#kamkong

Arashi gave up sleeping in a sleeping bag years ago.

No, his cats are warm, and they purr, and if anyone approaches, they'll chirp and yip and possibly eat them before he gets taken by surprise, and if the shinobi who go on mission with him have a problem with that, nobody's ever said it twice.

Ma and Pa help Kara pick out clothes for herself and Kal, and a strange child-sized seat with straps and fasteners on it, and something she thinks is a crib, and more little toys that she has to not cry over, and then a pretty bracelet made of colored glass beads all in all the shades of a prism. Kara isn't sure what it's for–she still hasn't figured out where the aliens wear their house signifiers–but Ma puts it on her, so she chocks up another point towards jewelry having more signifiers than clothing on this planet. 

It's pretty, so even though she doesn't know what it means, she doesn't mind wearing it. And–she thinks she can trust Ma and Pa. Or hopes she can, anyway. So letting them pick signifiers for her is something she thinks she can do. 

They don't pick out any jewelry for Kal, but she supposes he is a little young to wear it. And maybe the aliens don't bother with house signifiers for children anyway. She's seen a few more people with various styles of rings and necklaces and bracelets in the settlement so far, but mostly just adults and teenagers; not too many children. 

She does glimpse a girl(?) on the sidewalk with shiny pink and gold beads in her hair, but no one else seems to be wearing that particular style. Maybe she's not from around here either, Kara thinks. That might be what beads mean in general. 

The girl's are pretty too, either way. 

Ma pays the shop clerk with what Kara thinks might actually be paper money, of all things, and gets a small handful of metal tokens back. Pa straps the little chair into the back of his and Ma's transport, and Kara realizes it must be a safety seat of some kind for Kal, and her heart hurts as Ma shows her how to buckle him into it. 

They really don't need to be this kind, but she doesn't know how to tell them that.

Ma and Pa take them to another, bigger store, and Ma takes a metal cart from a stall, directs Kara to put Kal inside it, and then leads them to an aisle with a section of packages covered in pictures of alien infants. It takes Kara a moment to figure it out, but it looks like boxes of diapers and very small containers of baby food and cans of . . . some kind of nutritional powders, maybe? Kal is uninterested and only cares about his soft little dog, but Kara is relieved. She needs to be able to care for him, so she needs these things. If Ma and Pa are willing to help her get them . . . 

Well, she really doesn't know how she'll be able to pay that back, but she'll do her best to. 

Ma fills the metal cart with several different packages, and Pa walks off again. Kara tries not to worry about it and pays very close attention to the packages Ma is carefully picking out. She seems to know what she's doing, and if nothing else seems to be able to read the labels, which Kara herself definitely can't and Kal definitely can't–he can't even read Kryptonian yet. 

He'll maybe never be able to read Kryptonian, she realizes distantly. 

He'll . . . 

Ma picks up a sturdy-looking little drinking cup made of an odd, clear material that looks a bit like glass but definitely isn't. There's a lid with a small spout on it, and a handle on either side. It has funny little shapes stamped on it in bright colors. Ma makes sure Kal can hold the handles, then puts the cup and a couple more like it in the cart with him. 

Kal chirps in bright approval and pats at the cups, then returns his attention to petting and cuddling the soft dog in his arms, purring happily to himself. Kara croons back to him in acknowledgment. Ma looks briefly puzzled, for some reason, but goes back to carefully picking out packages of little cloths. 

Pa comes back with a cart of his own stocked with cans and jars and packages of food, and Ma says something approving-sounding to him and then points towards the other side of the store. He says something back with a nod, then heads off again. It still makes Kara nervous when he leaves, but it's . . . it's fine, she tells herself. Pa keeps coming back. So it's fine. 

She still isn't sure when Kal is going to start missing Aunt Lara and Uncle Jor. He's an independent baby, and usually confident in new situations, but he's still a baby. And they're still his parents. And . . . and . . . 

She wants hers so badly, but she's the one who knows they'll never be seeing their family again. 

Kal . . . doesn't know that yet. 

It might be a long, long time before Kal knows that. 

She can't decide what's worse; the idea of him crying and crying for them, or the idea of him finally deciding that they've abandoned him and then not crying for them ever again. 

Kal’s still just a baby, after all. He won't understand why Aunt Lara and Uncle Jor won't come when he cries for them. Won't understand why they'd leave him. Won't understand . . . 

He won't even remember them. Or her parents, or Krypto, or even Krypton itself. He won't remember a single thing about any of it or any of them or . . . or . . . 

Kara swallows. Steels herself. 

Doesn't cry. 

Ma puts a few more packages in the cart. Kal baps his dog against them, then hugs it again. 

"Is that Krypto's puppy, Kal?" Kara asks him as lightly as she can, trying to sound anything less than brokenhearted, and Ma glances over at her. She looks concerned, but maybe Kara's reading her wrong. The people of this planet all seem to be unusually expressive, but that doesn't mean their expressions mean the same things that Kryptonian ones do. 

