"You lose, even as a teacher."
It was a war on two fronts, a psychological attack in preparation for a barrage of body blows. The straw that was meant to break the camel's back.
He stood there in Kamino, drawing ragged breaths, with torn clothing and a tattered body. Toshinori had done this before, had fought him before, yet the battle never seemed to end.
A constant battle of attrition, a struggle for dominance in which morality is dependent on the eyes of the beholder, a true foray into the gray, into the unknown. Innocent lives to forever hinge on the whims of a psychopath who loved to play god. The concept of feeling safe to remain just that — a concept.
The world had needed a symbol, a pillar to rest its trouble upon.
Toshinori hadn't thought twice before offering himself up for the job, and so he took up the mantle. He served the public for thirty whole years, dropped his country's crime rate down three percent, and became the world's image for peace and hope. All while shouldering the dreams and prayers of Japan, taking their burdens and making them his own.
Yet, his shoulders had never felt so weighted in those thirty years, nor had the burden ever felt so heavy. He felt defeated.
The area was engulfed in a soul-crushing aura of despair and darkness, the center of which stood a self-proclaimed god. A man with no face, no family, and evil so great that a lesser man would have been brought to his knees just by standing in front of him. Dressed up in a pristine suit, one that looked expensive, and a face-mask, the Symbol of Evil stood absolutely still. A monstrosity of an arm had ripped through the suit's sleeves — teeming with dozens of different quirks that weren't meant to be with him — lightning crackling along his rippling muscles, pipes and tendrils adorning his biceps.
Worst of all was the wretched grin on his face, an expression that displayed a sick sense of victory, of imbalance in the world. The man's face reminded him of his long-gone mentor and her gruesome death at his hands. Had he smiled the same way? Had he taunted her all the same?
It seemed like it was a game to the monster.
An endless, twisted version of Hide 'n Seek that the other party never consented to. The physical manifestation of a desire to control, to avenge what was never his right, to prove his brother wrong — both to the ones who carried the power and to himself.
The man came, he saw, and he slaughtered.
Nana hadn't deserved it.
She was a beacon of light, expunged too soon.
A slight twitch from the man made Toshinori tense up, alert and slightly afraid of what was to come. Before he knew it, his body moved on its own, the two enemy fists colliding with each other, causing debris to go flying as he met All For One head-on.
His focus wasn't entirely on the battle, however, as he contemplated the words placed in front of him. They painted a vivid picture of neglect, of utter uselessness; his enemy's words reinforced a thought train that had been nagging at him all these months. He didn't know how to teach, nor was he capable of dealing with children. Still, he tried.
And he tried.
Oh, he tried.
He chose a boy who seemed like the light, the manifestation of a curtain lifting in his mind — a curtain that must lift in society as well. Yet, under his 'guidance', the child suffered. Had Toshinori done his due diligence and tried to coach the boy through the new-found power that he would be receiving, perhaps his arms might have retained their full usage. What could have been had he done better, been better, approached his mentor earlier?
What could have been, had he not failed a child who looked at him as if he hung the moon and the stars in the sky?
Toshinori attempted to gather his bearings as the direness of the situation dawned on him. Trading blows with the physical embodiment of evil, with the supervillain who had deprived him of the woman he considered his mother, the man who rid him of half his respiratory tract. The man who had set his sights on Midoriya Izuku, the child he had entrusted his power to. The child that he was supposed to guide, supposed to raise.
He realized how close he was to giving up, how he was about to go off on a suicidal tangent in a last-ditch effort to rid the world of All For One.
He realized how close the young Midoriya was to losing his mentor.
"Impact Recoil!" came from All For One, as the strength in their exchanges almost overpowered him. Toshinori felt the power he had been pushing into his blows boomerang back into his body with the added force of All For One's efforts, shredding his skin further as he grit his teeth and attempted to force more of the remaining Quirk residue into his arm.
All Might was being pushed back, yet Toshinori remained stagnant as he seemed to resolve in his mind. A resolve to not leave behind the world just yet.
He resolved to not leave behind his mentee just yet.
