Archive of Our Own ^beta

All Might was getting worse.

With the man’s well-honed acting skills, only those closest to him were able to see the signs. But once they noticed, it was obvious. It wasn’t exactly hard to spot the sharpness of his cheekbones, the heavy dark circles under his eyes, his pallid complexion, the way his breath wheezed loudly in his chest, and his constantly trembling hands.

Whenever someone asked him how he was faring, of course, Yagi would brush it off with a sharp grin and a quick ‘I’m a bit under the weather, but I’ve already consulted my doctor! I’ll be right as rain in no time!’

Izuku trusted him, but he also knew Yagi would take the world upon his shoulders if given the chance. Something was obviously wrong. Izuku wanted to stick around, to bug his mentor until the man told him the truth (because Izuku knew he was hiding something, even if he couldn’t quite gauge what it might be), but he was a busy student. He didn’t have time to lurk around his mentor’s house for answers--not to mention the fact he highly doubted All Might would allow that in the first place.

So, he carried on. Weeks went by and All Might was only getting worse. The bags under his eyes somehow got heavier and the painful rattling of his breath got louder and louder. Izuku visited him as frequently as he could, helping around Yagi’s apartment and cooking any meals that Recovery Girl deemed safe for Yagi to eat.

Sitting at the table, snorting as Yagi humorously flicks a grain of sticky rice at his face with a goofy grin, Izuku could almost pretend things were normal. That everything was okay.

He’d curse himself for his negligence later, but in the moment, watching Yagi chuckle with a joyful glimmer in his eye for the first time in months, Izuku couldn’t bring himself to think about anything pressingly negative.

They did the dishes together, as much as Yagi protested Izuku helping, and then curled up on the couch under an itchy wool blanket to watch TV for a while.

Yagi let Izuku choose what they’d watch, then sputtered when Izuku excitedly pulled an old All Might cartoon set from the drawer, immediately going on a fast-paced ramble about the rarity of an undamaged disc from that cartoon series.

With a soft smile, Yagi told Izuku he could have the set. Izuku, startled, tried to argue, going on another rant about the value of the cartoon itself. Yagi only snorted, gently placing his shaking hand on Izuku’s head, stopping the boy’s rant with a gentle look.

“It’s yours, my boy. I have no use for old cartoons about myself… I think you’ll enjoy having it much more than I ever could,” He had said, his expression affectionate, patting Izuku’s messy curls.

Izuku didn’t want to be rude, so he accepted the gift after thanking Yagi probably about a hundred times, on the verge of tears all the while. Yagi just rolled his eyes fondly, patting the couch cushion next to him.

“Put on something to watch and come sit down. There’s no need to thank me. Giving away an old cartoon I never watch is nothing compared to getting to spend quality time with you, Young Midoriya,” Yagi said. He almost looked like he wanted to say something else--like the words out of his mouth meant so much more than he let on-- but he settled for a kind grin instead.

Not wanting to be rude, Izuku only nodded and put on an old horror movie he’d never seen. From the way Yagi perked up, the man seemed to appreciate Izuku’s choice.

Throughout the movie, Yagi would lean over and mutter facts about the actors or the way the movie was written. Izuku would nod, happy to listen to Yagi talk about one of his interests so openly. It was a rare side of him these days, most conversations awkwardly avoiding the subject of Yagi’s health. Izuku was just happy to see him feeling better.

After the movie, Yagi suggested they go to the beach before the sun set. Izuku agreed immediately, excited to visit the place they’d first gotten to know each other.

Pulling off his shoes and walking forward onto the warm sand, Izuku closed his eyes and tilted his face towards the setting sun. He heard Yagi’s soft footsteps behind him, then felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Yagi said.

Izuku opened his eyes, looking over his shoulder at his mentor. “Yeah. I’m glad people stopped dumping garbage around here. I don’t think I have another ten months to spare cleaning it again. Hero work is gonna take up most of my time soon, probably,” He said eagerly.

Yagi was quiet for a moment. “That’s right, isn’t it? You’re in your last quarter of school,” He paused, watching the waves gently push against the sandy shore. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and meaningful. “I’m so proud of you. You’ve come so far in just three years... I can hardly believe it. And you know what? I hope wherever your career takes you, you’re happy. You’re going to be a better hero than I ever was… than I ever could’ve been, my boy.”

Izuku turned fully to face Yagi, tears in his eyes but a shaky smile on his face. “You have no idea how much that means to me, All Might. I don’t think I’ll ever be a better hero than you, but I’ll do my best!”

“I have no doubt you’ll do great things,” Yagi said with a small smile. Izuku tried to push down the twisting feeling in his chest when the expression seemed closer to sadness than pride.

They stayed at the beach for a while longer, sitting with their fingers buried in the cooling sand. They talked about UA, the war, and Izuku’s plans moving forward, drifting from topic to topic with a learned familiarity.

Yagi occasionally pitched in a few words of advice about managing sidekicks and Izuku listened with rapt attention. He wasn’t quite to the level of starting his own agency just yet, but he was already rising quickly on the hero charts so everyone knew it wasn’t too far off.

As the sun sank below the horizon, their conversation trailed off until they were both silently listening to the waves against the sand. Soon, they stood, slipping their shoes back on. Izuku made a joke about not missing the feeling of sand in his clothes and Yagi chuckled, humming a quiet note of agreement.

The walk back to Yagi’s apartment didn’t take long, Izuku walking peacefully beside his mentor and enjoying the quiet streets.

Arriving at the apartment complex, Izuku expected Yagi to pat his head and plan another day to spend time together, but the man just stood there, staring at the building, his expression blank.

“Yagi?” Izuku said, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder.

Yagi’s gaze flicked to Izuku. “Ah, my apologies, got caught up in a memory for a moment,” He said, plastering a sheepish expression onto his face.

Izuku furrowed his brow. “Alright... Are you sure you’re okay?” He questioned hesitantly, eyes darting down to All Might’s aggressively trembling hands.

His mentor nodded. “I’m sure, my boy. You’d better be getting back to the dorms before Aizawa sends someone after you, troublemaker.”

Izuku blinked, glancing at his watch and realizing he only had a few minutes to make it back to UA before the dorm gates locked.

“Oh, you’re right! Geez, I lost track of time,” Izuku rushed, turning to head down the street. He paused, looking back for a moment. “I’ll stop by on Friday, okay? I don’t have any patrols scheduled so I should be free after school. Maybe we can watch some more horror movies?” He said, grinning hopefully.

Yagi’s soft expression dropped into something almost devastated for less than half a second, but Izuku caught it. “We’ll see, Young Midoriya. I’ll… have to check my schedule that day,” He said, turning and fumbling with his keys to unlock his door with unsteady hands. He opened his door slowly, turning to look at Izuku from the doorway.

“Stay safe, Izuku. You’re going to be a fantastic hero. I can’t wait to see what you’ll accomplish,” Yagi said, his voice sincere and a wide smile on his face.

Izuku blinked at the sudden affection, blushing slightly despite his strong concern. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything All Might had stepped into his apartment and closed the door with a quiet click.

For a few moments, Izuku considered knocking on All Might’s door and asking to stay overnight at his apartment just in case, but he brushed the thought aside. He’d already spent almost six hours at Yagi’s apartment, he really didn’t want to bug the man any further just because he was feeling paranoid.

With one last contemplative glance at Yagi’s door, Izuku began his sprint back to UA. The rush to make it back in time temporarily pushed his worry out of his mind.

He couldn’t fall asleep that night. He knew he was safe in the dorms, but everything felt… off. The hair on his arms felt prickly and he couldn’t stop his eyes from darting to look out the sliding door every few seconds.

Aizawa-sensei would probably call the on-edge feeling a ‘hero’s warning,’ but Izuku’s danger sense quirk wasn’t alerting him to any villains nearby.

Eventually, he gave up on getting any rest and padded down to the common room for some tea. He sat in the darkness for a while, thinking about how Yagi was acting earlier that day. With his declining health it added just another factor to be concerned about.

Izuku wasn’t an idiot. He knew something was going on, but there was nothing he could do about it. He’d tried for a long time to convince Yagi to live in the UA teacher’s dorms so he could have a care routine, but the man had adamantly refused, stating that he didn’t need to place his burden onto others around him.

As frustrating as that was, Izuku understood. If he were in All Might’s situation, he’d have a hard time allowing others to help too. They were very similar in that aspect.

After an hour of sitting in the common room, Izuku poured his cold mug of tea in the sink and went back up to his room. He only managed to fall asleep as the early dregs of sunlight painted the sky a dim greyish-blue.

A few hours later he found himself in class, blinking tiredly at the whiteboard. The day was the same as usual. It was mostly just review material for their midterm exams, so Izuku allowed himself to doze, much to Iida’s dismay.

If he’d been any less exhausted, he'd probably have noticed the nervous glances Present Mic sent his way, and the pointed glare Aizawa aimed at his phone throughout the day.

After classes, he headed back to the dorms with his friends chatting animatedly beside him. After a quick dinner of a protein bar and a nutrient pouch, he headed out of UA and started his daily patrol.

He returned to UA a few hours later, feeling satisfied with his work. He’d managed to take down a villain who was wrecking a small convenience store and also stopped an attempted mugging on his way back, so he thought it was fair for him to clock out for the night.

He fell asleep as soon as his head hit his pillow, not noticing the frequent vibrations of his phone across the room. The next morning was better than the morning prior, with Izuku even managing to drag himself out of bed to go for an early run before class. Returning to the dorms, he prepared for class quickly, rushing out the door to make it to class on time.

Stepping into the classroom only a few minutes before the warning bell, he could immediately tell that the atmosphere of the room was off. Everyone was crowded around Kaminari’s desk, whispering frantically.

Izuku stepped around the commotion, placing his things down at his own desk and looking curiously towards the group. He didn’t have time to question what was going on with Aizawa-sensei stepping into the room a few seconds later to start the day.

Izuku couldn’t help but notice that the man looked much more worn out than usual, his posture slouched and the bags under his eyes more defined than Izuku’d ever seen them. During lunch he found himself busy with an assignment he'd forgotten, spending his time in the library to finish it.

After class, he was immediately swarmed by his friends, all wearing concerned expressions.

“Um. Guys?” Izuku said, brow furrowing in confusion.

Uraraka shared a look with Iida, then spoke. “Are you alright, Deku?” She asked.

Izuku blinked. “Wh- Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be? Did something happen?”

His friends tensed. Shinsou grimaced nervously, stepping back to let Tsu take his place closest to Deku.

Uraraka placed a comforting hand on Izuku’s shoulder, looking like she didn’t know what to say. “All Might is in the hospital,” She blurted out, instantly seeming to regret her lack of tact.

