Shouto Todoroki was meditating.

It was in the dojo at their mansion. They would sell it soon, and buy themselves a smaller home. Big enough for all of them, still, but not so big that it would be oppressive.

Not filled with terrible memories that still haunted these hallways.

"Dinner's ready in ten," a voice called out. Shouto frowned, opening his eyes to look upwards. Touya stood there at the railing. The scars which he had received over the years were almost all gone, whatever gave him his quirk back had seen to erasing them as well. But his hair had been dyed black once again.. "You look like you want to say something to me."

"I don't know if I want to be a hero anymore," Shouto said. It felt strange, saying it to someone who was essentially a stranger at this point. Or perhaps that is why it was so easy. "I'm considering switching over to the general studies department."

"Heavy stuff," Touya said. He hopped over the railing and down onto the mats, bending his knees in landing. "So you're not gonna be there for dinner? Mom's gonna be sad."

Shouto stood up, rubbing his nose. "I get it, you don't really care. I'll just talk to Fuyumi after dinner."

"To be honest with you, yeah, I don't care," Touya said, nodding. "But I'm the last person whose opinion you should care about. If you really want it, I'd say it's a waste. You're strong and your problems aren't as… severe as mine."

"I envy you," Shouto admitted. "You're at peace with who you are. Even when you broke out of the hospital, you just went back to what you were doing."

"I'm a piece of shit," Touya said, frowning. "Even if it wasn't for the old man, Spitfire made a pretty good point when she punched my face in once. We are who we choose to be, not who they make us. I chose to be a villain, you chose to become a hero."

"To spite him."

"Is your ego this fragile?" Touya raised an eyebrow. Half burnt and barely moving. "Is your reason for becoming a hero more important than the people you save?"

"And he didn't have good reasons either?" Shouto asked, his voice rising. "He became a hero from the start just to be the very best?"

"Knowing him? Probably," Touya said, shrugging. "If you want to believe he became a hero out of more altruistic reasons, feel free. We won't know what the fuck is going on in his mind because there's no way he'll show his face here again."

Shouto punched forward with a fist encased in ice. Touya spun on his heel and redirected the attack with a motion that Shouto had seen before. Grabbing his arm and using his momentum against him, Dabi threw him onto the ground, bouncing him off the mats.

"You learned that from her, didn't you?" Shouto asked, coughing. Touya scoffed.

"I taught it to her, you idiot. Look, you want spite to be your motivator, that's fine," Touya said, glaring down at him. "Become the hero he couldn't be. Don't become the number one, don't even aim for any top spot. Become a hero who looks out for the people, and for his family. Become a better person than he ever was."

"I don't know if I can," Shouto said, raising a hand to the ceiling and staring at it. "Every time I feel this fire on my skin, It feels like his hand is reaching out."

"Well shit, bro," Touya said, grabbing his hand and pulling him back up. "There's therapy for that."

He could see it. The crowd stretched so far that he could see them sink into the horizon. When he stepped onto the stage, it was not ripples but waves that shook the sea of humanity before him. Arms raised up, loud cheers, cries of people thankful for a day in their lives that he had saved them.

If only he could say that he still remembered each and every smile.

"Thank you," All Might said. The crowd was still cheering, but his own voice, together with the powerful speakers, let him continue without issue. "Thank you."

Judgement day.

There was no other way to begin this than the truth.

"I… am retiring," All Might said, bowing his head. The crowd went still, like someone had plucked thousands of souls out of their bodies. He could not stop here, though the letters on the paper in front of him were getting blurry as he opened his mouth again. "The last battle I have fought has shown me just how far I have pushed myself."

It was with Sir Nighteye's help that he had set this all up, of course. In the end, this needed to be done right. And if it was done right, he would teach them how to say goodbye.

"More than that, I have come to realize just how much the meaning of heroics had changed over the years," All Might continued to the now deadly silent crowd. "In our aspiration to have something to look up to, we ignored the mistakes of those who kept us safe. It is not just Endeavor, who had taken his ambitions too far, but also me, who had protected a society that could not extend its merciful hand towards those very children who were hurting the most."

The crowd chattered. The direction of the speech was already clear.

"As I have said not too long ago, when I defended the rehabilitation Izuko Midoriya," All Might said. "If a perfect society punishes people who do not conform with the same severity as mass murderers and rapists, then that society is no longer perfect. And it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy."

He pointed at the screen behind him. An image was displayed, large, revealing four faces.

Izuko Midoriya, not with a mugshot but forfeiting her battle at the Sports Festival with empty eyes.

Tenko Shimura, an image from his childhood, smiling with his family.

Himiko Toga, an old selfie she took with her friends before she lost control.

Touya Todoroki, in the hospital bed holding the hands of his mother.

"It is not simply that my body has been brought to its limits, but my heart which yearns for the day when we can treat children as children, and extend then the courtesy to make mistakes without condeming them forever."

The image changed. The All Might Agency logo had been replaced by the image of him extending his hand outwards.

"For that purpose," All MIght continued. "I have used all the funds from my years of work to create an organization for rehabilitation of juveniles, not just for those who are under the age of majority, but those who have fallen onto hard times up until the age of twenty-five."

Silence.

Silence and more damned silence.

All Might looked up, staring forward, finding himself reflected in the eyes of thousands of listeners.

He smiled his trademark smile.

"Even if the world becomes your enemy, and nobody believes you," All Might said, pushing his thumb into his chest. "I am here."

She wasn't sure how long they were here on the rooftop. It was after school, Mirko and Hawks were busy, and All Might was busier still. They were left alone for the first time in a long time.

The music playing from Kyoka's phone was the same song that they'd danced to in the bar back on their first date. Izuko felt like she had come a long way to get where she was now. She felt not quite as vulnerable anymore, not quite as needy.

"Ah," Kyoka said, standing up and turning around, giving a small mock bow. "May I have this dance."

Izuko still didn't like slow songs.

But just this once, she would make an exception.

An exception she would no doubt make again and again, just this once, just for that moment, just for the first person who had truly reached out to her, not as a scared child to be molded, or as a scarred criminal to be redeemed, but as an equal.

Izuko laughed. It was a loud, melodious laugh, increasing in pitch as Kyoka pulled her up and twirled her around.

They danced up and down the top of the roof, ignoring the clouds that were gathering above them and raining down on their parade.

She was happy.

And there was nothing else she could ask for.

AN: A post-mortem, dedicated to my friends Argentorum, Blue Nine, Magery and Dumbo (with whom this project would have never been possible).

I wanted to write a shipping fic not focused on the shonen tropes of combat, and I did so. While in Hold Your Breath I was unhappy with the action scenes, here I'm not too bothered. This isn't a story about combat and shonen tropes, it's not even a rehabilitation story. This was, and likely always will be seen as, a coming-of-age story.

One of my friends told me that I have a habit of putting a lot of focus on family relationships and dynamics in my fics, which is something I've come to notice as well. Is a story any worse off because it doesn't follow the same kind of beats that the canon material does? Of course not. Do I think that I should stop writing fics in which I criticize hero worship and society in MHA? Probably. Will I stop? Probably not. Am I going to start another project right after this? Also no (I want to focus on drawing practice and exams).

Do I love each and every bit I wrote of this story? Not every bit, but a lot. Do I love the people who stuck with this story and finished it? Y'all are the best.

Once again, thank you all for reading, thank Argentorum and Magery for helping me edit this, and I will see you one day.