"You're right," He gasped out as he bore the pain in favor of articulating his thought process. His fist felt as though it was facing the might of a thousand suns. It burned. "As a teacher, I must scold him." At this, he looked up, bringing his iridescent sapphire orbs to look at the monster standing in front of him. All Might channelled a large amount of the energy he had left into his arm in order to supplement and bulk it up further, to slightly palliate the continuous onslaught of blows. All For One noticed.
The masked man spoke of how unsightly it was to see the Number One Hero struggling with such intensity, a factor that he had not counted in his plans. All Toshinori heard, all All Might heard, was that he couldn't die in that moment.
At this, he gave up the force he put in his right arm — dangling it as easy bait — while he hooked All For One in the jaw with his left hand. He remembered Gran Torino's words of being wily, never letting the opponent know what he's doing. A preliminary blow, to set the stage for the last punch he hoped to land with the entirety of the remaining One For All residue. His opponent recovered quickly, calling him out on his weakness, as he talked about how his actions in the fight must have been someone else's influence. All Might gave him a slight smirk.
"That's because my back wasn't in it!"
Yagi Toshinori thought back to his mentor, to her words of encouragement. He had tried, and he tried — he did his best. Deep in his heart, he knew that Nana would've been proud.
All Might had poured his will, his heart, his soul into protecting the innocent from evil for his entire life and he was ready to do it one last time. He willed the dying embers into his arm as he bode farewell to the life of heroics he had led.
It had been a good run. He had done the job that he volunteered himself for. He became a pillar, a symbol.
And it was as that symbol that he needed to decimate All For One, for the benefit of the world, all in all.
"United,"
This wasn't just a special move, nor was it a simple punch thrown. United States of Smash was an amalgamation of his belief, strength, weakness, hope, and will thrown as a single punch, the last one he'd ever throw.
"States of,"
It was his pain, hard work, and desire. An overwhelming, burning desire. A desire that had consumed all his waking moments, never letting him rest. It was his desire to do good.
"Smash!"
United States of Smash was All Might's goodbye.
"Farewell, All for One."
His fist reached its mark, and so the battle ended in a manner no one could have foretold.
The villain's skull cracked underneath the attack, signifying the end to two hundred years of tyranny. It was over. His past actions remained avenged while his future villainy remained thwarted. This was his legacy.
Yagi Toshinori stood there, bloodied and bruised, clutching his shattered hand. His mind was plagued with a myriad of different thoughts, the reality of the situation sinking in. All Might remained no more, lost somewhere deep in the fabric of the universe, fresh in the minds of those he protected. A sacrifice befitting his actions, his achievements.
"Farewell… One for All."
That moment satisfied him.
His journey and where he ended up satisfied him.
The fact that he managed to overcome all odds, to rise from having no one in his corner to being loved throughout the world. His achievements were a testament to the hard work that he had put in and the sacrifices that he had made. A testament to the fact that he achieved his dreams.
Toshinori went from being a quirkless orphan to the Number One Hero, but most importantly, he saved as many lives as he could.
He could hear the cheers of the people, of the public — their undying love and support portrayed through their words — and he smiled. A final song, he mused, as he bulked up into his muscle form.
He was there, and he had won.
Everyone that he knew described the moment of retirement as a bittersweet one, yet Toshinori couldn't find anything in him aside from pure, unadulterated joy. He looked up from the ground to see the current generation of heroes looking upon him, their faces contorted in a mixture of awe and admiration, and he smiled. With a raised hand, he announced to everyone watching that the Symbol of Peace remained intact even during its last song.
He was satisfied with what he had become and excited for what the world has in store for him going forwards.
The moment, however, did not last.
Some people have the ability to be able to tell if something feels off, and as the hero heard a faint chuckling behind him, he felt horror creep up his injured spine.
Black tendrils shot towards him, piercing his body many times over. Toshinori's eyes widened as he staggered immediately. He shrivelled up into his emaciated form, not having any power left in him. As he turned around, he began to pale.
Behind him was the embodiment of evil, the face of terror, barely able to walk, moving with slow and sluggish movements towards Toshinori. His arm, the one that had branched out into the tendrils that struck All Might, began to set itself back in place.
A gruesome sight — one that would haunt Japan's dreams for many years to come.
Blood flowed upon the battlefield, both fresh and stale, and a pungent, coppery smell plagued the air. It had been an actual bloodbath, of which emerged a clear-cut victor.