Izuku froze. His mouth opened and closed, unsure of how to reply. He took a slow shuddering breath. “And… you’re sure of this?” He said, voice much steadier than he felt. He looked to Iida, knowing his friend wouldn’t play such a horrible prank.

At the other boy’s sharp nod, Izuku stood quickly, shoving his things into his bag without caring to organize them. “I need to go,” He said, pushing past his friends to walk quickly to the door.

They called after him but Izuku ignored them. He needed to find someone who could tell him what was going on.

In a daze, he found himself outside the teacher’s lounge, knocking quickly on the door. After a second, he heard Midnight call out a short “Come in!”

He slid the door open, eyes searching for Aizawa-sensei. Midnight glanced up from her desk at his entry.

“He’s heading to the staff parking lot. You need to really hurry if you want to catch up with him,” She told him seriously, her usual flirtatious persona absent after seeing the look on his face.

Izuku didn’t reply, activating his quirk and bolting down the hallways, ignoring the startled noises from the other students still leaving their classes. It only took a minute for him to be outside, rushing towards the staff parking lot, not even paying attention to the air whipping painfully at his skin.

Seeing Aizawa jogging down the pathway towards Present Mic’s car didn’t afford Izuku a sense of relief like it should’ve. The man’s urgency only terrified him further.

“Sensei!” Izuku called, deactivating his quirk and instead breaking into sprint now that the man was in sight.

Aizawa halted, turning his head, his eyes widening at the sight of Izuku. “Midoriya? Wh-?” He started.

Izuku cut him off, uncaring of how rude he seemed. “All Might is in the hospital. Why? What happened? Was it a villain attack? Is everyone oka-” He questioned, slowing to a stop next to the man.

“Kid. Stop. Breathe,” Aizawa said steadily.

Izuku then realized his entire body was shaking with adrenaline, his breathing far too fast. He hadn’t noticed, too occupied with making sure he caught up to his teacher in time. He inhaled slowly, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Sensei, what happened to Yagi?” Izuku asked vulnerably, his voice trembling.

Aizawa looked conflicted, then clenched his jaw. “Get in Mic’s car. I’m going to the hospital now to find out what’s happening. You might as well come with.” He said, glancing back to nod at Mic.

Izuku followed him into the car, having to awkwardly climb over the passenger seat to sit in the back. Mic looked at Izuku in the rearview mirror, his expression uncharacteristically closed-off.

As they pulled out onto the street, Aizawa spoke to Izuku. “When was the last time you heard from All Might?” He asked.

“Wednesday. We visited the beach and I planned to visit him again later today,” Izuku said, clenching his hands together to stop himself from picking at his skin in anxiety.

“That sounds about right,” Aizawa muttered, then turned back to look at Izuku. “We don’t know what’s going on yet. Someone caught pictures of All Might being taken into the hospital early this morning. All Might cut contact with everyone on Wednesday night, all phone lines to his apartment dead and everything. He didn’t show up for work yesterday or, obviously, today,” He told Izuku bluntly.

Izuku pushed down the tightness in his chest and the restrictive feeling in his throat and nodded. “He seemed off on Wednesday,” He said quietly, strained.

Mic glanced at Izuku in the mirror again. “How so?”

Izuku fiddled nervously with his hands for a second, trying to ground himself. “He was oddly sentimental. When he thought I wasn’t looking, he seemed… really sad.”

Aizawa and Mic shared a look that Izuku couldn’t decipher. The group lapsed into silence for the rest of the drive to the hospital.

As soon as they arrived, Izuku flung himself out of the car the instant Aizawa had gotten out, ready to bolt into the hospital only to be stopped by his teacher’s firm hand on his shoulder.

“I know you’re scared, but you can’t sprint into a hospital, Problem Child. Deep breaths. Keep it together, just for now. They won’t let you see All Might if you’re hysterical,” He said, his voice low as he walked towards the entrance of the building, not removing his hand from Izuku’s shoulder.

Izuku tried to follow his teacher’s instructions, his hands twitching and clenching at his sides as he focused on trying to calm down. He could hear Mic walking behind them.

The instant they entered the lobby, Izuku had to stop himself from bolting down the hallways like a madman to find his mentor. Aizawa’s grip on his shoulder was a grounding pressure allowing Izuku to breathe a bit easier, and the man seemed to understand the sense of security it provided.

They approached the receptionist, Aizawa coughing pointedly to get his attention. The man at the desk looked up, smiling politely.

“Hello! Welcome to North Musutafu Clinic, how can I help you?” He asked.

“We’re here to visit Toshinori Yagi. He was admitted this morning, I believe?” Aizawa said, pulling out his UA heroics license and showing it to the man.

The instant the receptionist saw the license, he glanced rapidly between Aizawa and Mic, obviously recognizing them. He nodded, telling them the floor and room number without any argument.

They walked towards the elevator, pace picking up now that they had the information they needed. The next few minutes were a blur for Izuku, his mind spiraling as he wondered what type of injury would be bad enough to cause All Might to cut contact.

Next he knew, he was standing in front of a doctor. The man’s features were indistinct and unmemorable to Izuku.

“I must warn you before you see him… He isn’t himself right now,” The doctor said sympathetically.

Aizawa’s hand on Izuku’s shoulder tensed, then pulled away.

“What do you mean? What happened to him?” Aizawa asked, his tone blunt but his expression showing his worry.

The doctor looked almost hesitant to tell them, his voice very slow when he replied. “He... collapsed late Wednesday night after intentionally taking a high number of his prescribed pain medications. We believe he intended them to end his life, but he survived the initial overdose. A neighbor called the police early this morning to check up on him and he was rushed to the hospital."

The doctor carried on with a concerned look at Izuku before looking back to Aizawa and Mic. “Unfortunately, we have reason to believe this incident was premeditated on his part. Earlier this month, he voluntarily declined the medications that were keeping his lungs and stomach functioning to a certain degree. We tried to talk sense into him, but once a patient’s health gets to a certain point... there’s nothing we can do to change their mind. This was his choice. I’m very sorry,” The man said, bowing low despite the situation being out of his hands.

Izuku’s knees felt weak. All Might? Choosing to die? There’s no way. He was fine just a few days ago. He was getting better, Izuku just knew it. His mentor was happy and he was so proud of him, he’d told Izuku himself.

Mic’s voice broke Izuku out of his thoughts. Glancing over, he noticed the man looking just as shocked as Izuku felt. “There’s… nothing you can do?”

The doctor stood up straight. “If there was any treatment for this, we would already be administering it. I'm sorry to say this is out of our hands. His lungs and heart are failing, both from his past injuries and from going off the medications that were keeping him alive. The combination of withdrawal symptoms, the overdose, and organ failure… There’s nothing we can do besides keep him comfortable the best we can until his time.”

Mic nodded, his expression confused and upset. “I… Okay. That’s a lot. Alright, but how… is he? Like, currently?”

“Right now… he’s confused, frightened, and lonely. He might not recognize you, and he might even lash out. If that does not deter you from visiting him, please know there’s a button to call a nurse in the doorway of his room in case anything happens,” The doctor replied soberly.

Izuku couldn’t wait any longer. “Please let me see him,” He blurted out.

The man looked at him for a long moment, then nodded, opening a door to his right. “Of course. Take as much time as you need.”

Izuku didn’t wait to see if Aizawa or Mic would be following him in, instead rushing into the room without another word. The door closed behind him with a quiet click.

He wasn’t prepared for what he saw.

In the bed in the center of the room, hooked up to various machines, was his mentor. The man looked worse than Izuku had ever seen him. If he hadn’t heard All Might was in the hospital, he’d never have believed that the man lying before him was Yagi.

Yagi’s face was gaunt, his lips tinted blue and the veins standing out on his skin. His eyes were sunken into his skull, dark bruise-like circles surrounding them. His chest rose and fell as the machine next to him forced clean air into his lungs, whirring rhythmically.

Izuku must have made a noise, as Yagi’s eyes opened and his gaze settled on him. Izuku wanted to break down right there in the hospital room the instant he saw no recognition in his mentor’s eyes. Even so, the man gave him a kind smile, attempting to sit up but only pushing his arms uselessly against the bed and wires keeping him alive.

Seeing his idol in this state was breaking Izuku’s heart and he was barely holding himself together.

“Do y-you want help? I can elevate the bed for you…” Izuku said, trailing off to keep his voice from trembling.

“Yes, please. That’d be very kind of you, young man,” Yagi said, tone polite and impersonal as if a nice stranger had offered to help him cross the street.

Izuku nodded slowly, stepping fully into the room to sit down in one of the bedside chairs, holding down the button to elevate the bed. Yagi grunted in pain as the bed shifted, then gave him a reassuring smile when Izuku tried to apologize for accidentally hurting him.

“It’s alright. Most things hurt, these days. It’s not your fault,” Yagi paused for a long moment, his sunken blue eyes searching Izuku’s face. “I know you, don’t I?” He asked, his voice distant.

Izuku barely choked back a sob but he couldn’t stop the tears rolling down his face. “Yes. You do, sir.”

Yagi looked sad. “I’m sorry this is hurting you. I’m sorry I can’t remember you yet.”

Izuku almost snorted humorlessly at the irony of it. All Might, on his deathbed, trying to comfort someone he couldn’t even remember. The kindness was so in-character for him that it hurt.

“It’s okay-” Izuku started.

“It’s not. You’re hurting, and you don't have to hide that,” Yagi interrupted, his voice rasping in his throat.

Izuku nodded, muffling his sniffling into the sleeve of his uniform jacket as he rubbed at his eyes.

The room was silent for a few minutes besides the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor and the mechanical whirring of the other machines.

Yagi broke the silence. “Izuku?”

Izuku startled, head whipping up to stare at his mentor. “Yes?”

“Your name is Izuku,” Yagi said, a small smile on his lips. “I remember you. You’re my son.”

Izuku wanted to reply but Yagi kept speaking, looking like he was actually seeing Izuku for the first time since he’d entered the room. “Not biologically, I think, but… I know I would have been honored to call you my son, back before…” His voice trailed off, his eyes distant with memories.

Izuku’s sniffling only increased. “I don’t understand why you have to leave,” He sobbed.

Yagi gave him a sad smile, then held out an unsteady hand for him to hold. Izuku grabbed it, hating how unnaturally cold it felt but refusing to release his grip, clutching it like a fragile lifeline.

“I hurt, my boy. I want to stop hurting, now. I’ve given so much of myself already… I think it's okay for me to be selfish, just this once,” He said, his shaking voice growing very quiet.

Izuku didn’t know how to reply. He just rested his head on the edge of All Might’s bed, muffling the heaving sobs he couldn’t hold back anymore.

