Guys, my tumblr name changed. It's now melancholic-lotus13 like my username on here. If you guys want to, please send in Fanart. I really want to see what people see in this story. Please, I really want to see what your works.
Bakugou scowls when the guys make fun of his hair that the Best Jeanist "fixed". He shouts at them and the fierce anger causes it to stand—to go back the way it was. That sends his shitty classmates into another round of hysterics. He growls and turns his attention to the shitty nerd who's wearing those stupid sunglasses of his again, smiling brightly at his shitty friends. Just who the hell does that nerd think he is? Bakugou knows that there's something else about him. He knows of the shitty nerd's strange hobby of reading old murder cases and the idiotic ramblings of death. He's just a psychopath. He's lying and manipulating them. No way he will become a hero. Psychos aren't heroes. Once they find out that he really is a psycho and that I'm not lying, they'll turn their backs.
His eyes are drawn to the nerd's left side. It takes him a second to realize that he's holding it with a tight grasp—his jaw is clenched as he speaks with the half-and-half bastard and shitty four eyes. Since when did the two idiots hang around with that bastard? He scowls deeply as he stares at the trio. The two of them show concern for the shitty nerd, glancing at his side and asking him something yet Katsuki knows it's if he is fine. Tch, shitty Deku wouldn't ever tell anyone he's hurt in his life. Yet, what the hell happened to him?
"To your seats everyone," drawls Aizawa-sensei as he strides into the classroom with a bored gaze. His usual demeanor is there but it holds an undertone that the explosive quirk user can't place a finger on. The shuffling of clothing is the only sound in the now quiet classroom.
Bakugou scowls and makes his way to his desk, roughly bumping into Izuku's side. He ignores the hitching of his breath as he take a seat, glaring at the surface of the desk. He misses the glares that are directed his way from two of the guys. Aizawa had watched the interaction with a faint shake his head, not understanding what the heck is up with Midoriya and not telling people needed information about himself. If anything, Shouta can see that Bakugou really isn't in the mood and Midoriya gracing him with his presence, it doesn't seem to help the issue.
Shouta sighs and starts up his lesson about the law and about the consequences about acting and using their quirks without a license or without permission. He is mad, impressed, and worried. His eyes cut throughout the class, lingering on three troublemakers. "If I hear that one of you try something like this, I'm expelling you. I do not care of what the scenario is, leave it to the pros."
Midoriya just turns his head away to look out the window, his hand ghosting over his side. Todoroki's gaze falls onto his desk. Iida stares at his hands, not feeling ashamed or even guilty. The three of them thinking along the lines, I will break my bones as long as it is me who gets hurt. No matter what, I will protect whoever I can even if it gets as far as to break the law. I apologize Aizawa-sensei, but if it's a must, expel me in the future.
All Might decides to take the class to the training grounds. He quickly explains the situation, a group will be sent to the farthest side of the course and whoever gets to the center—the base—first, well there isn't anything in rewards. He just want to see how much they've progressed in the week of their internships. He can't wait to see how Young Midoriya is faring with One For All. He seemed to be really happy with Gran Torino—seriously how is that kid not afraid of him? His sunken eyes scan the group, they're all heroes in the making—they will become the greatest heroes of their generation. He can already see it. His gaze lingers on Young Midoriya and he sees how he favors his left side a bit—making sure that no one touches it or gets near it—and that jogs Yagi's memory on what had happened. The surgery that his successor had undergone the week prior. His hand ghosts his own side where the wound lays—hoping his successor does not ever get something as terrible as this. It may be good for him to rest and not push himself to do this if it is still fresh. No, Young Midoriya should not do that. He needs to heal. "Young Midoriya, you do not have to do this exercise if you are not up to it. It is okay for you to not participate in this."