All For One let out a bloody, bone-chilling laugh as he stumbled his way towards the fallen Pillar. He relished in the absolute defeat of the ambience, the look of dread on all those who bore witness to the scene. What he enjoyed most, however, was the expression on his impaled enemy's face. A delightful cocktail of self-loathing, hatred, and disappointment.
The ground shook with each step he took towards the ex-hero, his laughter descending into mad and incoherent ramblings. His wounds began to knit themselves back together, tissues and exposed organs kneading themselves back into place in a disgusting manner. Blood sprayed out of his body as he walked. He reached All Might and lifted him up with the help of his quirk, wishing to exacerbate the man's self-hatred and state of being.
He took a minute to straighten what was left of his suit, taking a perverse and twisted pleasure in making a show out of it — insinuating that he had all the time in the world. The grin on his face unsettled everyone who shifted their gaze upon it, as it was an expression of a victor. He had won, and he was out to display that to the world.
All For One looked up at the news helicopters and beckoned them closer. He took a sharp intake of breath and began. "This is your Symbol of Peace, Japan?"
The villain grabbed a barely-alive Toshinori Yagi by the neck and hoisted him up for the world to see. He displayed the battered body as an accolade that he'd won, objectifying and demoralising the concept of what he had become.
"A man that couldn't save himself, let alone others?"
He slammed the veteran hero into the ground, snarling as he did so. A look of displeasure was on his face as he acknowledged the presence of the man that had captured the entirety of his hatred over the course of many years.
"Pathetic."
The people of Japan felt the loss on a large-scale, not for the first time, yet tremendous nonetheless. Watching the exchange had caused their hearts to dull, as hope seemed fleeting. They had lost their embodiment of safety, after all.
They looked upon the fallen hero, only to find an expression of pure defeat on his face. Only to find his body in ruins. Only to find an emptiness in their chests, right where their faith for the future used to be.
Only to find the concept of Morale forgotten.
Alas, this instance was to be All For One's legacy.
Legacy. What is a legacy? A legacy is what a person is remembered by when they're gone, a small inkling of one's essence that transcends the boundaries of life and death.
"All that talk about ushering in an age of peace and tranquility," He scoffed, his voice rising with each word, "Have you, the public, finally realised it to be an exercise in futility?
"Have you all realised the reality of the heroes before you? How they lack power, how they lack grit and determination?" The villain kept pacing back and forth, addressing the cameras and the surrounding civilians. To the heroes, a fierce expression of hatred was visible on his face. "Power corrupts," He grit out, "And the baffling amount of power that society has given to heroes?
"It corrupted absolutely."
All For One let out a small, humourless laugh. "Never fear, for I am here to rid Japan of its infection." The air in Kamino once again grew in intensity, taking on an oppressive quality as the villain bulked up his arms once more. A perverted parallel to the citizen's beloved hero, how he fought in the two's last encounter.
Lightning crackled around the decimated area he stood in, and the ground began to shudder. The surrounding rubble and debris was shaking erratically, rattling around due to the sheer amount of force and energy releasing itself around him.
Perhaps it was because of the ruckus that a glint of green approaching from a distance went unnoticed.
"Approach me, yet let it be at your own caution." The bravado and sheer confidence in the man's voice projected to whomsoever had the (dis)pleasure of hearing his words. Toshinori lay forgotten, submerged in broken rocks, and broken dreams.
Suddenly, a second set of crackling sounds could be heard. The antithesis of All Might halted in his tracks, opting to go silent and listen, gauging a possible threat.
The pitter-patter of rapid, uneven footsteps filled his enhanced ears. A surprise ambush, he thought. Moments of silence ensued and the footsteps tapered off as he stood there menacingly, challenging anyone brave enough to fight him.
A speck of green edged closer by the minute.
Izuku stumbled over his own feet as he continued his mad, panic-induced sprint towards the decimated Ward in Yokohama. After the rescue mission, the group of U.A. students had started to make their way towards civilisation, only to find that their teacher was in trouble. They stood around to watch the fight in an adjacent district block through the large screens set up for advertisement alongside the rest of the public.