He was startled when All Might began running his fingers through his hair, but he relaxed quickly, allowing himself the moment as he calmed down. After a few minutes, Yagi started humming quietly under his breath, just barely audible over the noise of the machines.

Izuku tried to pretend they were in Yagi’s apartment watching some shitty action movie together. He could almost block out the noise of the medical equipment and just imagine he was spending quality time with his mentor. But, every time he allowed himself to drift into the fantasy of everything being alright, a pang of grief tightened his throat again.

After a while, Yagi’s hand stopped moving in his hair. Izuku would’ve panicked if not for the steady beeping of the heart monitor informing him that his mentor had just fallen asleep. Izuku slowly lifted his head and blinked, his eyes feeling swollen and achy.

Yagi looked peaceful in his sleep. It was a stark contrast to the tension lining his features constantly when he was awake. Izuku couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed the man’s pain before. He gently lifted Yagi’s hand from where it rested on his head, just holding it for a minute.

He squeezed Yagi’s hand three times, a pattern he’d learned when he was young as a silent ‘I love you,’ then carefully placed it down on the bed.

He stood, feeling a lot like a ghost as he moved out of the room. Everything around him felt fuzzy and fake. He barely noticed his teachers sitting tensely outside the hospital room in ugly red waiting chairs. Izuku’s eyes drifted over them as he sat down in a third chair next to Present Mic.

He was brought partially back to reality by Mic’s questioning voice.

“Are you doing okay, kid?” He asked. As soon as the words left his mouth, he grimaced, likely realizing the answer was obvious.

Izuku paused. Was he okay? He didn’t… know. His body didn’t feel real to him and shaping the words in his mouth to reply felt foreign. He said nothing for a moment, probably quiet for far too long for it to seem normal.

He felt like he was drowning but… at the same time he felt shitty for feeling that way. Somehow, on top of all that, he felt nothing. It was similar to seeing a stranger crying in public and knowing there’s nothing you can do to help. But he couldn’t tell his teacher all that, lest he bore the man.

“I don’t know,” He told Mic instead. The three words felt like a vast oversimplification of how he was really feeling-- which was too much and nothing at once-- but it’d have to do. By the look on Mic’s face, the man understood.

“Okay, kid,” Mic said, reaching out to nudge his shoulder reassuringly.

Izuku had to refrain from leaning into the touch, seeking something to ground himself. When Mic’s hand pulled away, Izuku felt like he was drifting again.

Aizawa stood, popping his back with a wince. “I’m gonna visit him for a few minutes. I'm gonna talk to his doctor after, then we'll head back to UA. You coming, Mic?” He said, opening the door slightly.

Izuku almost wanted to shout a warning, to tell them what they’ll see in the room so they didn’t have to experience the grief as he had. He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat closed up. What could he even say? ‘Sorry, but my sickly mentor looks really bad right now, you shouldn’t visit your coworker before he dies because it makes me uncomfortable’?

Mic glanced at him knowingly, then stood and walked to the door. “We’ll be right back,” He told Izuku, seeming hesitant to leave him alone.

The door closed behind his teachers. He didn’t know how much time was passing, his focus vacantly directed at the dented metal of the doorway and walls around it, memorizing how they looked. A little while later, Aizawa and Mic walked back out of the room, Mic carefully pulling the door shut.

Izuku intentionally ignored the way both their eyes were suspiciously swollen and the trembling of Mic’s lip as they talked quietly between each other for a moment. Aizawa spared him a glance before walking down the hallway, likely looking for the doctor in charge of Yagi’s care.

Mic sat down beside Izuku with a quiet huff, the casual exuberance of his persona absent. That was to be expected, but it still surprised Izuku enough to pull his attention from the dented metal door.

He wanted to ask his teacher how he was doing, but felt it’d be awkward. They sat in silence for a minute. After a third quiet sniffle, Izuku decided he should say something.

“Are you okay, sensei?” He asked, keeping his voice low.

Present Mic looked at him, blinking. His features settled into a soft look, despite his puffy eyes and the tear tracks on his cheeks. “Yeah, little listener, I’m alright. I should be the one worrying about you.”

Izuku shrugged. He didn’t have time to reply before Aizawa quickly walked back down the hallway, his posture tense.

Mic glanced up. “What'd he say?”

Aizawa clenched his jaw, breath hitching. “They have no idea. Anywhere from days to months. They were leaning more towards days. He’s started turning down food and water and there’s only so long he can keep that up,” He said, his voice low and mostly aimed towards Mic.

Izuku knew what that meant.

He didn’t remember the trip home after that.

When he woke up hours later, the first thing he noticed was how goopy and dry his eyes felt. The second thing he noticed was the excessive All Might merch around him. The reminder of his mentor knocked the breath from his lungs. He stood quickly, changing his clothes and leaving his dorm without checking the time.

He sat in the common room for a long time, waiting for the sun to rise.

Eventually, people started to file downstairs, sending him knowing and pitying glances. After all, everyone in 1-A had watched All Might’s health decline and they'd definitely seen the news. It was only a matter of time. They didn’t know All Might had chosen to die early. They had no idea he’d willingly left them.

Izuku wasn’t going to tell them, either. He didn’t want his mentor’s final decision to ruin the image of the unbeatable pillar of hope and peace they’d all grown up with.

He made sure to eat a protein bar before he went back up to his room for the day. He couldn’t handle the pitying looks and tiptoeing around him from his classmates. They were acting like All Might was already dead. Izuku knew he wasn’t, he’d checked the news this morning. Izuku still had dim hope that somehow his mentor would survive.

Was that cruel? For him to hope that his mentor could continue to live in agony for Izuku’s sake? He didn’t know. He forced himself not to linger on it, instead sitting down on his bed and pulling up his mom’s contact information, just staring at the number on the screen and not clicking the call button.

They had become more distant after his second year, his mother unable to handle him getting hurt all the time. She’d told him firmly that she loved him more than anything, but she couldn’t just stand by and watch him destroy himself over and over again. He’d understood.

She wasn’t cutting him out of her life, she just needed a bit of distance. She’d always been sensitive, it only made sense for her to need space to cope with the pain of watching her only son rush into danger every time he saw the chance.

Izuku blamed himself. His mom still made the effort to call at least a few times every week, even sending large packages once a month with his favorite care products, snacks, and sentimental items from back home.

Izuku couldn’t bring himself to call. Every time his mom picked up the phone, she immediately started worrying that he’d been hurt again, frantically asking what hospital he was at. It was painful for Izuku to know he’d unintentionally conditioned that response in her.

He exhaled slowly, shutting off his phone. She didn’t need to handle him right now. She was busy with work and with the new friends she’d made, and he didn’t want to ruin that.

Izuku left his dorm again. He didn’t know where he was going, but he couldn’t force himself to stay in the room with his mentor’s face covering the walls. He ended up sitting on a bench in front of one of the many forest trails on UA’s campus.

He and All Might had trained out there in his first and second year. The thought made him tear up, so he pushed it away. His face was still swollen and his vision was blurry from crying too much the day before.

He sat on the bench for a long time, not paying any attention to the time. Occasionally he pulled out his phone from the pocket of his shorts to mindlessly scroll through his notifications, but otherwise he found comfort staring up at the sky or watching the birds hop from branch to branch in the trees.

Eventually, he noticed the sun starting to set. He wasn’t really surprised, his stomach rumbling had alerted him to the passing of time a while ago already. He barely paid attention when someone sat down next to him, joining him in looking at the sky, presumably.

“You’ve been sitting out here all day, kid. You’re gonna get a sunburn,” A gruff voice spoke up. Izuku turned to look. Aizawa was sitting next to him, his gaze fixed on the clouds above.

“Yeah,” Izuku replied.

“Why don’t you head back to your dorm?” Aizawa said, stating it as a question rather than an order.

Izuku said nothing for a moment, then replied in a stilted voice. “Everyone keeps looking at me. My room has his face everywhere.”

Aizawa sighed. “Yeah, I can… see why that’d be uncomfortable. Would you like to talk about it?”

Izuku shook his head. “No. I’ll go back soon. I just want to stay here for a little while longer, please.”

His teacher hesitated, turning from the clouds to examine Izuku. Seemingly deeming Izuku okay enough, he nodded. “Alright. Take a shower and eat something when you get back, though. If you need to talk, Present Mic and I are available at any time. Even in the middle of the night.”

Blinking confusedly, Izuku nodded. He didn’t hear the man walk away.

He returned to the dorms when it was nearly night. He decided to follow Aizawa’s advice, opening the fridge to scrounge up something small to eat.

He almost burst into tears at seeing containers of food all labeled with things like ‘Izuku- For Saturday!!! <3,’ ‘DEKU. Eat this on Monday night, dipshit,’ and ‘Voilà! Prends soin de toi, mon ami ☆⌒(*＾-゜)v,’ covering every dinner for the next week. He wondered how long it’d taken everyone to prepare the food. He would have to remember to thank them.

He microwaved the container marked for Saturday night, leaning against the counter as he ate. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he took the first bite of katsudon, smiling as he realized it was his mother’s recipe. It made him happy knowing Kacchan was the only person in the dorms who could make it right.

Brash and crude as he might be, Kacchan still made sure to show his affection in other ways. They’d had a rough first few years at UA, constantly toeing the line between rivals and enemies. Eventually, after Izuku stopped flinching slightly at Kacchan’s explosions, they settled on being brothers.

It wasn’t immediate. Izuku still had to push down the reflex to keep an eye on Kacchan at all times during heroics training. Though, after a while that became irrelevant. It was incredibly hard to distrust someone after you’ve watched them bleed for your sake time and time again.

There was a lot of hurt in their past, always skirting around the label of ‘bully’ and ‘victim.’ After many long conversations and Izuku punching Kacchan in the face plenty of times, they came to an understanding, growing closer from there.

Izuku finished his dinner, feeling drowsy from eating a large meal after surviving on only protein bars for two days. He returned to his room, closing his eyes to avoid looking at the posters on his walls, and quickly grabbed his shower supplies. After his shower, he felt a bit better, his eyes less sticky and dry.

He ended up bringing a few blankets down to the common room, setting up a small sleeping area for himself. It was surprisingly comfortable. He scrolled mindlessly on his phone for a while, using it as a distraction.

He felt guilty for not going to visit All Might in the hospital, but his mind had been foggy all day. He hadn’t even considered it an option. In his mind, Yagi was still safely back at his apartment, probably watching shitty old horror movies. Izuku couldn’t accept the fact that he wasn’t able to run straight to his mentor’s address and hang out with him at any time. It just… wouldn’t click.

