'Time changes all things. It wore down my sharp edges and left someone I can hardly recognise. I will leave future generations to decide how I will be remembered. It is an honour to know history will be the judge of each word I put to paper. How far, I wonder, are we to search this broken world for our better selves? Will we allow the weight of past sins drag us to the ground? I truly hope not. In the years to come, I hope they read my works only as a reference for how barbaric we were as a people. The future is bright if we work towards it. In the immortal words of those greater than I, 'Any place can be paradise so long as you have the will to live.'
—Excerpt' from 'Reminiscing on the Final Hour' by Hinata Ononoki.
This is not the first time you have inverted the lines of tribute, Izuku Midoriya. This is not the first time you gave unto your subjects the tribute of the living lightning. Now, you have broken the barriers between the inky darkness of your kingdom and the orderly structures of the godflame that protect the world of your immortal corpse.
Do you wish this to become your new throne world? Shall the shadowking exist on this plane and corrupt this land? All things are possible for you. If this is your wish, we will see it accomplished. It is by your anathema body that the abyss was founded, and it is by our grace that your immortal shell will live eternally.
Loyal subjects will always know the desire of their king. Feast upon this universe and tithe it to the shadowking. Consume the stars and the vacuum between them. Annihilate each world and create acolytes off all life.
The king has granted you passage.
-TDB-
"State your name for the record."
The voice is cold, flat, and indifferent. There isn't an ounce of emotion or interest in anything other than facts.
"Izuku Midoriya," he replies with just as little emotion as the interrogator. "Age, fifteen. Nationality, Japanese. Individual number: 14-17-23390615. Currently Registered at UA Hero Academy."
"You understand that everything you say will be recorded and used as part of a larger investigation."
Izuku rolls his eyes. "I understand I'm being unlawfully held in a military base by an organisation with no authority over me."
The sharp inhale is the only sign of annoyance on the man's face. They've been over this each day for the past four days. Oddly enough, this captivity is harsher than All For One's. The freedom to move as he pleased or even to speak to people is gone. For the last four days, everything has been to a schedule with no deviation.
Wake up. Shower. Interrogations for hours. Meal. More interrogations. Meal. Sleep period. Repeat.
"You were at the centre of the largest war Japan has faced in the last two centuries, held captive by a natural disaster. The Kamino Ward War took over five million casualties in a mere month. We require answers and you have them."
They named the war in honour of the final battlefield. It doesn't roll off the tongue very well.
He gives the same response as always. "Let me contact my family."
"You're here for your own safety."
That's a new response. One that drives Izuku to burning rage.
"My safety," he says slowly, tilting his head.
One For All comes to life within him, the livewire of electric potential filling his body. He sweeps his arm out faster than the interrogator can register.
"The strongest man alive held me in captivity," Izuku says as the wall collapses. "He's dead. Don't bullshit me."
His interrogator startles in surprise at the shattered wall, eyes wide. Then he sees how the next four walls have holes through them. The alarms are shrill and piercing, grating on Izuku's ears.
When the interrogator opens his mouth to speak, Izuku glares at him with the full force of his presence. It forces the man down into his seat, immobile.
When soldiers stream in, guns at the ready, Izuku extends the full force of his power. It is lightning and darkness and death, the power of a king ready to be unleashed and cause devastation. It is a reminder that he is here because he chooses to be here and not because they have any power.
"You have questions, I understand that," he says to a room of soldiers frozen by the power of one boy. "But, considering that you and yours want to rule Japan in a military junta, I'm not inclined to care. Now, contact my parents and let them know where I am."
He eases up on his presence just enough for the interrogator to draw breath.
"We're not—"
"My father's name is Hisashi Atakani. Search that up. You really don't want to needlessly antagonise him."
He can understand the appeal of this, observing as a group of grown men are forced to the ground simply by his presence. For a moment, he sympathises with All For One's needless arrogance.
Is this how you will rule, brother mine?
It isn't an admonishment but a genuine question. Still, it reminds him that these men and women are frightened by the war that has been waged and simply wants a guarantee that nothing else will go wrong. He eases up on the pressure.
"I'm going to take a nap," he says, rising.
Boldly, he walks out the room, indifferent to their fear. He bares his teeth at the first person who tries to stop him, and those teeth are the fangs of a creature ready to eat the sun. It sends the man scrambling away.
In the solitude of his room, he lay on the bed and stares at the blank ceiling. His senses are enhanced enough that he can hear the panic in their voices as they try to figure out what to do. Mostly, he follows their shadows and, if he focuses hard enough, he can find the distinction in movements as fine as a keystroke as someone types out a memo.
He stares at his hands and the flickering lightning. He is still using only a fraction of One For All but it somehow seems more, somehow seems greater than anything he could ever hope to achieve before. Breaking down the walls had been easy, so easy that at the last moment he had to cut most of the power to the blow before he destroyed the base on accident.
It is the nature of the abyss. The weak give tribute to the strong who in turn plunder as they please. The fading fires of One For All, returned to life to face their great nemesis, chose to return to you before passing on. Their power, the power of each previous wielder, was added onto what you already held.
He feels the living lightning of One For All and knows it has intensified. More than that, however, he can feel the incredible heat of the other torchbearers and their power waiting to be used.
"How strong will I become?"
How does it feel to be the strongest man alive? his brother asks mockingly.
For a moment, he feels a heartbeat in his torso, one alien and different from his usual heart. It is the heart he ate, All For One's parting gift to him. He lets the heart return to death and stop beating, discomfited by the sensation of both beating in tandem.
They move him to another facility soon after that. This one is in Tokyo and he's given greater freedoms than before. He's uncertain what exactly his father threatened them with, but it must not have been pleasant.
His parents, his mother most of all, constantly try to force their way to him. Thankfully, he's allowed to call them and explain that he's here willingly and of his own volition.
"It's fine," he tells his father. "I'll be home in a week. Tell mum this is necessary."
Izuku wonders how much of this is his fault. So many are dead and so many will keep on dying. The casualty report keeps climbing, a legion of the dead howling out in anguish and pain. There are dozens of messages that bombard his phone once a tiny bit of the networks come back. Everything is so slow now and bandwidth choked. Still, it warms his heart to know people are worried for him.
That warmth is crushed when he finds out who hasn't made it. The first name hits him painfully and he crushes his phone, partly out of an instinctive aversion to pain but mostly so he can pretend it isn't real for a little bit longer.
"Not today," he decides.
Later, he finds himself in a room being interrogated by the same man. The man is wary, remembering the last time Izuku was pushed and broke down a wall without thought. Still, the man is a professional and they go through the same song and dance as usual.
"Your quirk is officially registered as Shadowshield," the man says. "It is officially described as an emitter dealing with shadows with secondary strengthening abilities characterised by green sparks. I think that's a lie."
Izuku smiles blandly. "Are you accusing me of having a dual quirk? Only the Royal Family managed to successfully breed dual quirks. It took them centuries to be successful."
"We have footage of the final moments before you, All For One, and All Might vanished from sight. Whilst we don't have footage of your return, we do have eye-witness testimonies and global illumination the same shade of green as your lightning."
"Witness reports change constantly, and humans are terrible at remembering things. Any answer you get has already been tainted by time and inattention."
The interrogator is undeterred. "Our current hypothesis is this: you possess two separate quirks, an emitter with secondary warp capabilities, and a strengthening quirk characterised by green lightning."
They're smarter than you give them credit for.
Izuku sighs. "Fine, sure. Let's go with that."