It was a rollercoaster of emotions, settling at a feeling of elation and victory...until it was taken away by the conniving villain's actions. The moment Izuku saw his mentor impaled and grievously injured, he burst into action. He ran, and he ran — activating One For All — towards the improvised battlefield.
The closer he got, the more his nerves built up.
He realised that All Might failed to defeat All For One. That he was headed towards the one villain that his teacher wasn't able to beat, and he wasn't even in control of more than five percent of his power.
What will happen if I die? If I can't help hi-, Izuku shook his head as he desperately tried to get such thoughts out of his head. His brain kicked into overdrive, contemplating the best method to deal with the situation (whether to launch a full-frontal assault or to gather further information and play it safe) right as he reached the outskirts of the area. The student turned off his cowl of energy as he dove to hide behind the debris, giving himself time to think his actions over.
His lungs felt as though they were filled up with lead yet simultaneously on fire. Izuku's breathing was heavily restricted due to a mixture of fatigue and anxiety, with the latter being responsible for most of his ailment. His body screamed at him, begged him to stop — to rest, to leave it up to the heroes — yet he maintained his resolve.
Any minute now. All I need is a single opportunity, he thought, crouched between rubble. The air around him was heavy, teeming with an oppressive aura courtesy of the masked man. The young Hero-In-Training waited patiently and tried to steady his breathing.
"As expected, the Heroes aren't willing to step up," said All For One, his lips curled up into a disgusted sneer. "How delightfully selfish of all of you."
The public grew restless, as people around the Ward shot desperate glares at the Heroes that stood amongst them.
They were paralyzed in fear, and the Heroes weren't any better off.
All For One backpedalled a few steps, drawing attention back towards the fallen Toshinori, as he gave the Hero a baleful stare. He picked up the offending individual, only to toss him back about a hundred metres.
And he walked.
The villain walked towards the hero, deriving pleasure from the sheer terror in his nemesis' eyes. The ground beneath him cracked with each step.
One.
Toshinori's eyes went wide, his life flashing before them.
Two.
The sneer on the wretched man's face morphed into a small, twisted smile. A genuine one at that.
Three.
All For One picked up the pace, bounding over rubble and the surrounding mess in order to get to Toshinori. In order to get to All Might. His strides got longer, and longer, and longer. Until…
His feet stopped touching the ground.
Toshinori looked up at the man in horror, able to spot that specific quirk at any given time of day. The villain's grin got wider. All For One slowed down yet again, being barely fifty steps away from his target, as he chose to hover — float — towards him. His arms engorged yet again, with a different quirk.
He got closer, and closer,
and closer.
Only to be interrupted just as he neared the bruised and battered Hero.
It was time.
He covered himself with One For All and jumped into action. Izuku broke into a manic sprint — one that was reinforced by his Quirk — towards the villain, approaching him from behind.
In that one moment, he pushed aside any doubts or insecurities he had.
In that one moment, Midoriya Izuku put everything behind him and focused on his one task.
In that one moment, the young Hero's true mettle was tested.
Even as he approached the daunting villain, his eyes continuously flitted towards the beaten-up figure of All Might on the ground. Each time he looked towards him, the steely resolve in his eyes strengthened further, a promise hidden somewhere in them.
Izuku cocked his fist back and promptly made contact with the back of All For One's head, pushing him face-first into the ground. The villain had seemingly been caught off-guard, which was made evident by the fact that the student got a blow in without immediate repercussions.
He took the opportunity to land a couple more hits, trying very hard to extinguish the fight before it even started. Red veins circled around his arms as he charged them up with the full power of One For All. Each blow resulted in cracking noises as Izuku's fists progressively got bloodier — most of the ichor not his. He kept raining down a barrage of fists, only stopping when he could feel no movement under his hands. Not a single squirm, nor a slight twitch.
He knew it was temporary.
Izuku turned around, his gaze locating and subsequently locking upon the figure of Toshinori who laid adjacent to the scene. He dashed over to the aid of his mentor as quickly as he could, green lightning trailing behind him. The injured hero was completely out of his wits, a frozen tinge of fear and horror in his eyes.
Slinging one of Toshinori's arms around his shoulder, the U.A. student got up quickly. He signalled towards the surrounding rescue heroes to get everyone out of the immediate area, offering up a vacant and protective stare to those that looked upon him in defiance.