He texted Aizawa asking if he could visit All Might in the morning. The man didn’t reply. Izuku fell into a fitful sleep on the common room couch.

In the morning, Izuku was woken by his classmates talking in the kitchen. He didn’t really care, his mind still hazy with sleep. He heard soft footsteps rushing into the kitchen.

“Any updates?” Izuku heard Kaminari ask in a voice that he may have believed was quiet. Mina made a questioning sound in response.

Kaminari didn't speak for a second, then continued. The only thing Izuku managed to catch was something about All Might. At that, Izuku sprung from his blanket nest, snatching his phone from the table in front of him.

At the top of his notifications was a text from Aizawa.

From: Aizawa Shouta

5:46AM: You can visit him. Be prepared for the worst.

Izuku typed out a reply rapidly, uncaring of typos.

To: Aizawa Shouta

7:21AM: What d do yo u mean ??

Surprisingly, the man texted back within seconds.

From: Aizawa Shouta

7:21AM: We don’t know how much longer he has left. He had an episode and struck a nurse this morning. Please be ready to say your goodbyes today. Just in case. Be outside the dorms in 15 minutes.

Izuku clenched his eyes shut, willing back tears. He nodded to himself, taking a deep shuddering breath. He stood from the couch, folding up the blankets he’d slept on. Across the room, he noticed Kacchan sitting at one of the tables subtly sending him concerned glares.

Izuku nodded at him, then turned back to the task of making sure he had everything ready to leave. Five minutes before he needed to meet Aizawa, he rushed down the short pathway onto the street. An unfamiliar car was already waiting there with his teacher on the passenger side, so Izuku climbed into the backseat without a word.

The drive to the hospital was short but Izuku almost felt like he was suffocating the entire time. He stared out the window, watching the world pass in a blur until they pulled into the parking lot. Izuku nervously bit at his lip until he tasted iron as he followed his teacher into the building.

They made their way through the hospital until they arrived outside All Might’s room.

Izuku stared at it, standing very still. Aizawa seemed to understand his hesitation.

“I’ll go in first. I can check how he’s feeling right now,” Aizawa said.

‘So your final memory of your mentor isn’t him backhanding you from his deathbed’ went unsaid. Izuku only nodded, tensely sitting down on the same ugly red waiting chair he’d sat in when he visited the first time.

A few minutes later, Aizawa walked out of the room. He closed the door, leaning against it and taking a deep breath. Izuku had almost forgotten the situation would impact other people. He felt a pang of guilt but didn’t allow himself to linger on it.

“He’s… awake, but very confused. I don’t think he’ll get aggressive. I’m not sure he’ll remember you either, though. He's not exactly responsive,” His teacher said slowly.

Izuku nodded, standing. “I’d like to see him, just… for closure, I guess.”

Aizawa didn’t look exactly happy with his decision, but he stepped away from the door. “I’m right out here if you need me.”

Izuku didn’t reply. His shoulders were lined with a familiar sort of tension as he closed the door behind him, feeling oddly like he was stepping directly into purgatory. His eyes fell upon the bed. He was almost surprised that Yagi didn’t look all that much worse than he had before. The biggest difference was in his eyes.

Before, Izuku could tell that Yagi was actually seeing the things around him, understanding what was going on at least to a certain degree. Looking at his mentor this time, though, Izuku knew the man wasn’t present.

His eyes were glassy. Izuku was struck by the memory of the time he and Kacchan had discovered a dead bird in the woods as kids. Looking into Yagi's gaze, he was greeted by the same sightless stare once again. He resisted the urge to shudder.

Izuku moved forward, stopping near the end of the bed. “Yagi?” He said quietly, hesitantly trying to draw the man’s attention.

Yagi didn’t reply. The only noise in the room was the beeping of the heart monitor and the grating whir of the ventilator. Izuku didn’t move. Neither did Yagi.

After a long while, Izuku finally sat down in one of the chairs at the bedside. Yagi said nothing.

“Yagi? Can you hear me?” Izuku tried again.

Slowly, so slowly, Yagi’s gaze drifted to Izuku. There was no sign of recognition in his eyes. No indication he even realized that he was looking at another human being. He returned to staring at the wall after a moment.

His heart clenched. Izuku decided to say what he needed to before it was too late. “I don’t think you can… hear me. Right now. But I need to say a few things for my own sake, okay? And for you, too, I think, if you can actually hear me,” He took a deep breath. “I’m... sorry. I’m so sorry, All Might. I’m sorry I never noticed how bad things were getting. I’m sorry I didn’t help more when I did notice something wrong.”

He paused, breathing fast. The tight feeling in his throat was making it difficult to speak. “I’m sorry you’ll never- You’ll never-” He stopped entirely, muffling a sob into his hand. He composed himself slightly after a second, pushing through to say what he needed to.

“I’m sorry you won’t be around to meet my family one day. You w-would’ve been the coolest grandpa ever,” He said, a devastated smile on his face, voice shaking so hard he could barely understand his own words.

“I’m sorry you’ll never get to see me become the number one hero. And… and thank you. Thank you so much for everything. You raised me, just like you promised my mom after Kamino. You never went back on your word. And, for w-what it’s worth now,” He hiccupped. “You were the b-best father anyone could’ve ever hoped for. Thank you.”

He stood, knowing he was on the verge of breaking down entirely, and made his way to the door. With one hand on the doorknob, he looked back at Yagi, hoping to see something in his eyes to indicate he understood anything Izuku had just said. There was nothing.

“I love you. So much. You don’t have to be in pain anymore, okay? You can be selfish, j-just this once,” Izuku said, repeating his mentor’s words from before, his vision blurring from the tears welling up in his eyes.

He didn’t expect a response, and he didn’t get one either. He stepped out of the room, moving to the side to lean against the wall and bury his face in his hands. His eyes stung. He rubbed at them in frustration.

Aizawa didn’t say anything to comfort him. Izuku was glad he didn’t.

His teacher placed a warm hand on Izuku’s shoulder, leading him into the elevator, out of the building, and back to the car. The drive to the dorms was quiet. Izuku didn’t recognize the man driving the car. He didn’t think about that too much.

The car pulled up at the sidewalk leading to the dorm building and Izuku climbed out. Aizawa followed him, placing his hand on Izuku’s shoulder again. He appreciated it. There were no words that could help with how Izuku was feeling and his teacher seemed to already know that.

Aizawa walked with Izuku until they were standing in front of the dorms, then he left with one reassuring squeeze to his shoulder. Izuku walked blankly into the building, ignoring the people trying to talk to him. He couldn’t go up to his dorm room, so he sat at one of the tables, pulling his phone from his pocket and watching HeroTube mindlessly.

He fell asleep at the table for a while, his head resting uncomfortably against the cold wood. He awoke a while later to someone gently nudging his shoulder. Groggily, he looked up to see Shinsou.

“Hey. You’ve been asleep for a while. Come eat lunch with us, okay?” He said.

Izuku hummed noncommittally, turning to rest his face back on the table.

“Nope, no going back to sleep. Everyone’s worried about you, eating lunch with us would settle our minds… we won’t bug you for a bit if you just do that for us. Deal?” Hitoshi said bluntly.

Raising his head again and blinking slowly, Izuku slouched his shoulders and nodded.

“Great. Come make your sandwich, we set out all the ingredients but we didn’t want to assume how you’d like yours,” Shinsou said, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking into the kitchen.

Izuku followed, still feeling exhausted despite knowing he’d probably gotten plenty of sleep. Luckily, there were only a few people in the kitchen. Iida, Uraraka, Todoroki, Tsu, and Aoyama leaned against the counters. Aoyama and Iida were already eating their food while the others prepared their meals.

Walking in, Izuku was glad they didn’t immediately crowd him for answers. Instead, they respectfully moved out of the way and allowed him to make his food, then they all moved to the common room to sit down at a table while they ate.

Izuku didn’t pay much attention to the conversation they were having, but he gave his input when prompted. It was hard to think about hero work or when the next math assignment was due when all he could focus on was the fact that his mentor could die any second.

He finished his food quickly, washed his plate, then sat on the couch, rhythmically tapping his fingers against the fabric. After a few minutes, a weight settled on the seat next to him.

“I’m not going to ask how you’re doing, because I think that’s obvious. And it’d probably be annoying,” Todoroki said, straightforward as usual. “We don’t know what’s going on, but we all have a pretty good idea. Shinsou knows a bit about coping with grief if you need someone who understands what you’re going through. Otherwise, all of us are available to talk whenever you need us. We’re all grieving him together.”

Izuku looked at his friend. “Thank you, I appreciate that… and likewise. I just don’t want to talk about it yet,” He felt resentment welling up inside of him. Why were they all acting like he was gone? He wasn’t dead yet, damnit! Why were they already mourning? He fought against the urge to shout it out-- to scream ‘he’s not dead! He’s not dead yet! Stop it!’. He inhaled slowly instead, the breath shuddering in his chest.

Todoroki didn’t reply, just grabbed Izuku’s hand in a familiar motion, applying a comforting amount of heat to the aching joints as he worked the tension out of the muscles.

Izuku didn’t thank him. He didn’t have to, really. It was just how their friendship worked. Todoroki would be there to patch him up and soothe his aches, and Izuku would always be there when his friend fell apart, dreams haunted by bubbling flesh and the stench of rot.

Todoroki left him alone after a little while. His hands and arms felt better, his chronic pain eased slightly. People moved in and out of the common room but Izuku paid them no mind. He focused on his phone, scrolling through the news trepidatiously. Refreshing the site, over and over, waiting.

No news. No updates. Of course, there were still people wondering why All Might was in the hospital in the first place, but that wasn’t what Izuku was looking for. He was waiting for the news to break, for UA to make a statement, something.

He tried to fall back asleep so he didn't have to think. It didn’t work.

He did his homework instead. He was lucky his backpack was still resting in the common room, thrown carelessly by the door before he’d gone on patrol for his internship. Before he’d gotten the news.

His friends sat with him at the table, all doing their work together. They leaned over to help each other a few times, but otherwise the common room was quiet. While it normally would've been a comforting situation, Izuku really didn’t like it. It felt far too normal to be carrying on. He felt like he should be doing something, anything, to fix what was happening. Rationally he knew there was nothing he could do, but having to wait was agonizing.

A few hours later, after all homework had been finished, his friends went up to their dorms with a few more comforting words and reminders that he was always welcome to talk to them. Izuku remained on the couch. His phone was going to die soon, and he definitely needed to go back up to his room to grab his charger.

He resigned himself to it. Arriving outside his dorm room, a note taped to his door caught his attention.

‘Don’t panic, dumbass. It’s all in a sealed box in your closet. Don’t thank me or any of that shit. Your gaggle of idiots (and Yaoyorozu) did all the work’ was written on the paper in Kacchan’s distinctive penmanship.