Izuku blushes red at being called out, shuffling and dropping his gaze to his feet and avoiding the gazes of his friends and classmates. "I'm fine. I can do a simple training routine. After all, Gran Torino didn't really hold back with his routines, so I don't want you to do it. I can do this." He's determined and he isn't holding back on it. He wants to show them that he is okay. That he can do this. His injury is healing faster than the average human after all. Not as fast as he wants it to be, but fast enough that it takes a few weeks off his recovery time. 5%. I'll use up to 5% and I'll be fine. I don't want to show them all just yet. I understand why he is so hesitant. He hasn't told me—no, he hasn't but I can see it.
All Might hesitates. Should he really allow him to do this? Sighing, he nods, not missing the looks his protégé is receiving from the two boys: Young Iida and Young Todoroki. They both share his concern while others aren't too sure of what is going on. So he didn't tell them? It's expected. This is Midoriya after all. When does he ever tell anyone anything? He sighs and puts Midoriya in the first group so he can get it over and done with. Once they're at the starting line, Toshinori releases a small breath before telling them to go.
They all watch in fascination as green-like lightning crackles all over Midoriya's body before he zooms past everyone—especially Sero who was in the lead. The field is perfect for Sero—who can maneuver around using his tape—and for Midoriya—who had trained in a cramp space for the majority of his week. This gave him the room to use One For All. Upon getting close, his body turns in a wrong way a bit which sends a painful surge through his left side and he slips. He mutters a curse under his breath before using his scythe to cling onto the side of the building. In that loss of time, Sero passed him. He sighs as he climbs up and lies down. His hand on his side with his jaw clenched behind his mask. "Young Midoriya, are you okay?" A thumbs up. "Please, do be careful and try not to die the next time. Aizawa will have my head if one of his students dies under my watch after he tried so hard to save you a while back."
Iida squats beside him and asks if he is okay. He saw the way he twisted his body by accident and knew what happened to cause him to slip. "I'm fine. Thanks for checking. I just stretched it a bit, but otherwise I'm fine. If you don't believe me, I'll go to Recovery Girl." Iida backs off on that request since the guy usually is adamant on going to the nurse. He sends looks towards him before going to the starting line.
After training, Izuku looks at All Might with a concentrated gaze. He tilts his head with a small sigh. "You have something to say to me, don't you?"
He jumps, forgetting how observant he is. He must've picked up on the way he made sure not to make eye contact with the boy. Yes, he does need to explain things to him and he knows that he's put it off for too long; he just doesn't know where to even start exactly. He sighs and rubs his face, turning away from Izuku to look at the class. "Yes, but after class. This is about the origin of your quirk."
Midoriya looks at him for a second before nodding and heading over to the others. He smiles at them as he watches the others try to get past each other. Yagi watches the interaction between his successor and his classmates. The moment he saw him this morning, Yagi had to force himself to gather up his courage to not procrastinate this explanation, and yet he did until the kid asked him. Now, he cannot put this off any longer. He has to know. He has to understand.
It's not going to be easy. No, speaking of this won't be easy. Not for him. Never for him. His mentor, the subject is touchy. He cannot do it, he cannot speak about her; Izuku needs to know. He needs to know the full story.
Izuku will know.
Everything will be fine.
Izuku will understand.
Everything will be fine.
Izuku will . . .
Izuku is staring at his mentor who is silent. He can read him like an open book. He can see in his posture—his body language. He can tell that he is uncomfortable. Whatever he wants to say, he can't say it without being sad, without feeling uncomfortable. He holds a weight on his shoulders; a weight that he does not want to share. Not to Izuku. Midoriya says nothing. He waits for his mentor and idol to speak. They sit there, staring at each other for five minutes. The air holds tension so thick it can't be cut by a knife without bending it. If this conversation does happen, it won't end pretty—at least, that's Izuku's train of thinking. With the way his mentor fidgets, it's almost as if he's being held at gunpoint and being forced to tell him. "Yagi-san, if you're uncomfortable, I understand. You don't have to tell me. Not until you are ready to speak."