There was no time for an ego-clash, he thought.
Channelling as much of his Quirk into his legs as he could, Izuku lifted up his teacher and began bounding towards the nearest safe point: towards Gran Torino. The rubble and ruins at his feet were inconsequential to him, as was nearly everything - for his sole goal was to keep the Hero out of danger, to keep him safe.
He reached a bloodied-up Gran Torino, who immediately took Toshinori off his arms.
"Midoriya-shounen, this is no place for you," said the old man, after placing his ward onto the ground behind Endeavour. The veteran hero's eyes were haunted, and filled with a meld of fury and terror. "Run. Please."
"You're not ready to face him, please run. If he gets you—" He stops abruptly, only to take a shuddering sigh and continue.
"If he gets you, none of it holds any meaning. If he gets you, it all goes to waste."
Izuku — who had been keeping an eye on his stirring opponent — turned to look at the Pro. "I can't stand by, not when lives are at stake."
"Not when his life is at stake."
He engaged eye contact with the Jet-Quirk user and gave him a large, albeit forced, smile.
Words have immense power. The young hero understood that, if only through circumstance. He watched as rescue operations went on around Kamino, as words of assurance and calming platitudes were doled out to all those in distress. Perhaps that is why he understood that he needed to speak up, to reassure, to declare.
And with a deep breath, he began.
It's alright now
"It's alright now," His voice was gentle, yet powerful. It carried all the way across the field, reaching the ears of the Heroes around him. A blanket of calm enveloped those around him, their hopes being sparked.
Have no fear
"Have no fear," he continued, his smile growing wider. He ramped up his usage of his Quirk, stretching it to his body's limit and then some. Izuku's body got covered in red, leyline-esque structures and his hair began to rise. There were signs of strain and struggle on his face, as his power burst out from inside of him. The ground beneath him began to chip, the cracked debris shaking ever-so-slightly by his power.
Hope emanated off of his figure, as he gave off wave after wave of assurances, of gentle fury. He cocked his fist, and raised it up in a sign of solidarity. A challenge to his opposition, a sign of his undaunted spirit and unwavering resilience.
A sign of his want to rid the world of evil.
"I am here."
The citizens of Japan were glued to their TV screens, whether they be in their homes or in city squares, all watching the spectacle with intense focus. There was immense confusion upon the stranger's arrival onto the scene and an intense celebration as he rescued All Might.
Needless to say, everyone was on the edge of their seat.
Back in Musutafu, near the Shizuoka prefecture, Inko Midoriya sat on her couch, paralysed in fear. She couldn't believe her eyes, didn't want to believe what she was seeing. All she saw was her son standing in the midst of a battlefield that he had no business being in, engaged in combat with the one villain that succeeded in bringing the Symbol of Peace to his knees.
She was petrified.
All she wanted to do was tell him to run, to hide, to come home. Inko wanted to tell her son that she loved him, that she was so, so, angry at him for being that stupid — yet she also wanted to let him know how proud she was of him.
Inko tried to cry, only for her tears to stem almost instantly.
For the first time in years, she clasped her shaking hands together and prayed. She prayed to whatever deity that was out there, asking but a simple request: that her son come home to her.
Subsequently, Pro-Heroes all around Japan were viewing the battle on the big screens as they mobilised and got ready for interference, combat, or rescue duty. Underground Heroes were rallied under Aizawa's banner, drawing upon whatever resources and connections that they had, anything that could possibly contribute to the on-going situation.
They were terrified.
They were terrified when they saw the supervillain rise from what was meant to be his grave, and they outright panicked when they saw the Number One Hero fall. However, the most scared that they had ever been was when they caught wind of the child's interference.
Those that were stationed or had reported to Kamino Ward were preparing for interaction and extraction. They still panicked, for the villain was one that commanded fear, yet their determination was solid.
A child had just saved the man upon whom the nation's hope hinged and nothing was to happen to him.
Not on their watch.
Meanwhile, across different districts of Japan, the classmates of the publicly unidentified child had gone pale. They had been watching the fight on the television, and had already been in a state of emotional turmoil due to the state of their teacher. However, their worries grew exponentially upon seeing their classmate in action. The class 1-A group chat had been blowing up for the better part of an hour, as they sent each other pointless platitudes and false promises. They were scared, and some of them were in tears. All of them had one thing in common: a firm desire to protect.