Izuku blinked, opening his door. He was shocked to see his walls bare, no All Might to be seen. The blankets on his bed had all been replaced with a fluffy-looking plain green comforter, no doubt made by Yaoyorozu. Instead of All Might bobbleheads and action figures, his desk only had a pretty red lava lamp, a small cat-shaped night light, and his school supplies (seemingly organized).

Izuku teared up, moved by the kindness of his friends. The tight anxious feeling in his chest loosened a little. Not much, but enough for him to feel like he could breathe, just for a minute.

He quickly plugged his phone in, then curled up under his new blanket. It smelled like lavender. Izuku had no doubt that was intentional on Yaoyorozu’s part. He made a mental note to thank her as soon as possible.

Somehow, despite having taken a nap earlier that day, he fell asleep quickly.

The next day was pretty similar to the previous one. Izuku felt like he was making his way through thick fog, already grieving a man who wasn’t yet dead. His friends seemed to be struggling with the idea as well. They’d all realized what was really happening, it seemed. It was probably cemented in their minds by the fact that All Might hadn’t burst into the common room on Sunday morning carrying bags of American-style pancakes for everyone like he normally did.

The first time he’d done that, it’d been a special surprise for everyone. But he continued doing it and it became routine, they never had to ask if he’d be back to visit them the next week. Izuku thought it was sweet, even if he knew the man was mostly doing it to feel useful to someone after he retired from hero work.

Izuku had never realized just how much the man had impacted his life as well as the lives of everyone around him. They’d all unanimously made breakfast on Sundays their cheat meals for the week. It felt odd to be sitting at the breakfast table, staring at a plate of fish and eggs instead of the sugary blueberry pancakes he’d gotten so used to.

He didn’t say anything about it. Nobody else did, either, even though the atmosphere in the room was tense until everyone had left the tables.

All Might didn’t die that day. Izuku didn’t know if he expected him to. In movies, the main character’s father figure always dies so soon after the character says his last goodbyes.

Izuku trained, checked the news every fifteen minutes, ate dinner, then went to bed. He didn’t sleep well, but he didn’t have the energy to get up and make himself tea either. He was glad his All Might merch had been put away, but at the same time it felt disrespectful. He knew he shouldn’t have felt bad with his mentor’s merch on the walls. He hadn’t felt bad about it before.

When Izuku finally fell asleep, he did so with the heavy feeling in his chest returning from guilt.

The next morning he checked the news then went for a run. He went to class as usual, even if he couldn’t pay attention at all. Heroics training was cancelled. They replaced that class with a lecture on media affairs, or something like that. Izuku couldn’t bring himself to care about the topic.

He didn’t acknowledge the concerned glances from his teachers.

After class, he went back to the dorms then went for another run. He returned to the dorms a few hours later, feet blistered and aching. Taking care of them gave him something to do, something to keep his mind occupied. It only took a few minutes. Just before he was considering microwaving one of the containers in the fridge, he received a text.

From Aizawa Shouta

6:14PM: I don’t want you to have to hear this from the news. All Might passed away about twenty minutes ago. I wish I could’ve told you this in person but I am required to attend the press conference. I’m so sorry, kid.

Izuku had to read it multiple times for the words to sink in. He didn’t drop to his knees and scream and cry like characters in movies always did. Instead, he was frozen, his phone in his hand, his feet aching where they rubbed against the sides of his slippers. His head hurt and he couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t focus on anything besides the fact that his mentor was dead and the feeling of his shirt rubbing against his skin uncomfortably. The few people in the common room looked up, seeming to sense something wrong.

Izuku didn’t know what to do or what to say. He opened his mouth to tell them the news, then closed it again. They seemed to understand anyway. Mina teared up immediately, covering her mouth with her hand and leaning against Sero’s side. Sero clenched his jaw, staring at his lap.

As the other people in the room caught on, through solemn looks and shaky whispers, the noise grew. Phones were brought out, texting the other members of the class, and as Izuku stood there, frozen and uncomprehending, more and more people filtered into the common room to mourn together.

Izuku couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take seeing people grieve the man they all knew differently than he did. To them, he was just their fun goofy teacher. To him, in the beginning, All Might was his idol, but then their relationship grew into something much closer, much more personal. The class knew All Might first and foremost as All Might, the Symbol of Peace, but Izuku knew him as Yagi, his mentor. That made all the difference.

Without a word, Izuku went to his room. He sat on his bed, staring at his hands for a long time. He ignored the knocks on his door. He ignored his growling stomach. His phone vibrating in his pocket was irrelevant to him. Nothing really mattered at the moment besides his mentor being gone.

He didn’t know how to start comprehending it. Logically, he’d known Yagi wasn’t immortal. He knew that the man would eventually pass. But he hadn’t expected it to happen before Izuku had even stepped out into the world as a true licensed hero. He especially couldn’t have predicted that Yagi would die by his own hand.

Izuku’s brain felt distant again, no matter how hard he tried to bring himself back to earth. He looked at his desk, seeing the items his friends had set up for his comfort. He thought back to Wednesday when he’d spent time at the beach with Yagi.

Looking back, it made sense. Yagi had been acting odd, with his random affection and the request to visit the beach so close to nightfall. The man had chosen to spend his last day with Izuku.

Izuku counted his breaths. He made sure he didn’t start hyperventilating.

His feet hurt. He didn’t know why that was the thing his brain chose to focus on, out of anything, but all he could think about was the dull sting of blisters rubbing against his itchy wool socks and his cheap blue house slippers.

‘I should go shopping for new socks soon,’ Izuku thought. ‘I can go next weekend. I need to restock All Might’s fridge anyway.’

There was a beat, then it hit him all at once. He’d never see his mentor again. He’d never go shopping for the man. Never watch movies with him on the couch. He’d never hear Yagi’s stupid wheezy chuckle or booming laughter ever again.

Izuku clutched at the neck of his shirt, gasping as he tried to breathe around the huge lump in his throat. The tension was painful. He leaned forward, bringing his hands up to clutch at the hair hanging in front of his face so he could place his stinging eyes against his palms.

He sobbed, completely unrestrained. Every noise that escaped his mouth pierced his throat like pine needles, prickling against his airway with each inhale. He could barely manage to breathe with how hard his chest was shaking as he cried.

He cried for a long time, sobbing so hard it made him cough and gag. He wasn’t able to calm down until a while later, when his eyes were dry and the front of his shirt was soaked from tears and snot. He hiccupped, pulling his shirt off and rubbing his sticky eyes with his fingers, trying to soothe the sting of salt.

He moved to the bathroom to clean his face and drink some water from the tap to soothe his aching throat, then pulled another shirt on. He realized he hadn’t eaten but the idea of food made his stomach twist uncomfortably. Instead, he sat back down on his bed, feeling empty and drained.

He had various notifications, but the most prominent one was five missed calls from his mom. Just as he was about to call her back, his phone rang again, the contact image for his mom popping up on his screen. He answered it quickly.

“Mom?” He said, voice strained, scratchy, and just a bit too shaky for comfort.

“Izuku? Are you okay? Did you hear? Should I come get you?” His mom asked quickly, her voice trembling as well as if she’d been crying. “I… I’m sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bombard you. I just saw the news…”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry f-for missing your c-calls,” Izuku responded.

“Don’t you dare apologize, baby bean. You’re okay. Don’t you worry about me right now, alright?” She said, “I need to know what you need. Do you want to come home? I could come to the dorms, too. They’d even probably understand if I called out of work for the week if that’s what you need.”

“I… don’t know. I d-don’t know right now. Things are kind of… fuzzy. I t-think I just want to go to b-bed, honestly,” Izuku replied quietly.

“Of course, I understand. You know you can always call me, okay? When I said we needed distance I didn’t mean I wanted you out of my life. You’re my world, Izuku. I just want to see you safe,” Inko paused. “I’d really like to see you soon if you have some time. I love you, Izuku, so much.”

“I know. I love you too. I’ll c-call if I need to talk, I promise,” Izuku said. He didn’t know if that was a lie or not.

“Okay, baby. You get some sleep. Remember to eat, please. I’m sending your care package early this month, I’ll text you when it arrives.”

“Thank y-you, mom. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Izuku,” Inko said, the call ending a second later.

Izuku plugged his phone into the charger, changed into some basketball shorts, kicked off his slippers, then scooted up under his blanket. The sheets felt uncomfortable against his legs, his leg hairs being pulled in the wrong direction by the fabric.

Everything felt tense and the more Izuku focused on it, the more it seemed to bother him. There was a seam in one of his socks that was running slightly in the wrong direction and that alone took up minutes of his time, rubbing his toe against it in irritation in an attempt to correct it. He clenched his jaw, opting to try and ignore the various things around him that were wrong and bad and so very frustrating.

Hours of tossing and turning later, Izuku managed to fall into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, he was woken by a soft tap on his door. Blinking groggily, he lifted his head.

“Come in,” He called, his voice strained.

The door pulled open a bit, Todoroki leaning against the doorway. “Good morning. Sensei called a meeting. He wants everyone in the common room in fifteen minutes. Sorry for waking you a bit early, I thought you’d like a moment before being around everyone.”

Izuku sat up, pulling at one of the curls in front of his face that was still bunched together by either tears or snot with a small grimace.

“Thank you, Todoroki,” He replied softly.

Todoroki didn’t say anything else, just nodded and closed the door.

Izuku pulled the comforter off himself and stood, grabbing his casual clothes and heading to the bathroom to change. After rinsing his hair in the sink a bit and changing into clean clothes, he felt a bit more normal. He ignored the urge to cry every few minutes as well as he could, not wanting to look like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown at the class meeting.

He left his dorm a few minutes before he had to be at the meeting, opting to take the stairs so he’d be less likely to attract anyone’s attention when he entered the room. By the time he arrived, most of the class had already gathered there. All of them had swollen eyes, a few looking like they could’ve used a few more hours of sleep. Izuku doubted he looked any better, but he kept himself together.

When Mina burst into tears, Kaminari and Kirishima both followed, moving around the tables to sit on the couch, all leaning on each other. A few classmates looked like they were holding back tears as well. Izuku didn’t blame them, but for some reason he felt a spark of irritation. He pushed it down.

After everyone had drifted into the common room, Aizawa showed up a few minutes later, looking much more exhausted than usual.

“As you all probably know by now… All Might has passed away,” Aizawa said in a calm voice, though obviously not unaffected. “Due to this, students have been granted three days off. After that, we will return to classes. All work studies have been officially cancelled for the month. No patrols are allowed. If you need more time off, you are free to take it so long as you inform me or Nezu first.”

