stiffen at the realization.

Hibiki cut himself, again. The younger struggled, forcing energy into his arms and legs as he felt the frost covering his ankle fall off to the side. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, alarms blared like deathly sirens in his skull, urging him to get away, to retaliate, to survive. Some part of him desperately thought of using the fire his progenitor bestowed him. The notion made him feel sick. He refused to submit to such a thing.

The peculiar sound of Hibiki's Gunsen opening sent another chill down Shoto's spine— he hated how his brother always took his time to attack him. As if he were insignificant, a prey, something to toy with. He loathed how weak he was, always submitting to the older's quirk. He feared the look in Hibiki's eyes, even more so when his petroleum blue eyes would melt into a multitude of other colors, never settling for one and constantly swirling with a new shade.

Splatters of blood fell on Shoto as he began to slowly stand up. He summoned his ice quirk, the cold biting at his skin as his shaky breath turned into a cloud of white. His arm felt numb, from the pain, from the cold, he did not know anymore— though he knew the cold was not helping. His head throbbed, and his sight shook; heterochromatic eyes swimming with dizziness and tiredness— fear dashed his vision.

He felt sick.