Kal squeals happily and hugs his dog again, burying his face against its soft synthetic fur for a moment before beaming up at Kara. She shouldn't have mentioned Krypto to him, maybe–shouldn't have reminded him of him–but . . . 

Well. She's going to make worse mistakes than that, she knows. She has to take care of him now. Has to make sure he's safe above all else, and then as healthy and happy as she can make him. Has to do right by him, and not let down their family. 

She's here to take care of him. Here to protect him. Here to make sure he grows up and lives a good life and–and just lives. 

No matter what. 

Kal trills for attention, and Ma looks down at him curiously. She says something. The aliens' voices have an odd flatness to them, compared to the rich resonance of Kryptonian voices, but Ma and Pa both still just sound so kind. 

Kara doesn't understand why they're being so kind. 

They really don't have to be so kind. 

Pa comes back again, a few more little boxes and bottles in his cart. Kara doesn't know what any of them are, though they don't look like food this time. The decorations on the boxes are mostly abstract and aren't proving helpful. 

Ma says something to her and pats her arm. Kara tries to smile at her. She and Pa are being very kind, so Kara should smile at her. 

It's just . . . getting harder and harder to smile. 

If she weren't making herself do it now, though, she'd never do it again. 

Maybe she wouldn't ever do it again, if she were a better daughter. A better Kryptonian. But Kal should see her smiling, if nothing else, so–so. 

So she's smiling. 

They're refugees from an apocalypse, from a world-ending tragedy, from a kind of grief that only the tiniest, tiniest fraction of people could ever feel, and Kal won't even remember what they've lost. 

So yes. He should see her smiling. 

Ma and Pa pay with paper money again, and the shop clerk talks to them. They respond with pleasant smiles to–her? Kara thinks the clerk is a woman. So was the clerk at the first store, come to think, so she wonders if that's a coincidence or just the cultural standard on this planet. Or if she's just still confused about this species' sexual characteristics, maybe. 

For all she knows their species has dozens of sexes and genders and she's just oblivious to whatever way they display or communicate them, of course. Krypton is–was–very insular and isolated, and its people almost never traveled or traded or even communicated between planets, so she doesn't know much about aliens. 

More of Krypton probably would've survived, if they'd ever done that. 

Ok now this is an interesting premise, because,

1- Since All Might knew that he wouldn't be able to use OfA after the entrance exam, he would have to announce his own retirement beforehand. Which means the world is in chaos as Izuku just goes to the exam, some people probably drop out at the last minute, some people hope UA has answers, but Izuku's just straight vibing.

2- a now retried Yagi gets a job at UA teaching physics, powerless, and offers izuku advice as he watches hero class training with Nedzu's permission. 1A does not have a battle trial the first week. Izuku is still breaking bones. The kids are all wondering about All Might's retirement and if it's legit, and Izuku clumsily avoids the conversation with it comes up. (Which is often.)

3- There's no attack on USJ, because there's no word of All Might working on campus. Which is good, because izuku totally would have died if there had been. Instead, people whisper about All Might not having been seen since the retirement announcement, how it makes no sense there isn't even media or what he's doing now, no explanation of why he abandoned them. By the SF, people think he's just dead, actually, and it's a coverup that he retired instead.

4- Izuku's class lineup looks different- Inasa is there, Shoto isn't, because after the announcement and his father's promotion, there wasn't a need for Shoto to continue, and he didn't want to keep boosting his father's ego or be forced into the same path, so he just didn't go to UA. Plus, Mineta, Jiro, and Kouda didn't bother going to the exam at all. 1B probably looks different too.

Aww shucks!! I'm glad to hear that!! :D

lol it'd be pretty difficult, tbh. The only way you can likely figure it out is if you break the illusion...

Thank you, I’m so glad you liked it! (And I was actually trying to come up with a name for it but ‘lonely ghost au’ fits pretty well so thank you for that as well haha). Yes, Sayuri is definitely intensely protective of all three Kurosaki kids-- and to her utter bemusement, they appear to be just as protective of her (which she still doesn’t get. If an opponent is strong enough that even she can’t defeat them, what the hell are two 6 year-olds and a 10 year-old gonna do?). 

She does believe in preparing them for the world though, which includes telling them everything they need to know about the shinigami (and after what happened with Grand Fisher, Masaki is inclined to agree. And Masaki’s agreement = Isshin’s agreement, so that’s that.) However, unlike the other adults in Bleach, her version of ‘preparing someone for the world’ doesn’t involve throwing them off the deep end and hoping they survive. All three Kurosaki kids know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she has their back and will step in if they can’t handle something. Sure, she may bring back the occasional hollow for them to practice on-- but she’s always there watching, a constant silent presence, ready to intervene if necessary. 

Commission made for @kamkong