"So, you acknowledge this as the truth?"
"I acknowledge that my quirk, Shadowshield, was accurately registered with the full extent of my powers, barring a warp capability that developed only during the middle of the Kamino Ward War where I was held captive by the villain All For One. Regardless of whether they are two separate quirks, their behaviour is intertwined and inseparable, and as such, may as well be one quirk."
The man leans forward. "A single warp quirk, combined with a force of one hundred individuals, successfully managed to decapitate the command structures of the army, the navy, the Public Safety Commission governing the Heroics Industry, and both state intelligence apparatuses. With that in mind, can you stop being an asshole?"
"No thanks."
The man closes his eyes and takes one long breath. Then he opens them, eyes hard and determined.
"Fine. Here's the situation as it stands. Every single warp quirk in the world, of which there are no more than ten, are now greater strategic assets than nuclear weapons. The strategic destruction one can manage with one warp quirk is more viable than Japan's nuclear arsenal. As such, you are a strategic weapon."
"I'm no one's weapon," he snaps, feeling a rising wave of anger wash over him.
He hears a snap and looks down to see two holes in the ground from tapping his feet too hard in agitation. He takes a breath and forces his anger down.
"I'm not a weapon," he tries again politely.
"You destroyed a series of reinforced wall capable of surviving a blow from a tank without thinking. With both an emitter and a warp quirk, you're now one of Japan's primary invasion deterrents. By virtue of your quirks, you'll be required to stand at the forefront when China finally regroups and decides we're weak enough for an invasion."
"I'm not yours to use as a chess piece."
"You have the same power of a queen with the authority of a king."
Izuku grits his teeth. "I hate chess analogies. Do you know why? Because it makes it easy to desensitise yourself to the value of those around you. People aren't pawns to be thrown away."
You speak like All For One. Those were his words. Is that a truth you've chosen to take from him?
"We can pretend you're not a king with dozens of pawns at your command."
"I'm not."
The man reaches over and withdraws a tablet. He slides towards Izuku. It lights up, showing a simple green lightning bolt.
"They call themselves, very unimaginatively, the Lightning Bolts. Usually, after an incident like this, we would scoop up all the vigilantes and anyone unaffiliated with a major organisation. Except for this time. They all refused and working together under one banner. Your banner."
The tablet changes images to a man Izuku has seen only once.
"Crawler," Izuku says. "I've met him once. Doesn't mean I tell him or anyone else what to do."
"Really now? The manifesto of their organisation is the same as your very public principles: the reformation of the heroics industry, the removal of the military presence in Shikoku, the empowerment of Hokkaido, sweeping changes to the judicial system and the current electoral process. These are your ideals. If they follow them, then they may as well be taking orders from you."
"Or maybe they're just decent human beings who want to make things better for everyone." Izuku taps his finger against the desk. "You're… scared of them. Afraid of what they'll do."
"We account for all of our nuclear weapons. Why do you think we wouldn't do the same for you? We just came out of a war and we can't afford you starting another one. Tell me, in your own words, why the Kamino Ward War started."
"Because a villain decided to cause chaos and slaughter people. That's the last three centuries of history in a nutshell."
"We have the facts and a timeline of events. The League moved against UA during your USJ trip and again during the Sports Festival Bombing. You would then publicly defeat Stain, starting a wave of civil and political unrest across the country, aggravated by your interview in Hokkaido. Finally, the attack on UA's camp trip comprising 1st-year heroics students. You were involved directly in all of these incidents."
Izuku shrugs. "I guess I'm just unlucky."
"Let's zoom out a bit. Following the stadium assault, China's Djibouti base was attacked by a member of the Royal Guard and the villain Kurogiri, who was once a member of the imperial household. Kurogiri who took part in the Purge working with All For One. The Purge of Shikoku which was orchestrated by a man known as Hisashi Atakani. That's the name of your father. It's a rather interesting web of connections, isn't it?"
Izuku smiles blandly. "I'm told I look like him."
"Hisashi Atakani, now Hisashi Midoriya, who worked for both the Emperor and All For One. The latter who could have avoided a war by returning you, but he chose not to. We want to know why. Why did the Strongest Man Alive start a fight he didn't need to when he hasn't done so in over a century?"
"Because he was old and tired," Izuku says. "You live two centuries and see everyone you know die. You watch everything you take for granted fade to the wayside and your way of life become irrelevant. He could have clung to power for another century, but he chose to say goodbye to it all. This war, all this death and bloodshed, was nothing more than a final huzzah. This was an extended suicide, nothing more. He wanted to be remembered as more than just a villain. He wanted the history books to call him a force of nature, a walking apocalypse."
Do you believe that?
"So, you were just the means of his suicide?"
"No," he says in response to Mikumo.
"Then what?" the interrogator asks. "What were you?"
"A way to lure All Might," Izuku says. "All Might was my mentor. All For One knew that. It's why they had the clone at the other base. Against the joint team supported by All Might, he would have died without accomplishing anything. They had strength in numbers, so he split that strength and made it a weakness."
"You seem to know a lot about how he thought. Only a villain understands another villain so well."
The accusation stings for only a moment.
"Well, maybe if Shikoku wasn't a shithole because of your presence, none of this would have happened." He leans forward, staring at the man with eyes like endless jade pits. "You're trying to shift blame and absolve yourselves of your failings. The society that gives rise to men like Stain and All for One is one you and yours built. You want power and control, and for that, you leave people to suffer. That's not something I can forgive."
Izuku stands.
"Stop."
He shakes his head. "I'm going home."
"You can't leave."
The shadows darken as all light and hope and life leaves the room. The crystal madness in his soul, the dreaming gods howling to the tune of Izuku's tightly restrained rage and anguish, fills the room. He walks towards the man, each step forming a trail of solid green lightning.
The man falls out of his chair, scrambling back in terror. There is no light but the green of Izuku's eyes and the lightning of his soul, and neither are friendly.
He kneels before the man and lays a hand on his shoulder.
"If I squeeze, it'll shatter your shoulder. If I squeeze harder, I'll rip off your arm." He removes his hand and taps the darkened wall. "I could flick my finger and this building would collapse. If I wanted to, I could walk into any military base and slaughter everyone in it. I'm here because I chose to be here. I chose to see the nature of the military, to see if there was something worth redemption. Do you understand?"
The man says nothing, struggling to breathe.
"One day, I will come and purge your military of every bad element. It may not be tomorrow or this decade, but I refuse to let this cycle continue. You're right to be afraid of me and what I might do. But the only people who should be afraid are people like you, powerful men who don't care about those who suffer because of your greed."
He stands and takes a step back, gazing dispassionately at the man. There is nothing special to this man, no redeeming qualities. He is nothing but a gnat.
"You sicken me."
With a thought, shadows consume Izuku and he walks the barrier between the real and the abyss. This endless darkness is his domain, his power and right. He walks a road of endless darkness and searches for his home.
He steps out into the warmth of the sun and sees the damage done to the neighbourhood. Deep cracks mark the road and walls have collapsed. More than a few buildings have burnt to the ground and a thick smog fills the air.
A part of him wants to walk towards the devastation and help those who can't help themselves. He has the power to do so, through physical capabilities or through his shadows. But a larger part of him just wants to be at home.
He knocks on the door.
The footsteps are heavy and the shadow weak, but familiar. Long before she gets near, Izuku knows it will be his mother who opens the door.