Class 1-A collectively prayed for Izuku to make it out of there safely.
The students that were a part of the rescue mission (Kirishima, Iida, Yaoyorozu, and Todoroki) had been hard-pressed to find a hiding place in order to escape the onslaught of villains and Nomu's that had been let loose — they hid in plain sight, melded with the city crowd. They were desperate to try and help, but couldn't help but feel outclassed. Even Bakugou remained frozen in his place, glaring at the televisions that showed the news.
A singular question remained common between the four groups:
What would he do next?
Upon hearing All Might's signature catchphrase from the quiet teenager, a shiver went up the collective spines of all those that watched.
The words had been but a whisper, yet the impact they caused had been profound.
"Midoriya-shounen, I want you to show the world that you're here. Show them who their safety is being entrusted to, show them who you are."
Izuku kept thinking back to that moment, he remembered it well. It was the moment where All Might told him to announce himself to the world right before the Sports Festival. It had been a defining moment in both his life and his high-school career, as it was the first time that he had expectations to fulfill, a need to succeed.
Most importantly, it was the first time that he had gotten validation and confirmation from his idol. Since then, he had given everything he had into training, into fighting, wanting to make All Might proud.
He knew he had to do the same in that moment.
Izuku needed to surpass his limits and give it his all. He needed to go Plus Ultra to even have a snowball's chance in hell of surviving that encounter.
But he wouldn't mind doing that — it was what he had signed up for.
If a person has the power to change things, to help, then they're obligated to do so. He's obligated to do so. His determination remained intact, as he continuously amped the power output of his Quirk, ready to fight to the death and beyond.
At fifteen percent, his body started quivering, and shaking. He bore the lively energy with an unexpected grace, regardless of how his body reacted. The smile on his face was strong, and comforting — never to flicker, never to waver.
He continued moving forward.
At twenty percent, he felt the first lick of pain. The word 'pain' seemed to be a misnomer, he mused as a burning sensation covered his body, merging with One For All's aura. It brought back memories of his childhood, of his father, of his best friend.
Izuku remembered that it was not the first time he was being hurt.
He knew the price of power and used it nonetheless. And onwards he moved.
With a big leap, he jumped up to fifty percent.
The strain on his muscles was showing as his aura turned redder by the minute. Power coursed through his veins, waiting to strike out, to leap into action in a manner not unsimilar to a snake. He felt as though every muscle, every ligament was pulled out of place and set back. The pain was tremendous, yet so was the importance of his task.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered the fact that the innocent bystanders on the scene had been cleared out, escorted to safety by the numerous Pro Heroes in the locale. He had a one-track mind though, its target stirring and beginning to gain strength.
A final push, he decided, as he pumped his muscles to their absolute limit.
He accessed 60% of his iteration of One For All.
Izuku's pain receptors went dead, or so he assumed as he entered a state of numbness. Or perhaps it was the result of immense emotional upheaval, and trauma caused by the monster in front of him, and its recovery.
He saw All For One shakily stand up, relying heavily on the semi-stable rocks around him to do so. Still, his grin remained the same — wretched, vile, and proud.
Still, his grin caused Izuku to see red.
With his newfound speed, the ninth user of One For All blurred towards the weakened villain — holding nothing back — and moved into a maneuver. Izuku juked left and right, trying to make sure his movements weren't predictable, as he used his superior agility to perplex his opponent. The villain, meanwhile, attempted to catch Izuku with one of his tendril quirks.
At that moment, Izuku struck.
A simple but powerful punch into All For One's side.
Not at full power or perfect health yet, the Symbol of Evil visibly recoiled at the strike to his body, letting out a small grunt of pain. Nevertheless, he began exchanging blows with the young Hero-In-Training. Due to the villain's injuries, they were fighting on mostly even grounds, neither getting the upper hand.
A blow for a blow, hands and feet moving in a frenzy at a speed invisible to the naked eye. It seemed like a serpentine dance form, captivating and alluring — catching the unshakeable attention of all those who bore witness to the rhythmic exchange. Each punch and kick caused shockwaves as they began breaking the world around them.
