It should have been so simple, taking the train.
It should have –
I should have –
Toshinori remembered sitting two seats from an exasperated young mother and her young son, probably five years old, who kept lightly clapping his hands together while his mother admonished him to stop.
He remembered feeling an odd sense of security in his oversized hoodie, his appearance and identity hidden from the rest of the world by such a simple piece of clothing. It was made of fleece, a cheap item if anything but something the Midoriyas insisted he accept from them; therefore its value far exceeded whatever had been on the price tag.
He remembered allowing himself to relax as he hunched in his seat, eyes shut as he reveled in the rare peace that came from simply being an ordinary person on an ordinary train, taking an ordinary trip through the city.
He remembered the sudden lurch, the sound of metal squealing under strain, the crack of skull striking floor as the train car became a tumbling prison filled with helpless, panicking people.
Now he tasted blood and couldn't remember what peace was even supposed to mean anymore.
"Don't fight back," a booming, gravelly voice commanded, "and no one gets hurt. Got it?"
"Mamma, is he dead?" a small, scared voice asked faintly.
Toshinori remembered what he might have done a month ago, before he ceased to be the Symbol of Peace as the world knew him.
His head hurt. His heart hurt. It hurt, it ached, it stung to be like this, to be this useless. To be reminded of what powerlessness truly felt like. His hands curled into fists as he forced himself to breathe, breathe in, breath out, a wet wheeze escaping him as he struggled to get up from his prone position.
He still wore bandages for the wounds sustained in the fight with All For One. He still felt utterly exhausted from that struggle. And yet he forced himself to keep going, to keep moving, to reject the idea of simply laying down in self-pity.
What he hated the most was feeling so small. It wasn't a matter of pride. No...
… it was the fact that he couldn't protect the people around him like this.
That was what Toshinori Yagi hated with every fiber of his being.
Is this what villains speak of when they glorify the purity of their hatred? He wondered as he sat up, spitting out a mouthful of blood. Is this that elusive drive, sustaining me now?
Everything was blurry. The train car was on its side; Toshinori realized he was on top of broken glass that had used to be windows. The other passengers seemed to be more or less okay despite visible cuts and bruises. An elderly woman was crying quietly into her hands. The mother was curled protectively around her child, who clung to her in fright. The others seemed to be shrinking together into the far corner of the car, and when Toshinori saw what they were afraid of he felt the mess that had once been his stomach twist.
He recognized this one. Reptilian skin, four well-muscled arms, teeth like rows of small daggers. The thug who called himself Carnosaur back when All Might had stopped his criminal rampage with a well-earned Texas Smash. That thug now leered down at his prisoners from the door that was now up.
Toshinori remembered how easily Carnosaur had torn a grown man's arm from his body and felt genuine nausea grip him.
I should have known this would happen.
"Your money," Carnosaur bellowed. "Your valuables. All of it. Or I rip you to pieces, starting with the brat."
He pointed a scaled finger at the small boy, whose mother curled herself around him even tighter despite her own visible terror.
Toshinori could hear screams coming from the other cars, other harsh voices barking commands, and realized Carnosaur had at least five friends working together on this robbery.
Please let me come with you, Sensei! Izuku had begged, but his mentor had told him to stay.
There were some mentors who might regret such a thing, who might wish their highly-capable pupil were present to do what a crippled ex-hero could not.
Toshinori was not such a mentor. The only thing conceivably worse than being unable to protect these people... would be the inability to protect Izuku. Or Bakugou. Or any of the students.
They had promise. They had potential. They had already been tested against villains. But it hurt Toshinori that their childhoods were already being eaten away.
I should be facing this ugliness for them with a smile, inspiring them! Protecting them! Saving them!
I would give up everything, all the fame, all the glory, just to be able to save them...!
He realized he was shaking and steeled himself. The embers of One For All flared for just a moment, a fraction of a second, and Toshinori felt the tiniest of sparks ignite.
It was enough. He stood. Despite broken ribs and a shoulder that didn't fit in its socket quite right, he stood.