He paused, gauging the reaction of the class, then continued. “We have multiple certified crisis counselors on staff. Their doors are open at any time. You are required to have at least one appointment with the main counselor on staff, Hound Dog. After that, it is up to you. If you are struggling, there are always support options available.”

Aizawa made eye contact with each student individually, his gaze lingering on Izuku slightly longer than anyone else, his brow furrowed.

“Support each other. You are free to text or call me if you need someone to talk to. Preferably during daylight hours. You’re dismissed,” He said, nodding once then leaving the dorm building quickly.

At that, a few students left immediately, likely heading back to their rooms. Most of the class just stood around, looking unsure of what to do or how to react. Izuku glanced at his friend group, making sure they seemed to be coping alright.

None of them seemed to be handling their grief badly, so Izuku left as well, heading back up the stairs without a word. He didn’t want to stick around to hear everyone discussing what they were all thinking. They all probably wanted to know how All Might died and they all knew that Izuku was the only one who could give them answers. He wasn’t going to.

Izuku knew he couldn’t stay down for long. He was the next Symbol of Peace, he needed to get his shit together and support his friends. He couldn’t stop to wallow in his grief. His mind feeling distant wasn’t something that could stop him from working. He refused to let it, even if his hands didn’t feel like his own and he didn’t quite recognize the face in the mirror.

After an hour of working on future assignments for his classes, he headed back down to the common room, this time dressed in his workout clothes. He stopped to chat with Iida for a few minutes, letting his friend hug him and fuss over him. He knew taking care of others was Iida’s way of coping, so he allowed it.

Izuku chugged a protein drink and some water, pretending he didn’t notice Iida’s disapproving glance at his lack of breakfast, then left the dorm building to go on a run.

He ran despite the blisters on his feet stinging with every step. A little pain was nothing. He ran until his lungs felt like they were on fire and his legs were vibrating with every step. By the time he managed to limp back to the dorms, he couldn’t feel his feet anymore. He hoped the blisters hadn’t gotten too bad.

He pulled a small granola bar from the kitchen, staring at it for a moment, then putting it back. He didn’t feel like eating anything. He looked around the common room for something to occupy his time, but found nothing. There were a few people watching TV on the couches, obviously leaning on each other for comfort, but Izuku felt it would be awkward to say anything to them.

Izuku grabbed the larger first aid kit from the kitchen, heading up to his room with it with a mental reminder to return it before dinner. He sat down at his desk chair, hissing quietly as one of his legs trembled dangerously as he moved.

Peeling off his socks, he winced at the amount of blood. Most of his blisters had popped and new ones were forming on his arches. He applied some antiseptic spray, numbing gel (from his own supplies), and bandages, holding back a pained noise as the dry material rubbed against tender flesh. He figured he’d let his feet rest for the day, hoping they’d feel better in time for his run the next morning.

After treating his wounds, Izuku spent a while exercising in his room, avoiding ones that’d involve standing or putting pressure on his feet. Eventually that got boring and repetitive, his muscles not burning from exertion the way he’d like.

He scrolled on his phone for a while, trying to avoid news about All Might. As it turned out, that was impossible. Information and theories about All Might’s death were… everywhere. No matter what social media he went to, there were mentions of All Might or little drawings in the corners of pages showing respect for the man.

Izuku knew that shouldn’t make him feel bad, but every reminder put him on the verge of an anxiety attack. He’d even found himself opening All Might’s contact information to seek support before realizing that wasn’t an option anymore. That made him burst into tears again, muffling his sobs with his hand.

Every little thing around him reminded him of his mentor and Izuku was having a hard time finding distractions. All Might would want Izuku to be productive and work towards being the best hero he could. Izuku didn’t want to disappoint the man. He couldn’t imagine the heartbreak he’d feel if he met All Might in the space within One for All only to learn the man regretted choosing Izuku because he became lazy from his grief.

Izuku cleaned his face again, packed up the dorm first aid kit, and went back to the kitchen. He got a few worried glances from his classmates, but they looked away when he shot them reassuring smiles.

The rest of the day was much of the same. Izuku, against better judgement, went to the 1-A gym and exercised, exercised, and exercised some more. When dinnertime rolled around, his arms were trembling and his face was nearly purple. Sweat rolled off him in buckets and he felt like he was on the verge of passing out.

‘Good,’ Izuku thought. ‘If I’m unconscious, there’s nothing to remind me of him.’

He immediately felt guilty after that thought. How would Yagi feel knowing his own successor wasn’t even grieving him properly? Izuku felt ashamed.

Heading from the gym back to the dorms, he grimaced as his stomach rumbled loudly. After treating his feet and hands again for the blisters he’d gained during his workout, he checked the fridge, seeing the meals his friends had prepared for him. He’d only eaten one of them.

He pulled one of the meals from the fridge, pushing the food into a bowl then microwaving it for just a minute, not really caring if it was still cold. He grabbed his meal and went straight up to his room, not paying attention to where his friends sat across the room, eating dinner together.

In his room, he stared at his food absently. He slowly ate a few bites, wincing as his stomach immediately turned. He ate as much as he could, not even registering the taste, then pushed the bowl away from himself. He stared tiredly at it for a moment, then decided he’d just take it down to the kitchen in the morning. He hoped he’d remember.

Izuku grabbed a pencil from the drawer of his desk, tapping it rhythmically against his notebook. He needed something to do, but he was out of options. He wasn’t allowed to patrol, he’d already exercised as much as he physically could, and all social media was filled with images of his mentor.

He wondered if it was too early to go to bed. He didn’t want to wake up long before sunrise because he went to sleep before a reasonable time. He sighed, giving up on finding anything else to do. He grabbed his laptop from his desk drawer and sat down on his bed, placing it against his knees.

He scrolled absently through social media for a while, his chest tightening every time he saw a reminder of All Might. He discovered that people were planning a city-wide festival to honor him. Izuku didn’t know how to feel about that.

On one hand, he was glad that people were mourning him and keeping his memory alive. On the other, he knew none of them knew All Might as Yagi. That stung. It hurt to know that Yagi would never be publicly remembered as anything other than his time as a hero.

Izuku supposed that’s what people sign up for when they become heroes. He didn’t have to like it, though.

He browsed for a while longer, then, out of other things to keep his mind occupied, he shut down his laptop, placing it next to his bed.

He stared at the ceiling absently, fighting off the urge to move and go somewhere. His fingers tapped restlessly against his thigh. He realized he hadn’t showered after his workout, his clothes sticky and uncomfortable.

With a sigh, he stood, grabbing a change of clothes from his dresser. Heading down to the common room, he waved at the few people still sitting around on the couches, then walked into the shower room. He rinsed off quickly, grimacing at the way the bandages on his feet pulled at his skin. He considered himself lucky he’d had the foresight to use waterproof ones.

He dried himself, got dressed, then headed back to his dorm. He paused to glare at the mostly-full bowl of food sitting on his desk, lightly chastising himself for forgetting to bring it to the kitchen. With a disgruntled noise, he flopped back onto his bed. He felt drained. Even after his shower, his eyes still felt dry and swollen from crying so much.

Lying on his side on top of his blanket, Izuku managed to drift off into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning was extremely frustrating. Izuku didn’t feel rested at all and he could already tell it’d be a bad sensory day. The morning started with missed calls from Gran Torino and Detective Tsukauchi. Izuku somehow hadn’t noticed his phone ringing.

He called both of them back, answering their worried questions shortly and humming quietly in the right places to indicate he was listening. He didn’t think either of them were convinced, both calls ending with a reminder to text them if he needed anything. He decidedly wasn’t going to do that.

The only things Izuku gathered from either of the calls was that Gran Torino had stepped up to be the one to plan Yagi’s private funeral and that Tsukauchi was caring for others as a coping mechanism.

Izuku felt a bit bad that he’d brushed Tsukauchi off, but he really didn’t know him very well. Izuku remembered the man had been friends with All Might and that he knew about One for All, but that wasn’t quite enough to be considered a trusted adult. Izuku absently wondered if his standards were too high.

Most of the day was spent with Izuku curled up on his side in bed. Occasionally he’d burst into tears and cry for a while, but generally he allowed his mind to drift. He only broke out of the haze the third time someone knocked on his door.

When he answered it, he was immediately pulled into a hug by Uraraka. She told him how worried she’d been and how she hadn’t seen him all day. He replied with the best smile he could muster up, telling her that he just needed some alone time and that he was coping fine.

He felt bad lying to her and even worse when-- by the look on her face-- she obviously didn’t believe him either. She stepped back, grabbing his hands. She told him that she’d always be there for him. He nodded.

After a gentle reminder to eat and drink water, as well as another bone-crushing hug, she left. Izuku closed the door quietly after she’d disappeared into the elevator. He limped to the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the smudged mirror.

He looked terrible. He was surprised by the dark bags under his eyes, even though he’d been sleeping so much. His skin was pale and his lips were dry from dehydration. Grimacing at his greasy hair, he made a short mental note to shower as soon as he could. He really could see why Urakara was so worried when he’d opened the door.

He looked like a corpse. Like Yagi had in that hospital bed, surviving on an IV line, breathing through a tube, dying, forgetting, leaving everyone he mattered to. Izuku’s breath sped up. He stepped back, his ankle smacking harshly against the doorframe. He hissed in pain, sliding to the floor with his back against the tiled wall.

He clawed at the neckline of his shirt, each breath short and rattling. Burying his head in his hands, he sobbed, trying to force the pressure on his lungs to subside. He tried counting, listing the things he could sense, and grounding himself by touching the things around him. None of the techniques worked and his vision grew blurry. He couldn’t tell if it was from lack of oxygen or his tears.

He sat there, pathetically wheezing and clutching at his throat for an indeterminate amount of time. He only began to calm down when he caught the sight of blood on his fingers. He’d torn open his cuticles from picking at them. He hadn't even noticed. He put his head in his hands, slowly counting out his inhales. He didn’t allow himself to focus on anything else until his vision was clear and he felt like he could take a deep breath again.

He stood, shakily using the wall to support himself and clenching his fist at the uncomfortable feeling of blood running down his fingertips. Closing his eyes to avoid looking in the mirror, he blindly turned on the tap and washed his face and hands. He left the room quickly.

He spent the rest of the day in bed, feeling empty and exhausted. He ignored the way his greasy hair felt against the skin on the back of his neck and the oil he could feel on his face. He felt disgusting but he didn’t want to have to pass through the common room to take a shower. He didn’t think he could handle seeing everyone grieving All Might, despite their right to do so.

Izuku felt so guilty for grieving wrong. Logically, he knew there was no wrong way to grieve. He knew that people process their losses in different ways. But he just couldn’t help but imagine how disappointed All Might would be in him.