His mother looks tired, dark bags under her eyes and more lines than he remembers. Everything about her looks drawn and sapped of the quiet strength he admired so much. This isn't his mother possessed by indomitable willpower and a love deeper than the abyss, but a woman tired and broken by the devastation one man wrought.
At that moment, seeing his mother anything less than magnificent, makes him hate All For One. It is a seething, burning hatred that runs deep to his core.
At the core of that hatred is the society that gave rise to him.
And just like that, Izuku can let go of his rage. It's all just so big, this question of blame. He wants to hate All For One but the man is dead. Hating the dead just seems so pathetic.
"Hey," Izuku says, uncertainly.
She stares at him for a long moment.
Suddenly, this seems like a horrible idea. What if she doesn't want him? What if she blames him for all of this? What if she sees a villain instead of her son?
Then she pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, so tight that he wonders if she's lost control of her powers for a moment.
"I thought I had lost you," she says raggedly.
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault. I promise, it's not. You're back and that's all that matters."
"I know." He smiles though she won't see it. "But I still made you worry. I could have come home earlier but I didn't want to make an issue of it."
She hugs him tighter. "I know. You're a good kid."
His smile cracks. "Thank you," he says, for that is still true.
"I know you and you are a good, even if you don't believe it."
"It's just you here," he says instead. "I thought he'd be here."
Izuku swallows nervously. All for One promised to return Kouta, promised that the boy would be unharmed. Had he reneged on that deal?
"Your father's out with Kouta."
Izuku exhales harshly, deflating. He chuckles but nothing about that laugh is happy. "He's safe then."
"I promise he is."
"I believe you. That's all I wanted. To save one person."
"You saved Yaoyorozu as well."
Izuku smiles. "I guess I did. Kouta's going to stay with us," he says, resolutely.
"Are you sure? Doesn't he have…"
He shakes his head. "They're all gone. I know we can't save everyone who lost their parents to this war, but I can save him. I made a promise to him to keep him safe and I don't mean to break it."
"I'm not going to stop you." She smiles. "He's a delightful boy."
"When he's not being a little shit," he mutters, remembering every time the kid hit him.
"Izuku," his mother says sharply in reprimand.
"Sorry."
They stand there awkwardly, still mother and son, but also strangers trying to understand each other. His mother is colder and harder than he remembers, strong in a way that's almost cruel.
He wonders what she went through whimsy he was gone because he knows that strength. It's the same strength that pushed him towards sacrificing the Pussycats in exchange for Kouta and Momo.
"Let's talk about something serious," she says, pulling him from his thoughts.
"What?"
"UA. You know I can't let you back there."
"Yeah, I figured."
"Too many students died and there have been too many failures. I'm not willing to trust them ever again."
"I know."
She frowns. "We're looking at legal action, your father and I."
He smiles wryly. "And Kacchan's mother, right? Probably Kouda or Hagakure's parents as well."
"You know."
"Not the details but… I know you and I know my father. I guess I've always known. I won't stop you if that's what you want. I'll stand by you because you're my family."
"Do you still want to be a hero? There's Ketsubutsu if you want to stay in Japan. Or Hero Memorial Academy in Zimbabwe."
"Or maybe Toledo Research Institute, an institute built in honour of a Great Tyrant."
Her smile fades. "It's hard, I know, but you need to keep walking forward, one step at a time."
"Do that and you'll meet the rising sun," he says wryly.
"I thought you'd be more upset."
"I am. But, if I start crying, then I won't stop. If I let one tear out, then I'm just… I won't be able to stop—and I can't deal with that, you know. I just never want to have to cry because it's real and he's gone."
He's breathing harshly, heartbeat frantic by the time he gives by on speak. She holds his face gently and wipes away the stream of tears, not caring that he is weak and sad and struck by grief.
"I love you," his mother says.
That proves too much. Whatever mastery he had over his emotions vanishes, the coldness gone, replaced by the scared little boy who never really grew up. He cries, holding his mother tight. Everything he's kept hidden by a veneer of control comes out, every fear and the soul-crushing grief he has. He doesn't know how long he cries for, but there's a wet patch on his mother's shoulder by the time the tears run dry.
When his tears are dry, they speak of everything that happened. They speak in hushed tones and tentative questions, trying to piece together everything that went unsaid whilst they were apart. And when she falls asleep on the couch, exhausted, he covers her with a blanket and walks upstairs.
There is damage to his room, cracks running along the walls and his window is broken. His desk and the computer are both gone, and he assumes they were destroyed. There are posters and books missing and the bed is smaller than the one he had before. At the very least, it is clean and there aren't any safety hazards to it.
The clothes in his closet have been placed in boxes neatly stacked on top of each other. He opens each box until he finds one with his favourite hoodie, one with a picture of All Might on it. It's old and worn but still comfortable. Izuku wears it, comforted by the familiar fabric. It fits tightly against the broad expanse of his shoulders and the curve of his biceps.
Nothing has ever fit so well.
The door opens slowly. At first, he thinks it's his father, but the man's fiery presence is downstairs with his mother. Their eyes meet for the first time in weeks, Izuku's green to Kouta's black. There's an undercurrent of hesitation, of uncertainty that any of this is true.
He kneels as the boy rushes him. Izuku catches him and wraps his arms around him.
"Hey, Kouta."
"You said you'd be back," Kouta says, his voice breaking.
"Sorry, I'm late."
Kouta smacks him but there's no strength to it. "I hate you."
"I know you don't mean that."
The boy hits him in the chest. "You don't know anything."
Izuku only smiles sadly.
"I've lost my best friends and I'm too scared to look for the rest because I'm afraid I'll just break if I see them. I've lost my closest mentor who was more a father to me than my dad. I know the pain you feel. I know that pit in your stomach that feels like it's never going to go away. I know that feeling of functioning but not really feeling. I know what it's like to wake up and feel like you're drowning." He pulls the boy closer. "I'm sorry you have to know what that feels like. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough."
"It hurts."
"I know."
"I miss them."
"I know."
"I just want them back."
"I know."
"I wish none of this happened."
Kouta doesn't cry but Izuku holds him until the boy is composed. There will be more tears in the future. They will both remember their captivity and the cost they paid in those they love.
"If you want, there's a place for you here," he says softly. "I know it's not much of a choice, but it's all I can promise right now."
"Could you have saved them?"
"Kouta…"
"The truth. Could you?"
Izuku shakes his head. "No. He wanted them dead from the very beginning. He was older, more cunning, and more powerful than me. We only made it out because he allowed it."
"I hate him for what he did." Kouta stares at him. "Make me a promise."
"Anything."
"Promise me you'll be strong enough that this never happens."
"I promise."
Eventually, the boy falls still, exhausted from the day. Izuku doesn't begrudge him that. If anything, he wishes he could sleep as well. He carries Kouta to the third room and lays him on the bed, tucking him in.
Would you have cared for me like that if I lived?
He looks to the mirror in the room, the room that was once meant for Mikumo Atakani. In it, he sees his brother, hair dark as midnight and eyes darker than Izuku. His features, though, lack the scars Izuku has. Despite all that they have been through, Mikumo has done nothing but care for Izuku. He's done nothing but be a good brother.
Izuku isn't so cruel to deny that truth.
"Yes."
-TDB-
Shouto Todoroki doesn't know what to do with his time. There is no school to go to after a war like this, not when half the students in UA's heroics program are dead. Not when an investigation is brewing.
He devotes a portion of his time to his mother. He learns more about this woman he once loved, each story helping him build a new image in his heart to care for.
