"Was Sun Fist really the best name you could come up with?"
"Was Burnin'? Did you at least get the apostrophe trademarked?"
Green fiery hair lashed out at Izuku's nose but recoiled just shy of scorching his skin. "At least mine doesn't sound like a five-year-old's idea. Surprised you didn't go with The Thousand Sunny with your super moves' names and all."
So he read One Piece, so what? Everyone in Hell had, even those who perished centuries before it was published. Nagini bothered the women in hell simply looking for a Boa to cosplay with. Or bald, noseless men who were "just the right amount of real evil" as that one wizard.
"Coming from the woman who took out a word from her own codename to avoid a Sega copyright dispute, I take all your jabs with a grain of paprika."
"I will send both of you back to the agency in an instant," Endeavor warned, glaring back over his shoulder as he continued stomping down the road and leading them along. "Taking you both out on patrol together was a mistake, in hindsight. I do not plan on making it again tomorrow."
Izuku shrugged lightly and stepped further away from Burnin' as the two followed behind the number one hero. "I'm just happy to hear that there is a tomorrow."
"Maintain this behavior this evening and we will see if that still holds true," the number one hero threatened.
The green-haired teen barely shuddered at the notion of losing his internship, pressing his lips together in a smile and waving at each passersby on the street. Despite the intimidating demeanor of the hero and the risk Izuku put himself in being out with multiple elder entities scattered about Japan, working and learning under the tutelage of Japan's newest greatest hero offered benefits that training at school or in hell did not. With little other fire users (who used their fire, Todoroki, you disappointing twat) to spar against and learn from their perspectives, an agency of predominantly fire-quirked heroes and sidekicks provided insight to handling his own hell-blessed flames in combat. He had only barely started practicing shooting his flames instead of simply coating himself in them, but his father never suggested the idea he could hover and maybe one day fly with them like Endeavor could. Performing it was actually quite simple, in retrospect.
The surface of Life — what his father often referred to Earth as from its creation — was a place Izuku saw as special compared to his home or the stories of Heaven above both. What he could learn, who he could meet, what they had to offer; variety unique to each was offered up, but something about Life's was unmatched. In Hell, everything was set in stone and chains; the rules of the land remained unchallenged for centuries before people were even born with their intelligence. Heaven, from what Izuku could only read in charred scripture or fractured tablets, sounded plain; peaceful but boring, without harm or the possibility of it to arise but without the invitation of adventure or education to fill it.
But on Earth, filled with Life that chose to call their planet Earth? Rules and structure and attitude changed on a dime, and Izuku had barely bore witness to Europe's restructure of society as countries finally joined together as larger bordered land masses while he was six years old. He had learned of humanity's switch on social cues for races, genders, nationalities, and eventually quirk features; and some people's inability to evolve their perspective like everyone else. There was so much adventure to the world, so much possibility to the world, and that was why Izuku wanted to be a hero; because he knew where it was headed next, and he wanted to be the kind of man that could keep it evolving.
A strong breeze rushed around Izuku and the heroes, and the satanic son ignited his flames internally, lighting his body from beneath his skin. "Is the dinner plan for tonight learning how to cook with my flames or do I have to get a license for that first?"
"You don't need one if you do it outside of everyone's vision," Burnin' informed him. "We'll try grilling tomorrow, see if your temperature is good for anything."
The lack of disapproval from Endeavor told Izuku everything he needed to, so he planned his night accordingly. He'd fried eggs on his chest before in the dorms, so he had some experience on the matter. Cooking anything else wasn't his strongest suit in the slightest, but he could consult Google on quick tips and recipes to surprise his judging table of mentors and seniors—
A cloaked figure hovered across the sidewalk silently. His black, raggedy drapes dragged against the wind, and his hood sulked over his head like a veil. His hands of bone and tissue hung limp by his sides, fingers barely twitching as he passed by and through pedestrian after pedestrian like a specter.