His feet felt hot and damp from the blisters and his skin sat uncomfortably on his body. Izuku reminded himself to at least see Recovery Girl as soon as possible about his feet and hands. He didn’t want to be kept down for too long from an infection.

He dozed off for a while. When he woke, he pulled his blanket off himself and stepped out of his room after a small pep talk. He decided he needed to do the bare minimum to take care of himself, even if he wanted to curl up in a pit and stay there for the foreseeable future. He didn’t want to make everyone worry about him when they were processing their grief already. He didn’t need to pile on his problems on top of that. He was fine. He would be fine. He didn’t have a choice.

He brought his bowl down to the kitchen this time, washing it in the sink and putting it away. He even took a moment to speak to his friends, laying comforting hands on their shoulders and telling them kind words. His body felt disconnected from his mind as he spoke and the words felt a lot like lies as they left his mouth, but that was fine. He was helping, that’s what he was good for.

After a little while of reassuring Iida, Shinsou, Uraraka, Tsu, and Todoroki, he left to take a shower. After his skin and hair were clean, he did think he felt a little bit better. He didn’t go back to his room this time. By the visible relief on his friend’s faces, he could tell they assumed he was going to isolate himself again. He sat on the couch, sipping some tea Yaoyorozu had made for everyone and slowly munching on a protein bar.

He pretended he didn’t see the disappointment on Uraraka’s face when he didn’t head to the fridge to get an actual meal, even though the guilty feeling at the back of his mind returned again. He wasn’t hungry enough to need a meal. A protein bar had to count for something, right?

After Iida and Todoroki headed up to their rooms, Izuku did as well. As soon as he stepped into his dorm, he flopped onto his bed and fell asleep quickly.

The next week felt mundane. They returned to classes and patrols as if nothing had ever happened. With everyone acting normal, Izuku could almost believe that nothing had changed. He ignored the worried looks from his teachers and friends, shooting them wide grins every time he accidentally made eye contact.

For his friends, that seemed to assure them. Everyone in class was having a difficult time coping with the loss of their teacher and they all knew Izuku was closest to him, it was only logical that he’d need time to adapt. Izuku ran with that idea. He was fine, he just needed time to adapt.

He wasn’t eating or sleeping much anymore, but he was okay. He was just adjusting. His feet were constantly bleeding-- blistering. They refused to heal. But it was okay. He'd be back to normal soon.

Whenever he didn’t allow himself to slip into the space in the back of his mind where everything felt distant, he felt like he was drowning. He wanted to scream at everyone around him for moving on from Yagi’s death so easily. He was so angry that they were managing to cope and he wasn’t.

He refused to take anything out on the people around him. When he felt furious, he trained. When he felt like he wanted to break down and sob on the floor, he smiled, just like his mentor.

Each day Izuku felt like the hole in his heart was growing. Entering the second week after All Might’s death, with the funeral only a few days away, Izuku found himself having to intentionally avoid falling back into his old coping mechanisms from middle school.

Of course, he never did anything dangerous or harmful (besides chasing villain fights, maybe), but he had to force himself to drag his wandering gaze away from the tall buildings in the skyline. He would never do anything that impulsive, not while being the sole carrier of Yagi’s legacy, but he couldn’t help the way his mind chose to cope.

In the middle of the night, after hours of lying awake and staring at nothing, his mind wandered. How would he do it? Who would he choose to take on All Might’s quirk? Would he leave UA first?

In his solitude, he indulged in those thoughts, letting the shame that came with them settle deep in his chest. He would never do it. He was just adapting, the thoughts would go away soon, just like they had when he first arrived at UA. They would go away and Izuku would adapt. He was learning to be okay again, that’s all.

His thoughts were much easier to ignore in the daytime, as Izuku had to primarily focus on keeping up the facade of being okay and functional.

The day of Yagi’s private funeral, Izuku couldn’t bring himself to cry. As he stared at the polished white casket, knowing it held the corpse of the closest thing he’d ever had to a father, his eyes were dry. He wasn’t called up to speak.

After the funeral, Kacchan pulled him aside to scream in his face. Izuku hadn’t expected that, but he supposed he probably should’ve. His childhood friend had always handled his emotions by converting them into anger. He supposed Kacchan was mad that Izuku wasn’t crying, latching onto that fact as a way to handle the way he was feeling.

Izuku considered himself lucky that the other boy had at least waited until everyone else had left the building.

Kacchan accused him of not caring, of being an unworthy successor for not mourning All Might. Izuku didn’t say anything. He just hung his head, allowing the other student to rage.

“You were nothing to him but a leech on his fucking quirk, you fucking vulture! You always hung around powerful people hoping they’d carry you to the top, was this just the same to you?!” Kacchan screamed, spittle flying from his mouth as he snarled. His hands were smoking, his quirk barely kept under control.

Izuku knew the other boy didn’t really mean it, but that didn’t mean it was okay to say. His head shot up, his eyes narrowing. By the way Kacchan snapped his mouth shut took a step back, he realized he’d crossed a line.

Izuku didn’t say anything. He didn’t have a way to verbalize just how fucked up Bakugou’s words were. Without a backward glance, he walked away. He didn’t rush or storm off, but he was sure Bakugou saw the way his hands were clenching and unclenching.

That night, Izuku reflected on Bakugou’s words. Was he right? Was Izuku just an obligation to Yagi? Looking back on the time he and Yagi spent together, he shook his head. He may have been an obligation at first, but Yagi definitely wouldn’t have kept him around if he had continued to be so. He felt it’d be a high disrespect to even consider the idea that Yagi hadn’t cared about him.

The next day, Izuku found a note outside his door.

‘I’m sorry. That was shitty of me. Don’t forgive me yet, if you’re planning on it. I’m gonna keep working to be better. I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you. You of all people don’t deserve that. There’s katsudon in the fridge if you want it. If you don’t eat it I’ll kick your ass give it to someone else.’

Kacchan’s handwriting near the end was shaky as if he’d stopped to consider what was okay to write. Izuku could almost bring himself to genuinely smile at that. He wasn’t going to forgive Kacchan immediately, but he was glad to know that his childhood friend was at least making progress. He tucked the note in his desk drawer for safe keeping.

He ate a small bowl of the katsudon in the fridge later that day, even if the portion made him feel a bit sick.

Izuku wasn’t getting better as the weeks turned into a full month after Yagi’s death. He was able to smile and train and keep everyone thinking he was alright, but each day felt darker and darker. He took to sitting on the dorm roof at night when he couldn’t sleep. Choosing between staring at the stars and staying awake all night to avoid nightmares of his dying mentor was a fairly easy decision.

It became a habit. Whenever he was upset he’d find himself sitting on the roof of the dorms, staring absently at the sky no matter the weather.

On one such night, Aizawa found him there. Stepping out onto the roof, the man didn’t say anything. He sat down beside Izuku, leaning back to stare at the stars with him. It was a lot like that first time he’d sat on the bench, first having the news of his mentor’s rapidly declining health set in his mind.

Izuku thought he might have felt uncomfortable with Aizawa’s presence a few months ago, but he didn’t have the emotional energy to really care.

After a while, Aizawa spoke. “How are you handling it?” He said, his rumbling voice cutting through the silence.

Izuku didn’t reply for a long moment. “I’m… coping okay,” He said.

Aizawa turned, sitting up fully to look at Izuku. “No, you aren’t,” He replied, tone blunt.

Izuku tensed, then slowly sat up as well. He didn’t say anything in response.

His teacher sighed, reaching up to run his fingers along his capture weapon. “I’ve gotten the alert that you’re up here for hours every night. Anyone can see that you’re injured from training almost every day. You’re not sleeping. Judging by how much weight you’ve lost, I doubt you’re eating much either. Your hands are bleeding most of the time. You’re not coping, you’re just self-destructing.”

The man’s shoulders hunched and he kept speaking, ignoring Izuku’s noise of objection. “I was hoping you’d eventually come to an adult or your friends for support, but I probably should’ve known you wouldn’t feel comfortable with that. I’m sorry for not stepping in sooner.”

Izuku blinked, baffled. He hadn’t realized his teacher had noticed all of those things. He felt a spike of embarrassment that the man had spotted his problems so easily. He opened his mouth to reply, to disagree and insist that he was coping fine, but no words came out.

There was a pregnant pause, then Aizawa spoke again, his voice more emotional than Izuku had ever heard it.

“When I was in high school, I… had a friend who passed away. It was very unexpected and he had his whole life in front of him. For almost a year after that, I overworked myself to the point of injury and fatigue. I thought I needed to get better so nobody would ever get hurt on my watch again. I didn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, and I’d train until my hands bled,” Aizawa glanced at Izuku’s clenched fists pointedly. “Sound familiar?”

Izuku felt startled and exposed. He tapped his fingers against the sleeves of his hoodie rapidly, pushing down the urge to flee. He’d never seen this side of his teacher before and it was confusing. It explained a lot, but it also felt very sudden. He didn’t know what he could say. He couldn’t disagree with the man’s point, either, so he didn’t reply.

Aizawa nodded, as if Izuku had confirmed something. “You’re not alone, kid. There are people available who know what you’re going through. You can’t keep going on like this, do you understand? You’re destroying yourself.”

Izuku knew he was right. He knew he wasn’t actually adjusting to life without his mentor. His hands trembled and he stared down at his lap, his arms slouched in front of him.

Aizawa leaned forward, trying to make eye contact with Izuku. “Midoriya, kid... Please let someone help you. If not for yourself, then for Yagi. Anyone could see how much he cared about you. He would want you to keep moving forward. He’s gone now, and that… fucking sucks. But if you can’t move on for your own sake, at least try for his, yeah?”

At that, Izuku broke down. He sobbed into the sleeves of his hoodie, his tears soaking through the fabric. Aizawa moved to sit closer, letting Izuku lean on his shoulder as he cried.

Izuku cried for a long time, the man next to him patiently still and steadily murmuring random facts about the stars to calm Izuku down.

When Izuku’s tears ran out and his sobs turned into small sniffles and hiccups, he finally spoke.

“Does it ever really get better?” He asked in a small voice.

His teacher didn’t say anything for a long moment. “I don’t know. I wish I could say that the pain will all go away after a while, but I’m not sure it does. But… you learn to deal with it. It takes time and effort, but you will learn. After a while, instead of crying because you thought about them, you’ll be able to smile at the memories you had with them,” The man said. “Ugh, sorry, that sounds corny,” He added in a mutter.

Izuku snorted, wiping at his face with his sleeve. “Okay.”

Aizawa nodded, then turned back to look at the stars for a moment before standing. “Come on, kid. Let’s head inside before we both freeze to death.”