"I don't think we said a single thing to each other during the negotiation or the weeks after the ceremony," his mother says, smiling wistfully. "One day, we're in the solarium and we haven't said a single word, so I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down. Told him he can either speak to me or I'm walking out. That was the day I learnt your father could be painfully shy."
"Endeavour? Shy? Are you sure we're talking about the same person?"
"He wasn't always as hard as he is now. He was pushed into that marriage by his family just as much as I was. Have you seen how bad he is at public speaking? That's because your father is shy and he uses bluntness to hide it."
Shouto shakes his head. "I don't see it."
All he sees are harsh words and burning determination. He sees Endeavour's disappointment and spiteful words. He can't imagine vulnerability. No, that isn't true. He can still remember the day they visited his mother and the words Endeavour spoke. Unrepentant words, yes, but also freeing words.
He remembers his father's words so clearly. Despite everything, I am proud of you.
Maybe, just maybe, the shy man Rei remembers is also the true version of Endeavour just as the cruel and arrogant man Shouto knows is true.
"Well, he's changed a lot, but he'll always love you, no matter how bad he is at showing it. So, here I am, five foot nothing, standing on a chair so I can grab his collar. His eyes are wide, and he looks like he's terrified for his life—what exactly do guys say about women that gets you so terrified? Anyway, I tell him he can start talking to me or I'm walking out."
"Did he talk to you?"
"Well, he did squeak something out that might have been a yes. I think that's when he fell in love with me. Your father isn't… the nicest person in the world, but he did love his family until I happened."
"That wasn't your fault."
She holds his hands gently. "I still did it. I hurt my own child. There are no excuses for that. You should be angry and upset with me. I don't deserve you not hating me. I don't deserve your love."
"You always will." He kisses the back of her hand gently. "I love you, ma."
He smiles. It only widens when she laughs at it.
Most of his time is spent rebuilding his home. It wasn't designed to deal with an earthquake and much of it is shattered and destroyed. He's never built a home before, but he doesn't need to buy hardware supplies—not that there are any readily available. With his ice, he can reverse damage to the superstructure. With his fire, he can fuse anything that needs to be fused and convert materials as needed.
When there aren't enough materials, he flashes deep into the abyss and slaughters creatures that resemble the materials he needs. Much of steel beneath the concrete is from the corpses of an iron giant. The concrete filling is made from grinding the chitin from armoured birds-like creatures. When he needs screws, he finds smaller entities with twisting horns that he can jury rig to be useful.
During his breaks, he spends his time looking to the future. Everyone is so busy with the present effort of rebuilding that they forget that the future will come whether or not they hide their heads in the sand.
People ignore the fact that Japan is still technically at war with China, a war that can at any time resume. They choose to pretend that the economy isn't all sorts of fucked and that it will be decades, perhaps centuries, before it reaches stable levels. They don't consider that the League practically walked away freely after the war with only about a hundred confirmed kills or captures, and only thirty being from the war force. They ignore how villains are building a new nation with Vancouver Island as their capital, and how it will be the reason a civil war starts in North America.
Shouto doesn't care about any of that. He's more interested in mapping out the patterns that will arise from the actions Fumikage or Izuku take. And that, more than anything, bothers him. There are so many possible futures, some more likely than others, and he can only track them from watching people around them. Kirishima proves incredibly useful. He's almost a constant of the universe and observing his state gives a quick overview of what sort of future it is.
There are days where he sees something flit across his vision. It is in a distant star system and is never the same. Something dark stalks the void that binds the stars together and the stars themselves whisper warnings. He can't make much sense of them as stars process things very differently. This universe he and his family lives in belongs to godflame. Earth exists in the topmost layer of the abyss where the natural and orderly laws birthed by the eternal flame hold sway.
Seeing something nearly as dark as Izuku hiding in the emptiness of space is disquieting.
"I guess everything changes," he says to himself.
He manifests a wisp of godflame and stares at the fire. These black flames which birthed concepts like time and entropy have stayed constant for a period longer than eternity, seeing neither change nor difference. Now, though, merged with hellfire and the memories of his mother, Shouto has made something new out of the eternally unchanging.
Maybe it's time the natural order of things changes once more. Even if it does mean humanity must fight for its right to live.
At least I won't be bored.
"Shouto."
He lets his visions of possible futures fade away, blinking away the dryness of his eyes. He blinks to get rid of the blurriness in his right eye. When it doesn't fade, he realises it might just be permanent.
"What's up?"
"Dad's awake."
Shouto nods. He feels like that's something he should do. "Okay. Are we going to see him?"
"He's in a naval hospital. That's why we haven't been able to find him."
"Sure."
She frowns. "You knew."
He shrugs. "I called Fumikage and he found out for me. He's in the best hospital that's operational and stable."
She puts her hands on her hips and that's when he realises that he's made a mistake. "And why didn't you think to tell me?"
"Because it wasn't important?"
"He's family!"
He winces, taking a step back. "Sorry?"
She just shakes her head. "I don't even know what to do with you."
"At least we have electricity?"
That was one of his earlier projects. An endless fire to generate steam from ice, turbines built from the corpses of metal gods and superconducting wires from the nervous system of a shambling darkbeast.
"Have you been keeping up with your studies, at least?"
"Sure, let me learn about electromagnetism and nuclear forces and gravity when I'm the one who decides those laws."
"Then tell me the law of gravitation. Or Schrodinger's equation. Or any foundational law describing the laws you supposedly get to decide."
"Um…" He blinks. "That's weird. I know what they do, I just don't know why they do what they do."
She pokes his forehead. "Nothing's free, not even power. You're my little brother. I'm not here to feed your budding god complex. Come on, let's go see dad."
He looks away and waits for her to walk away a bit. "It's not a complex if it's true," he mutters.
"I heard that."
The corners of his lips twitch in what might as well be a broad grin. She never puts up with his nonsense and never seems to care that he can rewrite the laws of physics on a whim. It makes him love her just a bit more.
He catches up to her. "How do you even plan on getting to father?"
"I don't know, maybe the helicopter parked a kilometre away."
He glares at her in annoyance then looks in the direction she's pointing in. There are collapsed buildings in the way, but he can see through them and finds the helicopter just shy of a kilometre away on a patch of ground freed up by a fallen building.
They walk down the road, or at least the half that hasn't collapsed, in silence. There are people working on them, a group of five young men clearing the rubble. Shouto waves and they wave back fondly. Given that he's paying them in transmuted silver for their work, he fully expects them to be grateful. They're not the only team he has working like this. There are dozens more across the city.
Singlehandedly, he's keeping entire families fed and helping towards the restoration in a way being a hero never would. He's seen the reports and knows that the remaining heroes are practically useless in their occupations. There aren't many people trying to take advantage of the chaos. No, most people are either helping with reconstruction or trying to survive.
Ensuring secure supplies of food and water are more important than stealing a TV when there's no power to run it. Stopping a petty crime is a waste compared to distributing their heavily rationed supplies.
"Do you know what's happened to Touya and Natsuo?" Fuyumui asks when they're in the air.
He shakes his head. "I checked Natsuo's school. He's not dead, at least. Left a quick letter that he's looking for his girlfriend. Did you know he had a girlfriend?"
She shakes her head. "Well, he walked out of the house and barely talks to us, so no. And Touya?"
Shouto shrugs. "No idea. He never really stayed in one place for more than a few weeks. I can't even tell if he's in the country."