"Hey, isn't that...?" one of the passengers breathed as Toshinori's hood fell back.
"Aha... Ahahahahaaaa... AHAHAHA!" Carnosaur roared with laughter. He nearly lost his grip on the doorway and scrabbled for a better hold so he wouldn't fall in. "Fuck me sideways, it's the big deal himself... not so big now, huh? Are ya, All Might?!"
It wasn't shame that burned in Toshinori's gaunt cheeks. It was anger. He tensed, felt the muscles in his arms contract and harden... but that was all. He didn't transform. His clothes remained baggy and draped over this emaciated form.
"That's All Might?" another passenger asked, incredulous.
"Yeah, didn't you see on the news...?"
THUD.
Everyone screamed as Carnosaur dropped into the train car, his beady little eyes trained on Toshinori hungrily.
"I wonder," the villain purred, grinning horribly, "how much the League will pay for you... or rather... how many pieces I'll have to leave mostly intact..."
Toshinori knew he should keep his gaze fixed on the enemy. But he couldn't help glancing over at the others. They were shocked and scared, a couple even looked disgusted... but the boy, all fear had melted away and in its place was a look of complete awe.
It was the same look that had been on Izuku's face the day Toshinori met him.
Happiness. Hope. Trust.
Save me, those eyes had begged as they shone, despite Izuku's enthusiasm.
"It's all right," the boy chirped, seemingly oblivious to the reptilian maniac between himself and Toshinori. "Why? Because All Might is here!"
"Tamaki..." the boy's mother said faintly, her eyes brimming with tears.
She knew. She understood. The look of resignation said it all.
Toshinori raised his arms. Assumed a fighting stance. It was all muscle memory. So easy, so natural.
If I can just cause a ruckus... no, a distraction... if I can just hold out until backup comes... if I can just save these people, it doesn't matter... what happens to me...
"I'm sorry," he said aloud.
It wasn't an apology to these people. It was to Izuku.
I promised to shepherd and guide you, and here I am breaking that promise.
"H-hey..."
One of the passengers, a man in his thirties, stumbled out of the huddled group and flexed his arms. Enormous spikes erupted from his skin, perforating his business attire. "Y-you leave All Might alone," the civilian stammered, obviously less bravely than intended... but to Toshinori, it was a display of pure courage.
"You going to get in the way, salaryman?" Carnosaur hissed.
"No," the elderly woman who had been sobbing announced in a reedy, wavering voice, shuffling forward as flames erupted from her forearms. "I am!"
"Me too," a heavyset punk affirmed, then her corporeal form vanished and she shimmered as a cloud of vapor.
Another Quirk. And another. Soon everyone in the car except the mother and child – and Toshinori – had their Quirks on display.
"Don't interfere," he had to insist. "Don't throw your lives away."
"Listen to the has-been," Carnosaur growled, looking much less confident than before faced with so many Quirks. "Or I'll make him watch while I rip out your guts."
The salaryman took a step forward. Carnosaur snarled.
Toshinori acted.
Hoping, praying, begging, pleading that the last vestige of One For All would be enough, just for an instant... just like when he briefly changed his appearance at the Midoriyas'... if I can just land one hit, one hit...!
Thwack.
It was, perhaps, the most ineffectual punch Toshinori Yagi had ever landed on another person. It barely qualified as a robust slap. His knuckles scraped against Carnosaur's rough hide. His entire body hurt from the impact.
One For All had failed.
I've failed...
"I've been waiting for this day," Carnosaur said with giddy glee, saliva dripping from his toothy maw, "for so, so long."
And then he brought his own fist up to hit Toshinori in the gut, right in the site of his worst old wounds.
Blood. A familiar taste, followed by vomit. Toshinori staggered, reeling as he doubled over, only for a scaly knee to come up and strike his jaw. His head snapped back. Stars swam in his field of vision and he barely saw the next punch coming before it struck his left cheek. The hit threw him backward and he tripped over a seat, falling into a heap.