Izuku knew a Reaper when he saw one. In Hell, they roamed aimlessly, waiting for their call to arms and ascending to the surface to act. Souls beneath were bothered only by their appearance, solely because a stationed soul mattered not to the purpose of their job. The only purpose they had outside of his father's direct orders. A job Izuku had yet to see them perform with his own eyes. One he didn't want to. Separating life from the living.
"You all right, Sun Fist?" He could hear the female flamed hero ask him, but he moved not to answer her, watching the Reaper glide from across the street. Each passerby shivered involuntarily as he continued down the street. He had a place, and Izuku needed to know where.
"Midoriya—" It was an explosion that cut Endeavor off and turned their three heads to its source and the smoke that bloomed into the air. Civilians on the street cried out in surprise and fear, many running opposite the event's direction while several rushed to witness the commotion; the Reaper amongst them. "Keep up you two," were the hero's simple orders before he blasted into the air propelled by his flames. Burnin' wasn't one to hesitate, speeding along the sidewalk and shouldering civilians as she booked it.
Izuku clenched his fists, flames trailing up his arms from his knuckles. The Reaper continued along, his fingers dancing through the people's screams. Death was not a determined point in time, not for anyone. Inevitable, maybe; within a frame of time, maybe. But it was not down to the second, nor the minute, nor the hour or even the day. A Reaper's touch was not designated by the clock, only the moment of. As far as Izuku knew, their job was not immediate.
A life did not have to be given to them willingly.
Izuku shot off the ground to chase after Endeavor in the sky, wobbling to catch his balance and stay afloat as he soared over the traffic. It didn't take him too long to catch up to Burnin', even surpassing her in due time; a minute later, they both were at the scene. A few heroes were already on the scene, consoling civilians and rushing residents out of the apartment shooting flames out its two upper levels. Kamui Woods was rallying together what pros and sidekicks he could, assessing the situation as Izuku and Burnin' finally caught up to him.
And yet the Reaper was already there, standing at the building's entrance as civilian after civilian left untouched by his hands.
Endeavor himself rushed a young couple out the door in his arms, harmlessly passing through the cloaked soul into the middle of the street. "Is anyone still left in the building?" he shouted out to the heroes aiding him.
The crocodile-headed woman (Ammit, Izuku knew her name, mostly because of the lawsuit Egypt filed upon her debut across the sea) handing off a young boy to his mother turned her snout to answer the hero, "That's everyone from beneath the top two floors. We've only gotten everyone living beneath and whoever's run down from those floors." Izuku looked around to count the heads of twelve citizens covered in soot and ash. "There may still be people caught in the fire above."
That, Izuku knew was true, because the Reaper did not move from the building's entrance. He didn't spare a glance or a swipe at any other survivor or hero, which meant none of them were near death. Which meant someone inside was still at risk; someone else was the target.
And then the Reaper moved inside.
Endeavor looked to the fire above and grunted. "I'll search inside for any—Sun Fist!"
Izuku was one step ahead of him, launching into the air with a single blast from his feet and crashing through one of the two intact windows left on the entire top floor. He hissed at the glass that cut through and pierced into his skin, but the half-devil simply flexed the shards out with a small plume of his flames; he would heal just fine. More was at stake.
Flames coated the walls of the apartment and bled into the hallway he burst into, dually coated in an abundance of smoke. What a useful gift, Izuku thanked his father internally, before he took in a giant gasp of air, and with it began to inhale the smoke and fire around him. His body shone like a christmas tree as he quelled the heat within him, blowing out as steam from his mouth and nose upon exhaling.
"That was reckless, Midoriya." Endeavor appeared beside him not a moment later, scolding down on him. "Heroes move with coordination. What were you thinking?"
"That we're both fire retardant and life perseverants," Izuku answered him simply, knocking his knuckles into flimsy doors and opening up rooms. "Can anyone hear us! We're heroes; we're here to get you out!"
"Do not worry," Endeavor announced after him, putting a hand on the young teen's shoulder and pulling him back for the pro hero to take the lead. "You'll be leaving here alive." His face scrunched a moment, in disgust and conceedence. "We are here."