They speak quietly for the next hour. He learns that she's running the school after gathering the remaining teachers and turning it into a daycare of sorts. It frees up so many people to help with the reconstruction that they're receiving funding and supplies from Detnerat—which Shouto is certain belongs to the League but anyone who helps gets a free pass as far as he's concerned—and Fuyumi just might be the most popular person in their prefecture.
The helicopter lands on a ship in the middle of Sagami Bay. It's a large thing bristling with massive guns and bearing the scars of their previous conflict. He can see a large rip on the deck from a piece of ordinance just skimming the surface. Interestingly, he can see the echoes of Fumikage's power on this ship, immaterial chains running along the hull.
They are greeted by a man in full regalia when they step out. The man has blunt features and looks like he hasn't slept in the last three weeks. The crew hastily trying to repair the damage to the ship look just as tired.
"Shouto and Fuyumi Todoroki. I'm Vice Admiral Kadomatsu. Let's go see your father."
The vice admiral turns on the spot and walks away quickly. Fuyumi struggles to keep up which makes Shouto snort. She elbows him in annoyance.
"Aren't you too important to be acting like a guide?" Fuyumi asks, and whilst she is curious, mostly it's to get the man to slow down.
"Your father is our greatest threat deterrent. Your brother is just as important. I'd rather not risk someone needlessly antagonising strategic assets."
Shouto sees Fuyumi tense. "They're not weapons."
"As you say," the admiral says blandly. "Reports from the camp attack indicate your ice has healing properties. We'd like to make use of them."
The soldiers on the way salute their vice admiral. All of them are armed and look more stressed the further they walk. Some even are openly crying.
"Casualty reports," the admiral explains. "When people can get news of their families, it's usually not good."
"What's the body count at?"
"Officially, two million. More accurately, it's predicted at six million by the end of the week. The number will rise to over ten million in the coming weeks."
Shouto takes that news in stride, not caring much for it. But it leaves his sister upset so he takes her hand and squeezes tightly. She sends him a soft smile.
They enter the hospital wing of the ship and only now does Shouto see the injured. There are so many of them on every surface possible.
Shouto knows what Izuku would do in this situation. His friend would try to help. Shouto could care less but he'd rather be able to say he did everything he could when he sees Izuku. It will make things a lot better.
"I think dad can wait," Fuyumi says softly. "Admiral, will you let him work?"
"If it saves my men and women, then yes, God yes."
He walks towards the first body, a woman with white hair and breathing heavily. He looks with his right eye and finds the lung injury. He lays a hand over her torso gently. Carefully, he generates a lattice of ice where the injury is. Through it, he reverses entropy and returns her lung to a healthier state. And just to be nice, he fixes up a few problems that would normally develop in a few years.
Her breathing evens out and her pained sleep ends. She won't wake up for a few hours, but she'll be alive by the time he's done."
He stands, cracking his neck. "How many people are injured?"
"We've retrofitted half the ship as a medical hospital."
Shouto sighs. "Let's make a deal. I heal all of them and you send them to help with reconstruction."
"We were going to do that anyway."
"Starting with Mustafu," he specifies.
"Shouto," his sister chastises.
"You're rather self-serving."
"Yes. And?"
The vice admiral frowns. "Get to work, then."
It takes him the next six hours to get to everyone. One person doesn't take more than five minutes on average, but some are injured much worse than others. He comes to learn much more about the human body than he ever wanted to. In all honesty, there is nothing beautiful about it. It is just a sack of flesh and fluids and inefficient evolutionary adaptations. That might be why he starts experimenting with their genomes, altering something here and unlocking a different evolutionary path there.
At some point, Fuyumi organises people based on the severity of injuries. He doesn't know when she does that, all he knows is that she's directing him from one area to another. She forces him to stop and eat at some point.
"I'm fine," he says, and really, he is. Shouto has dealt with surviving in the abyss on a mix of ice and the occasional godling's heart.
"I'm not going to ask again."
He takes the ration roughly and bites into it. Then he burns it with godflame in his mouth, so he doesn't have to taste it, before doing the same to the rest.
"There. You happy?"
"You're a brat."
Eventually, once he's dealt with a few hundred people and probably made more than a few of them believe in God, he's allowed to see his father.
Half his body is burnt to a crisp. Shouto can see the damage through the bandages with his right eye and it doesn't look good. There's a drip feeding him with powerful opiates. Somehow, his father's burning rage lets him stay awake through the pain.
"Hello, father. I saw you get beaten down. That was entertaining."
His father glares. "Wh—" Endeavour grits his teeth when that tugs at his scars.
This may very well be the best day he's had in a long time. He pokes his father's bandages which makes the man hiss in agony.
"This was done through hellfire. You tithed your own flesh to the image of yourself. Rather an odd application of those flames. I'll have to look into it."
"Do something," his father groans out. "Or get out."
Shouto rolls his eyes in annoyance. A coating of frost covers half his father's body. The nature of the injury naturally wants to fight him, naturally wants to stay as it is. Shouto glares at it and rewrites the laws of hellfire.
Slowly, he observes as his father's muscle and fat return, thread by thread. Once Shouto is done, none of the burn scars remains. Admittedly, he could have down something about the many deep cuts but he's not that nice. Endeavour is functional and that's all that matters.
His father sits up and burns away the bandages. He observes his arm, checking it for issues clinically. Then, Endeavour gets out of bed. Even in a hospital gown, he looks imposing.
"Where are you going?"
"There's work to do. Without All Might, I'm the strongest."
Shouto exhales sharply. "Sure, strongest hero maybe. Definitely not the strongest person."
"Stop being an ass and get out of my way, boy."
He obliges his father, stepping aside as his dad stalks past him.
"Oh, by the way, mum's back."
Endeavour freezes up. "What?"
"I thought about not telling you but then I realised that wouldn't be fair to her."
"Somehow, touching the flame that birthed creation made you an immature smartass."
Endeavour grabs the sweatpants and throws them on, followed by the grey shirt. It's two sizes too small for him, but then, most things are.
They walk out of the room together.
"Fuyumi."
"Father."
"Awkward reunion," Shouto adds, grabbing Fuyumi by the shoulder. He does the same to his father, startled that he's nearly as tall as the man.
He grins at the vice admiral just like Izuku would, all fire and sharp teeth and the birth of creation.
"Don't forget our agreement."
"I won't. Endeavour, we need to speak."
Shouto gives the man an apologetic smile. "No can do. We have an awkward reunion to suffer through. Also, you got the wrong deterrent."
In a flash of black flame, they're gone.
-TDB-
Fumikage Tokoyami spends his time dealing with one issue or another. With Maya missing and many of the senior members dead, he is the highest ranked member of her arm of the Imperial household. It falls to him to organise dozens of people and give them new assignments, to send letters to the families of the dead, and to navigate the internal politics of the household.
Itinerant proves invaluable through it all. The man may be brusque to Fumikage, but he at least has enough sympathy not to let him drown in the new duties he holds.
"I don't even know what this means," Fumikage says, setting down a paper with a message written in a cypher.
Itinerant glares at him. Then he looks at the paper.
"Use cypher code 6-B. The decryption cypher name is always found in the header and footer of a document."
That only helps so much. It takes him a few minutes to decrypt the document and by then, there are more than a dozen other documents he needs to deal with.
"With Izanami MIA, and two members of the Guard dead, you're tapped to become the next member of the Guard," Itinerant says after sending a message. "You certainly have the power and you'll be ready for the duties associated with it."