Nodding, Izuku stood and followed the man down the stairs. Surprisingly, his teacher didn’t lead him towards the student dorms, instead heading down to the kitchen.

“Coffee, green tea, or hot cocoa?” Aizawa asked, acting like it was an everyday occurrence to make a hot drink for one of his students after a mental breakdown.

“Um… hot chocolate, please?” Izuku said nervously.

Aizawa glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Sit down. You’re not in trouble. I just figured since it’s…” He glanced at the clock on the stove, “Four in the morning and I doubt either of us are going to catch any sleep, it’d only be logical to make something to drink. Don’t overthink it.”

Izuku saw through that excuse immediately. It was easy to see that Aizawa was being nice because he cared. Izuku didn’t say anything, though he couldn’t hold back a small smile.

A few minutes later, Aizawa placed a bowl of rice and a cup of hot cocoa in front of him.

At Izuku’s questioning look, Aizawa nodded to the food. “Eat. The first step in getting better is gonna have to be getting back on a regular eating schedule, so try to finish that bowl.”

Izuku stared at the rice for a moment, then slowly began to eat. He didn’t quite feel hungry, but he knew his teacher was right. He ate as much as he could, occasionally taking sips of his hot cocoa as Aizawa slowly sipped his coffee across the table from him.

He ended up not being able to finish the whole bowl of rice, but he managed to drink all of his hot chocolate so he counted it as a win. Despite what Aizawa had said about neither of them getting any sleep, Izuku felt about ready to pass out after eating so much.

Aizawa took one look at Izuku’s slouched posture and exhausted expression and snorted. He ruffled Izuku’s hair in a surprisingly affectionate motion, grabbing their dishes and moving back to the sink.

“Go to your room and get some sleep. We’ll talk about the next steps in the morning,” He said, turning on the sink and starting to wash their cups.

Izuku was too exhausted to argue or offer to help, yawning widely and dragging his feet to the elevator. As soon as he made it to his room, he limply fell face-first onto his bed, managing to fall asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. It was the best he’d managed to sleep in weeks.

The next day, Aizawa was true to his word. Izuku was called into a private office to talk about how he could move forward. Eventually, they settled for a lightly monitored eating schedule and therapy twice a week.

Leaving the meeting, Izuku hesitantly allowed himself to have hope for the future. He was willing to work to improve, just like he’d worked to get into UA in the first place.

The next few days were… rough. Adapting to having Aizawa or Present Mic check up on how much he’d eaten during the day or even sliding him snack foods during class was... difficult. He really appreciated their kindness, but it was embarrassing to have two adults know just how dysfunctional he was.

A week in, he managed to accept a sleeve of graham crackers from Present Mic after class without any nervous stuttering or excuses, and he was rewarded by the man shooting him a wide proud grin. Izuku made sure to eat all of the snacks they gave him after that.

He was recovering at a steady pace. By the third week, he’d gained back a majority of the weight he’d lost. Therapy was rough at first, but he quickly found that there was actually no pressure to immediately open up to a stranger. By the second week he even found himself able to slowly inch towards the subject of his unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Sometimes he even left the therapist’s office with a roll of stickers or a small animal-shaped eraser. He felt they were a bit childish, but he still enjoyed them.

But, his recovery wasn’t linear. There were definitely bad days. Sometimes he couldn’t convince himself to get out of bed, instead curling up under the blankets and only managing to get up when Aizawa took the time to bring him meals. Sometimes Izuku still found himself bursting into tears at the slightest mention of All Might. On some days, even when everything seemed fine, he had to draw his eyes away from rooftops again, even though he was feeling okay.

It was rough. Therapy helped more as the weeks went by. He was finally able to start working through his feelings about All Might’s death and the circumstances around it.

It also helped that Aizawa and Present Mic supported him. Izuku had expected Aizawa to give up on him after he accidentally skipped three meals in a row for the fourth time, but the man didn’t. He just sighed, made Izuku a bowl of rice with natto, and sat with him until he managed to eat it all.

Izuku didn’t quite know how to handle the support. He felt like a burden sometimes, like he was just another obligation to his teachers. He saw how tired Aizawa looked all the time and he only felt like he was adding to it. He tried to break out of that mentality, and even though he was mostly successful in deterring the thought, it still popped up in his low moments.

In the sixth week after his breakdown and the third month after Yagi’s death, Izuku was surprised to realize that… he didn’t feel the urge to cry at the thought of Yagi. Sure, it still stung to know that he was gone, but… the reminder of his mentor was met with a fond memory rather than instant tears. That realization made Izuku excited enough to knock on Aizawa’s door, something he’d never quite felt comfortable with yet.

His teacher just smiled softly, ruffling Izuku’s hair and telling him that he’d made good progress and that he was proud of him. Izuku shot the man a beaming grin, then left quickly to go work on his homework.

He still had times when the thought of Yagi made him want to cry, especially when thinking about Yagi’s last days in the hospital, but with the help of therapy and the support of his friends, he felt like he could work through those emotions without leaning on self-destructive behaviors.

Him and Kacchan were steadily making amends, the other boy frequently using food as a way to apologize to Izuku about what he’d said after the funeral. Izuku appreciated it, and no matter how many times he told Kacchan that he’d already forgiven him, his childhood friend still insisted on cooking him meals at least twice a week.

Despite all the steps he'd taken towards recovery, Izuku still couldn’t bring himself to visit Yagi’s grave. The thought made him uncomfortable and frustrated. It was almost like… seeing Yagi’s grave would mean he was really gone forever. Of course, logically Izuku already knew that, but for some reason he felt like seeing the gravestone would make it permanent. More real, at least.

In therapy, they talked about those feelings. His therapist told him that grief isn’t logical and that he didn’t have to rush himself. Yagi wouldn’t be upset that Izuku needed time before visiting his final resting spot.

It took a little under four months of therapy and lots of mental pep talks for Izuku to feel ready to go visit Yagi’s grave. Aizawa, Present Mic, and his friends offered to go with him, but Izuku told them he wanted to go alone. Aizawa and Mic understood, but his friends were a bit more hesitant.

Izuku understood that. He’d come clean to them about how he was coping after his second month of therapy and most of them had partially blamed themselves for not noticing. No matter how often Izuku reassured them, he had no doubt the idea lingered.

As Izuku was leaving to head to the cemetery, Shinsou searched his expression for a minute, then nodded. His friend reassured the others, nodding to Izuku to indicate he’d keep them from following.

Izuku smiled at him, nodding in thanks. He left the dorms at a slow pace, not quite procrastinating but using the time to work off his hesitance. The day was warm and he basked in the gentle sunlight shining on his skin. The air smelled sweet and the cherry blossom trees on the side of the road were just starting to bloom.

As he walked, he went by bustling shopping streets and food vendors, smiling at the people he passed. A few people looked like they wanted to stop him for pictures or an autograph, but they seemed to sense that he was on a mission and they all kept a respectful distance.

Izuku stopped at a small flower shop on the way to the cemetery, picking out a few specific flowers and allowing the florist to arrange them. He paid quickly, leaving the shop and continuing on his way.

He stood outside the cemetery gates for a long moment, then stepped through them with a deep shaky breath. He walked through the wide span of graves for a while, ignoring the All Might memorial statues and art pieces he passed as he walked. He wasn’t there for All Might, he was there for Yagi. While others were mourning a persona, Izuku needed to find closure in visiting the man behind it.

He found the real grave nestled in the corner of the cemetery in the shade of a flowering apple tree. Izuku sat before the gravestone, staring at the name plainly carved above the birth and death years.

It felt too simple for Yagi’s grave. Izuku figured they must have gone all out on the other grave they made for All Might.

He laid the flowers he'd bought down on the surface of the smooth black stone, brushing dry petals to the side from the dead roses resting nearby. Gran Torino or Tsukauchi must have left them at some point. Izuku hoped they wouldn’t mind him replacing their flowers.

Izuku was quiet for a long time, just staring at the gravestone and fiddling with one of the flowers in front of him.

When he spoke, his voice felt too loud in the quiet space, even with the gentle rustling of the leaves above him.

“I was angry at you for… a long time. After you died, that is. I… couldn’t understand why you’d want to leave us. Leave me. I’d always pictured…” He paused, letting out a humorless laugh. “I know it’s childish, but I always pictured making the title of number one hero with you by my side. I really thought I’d always have you around to guide me.”

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed softly. “It took me a lot of time, but I think I understand now. I understand just how much pain you must have been feeling all the time to come to the conclusion that death was your only escape from it. I’m sorry for not seeing that sooner.”

“Nothing that can be done now, but I’m still sorry,” Izuku took a deep breath, glancing around before his gaze fell on the stone again. “I know you can’t hear me, but I still want to make you proud. I’m going to. I need to, y’know? You were like a father to me. You were there from the very beginning when I was… just a hopeful stringbean fanboy.”

Izuku chuckled shortly, then continued solemnly. “I grieved for you for months. I felt like I needed to suffer to prove that you were important to me. It took me a while, but I realized how wrong that was. You wouldn’t want me to suffer, I don’t think. That doesn’t seem like you.”

He ran his fingers over the stem of one of the flowers. “I graduate in a few months, you know. I’m… trying not to follow exactly in your footsteps. I never got a chance to ask if… if that would be okay. I never got that answer. That makes me angry, sometimes. I don’t blame you, but it… fucking stings to know I can’t move forward knowing it’s in a direction you would be proud of.”

He shifted to kneel. “I already said my goodbyes to you, but my therapist said I needed closure. I guess this counts for that, at least. It doesn’t compare to talking to you in person, but this is the best I have. I miss you every day, but I’m getting better. I can go on social media without crying now, even, and you know how big of a crybaby I am.”

Izuku placed the flower he was holding back down with the others. “It’s… a step in the right direction, I hope. I’m gonna keep getting better. I wish I could linger and grieve you forever, but I don’t think you’d have wanted that. It used to feel disrespectful to move on, but… I can’t wallow in my hurt forever. As Aizawa says, it’s just not logical. So… I think I’m gonna let myself be selfish, just this once.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I love you, but I’m gonna move forward, alright?” Izuku asked, almost feeling like Yagi was sitting right next to him.

Izuku gave a small smile, turning his head up to stare at the falling petals from the apple tree.

After a while, he stood, staring at the black stone. He wiped the tears from his face, not even having realized he’d been crying.

“I’m gonna try to be okay, now,” He shot the grave one last beaming smile, tears still in his eyes, then turned and walked back down the winding paths towards the cemetery gates, leaving the shade of the blossoming apple tree.

The bouquet of peace lilies, blue irises, and magnolias rested on the warm stone behind him.