"Young Midoriya," he says. He feels relieved but he cannot turn away. He has to tell him. No more hiding. "You are quite remarkable but no, this is important. I must tell you. You cannot continue to wander in the dark—this power, our quirk, it holds a history that is needed to be shared with you." A pause and a small intake of breath. Steeling himself, he speaks, "The origin of One For All dates back to the beginning where quirks first appeared. There was a man whose quirk allowed the user to steal other quirks. This man is known as All For One." He goes on, speaking about All For One's supposed quirkless, younger brother who in reality has a stockpiling quirk that can be transferred. Thus, the birth of One For All. He falters for a little bit. "My mentor, Nana Shimura—" his voice cracks a little bit when he says her name. "—she was killed by All For One, leaving it to be my fight. I had hoped that my successor would never have to meet or even fight All For One. At the end of the fight, I had hoped that it was over. I had hoped that everything was done and over, but that does not seem to be the case. This fight with One For All will be yours now. I wish it was to be different but it is not."
Izuku stays silent for a moment. "That is not it, is it? There is something else. Something that has to deal with the fact you can't uphold your All Might form for longer than two and a half hours and the whole coughing up blood thing."
The solemn look he receives pulls at his heart. He knows. He should've known. He watches Toshinori's hand move to his left side. He guessed right. "During that fight, I suffered an injury. It's irreparable. I've had surgeries upon surgeries but no avail. I know I should've told you from the beginning, but I just never found a way to do so." He sighs, lifting his shirt up to show the twisted flesh that form a terrifying and ugly scar. Toshinori notices the look. In that moment, he understands the look. He knows. How has he known? How did he find out? Did Tsukauchi tell him? No, he wouldn't have. So how?
He sighs, deciding to be blunt. The subject relates to death and with these subjects, he will be blunt. "I've known since the day we've met, All Might." He ignores the look of surprise as he continues, "The moment you grabbed me to tear my attention away from the corpse, I caught a glimpse. I could feel your dull energy fighting to brighten again—to stay bright. I could see the veil of death hangs around you. With each passing month, it gets thicker and more prominent. When you pulled me away from it, I caught a glimpse of something, something horrible."
"Young Midoriya?" he whispers, face contorting to something akin to fear. "What are you talking about?"
A sad smile crosses his lips, his eyes behind the tinted lenses flicker between green and purple. In a mixture of the two voices, he says, "Your death."
"Young Midoriya, that—you shouldn't say something like that."
"I know you're going to die. I've known for sometime now. I've seen it. I've watched it happen, over and over again. Every time you lay a hand on my bare skin, your dead form fills my vision." He pushes his hair back, taking a small breath. "Of course, you're not the first. I've seen people die before they do. That's how I found out what Iida was going to do." He sighs again. "That's not all I can do. Gosh, this isn't the best way to have told you. But no. I shouldn't have and yet I did. That is why I have to tell you."
"My boy, you're scaring me," he interrupts with a slight tremor in his voice. He shouldn't have what? What is he talking about? He can see people's deaths? That's absurd. He told me he was quirkless.
He removes his sunglasses, letting his green irises stare into his glowing blue eyes. Slowly, they shift into purple. That causes All Might to lean back for a second watching as they fade back to their natural color. "Death is scary. I know. Gosh, I'm sounding like a complete psychopath. I should've told you from the start and we wouldn't be having this conversation right now." He sighs forlornly, licking his lips. His eyes glitter with unshed tears as his bottom lip starts to quiver. He's vehemently whispering now, "I shouldn't have gotten attached. Gosh, I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I should've told you. I'm quirkless kid who wants to be somewhat normal and finally gets a quirk. I just never said that that I'm cursed. My eyes to be exact. I can see the Grim Reaper, I cannot die, and most of all . . . I see dead people."
"This is not funny. You shouldn't say things like that." Toshinori feels fear creep into his heart as he watches tears slowly leave tracks on Izuku's face. "You shouldn't say any of that. I do not even understand what you are talking about."
"I'm sorry, Yagi-san. I really am sorry." He sniffles. His mind displaying everything. He stares at the ground. "It's horrendous. Your screams, they keep me up at night. The blood. Too much blood. Laughter?"