Fumikage sighs. "I have no interest in protecting the Emperor."
"But you will kill at his command."
"I didn't."
Itinerant raises one perfect eyebrow. "You sunk ships and set your beasts on people. Do you really think they lived miraculously?"
A part of him is aware of that. Yet, the circumstances had been different. Japan had been at war within and without. Fumikage fought to defend Japan's sovereignty against a Chinese invasion. Is that not a moral and just cause? Can killing not be forgiven if its for the right cause.
You've learnt to lie to yourself well.
That stings, but he doesn't let his feelings show. "I have no interest in serving your Emperor."
"He's your Emperor as well. She took you to see our great secret. That makes you one of us now."
It hurts to admit, but now, after a war, he understands the importance of having deterrents as powerful as the Imperial Heir. His powers had stopped the devastation of All For One's attacks from being cataclysmic. His powers had made the wave that sunk the rest of the Chinese fleet which had saved Japan further. A few million dead compared to over forty million at the most conservative estimates. And, if he's being honest, he couldn't give two shits about Taiwanese people who died three decades ago.
He sighs but continues reading reports. One mentions that the children he looked after are now alone with the death of their caretaker a few hours ago. He closes his eyes but assigns them to be transferred to the Villa in a few days. For now, the security teams can deal with them.
"Taking the role means power. With All For One gone and most of the top heroes dead, we're the strongest quirk force in Japan. You can make genuine changes."
"Still not interested."
"Tell me why, at least."
"Because if I accept this role then it means she's dead and not coming back. I know she's not."
Itinerant stays silent for a beat. "You need to accept—"
"I refuse to accept that future," Fumikage says, cutting him off. "I would know if she died. The chains binding us together still exist."
"If you say so. There are two empty roles with Oberon and Loki dead. You could take those."
"Itinerant, enough."
They speak no more on the matter. As the days progress, Fumikage becomes more familiar with the protocols of the household when not in war. Despite how informal and lax they can be, there is a procedure for just about everything and paperwork associated with it.
He speaks to the Emperor only once in the man's vast office. Only one member of the Royal Guard, a woman he's yet to speak to, is with him compared to the six on the day Fumikage was inducted. The Emperor speaks bluntly, requiring status updates without embellishment.
"My crows are supplementing the abyssal detection teams," he says after an hour of mundane speak. "As far I understand, half the equipment used for that was destroyed by the war."
The Emperor nods once. "Is there anything more?"
Fumikage shakes his head. "No."
"We are pleased with your work, Inquisitor. You do us a great service and we will remember your actions. Dismissed."
It is later in the evening when an aide bursts into his room, uniform dishevelled and sweating. Fumikage frowns, realising he'll have to up the physical training of the secondary staff if they're this unfit.
"We found her."
He's out of bed in a flash.
"Where?" he demands.
They're keeping her body in an armed facility on the outskirts of the Villa. Fumikage walks past people taller than him and comes face to face with Izanami of the Royal Guard entombed in a metal coffin.
"Leave," he commands.
"But—"
He is not like Shouto who is an eternal flame or Izuku who is endless darkness. His is the power of disparity, the twilight hour or the first moments of dawn. But he is also total and complete domination. There are dozens of chains that bind him, and if he chooses, the weight of the invisible chains binding everyone can be crushing.
Everyone in the facility suddenly finds themselves weighed down, being pulled down by an invisible burden.
"I gave an order. I expect it to be followed."
He lets the weight fade and suddenly they can stand tall again. Thankfully, no one is willing to push him on the matter and soon enough he is alone.
Fumikage looks at the metal vessel concealing Maya and feels a pang of sadness. She was the one who gave him his freedom, gave him his blades and showed him the true fight. She gave him power and wealth and affection freely. No, there was a cost to it all and that cost was his ideals. A fair trade.
He summons the remainder of the crows in his soul, the rest spread across Japan. Only five of them remain and they float above him, observing their master silently.
"Consume only the metal," he orders and knows they will obey without hesitation.
Carefully, they shred through layer after layer of metal. There's a possibility it is her physical form trapped in there and he refuses to let her be harmed.
Slowly, the crows whittle down the metal coffin. A thousand beams of hardlight escape the metal shell. A few hit him in the chest, but he's strong enough to ignore them. He doesn't pay attention to the destruction caused by the hardlight beams.
Right now, he's too busy looking for the right shaft of light. He closes his eyes, searching for the chain that binds them together.
There, he thinks and tugs at the metaphysical bond between them.
The golden beam suddenly solidifies and becomes Maya Yotsuba. He smiles at her as she looks around, eyes scanning everything wildly.
"Hello."
She stares at him, dumbstruck. Then, in a burst of purely human speed, she hugs him suddenly.
"Thank you. I nearly… I nearly lost myself. I was light for too long and I wasn't me anymore." She looks lost, terrified. "You saved me more than you know."
"We made an oath. You have taught me and protected me." He relaxes in her grip. "I am your Inquisitor."
"What the fuck took you so long?"
Fumikage only chuckles.
-TDB-
Izuku watches the reconstruction efforts from the safety of his home. Every news network is playing the battle between All Might and All For One. They're showing All For One systematically decimate the top ten heroes, create hurricanes and generate earthquakes. They show one man wage war and winning until the very last moment.
He hates looking up his name because there's just so much information available. He even has a Wikipedia page, now. Who is Izuku Midoriya? There are a thousand different answers. Some call him a hero, some a villain, many a revolutionary in the making, and those are just the reasonable ones. He's supposedly on every end of the political spectrum, a proponent of unchecked capitalism and a firm disciple of Marxism. It makes no sense that he has no control over who he is. Everyone has a different idea of who he should be and what he should be doing.
More than anything, Izuku just wants to sleep and fade to obscurity.
"He killed so many," he says from his perch on the roof, a month after the war ended. "Why?"
For you, Mikumo says. He believed you his creature. And so, he chose to kill everyone who held the power to oppose you.
"I thought there might be something good in him. I thought maybe I could change him like I changed Spinner."
He was old and set in his ways. What he did was all he knew. He used the methods of the warlords of the past. He could not adapt to the present where All Might reigned, nor could he force a future with his means. You represent the culmination of his life's work.
"Why? I'm never going to be a villain. I want things to change, but why would he die for me?"
Children are a chance to do better. Legacies are simply another way to have children. He placed his hopes and dreams in you to create a world where brothers don't fight brothers, and a little girl in a sunflower dress can grow to be happy. To give you the best chance, he killed them all and made himself the greatest villain. When he saw that even All Might could not win, he summoned you to end it all and solidify your mythos. When you stand against injustice, they will see a man refusing a world which created that villain. He martyred himself for you, brother, and they will never know.
"That doesn't make him good."
No, it does not. But he knew his faults. He lived life with rules that he broke only for you. All For One will never be good or decent, but he tried with his broken means. And when he learnt those means failed, he asked you to try something he could not. He entrusted you to make something beautiful out of his shattered faith and broken dreams.
"He gave up."
Is accepting your failings so wrong? There was grace to those failings, nobility and honour behind his intent. His acts were vile, but they were all he knew. And now he is dead, and all that he was, he entrusted to you. He entrusted you with his strength and with his legacy. You must choose the future you want to see.
He considers that, considers the weight of everything now resting on his shoulders. A long time ago, it seemed so easy. Be a good hero and fight villains. It became more complicated so early. One girl and a police officer who changed his path, getting to know Shouto and discovering Endeavour's crimes, seeing Aizawa fail him time and time again. Stain who taught Izuku to see the truth for himself and choose a path to the future. Learning about Nana Shimura and having All Might acknowledge Izuku's desire to change society had diverted his path even more.