Before Izuku could ask why he was so hurt from having to say one of All Might's famous mottos, a man stumbled out of a room from the other end of the hall. His hair decorated with a yellow bolt stuck to his face from the heat, and his checkered shirt and dress pants looked drenched in sweat but otherwise unharmed by the smoke and fire. The man simply covered his mouth in a scarf to keep his lungs safe, but he still staggered to stay on his own two feet as the heroes approached him.
"We've got you, sir," Izuku greeted him, arms outstretched to catch him. "We're going to get you—"
A spark bounced from the man's pocket, where one hand hid, stuck beneath the cloth. His other hand reached back to Izuku, fingertips dancing with blue bolts. Before he knew it, the hell-spawn had flown back across the hall from a strong shock of electricity tearing the front of his body apart.
"Two for the price of one," the man muffly cheered beneath his mask. "This was meant for Endeavor's appearance, but I guess removing another hero from the scene couldn't be better." Izuku withered on the ground as his skin and flesh burned off the charred marks from the attack and regrown themselves beneath the smoke, but he could still roll his eyes up to find the new top hero staggered behind him and struggling to shake off the blast he had shared with the teen.
The villain stalked past Izuku, stopped by his head to point his sparking palm down at the green-haired teen's face. "Shigaraki sends his regards—"
Izuku's feet blasted into an arc before the villain's attack could fire, swatting his hand aside and spinning the teen into the air. His other foot came the long way around smacking the bare top across the man's face, and while Izuku twisted his body in the air his first foot came thrusting into the man's side, with a blast of crimson fire from his heel shooting the villain into the adjacent burning room. The teenager landed on his feet with the grace of the Hindenburg, which meant he just found himself back on the floor where he started with a resounding smack.
"Fffuuu," Izuku groaned as he peeled himself off the ground. Tucking away a note to practice that movement another time, he focused primarily on the villain whose life was in danger and who was endangering others. Even if this was who the Reaper was after, he couldn't let him die; criminals needed real punishment faced in the world, or else nothing good was learned from a disaster. Even if the man was destined for Hell, at least Izuku wouldn't let the world become one. Why ruin a good Life like that?
Another barrage of bolts struck his right side, blasting him through a door and into the smoke-filled room adjacent to the villain's. Izuku hissed as his skin crumbled away to reveal his charcoal form beneath, but the electric criminal either didn't notice or didn't care and simply laughed at his withering form anyways. "You're quite a quick kid, for someone I don't recognize. But you're still no match for—"
Instead of Izuku's fire interrupting the man, it was Endeavor's Big Flaming Tackle Through The Wall that cut the villain's speech short, shooting both men out of Izuku's sight, and leaving the teen alone to recover without distraction—
"H-help."
Izuku twisted his body sharply, curling his head back to look across the smoke-hazed room, and finding a small, yellow-eyed girl hiding beneath a pile of clothes in the closet. A child no older than five drowning in covers to hide from the heat and soot, too afraid to run away and yet left behind while everyone else had escaped?
The Reaper wasn't after the villain, was he?
The teenager flipped himself over to his stomach, pushing himself up through the pain of his healing body and crawling over the girl's way. "Hey, hey," he consoled her, waving his good hand at her in greeting. "It's all right. I'll help you."
"M-m-mon—"
"Not a monster," he quickly denied her claim. He dragged his good hand over his face and focused his healing factor to coat his skin back on while his hand covered the process. "I'm a hero. Just took a bad hit, but I'll be right back on my feet. I'm going to get you out of here, okay? I'm here to save you."
The young girl was hesitant to trust him, sitting solidly under her clothing pile and with one sleeve pressed over her mouth. He stretched out his hand, holding it still before her and holding himself in place with the softest smile he could offer. Even with most of his skin regrown and his pants holding on to cover his modesty, he knew his horns were visible where his hair struggled to regrow its cover. He was going to drag her out forcefully if he had to, but winning her trust first was the only way he was getting her out alive. The more she trusted him, the easier it would be to get her out of the Reaper's reach.