Debris began flying upwards, gravity a non-issue due to the extreme combative prowess of the two fighters.
The bystanders, the civilians, the newswatchers: they all were stupefied by the sight. It was unfathomable for a student, even if it was one that went to U.A., to be wielding such strength.
Morale, as a concept, had been slowly reigniting through the exchange of blows. The citizens latched on to the miniscule hope that the green-haired teenager was providing them and their spirits began to lift up.
People began cheering for him, encouraging him, egging him on to win the fight. Their desperation was made evident in the tonality and volume of their exclamations.
His classmates were on the edge of their seats, screaming in a mixture of joy and absolute terror. Their reactions varied throughout the fight and their prayers multiplied manifold.
Slowly but surely, Izuku began gaining the advantage. It was unnoticeable at first, a punch slipping by his opponent's guard or a kick moving too fast to be blocked, but it became evident that Izuku had been landing more blows by the slowly staggering form of the villain.
That is, until, All For One landed an elbow to his face.
The collective heart of Japan stuttered.
The villain began dealing out a combination of extreme hits, as his ragged breaths slowly morphed into manic laughter. Izuku looked up in horror, yet refused to give up even an inch of his standing — of his determination.
He got beaten into the ground further.
Eventually, All For One pulled back with his arms raised in a shrug, still looking towards the beat-up body of Izuku. "Really, Japan?" His voice, although soft, oozed with sarcasm and hatred. "You pinned all your hopes, however miniscule, on a child?"
"I beat down your saviour, and I beat down this child," He looked up, and his expression steeled. "Learn to give up." The villain turned around and started walking away from the teenager.
The aforementioned teenager wasn't able to feel anything, not a single smidgeon of pain or discomfort. Just emptiness.
For a brief moment, he contemplated giving up and the consequences of doing so. Unconsciousness beckoned, and death seduced. Alas, it was not to be.
Because he listened.
Because he heard.
He heard the screams of the people, the fire in their voices as they begged for him to get up. The primal desperation in their hope-tinged voices. Izuku heard the passion, the fight, the support.
He had to do it, he had to go Plus Ultra.
"Their saviour isn't gone," he began, wincing as he shakily got up. "Nor will they ever be helpless."
Izuku took a second to breathe.
Each exhale exerted enormous energy. Power accumulated and built up inside of him with every breath he took. The ground beneath him, already cracked, began indenting further as if the hand of god was pressing him into the core of the Earth.
Lightning arced all around the area, originating from the power Izuku was giving off. The intense pressure released had forced every Hero in the surrounding area to their knees.
It was a sight to behold, it was raw beauty.
He embarked upon a slow walk towards the now-still villain.
"There will always, ALWAYS be someone to watch out for the public's safety. There will always be true heroes."
Izuku thought back to what All Might had said to him on the day that they first met.
"You can be a hero, young man."
"It doesn't matter how hard you try, All For One." He growls, his steps slowing down.
"There will always be someone who pushes away the fear." He paused both his speech and his gait. His emerald-green eyes lit with unbridled fury and righteousness. With an intensity never before shown, he spoke. "There'll always be those that stand up against you, those that say…"
'I am here!'
"I am here."
With that, he releases it all. The amalgamation of the power that he had been building up for what seemed like ages. The bystanding heroes would eventually come to describe the sight as heavenly wrath, it was as if a higher being decided to exert upon them. It was the ability to subjugate wholly and absolutely.
Izuku had dimmed his eyes, drawing on whatever power that he could, wishing to end it all in that moment.
And then he let out a sigh.
His eyes opened, showcasing a warring, yet tranquil balance between rage and discipline. He had no more words, no more sounds to give out.
Midoriya Izuku remained silent as he took a step towards his foe. A step turned into two, two turned into three and suddenly he appeared in front of All For One. The villain seemed resigned to his fate.
"Detroit…"
As he cocked his fist back, Izuku called upon every ounce of power that he was able to muster. His mind raced back to many moments, his best and worst. He thought back to the fated meeting with All Might, and the Entrance Exam to U.A., to the way his mother teared up when he announced his acceptance to his dream high school. However, he also thought back to the days where waking up felt like hell.