Most of all, meeting All For One had recontextualized everything he knew. The great villain who saw two centuries of history, who witnessed Hero battle and spoke to Hawkmoon as an equal had forced Izuku to consider things differently. The greatest villain of this era who was once a vigilante, a man who brought stability through force to both Japan and western Canada. A man who was betrayed by his brother and who waged a war for centuries.
Izuku can't ever forgive him for what he did. He loathes the villain, hates all that the villain did and justified away, every moment of cruelty and villainy inexcusable in his mind. But, deep in his heart, he knows he respects All For One and wants to make a world where that villain isn't necessary.
"Hey," Izuku says, patting a spot next to him. "I'm surprised you got through the security so well."
The shadow that's been watching him for the past few minutes approaches.
Shuichi Iguchi, the former villain Spinner, and perhaps Izuku's first follower, sits down heavily. He's wearing the same armour as always underneath a dark jacket with a deep hood to hide his features.
"They're good but I've dealt with tighter security."
"Or maybe my father added you to the approved list."
Spinner exhales sharply. "Maybe."
"Have you heard of the Lightning Bolts?"
"Yeah. I've been following them these last few days. They're… I didn't know you had other disciples."
Izuku shrugs. "I never told them what to do. I've only ever met one of them."
"But they—"
"They made me a legend, not a person. I've become a concept to them, an ideal to follow. One day I'll deal with them. Can't have people using my name when I don't know how they'll go about achieving their future."
"I'll keep monitoring them where I can."
"What happened to the Vanguard?" Izuku asks.
Shuichi looks to him and there is a flash of uncertainty. "I fulfilled one last request."
"If I asked, would you tell me where they are?"
Shuichi swallows nervously. He stays silent for a long, tense minute.
"Yes," Shuichi settles on. "Would you go after them?"
"I don't think there's a reason to other than revenge. And that's just not worth it."
"Every life is precious. When we forget that, we forget our humanity."
His smile comes unbidden and there is genuine warmth to it. Spinner watches him uncertainly, but that fades away at Izuku's electrifying smile.
"'I have taken many lives, and each is a greater burden to bear as I age. From the boys swayed by rousing words to the jaded old men struggling to keep their children fed, each life matters. When we forget this simple fact, we cast aside our humanity.' That was the full quote from the great Yui Ikari whom Hawkmoon eclipsed. I much prefer her to Dylan Salvatore. Perfection is impossible for people to reach."
"You're not perfect," Shuichi says, nervously. Izuku nods at him encouragingly. "I don't think he meant we should be perfect, but that we should try. If we strive towards perfection, then our moral failings and blemishes can be ignored. We only truly fail when our effort falls short of our moral limit, but the blame decreases the closer we get to our moral limit. So long as we try to be perfect, we can be forgiven for not being good enough."
Izuku laughs joyously. "I didn't think I'd ever heard something optimistic out of Dylan Salvatore's philosophy. Thank you, for showing me that."
"You're welcome. Thank you for giving me another chance."
"Keep Kouta safe. No matter what, watch over him, alright?"
Shuichi nods. "Do you think he'll ever forgive me for my role in things?"
Izuku shrugs. "Can you forgive yourself?"
Shuichi stays silent. Together, they watch the night turn to dawn, red and purples streaks across the sky. Perhaps it is a sign, a reminder to move forward.
And when the sun has risen, Shuichi says, "Ask me again if I'm alive ten years from now. I'll be watching you when you speak."
Izuku sighs. "The funeral. I don't know if I'm ready."
"All you have to do is try. Speaking about a man you respect can't be harder than converting your enemy."
"No, it isn't."
There is no excuse when he thinks of it like that. In the afternoon, he wears the best suit he owns, one his father went all the way to Italy for. He gives up with the tie almost immediately. When he's ready, he heads towards the site of the great funeral for All Might, exactly a month after the hero fell in battle.
The burial ground overlooks the barren wasteland from Japan's first villain attack in the Dark Ages. It overlooks the mass grave markers to those who died alone and forgotten, the place where Hawkmoon was buried only three decades ago.
It is a relatively private ceremony, not open to the public. The coffins had been driven by a full procession across a road hastily fixed just for this moment.
Now, at the end of the journey, they prepare to bury the greatest hero of this era. There are dozens of officials from the Prime Minister to generals and admirals alongside some of the remaining heroes, including Endeavour. Foreign dignitaries, most notably America's ambassador to Japan and many from south-east Asia. Notably, there isn't a single hint of Chinese presence.
Even the Emperor is here today, he and his remaining Royal Guard. Izuku meets Fumikage's eyes in that sea of white and offers him what amounts to a smile.
The most important, however, are the many UA students given precedence today. This is the burial of All Might and the UA students who died in the war alongside him. Today, they will be honoured for their actions.
The speeches are long and, in many cases, completely uninspired. Too many of them are filled with politics and wholly unsuited for a day that should be auspicious. Even now, this early, they look for more power and insult Toshinori Yagi's memory.
He wishes he had the strength to speak to his classmates, but he is too terrified of breaking if he speaks to them. A lot of the terror is seeing the disappointment in Kirishima's eyes or the raw grief that Ojiro carries. Those feelings aren't things he's ready to deal with.
Not today, at least.
He doesn't want to speak. The last few weeks have been a cycle of pain and more pain. He can accept the physical and psychological pain the League inflicted upon him. That is nothing. He has faced much worse.
But the pain in his soul is something different. He thought taking a life would be the worst thing he would experience. Losing his friends is so much worse.
He thinks of Shinsou, his first friend and the first of his peers he willingly told the truth to. He remembers every dry joke and kind word they shared. He thinks of how much Shinsou cared for Ochaco and wonders if one day they might have had children. Would they have Shinsou's hair or Ochaco's soft features? Would they be a perfect mixture of the two? Or would their children look nothing like their parents? Most of all, he thinks of the favour he owes her and will never have the chance to repay.
Asui was the one he knew the least. Blunt and hilarious in equal measure, she was the one reminded them all to have fun. Most of all, she had a strong moral fibre that was never compromised. He wishes he could have known her better, wishes he could have been kinder and shown more interest in her.
Iida is gone as well. He was always the most diligent of them all, the least likely to make a joke but someone you could rely on. Iida who mourned the passing of his brother badly but became a better person in the process. And it absolutely crushes Izuku to think that Iida chose to sacrifice his life as a true hero would.
They are being buried beside All Might. They and all the other students who fell to the League.
The dozens of coffins represent UA students just as All Might was. And in death they are dressed in their hero costumes, posthumously graduated from the institute and granted hero licences. All because they sacrificed their lives for others. All because they chose to do good.
He names them as they are buried, refusing to, even for a moment, forget who they were. Human life is precious, weak and fragile, but all the more beautiful for its flaws. It is worth fighting for, and the first battle is never letting the dead be forgotten.
Hanta Sero.
Neito Monoma.
Itsuka Kendo.
Setsuna Tokage.
Manga Fukidashi.
Yosetus Awase.
Togaru Kamikari.
Too many gone. Students who committed one crime that they paid the price for. Their only crime choosing to try and better themselves, and better the world by being heroes, and this is the price they paid.
More and more he understands why All For One would refuse to kill children, regardless that he broke that oath at the very end. The grieving parents, the mourning siblings, and the grandparents wondering what went wrong whilst they lived out their twilight years.