It wasn't until he truly locked eyes with her that the young girl chose to trust him, reaching back to him slowly and allowing him to pull her out of the pile. He took one of the shirts with her, wrapping it around the lower half of her face. "Keep that on," he told her. "The smoke is still around." He held the girl tightly to his chest, cradled in his arms, guiding her out the room—
The Reaper stood in the doorway, his towering height fitting through the door frame as a blockade against Izuku's escape plan. The teenager had met the hooded figures many times in Hell — spent many hours by their side while his father toured him through the seven layers and the Border Between — but not once was Izuku scared of them. Not until now had Izuku seen one on a mission — watched as they hunted a soul nearing death's door. Not until now had he heard one try to speak, creaks and groans vibrating from their bony jaw tethered together by strings.
Not until now did Izuku know what kind of power they wielded; fear urging him to forfeit the child's soul.
"The criminal and possible perpetrator has been neutralized," Endeavor's voice announced through the burning rooms. "Both Sun Fist and I are returning back to — we found a child upon the second floor. Bringing her outside now." Izuku could see how the frame illuminated from Endeavor's flames behind the Reaper, but the cloaked creature was unlit — untouched by the light. The pro hero could not see him, only Izuku…
"Who" — the little girl in his arms shook and curled herself together — "is that, mister? In the black?"
…and the little girl too.
Izuku backed away, curling his hands together to trap the child in his hold. The Reaper took a step forward, his hood rising slowly and revealing his white jaw and silver wires. The teen looked back, scoffed at the glass, and gave the Reaper one last glare. "Hold tight," he whispered to the girl, before he bolted to the window.
With a spin and a kick of flames, Izuku crashed through the melting glass and wood, smoke pluming out after them. The child screamed in his arms; he could hear the crowd below exclaim in shock at the sight of him falling through the wind rushing in his ears; he could even hear Endeavor call after him, but Izuku knew they were fine. His feet roared to life, streams of fire and heat bursting down to stall his fall; flickering on and off as to not shoot them both into the sky since he couldn't hover. But soon their descent came to an end, and back on the ground did Izuku find himself.
Right into the Reaper's waiting arms.
Izuku hadn't seen him until he had fallen back to the ground, crouching in his landing just to end up groveling at the ghoul's feet. The Reaper's hand passed through the girl's body between them, catching a ball of light that made her soul without ever damaging her body. The sudden disconnection had the girl shaking suddenly in his clutches, staring up at the Reaper, and up at him, before muttering the word, "Villain," in recognition. And then she stopped. Her eyes glazed over, her mouth dangled open beneath the cloth that offered no protection, and the weight of her body doubled in his arms even though it was now empty.
Izuku looked up to the Reaper closing its hands together around the light ball and tucking it to his chest; a mockery of how the teenager was holding the girl's body. She shouldn't have died.
"Give her back."
The Reaper did not respond to him, nor did he do as the boy pleased. His body lowered to and through the ground, his cloak phasing through the concrete an inch at a time. Why did she, of anyone, have to die?
"Give her back."
"Sun Fist!"
The Reaper continued to lower, his teeth clicking together intangibly, and her soul dipped through the ground with his hands. Why did it have to be a child?
"Where the fuck are you going?!"
"Midoriya!"
The ghoul's head began to sink beneath the earth, his hood rising on its own accord, flashing to Izuku his sunken eyes molded to the curve of his skullish head. What was the point of putting a child on the Earth only to die before they could experience it?
"GET BACK HERE YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"
"Izuku."
The green-haired teen blinked slowly, watching his hands twitch idly in his lap. Nagini coiled around his ankles in a figure eight, grazing his skin as she continued to slither. The cool warmth of her scales contrasted greatly with the scorching hand of his father's on his shoulder.