The days in which he lacked the strength to go on.
He had tried immensely, over the course of his school year, to push down the horrid, the bad. He smiled at Kacchan and made nice with whoever was in front of him. However, at that moment he understood.
Izuku understood what he was meant to do.
All he felt was calm. It didn't matter what he had thought or what others had said, he was a torchbearer — a symbol meant to uphold peace, justice, and hope in the world. It was his time, and he knew what to do.
"Clench your buttcheeks, and scream in your heart!-"
"SMASH!"
He pummelled the villain into the ground with that one attack, and he stood there.
The Midoriya Izuku who stood there was different.
Even though his body shivered, he raised his fist up for the world to see. It was his moment, and it was his solemn duty to do good.
He was a Symbol at that very instant, whether it be of Victory or of Hope.
Izuku was finally who he was meant to be.
He noted the presence of a few Heroes that had clambered on to the scene, slowly making their way towards where he stood. Izuku took a few steps back, and allowed them access to the body of the Scourge of Kamino. His pain receptors had kicked in and his grasp on reality seemed a bit feeble.
The news reporters reached the area, and continued their emergency broadcasts and coverages.
Izuku strained his ears to make out what they had been saying, faintly making out the fact that a high number of casualties were to be expected. His heart dropped, broke, and simultaneously splintered into n amount of pieces.
He raised a hand.
"Next time…"
The reporters gasped, scrambling to turn their mics towards their saviour.
He pushed down the blood and the bile that he could feel coming up his throat as he spoke, grimacing slightly at the rancid taste. His body was in tatters, and he knew it. To him, it seemed as though someone had poured magma in his bloodstream — the existence of such pain being impossible to justify otherwise. He had to work through the pain, there was no other option. Not for him.
Izuku had to use the entirety of his willpower to remain standing, as his body was so very close to giving up on him. His knees buckled as he shifted slightly, bringing his gaze towards the camera that he was pointing at.
"Next time… it's your turn."
It was not just an announcement, it was a promise. It was his promise to the citizens of Japan. His first song, a shout into the void - vowing to bring light.
He clenched his teeth in an effort to stay upright and smile as he beared the pain. This was his job now, no one else's. It was his chance to prove that he was the hero that he had dreamed of becoming: a smiling, dependable, and cool hero. The one who would carry the world on his shoulders, and bear the suffering of everyone around him. What was a little pain in the face of that?
From a distance, Toshinori Yagi had been getting his injuries treated while watching his successor address the nation. He winced, and he moaned, and he bled. A million emotions ran through his head, but he settled on pride. He felt pride.
He chose correctly.
This was his legacy.
Legacy.
What is a legacy?
Toshinori realised that his legacy wasn't a feat, or an action — it was the young man that stood in the middle of the crowds. The young man who fought the worst that Japan had to face with a smile. The young man who carried his ideals with pride and honour, vowing to do good by the world. All Might's legacy remained intact in Izuku Midoriya, the new Symbol of Peace, who was having his first song on the very day that his mentor had his last.
Toshinori was satisfied for the second time in one day.
Drip.
Drip. Drip.
Feeling something dripping on his face, he looked up, only for the clouds to thunder and unleash a heavy downpour upon the surrounding area. Yet, as Toshinori squinted he could make out a glimmer, the beginnings of an unborn rainbow.
A sign of new hope, a changing of the guard.
For a moment, there was complete radio silence throughout the crowds of Japan. Those that knew the young man stood still, mouths agape. A group of five students stood in the midst of an unassuming public, their awe and incredulity blinding them to the growing reaction of the crowd.
One of them glared up at the screen, yet it was not as it seemed to be.
The silence stemmed, as a person started clapping. One person turned into two, two turned into three, and three turned into hundreds. Before they knew it, the world stood up and applauded the young man for his bravery.
While their eyes weren't dry, nor were their bodies steady, they still were overjoyed by the victory they had witnessed.
They celebrated the defeat of a supervillain and the rise of a new hero.
They celebrated the return of their hope.
AN: There you have it! I hope it was worth the wait? Maybe? Kinda? Let me know through a review, drop any questions you might have, and reach out if you want to talk. Next chapter is going to be up on the 28th of May.