Chapter Text
~time skip, during the epilogue arch
Toya was dying right in front of him, and it hurt.
The brother that he thought he had lost, was dying, for real this time. Just as quickly as they lost him the first time. In all honesty, he had never come back, he wasn't even sure Toya was the same person anymore.
He looked into the villain's bloodshot eyes for the first time since the war and Toya looked back. Grey eyes met blue. They looked scared, the same little kid Natsuo knew all so well, and not at all.
The sharpness of his throat didn't allow him to speak, only swallow, slowly, painfully. Biting back the tears.
Sure, he was angry at Toya, for leaving him, for becoming a villain, for dying on him now, but he couldn't help but think this was not the way it would end. Not the way he wanted it to end. He had to do something to get his brother back.
The conversation was a timid back and forth between Dabi and Enji. the sound of their voice had drained out in Natsuo's mind. He could see that they were talking; he had no idea what they were talking about.
He glanced over at Shoto, who looked more emotional than Natsuo had ever seen him. His shoulders were curved inwards, protecting himself and his eyes were dead, staring at Toya. Staring past Toya.
His jaw slacked, like he was going to say something but before he had the chance a lanky, level-headed man called out “he’s used the last of his strength, let's not overwhelm too much today. Try again tomorrow”
Surely the guard knew there might not be a tomorrow
Natsuo moved forward to protest until he felt the hand of Fuyumi reach in front of him. He looked up; Fuyumi shook her head. Natsuo sighed.
Instead shoto stood forward
“may we have a minute more, I need to ask him one more question”
—
“Brother, I want to know, what is your favourite thing to eat?” Shoto asked.
He winced when his brother gave no response. Since when did Shoto care about materialistic things like favourite foods?
His favourite food had always been soba, it had always been the easiest answer when people asked him so he just went with it. Recently, he felt that soba was genuinely his favourite food, not because it was an easy answer. But rather, it tasted nice and he liked the way the cold noodles would run smoothly down his throat.
“Soba” his brother forces out. His voice is raspy, hardly any life left in it. The life left is clinging to materialistic things like his favourite food.
“that's mine too”
Toya looked tired, his eyes were glazed over, blank.
Shoto thought to himself for a minute, and smiled, when Toya is better they'll eat soba together.
He swore he heard Toya mutter an apology under his breath
Toya will never be better, everyone knows this, he's dying in this room. This will likely be the last time Shoto sees him.
It hurts. His head, chest, and body aches. Shoto can't help but think, what if it didn't end that way.