"Your mother had made dinner," the king of Hell informed him, his tone soft and quiet. "That lasagna from Italy you liked in middle school. And a side of katsudon you always beg for. You should come down before it gets cold."
Izuku didn't respond to his father. His fingers crossed together — cupped his hands in his lap — to hold the empty air in front of him.
"And he still does not speak," his father commented aloud. Izuku watched his crocodile-leather shoes kick lightly into the snake at the boy's feet. "Your encouragement of his isolation doesn't help me. Don't you have Persians to chase and consume?"
"If you can find me three living rats from the surface to outsell his two, I'll budge," Nagini bargained back.
"I'm revoking your surface privileges for the time being, then," the king of Hell reasoned instead, ignoring how she snapped her fangs at him. "You're going to eat murderers and you're going to like it. Now go snack. Leave me and my son."
Nagini hissed at the horned fallen angel but complied, slithering and freeing Izuku's legs as she headed out his bedroom door. The teen's foot brushed against the end of her tail, and it flicked his shoe in response before it followed out with the rest of her body.
"Izuku, you cannot hole yourself in your room forever." His father lowered beside him, coming to sit and rest on his bedside gently. "You are still of human genetics; if you starve yourself, you will turn your body ill."
Izuku turned his head to look the other way. "I do eat," he mumbled back.
"Having a granola bar every meal time isn't eating; it's terrible dieting. And I will figure out where you are hiding them in here." Izuku's lips twitched slightly at his father's light tone, but still he didn't look at him. "You've got three days before your classes start up again. I'm sure I'll figure you out."
Izuku had been home for two days since his patrol under Endeavor's agency. After running in on his own, diving out a window with a child, and punching through the street pavement with a burning fist over a child's corpse while swearing profusely, the agency decided his internship was to end. Endeavor himself showed him the door, passing him off to his mother to drive them to the home that connected Earth and Hell. The fiery hero told Izuku directly that he was not currently fit to be on the field, and even spoke with his mother while the teen waited in the car. He hadn't left his room since returning.
He wasn't just slow to save the girl, he was slow to save the whole family. Her parents had been labeled missing in the news, but reports from other residences could place them as present before the villain used them for a lure so Izuku had a good guess where they were; with each other at least. It was the only hopeful conclusion he had, but it did little to remedy his crushing heart. He could still see two bright yellow eyes fade like a dying sun, every time the memory replayed in his mind.
His father's sigh blew hot air past Izuku's ear, one far hotter than he could muster. "Izuku," he started, coiling an arm behind the teenager and resting his maroon-skinned hand on his shoulder, "you cannot allow death to haunt you like this. We've talked about this; you spend time around the deceased near every day. Your ambitions for heroics is putting you in a position where lives will be at risk right in front of you. I know you know this."
"I know I'm in danger," Izuku confirmed his father's words. "The right quirk or the right weapon could still kill me. I know the villains I fight are in danger of themselves or if anyone goes too far. I know…that people are in danger in the crossfire of fights." He rolled his head back towards his father, staring down at both their feet. "Not children. Not little kids."
His father — in an action that grated Izuku's ears as the heat brushed past him — huffed with an annoyed sway of his body. "Of course children are going to be at risk. Little babies who can't fend for themselves in a plane defined by its mortality are the most liable to die of your mother's species. Death does not give two shits about your age when it's your time. And it certainly won't let your Christian girlfriend slide when her time comes."
Izuku's eyes all but snapped to his father, finding the Devil's face in a stoic frown. "Where did you hear that?"
"Nagini can be bribed easily, but she'll forfeit anything over for live squirrels. An advantage I'm afraid to say I've learned from you. I don't like spoiling a silvertongue."
The green-haired teen agreed, huffing in annoyance and dropping his head in his hands. "She's not my girlfriend…"
"Given the way you were withholding her from me, I thought her devoted belief to my father would have been a more pressing detail to decline. For your information" — his father placed his other hand on Izuku's other shoulder and shook the teenager lightly — "I was excited to hear you have a girlfriend regardless. She can be whatever faith she so pleases, even better if she thinks I'm real when that meeting comes. Saves us the trouble of explaining that."