Aizawa is gone, murdered in school by parties unknown. Izuku regrets the last words they shared, bitter and angry and full of mistakes. But no matter how bad it was, he never wished for things to end like this.
And now they expect him to be strong and speak at the funeral of this great legend and those whose time was cut short. They ask him to be better than he has the strength to be.
They ask the boy who carried his corpse to speak for All Might. They ask the boy who was there when the war began and was there at the very end to speak. Izuku Midoriya, the most famous and controversial teenager alive.
He takes a long minute on the podium, throat dry and eyes stinging with tears. All he wants is to say goodbye to his friends he couldn't protect, those who died trying to save him, and those he never knew better.
"It's hard standing here and talking," he says slowly, his voice scratchy. "How do you talk about someone who defined an era? How do you talk about the greatest hero of our time? You know him as All Might, the Pillar of Society. You've spoken about his deeds and the impact of his legacy."
Izuku wipes his eyes before he starts crying because they haven't. They've tried to use that legacy for their own ends.
"I knew him as Toshinori Yagi. And I think he… he would want me to talk about the man beneath the legend. He told me once that he smiled because it was the legacy he inherited from the hero he respected most, Nana Shimura the Brave. Because when he smiled, he could save a person's soul as well.
"He wasn't that happy. He wasn't a cheery man. To be a pillar is a great burden and it weighed heavily on him. Very often when we spoke, he would be melancholic and doubt himself, and whether he lived up to the legacy of his mentor. He mourned for her just as we do a loved one and carried his grief for years. He feared failure as much as any person. He was tired and weary, beaten down by the weight of his own legend. And if I'm being honest, he wasn't the best teacher in the world."
He looks at the crowd, very many horrified and stunned by his admissions. Bakugou whose anger is gone and replaced by cold grief. Momo, the one he rescued, who bows her head somberly. Kirishima who only glares at him, disappointed even more.
"He was a flawed man who made many mistakes. Had he been faster and more determined, perhaps I wouldn't stand here with my face scarred. Had he been resolved and unwavering, perhaps much of the destruction from the war wouldn't have occurred. Toshinori Yagi made those mistakes because he was human, just as you or I. The burden was greater because we only saw his symbol. One flawed man carried us all on his shoulders and we never once noticed."
Izuku forces a grin, thinking of his great teacher and his failings. He accepts all that All Might could have done better, and realises that all of the mistakes he was willing to forgive as a broken boy are still mistakes he is willing to forgive now.
He accepts those mistakes and lets them wash away. That acceptance soothes a part of his soul still raw from the last few weeks, eases his pain and guilt if only for a moment. It is the same absolution and forgiveness his mentor would give without question.
Today, Izuku will give the world the same absolution.
"He was also the greatest man I knew," he says, voice strong and clear. "He never let his fears stop him. He learnt from his failings and became a better teacher. He worked harder than anyone I've ever met to protect us. He wasn't a hero for fame or wealth. He was a hero because he wanted to save people with all his heart. For Toshinori, he would go the distance for any stranger and hold the line no matter the cost. He never asked that you stand as tall as he could or fight as long. All he is asked is that you tried. And if you failed, he would carry you on his back and teach you to be stronger. When he failed, he would do his best to do right by you."
He's crying now, openly and unashamed. None of this is easy, to tell the truth of the man he respected more than anyone else.
"All Might may have been the greatest pillar we could ask for. But Toshinori was the greatest teacher we never knew we needed. We took for granted the fact that he would be here forever. And I… we…"
He takes a deep breath and centres himself. He refuses to break and dishonour his mentor.
"The last words he spoke were something I thought to keep private. But I am not the only one who mourns. This was the last lesson he will ever teach. Listen close and engrave these words in your soul."
He points at them. Points at Bakugou and Ashido and Ojirou and the entire world. He looks at them and they look at him, and through him, they see the grand spectre of All Might's legacy, one built upon centuries of history.
"Hold your head up high and smile. You are next. Walk forward and you will meet the sun."
He doesn't know who claps first. Maybe Ojiro or maybe his mother, maybe Kouta or maybe Bakugou. All he knows is that he walks down the stage to thunderous applause. The cheers don't make him proud but maybe, just maybe, if he can give hope to one person, then that is more than enough.
He takes his seat between Kouta and his mother. He accepts the comfort they offer gladly. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart.
"Goodbye, Toshi."
-TDB-
Izuku leaves the funeral the first moment he can, tired of facing people. They all want to speak to him, to offer condolences or congratulate him or try to impose some sort of power over him. It's sickening and fills him with anger.
Somehow, his steps lead him to the beach where it all began. The pier is broken in half and the seawall collapsed. It doesn't matter. This place always brings a measure of peace to his heart.
He sits on the jagged edge of what remains of the pier. It creaks dangerously so he makes support pillars out of darkness, not shadow, but true darkness.
Perhaps he's run away from it, not truly willing to face the magnitude of the truth. When he used shadows, it was part of a lie that Izuku Midoriya was just a boy, odd and perhaps tainted, but a boy. Now, he's willing to accept that darkness that is his right, the eternal foundation of the abyss and the darkness that permeates it.
If nothing else, he doesn't want to be a pale imitation of the legacy that came before him. He'll be darkness in truth, not a washed-out shadow.
"I wanted to say goodbye to you here without the world watching," he says to the dead. "This is where I got my powers. It seems so long time ago. Funny that I always come back here."
Is this the path you wish to walk, brother mine?
Izuku nods, inhaling the sharp smell of salt and death. The endless blue calms his skittish heart. He reaches out, trying to grasp the ocean in his hands. All he wishes some days is to let the waves take him.
"This is where my journey began, and I hope I get to see it before the end. I never got to know you very long, but I wish I could have met you years earlier and learnt more from you. Maybe I could have shown you a different road to walk. You've taught me a lot about myself and about the world. You were honest where others weren't, and you were uncompromising in your beliefs."
He thinks of those in the military, his enemies to come one day. He'll never accept a junta and knows he can never accept another heroics industry built on a corrupt foundation. Everything needs to change from the ground up. And sometimes, burning everything down and starting again is the easiest way.
The future was placed in his hands. As he looks to the sparks of green running along his scarred fingers, he knows the future will be filled with lightning.
"You entrusted me with too much. I'm tired of it already. Society must change but I'm so fucking tired. I hate you for making me want to be better than you ever were. But I will always respect you."
He reaches into his shadow and removes the broken symbol of his teacher.
"You were a great man even if your legacy will be a hard burden to bear. I promise to surpass you. I hope you're watching the story I'm about to tell."
Make an oath that will reach him even past the barrier of death. Let him hear your conviction.
Izuku considers that. Finds it to be true. Grins a violent grin and musters his energy.
"I am Izuku Midoriya!" he roars to the indifferent waves. "The future belongs to me!"
Making that declaration saps him of whatever strength he had. That single moment where he could forget the past disappears beneath the bleak reality of the present. The loneliness and the heavy burden of his legacy crash down on him.
He inhales and lets the dead heart within him come to life. The second heartbeat runs in the space between the beats of his first.
And so, here where it all began, he says his final words to the teacher he knew the least.
"Stormwind wasn't a villain. She was a tyrant who brought peace that lasted for centuries."
The wind takes the shattered mask. Izuku watches the last memento of the great villain float away, never to be seen again.
"I will never forgive you, but your time is ended. May you rest in peace."