"Midoriya, stop."
He keeps going. "I shouldn't have gotten attached. It's getting closer. You're going to die soon. I can hear your screams now. You're going to die." He rubs his head, stopping for a second. He meets his gaze again. "I can see when someone dies. It's a curse. I see someone's—"
"Izuku, that is enough!" Yagi cuts him off. He rarely yells. Seldom people have ever heard him yell. He hasn't yelled much, and especially not at Izuku. This—no, he can't take his mutterings. This is not funny. He's angry. He's angry that Izuku would say things like that. He's angry that he would say horrendous things like that. "That's enough. I don't want to hear any of it!" I don't want to hear your tortured mutterings. I don't want to hear about my death.
Izuku stares at him. Horror displayed alongside remorse. He knows that he should not have said any of that. "Ya-Yagi-san, I'm sorry," he whispers. "I shouldn't have said any of it. I shouldn't have told you." He pushes his hair back. "I should go. I apologize for the nonsense I just said. I was out of line. It's true though," he murmurs.
"Just go, Midoriya." He ignores the flinch that followed. He ignores the muttering of apologies as he makes his way to the door. He ignores the lingering look of remorse. He ignores it all. Your screams, they keep me up at night. You're going to die. The words play in his head. I've seen it. Every time you lay a hand on my bare skin, your death flashes across my vision. Toshinori tried to stand, but his body is against him. He falls back onto the couch and places his hands over his face, his shoulders shaking. They keep me up. They keep me up. Toshinori softly cries. He doesn't know why he cries, but he cries. He sits on the couch he just softly cries into his palms as Izuku's words replay like a broken record. He doesn't know why, but he doesn't care. The burden that weighs on him is heavier than ever. He remembers the look on Izuku's face when he broke out of the nonsense muttering. He's horrified with what he said, as if he wasn't meaning to let it slip that he saw him die. He's guilty for having even said any of that to him, hurting him. Yagi coughs into his hands, feeling the blood hit the skin. The blood. Too much blood. He shakes his head. He forces himself to forget it. All Might can't think of that. He has to think about other things. If he dies, then he dies. Simple. He has to forget those eyes—paler than when he first met the owner of the pair, changing colors—that hold no emotion as the owner speaks. To forget them boring into him, staring deep into his soul. He has to forget. He can't let what his successor hinder his cognitive ability or the way he acts around people. A hero has to smile. He will smile and ignore the fear that has dug into his heart. I can see someone's premature death. I can see the Grim Reaper, I cannot die, and most of all . . . I see dead people.
Izuku is making his way to class. He makes his way there as fast as he can. He wiped his face on his sleeve to rid it of the dreadful tears that had escaped and stained his skin. He walks in, gripping his wrists tightly, and sits down. His side is screaming at him from the rapid movement. He can't forget the look on his mentor's face. The look of pure anger, complete disgust, and horror all displayed on his face and in his eyes. He is horrified with himself for having revealed such a thing to his mentor. He hates himself for having let his self control break and let his mouth run free. He wouldn't put it past Toshi—no—All Might if the hero hates him and wants nothing to do with him. No, he wouldn't put it past him. It's okay if he hates him. He hates himself too. He went out of line. He takes a small, deep breath to calm himself down. Leave him alone. When he wants to speak with me, then speak. Until then, don't—I may make it worse. Hopefully, it is no time soon. Maybe I can start severing any feelings. I shouldn't have gotten attached. Now, I have to figure out how to rid myself of these feelings. A small tear runs down his cheek but he wipes it away. I'm sorry, Yagi. I just don't know what came over me. Gosh, I sound like I'm victimizing myself. Really, the argument happened because of me—I basically provoked it. Yagi's the victim in the argument, not me. I was way out of line.
So what came over him? I'll tell you. It was Death, Death didn't want him to say anything to Toshinori. Oh, well. Poor Izuku, I put him through too much hell. This is the only thing I could come up with.