"You gave it as good as you got on the news," Carnosaur snickered, moving in for the kill, "but you're all out of steam now, aren't you All Might? Or should I say... No Might At All."
He's right... there's no fight left in me now... I'm done...
Midoriya, my boy... Izuku... I'm so sorry...
I'm... finished...
"YOU LEAVE ALL MIGHT ALOOOOONE!"
What followed the shrill declaration of Tamaki's rage was something even Toshinori could not have anticipated.
The boy slammed the palms of his hands together. A clap. What could only be described as a shockwave resonated from that clap. It ripped open the train car and blew Carnosaur out, sent glass and metal and everything else flying.
The salaryman wasted no time. He bounded up, leaped out of the torn-open train car and flung spikes that were six inches long. The vapor-punk swirled around the elderly pyro, lifted her up, and just as Carnosaur pulled a spike out of the side of his neck, he was met with streams of flame.
Toshinori didn't enjoy the sound of a villain burning to death, but he couldn't argue with the results. The other villains could see this, were bellowing and raging in response... but then the cry went up, "Here come the pros!"
And then cheers went up from all of the other passengers as their heroes came to the rescue. Toshinori couldn't see who had shown up. He could barely see what was a meter in front of him. Everything was out of focus, far away...
I can... rest now...
"All Might?"
It was Tamaki. Tamaki, the five-year-old wonder with the clap that could peel apart a train car as if it was a soft drink can. He was crawling toward Toshinori on his hands and knees, and as his jacket shifted Toshinori saw that he was wearing an All Might shirt.
His eyes stung. His throat tightened.
"I saw you on the news," Tamaki explained eagerly. He didn't seem to care that his idol was but a shadow of his former self, didn't even seem to see the skeletal physique or the uncharacteristic multitude of wounds. "You were so cool! I've always wanted to meet you."
"Tamaki!" The boy's mother grabbed him, pulled him away – not out of fear, but out of concern for Toshinori. "Don't pester him now, he's hurt..."
"You're the best!" Tamaki crowed despite his mother's best efforts to shut him up. "And it's okay if you can't fight anymore! We'll all fight for you!"
All of you... fight... for me?
"All for one and one for all!" Tamaki chanted in a singsong voice. "All for one, and one for all!"
"Tamaki, sssshhhhh!"
But I'm the... Symbol of Peace... without me, who... who will...
When he regained consciousness several minutes later, he realized he was being carried out of the train car. Not by paramedics, but by the salaryman and the other passengers. They didn't care that his blood was getting on their nice clothes or that he now stunk of vomit. They moved with purpose, with resolve. The elderly pyro held his hand, her skin surprisingly soft and cool for a fire-wielder. "Now sonny," she cooed, "don't go straining yourself, you hear? You'll get yourself killed like that."
But I'm... I have to...
"It's okay, All Might." The punk smiled at him, brushing unruly purple-streaked hair out of her eyes with her fingertips, now corporeal again. "We've got this."
"I LOVE YOU, ALL MIGHT!" Tamaki shouted from nearby, followed by the most forceful SSSSHHHH yet.
They love me? Like this?
He remembered the uproar after his true form was revealed to the world, the disappointment... the vague sense of betrayal from the public, as if they couldn't bear to acknowledge their Number One hero was really just a sickly man with one hell of a poker face.
He remembered the crushing sensation of an invisible weight on his bony shoulders... all the burdens of the world, the responsibility of the Symbol of Peace, resting on someone no longer strong enough to support it all...
All the hype, all the media coverage, all the smiling and the pretending and the denying... it was too much. Here was the truth, here in the battered form of Toshinori Yagi, who could no longer even manage a single punch with One For All. Toshinori Yagi... now Quirkless.
And yet...
And yet these people... they were smiling... for him...
They were willing to fight... for him...
A Symbol of Peace...
He smiled back.
It hurt like hell but he smiled anyway, and for a moment he forgot what it was to be afraid.
This is the world I fought to protect... to save... these people...
… they are the ones... who will save the world.
"It's all right," he rasped, "because you are all here."