"Okay, dad, stop, please." Izuku could feel his face heating up as he shrugged off his father's hold and scooted further down his bed. "Can we not bring her up right now?"
"If I knew she'd become someone you'd actually talk to, I wouldn't have to. You won't talk to me, you won't talk to your mother, and you'll even let her famous lasagna go cold because you watched one child die right in front of you." His father had leaped off the bed and moved to stand in front of him, and once again Izuku refused to look him in the eyes. "Billions of humans have passed before their adolescent years before her, and trillions more will end up the same. The nature of Earth is to live and to die, and you do not get to control when the latter of those two comes to claim. No one does. If you want to be a hero that makes their world a better and safer place for them, you need to accept that lives may and will be lost in the process no matter their age."
"And what if I don't want to accept that?" Izuku asked back softly.
His father thought quietly for a moment, before sighing sadly. "Then I don't think you can be a hero. Not if you can't handle it." His father's foot tapped slowly between Izuku's feet, a long silence stretching between them, only broken by his father's inevitable hum. "I'd rather you get up and punch me for saying that than this. You tried to save her, and even if you couldn't it means you cared enough to try regardless. That's heroism your world could use. But not if that fear will leave you still as a statue."
Izuku stayed as his father said, unmoving from his hunched form on his bed, boring holes into his own shoes. His hands hung loosely in his lap, fingers barely twitching.
His father patted his hung head gently, even ruffled his bushy hair as he walked out his bedroom door. "I'll have your mother save you a serving in the fridge. Don't stay up too late." He closed the door behind him, and Izuku was left alone in his room, lit only by the flames of the damned flickering through his window.
He understood death and its need on Earth. While Hell was an impossible place that stretched on truly forever that even his father could never find an end, Earth's space was finite. There was a limit to who could fit where, horizontally and vertically. A limit to how much land could be scorched and regrown and populated and redesigned for living conditions. Somewhere along the way, or maybe even long before it, his grandfather had decided death was a necessity to keep Earth evolving itself.
And still, he could not understand why it took children. Why the youngest and least experienced to the world, with decades ahead of them to explore their world and find themselves a place in helping it continue to grow, could still be lost just the same. If it was true that his grandfather had a plan for everyone, why were kids planned to die young? What was the point in that?
"Can you hear me?" he asked out loud, looking up to his ceiling. "Do you ever? Could you tell me why? What's the point in dying young?"
Silence followed him. Crackling tapped at his window, creaking blew through his home, but no voice came to answer.
"Could you at least tell me why I have to lose a piece of my heart to be a hero?"
I'll include this here because FF doesn't have a note tab like AO3 does.
Apologies for the silence for long, on this and my other works. Turns out life around me made me more depressed than I wanted to admit, and the first step in bettering myself was cutting lose every tie that was more harm than good, even if it came with cutting the good too. Work is putting me in 40 hour weeks now so the free time I wanted is now gone, but what's left is now only filled with what makes me happy. And that includes writing, again, so yay. I get to put something out I like. Woo.
For anyone who specifically only follows me for Metal Bat, and I know a lot of people do and probably won't even see this (which means this is for you special ones who've tried the wacky shit I post) I am continuing everything I write. I'm trying to work on all nine chapter's of Metal Bat's Sports Festival at once so I can tie around background progression to plots in the forefront and planned further down the line, especially involving a few certain someones. I want to continue Starting Point. I want to build Symbol of Hope. I want to return to Dungeon Academia and Alpha!Rad, and I will for everything else too. I can't promise a when and I won't try to. But I can promise a will.
I thank you all for reading this, story and note alike. Next chap here will be directly tied into these events and theme and topic like a few time prior, so do know this ending here is not me sprouting my own belief on the matter through Izuku or his father. Want to try guiding a discussion between the characters about it for something more naturally emotional, and I hope the landing sticks next time. I will see you all again.