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They never tell you just how long dying takes. It’s a process, watching as each system fails. The heart stops pumping properly, the skin goes cold and discolored. The brain stops working. Confusion, that was one of the hardest parts. Having him look at Midoriya and not really recognizing him.
Toshinori, All Might. He was always supposed to be this beacon of hope, the foundation of society. Strong, always so strong, and smiling. To see him bedridden, unable to truly lift his head without exacerbating all his energy. The two images were dissonant in Midoriya’s mind. It just didn’t make sense, none of this did. This wasn’t supposed to happen, this wasn’t how he was supposed to go.
That last week was truly the hardest. Toshinori was more dead than alive at that point, eyes yellow and sunken in, fingers boney and cold. They were already so cold, even while his heart was still beating. Why were they so cold?
It was a waiting game and Midoriya hated it. He hated every raspy breath, every dry cough, every moan of pain. A part of him just wanted it to be over. A different part hated him for even thinking that.
He wasn’t sure what to expect when it actually happened. Everyone talks about how violent it is, the gasping for air, the panic in their eyes. But it wasn’t like that for him.
It was pure chance that Midoriya was even there when it happened. He made visiting Toshinori part of his daily routine. Wake up, breakfast, class, lunch, class, hospital, homework, dinner, sleep. Well, sleep was the plan. It rarely happened those last few days, hours bleeding on, anxiety crawling in his stomach about when it was going to happen. Would tonight be his last?
Toshinori died on a warm Monday afternoon, just after a rain shower.
It seemed fitting, the Symbol of Peace passing on with the sun turning his hair golden, almost angelic. And it was quick. A gasp, and then he was gone. Almost like falling asleep.
Midoriya didn’t remember much after that. He stayed there, sitting on his bed, holding Toshinori’s cold hand as he sobbed and sobbed, not willing to let go. At some point, someone guided him away. Gave him some food that he couldn’t even taste, like sand in his mouth. He eventually made it home. Home, not back in the dorms. A home where his mom cooked him a warm meal and held him close and let him fall apart.
He returned to class a few days later. He had to. Toshinori was gone but there was still work he needed to do. He had to go on, to be the hero Toshinori would have wanted. Even if his heart burned in his chest.
The others treated him differently and he hated it. Midoriya just wanted everything to go back to normal, was that so hard to ask? Why was all the attention on him, he didn’t do anything? This wasn’t about him. He lashed out at the 6th person to ask him how he was doing, Jirou maybe. Snapped at her even though she was grieving, he had no right. He remembers Todoroki guiding him away and breaking down once more. He went home for the rest of the day.
The first night Midoriya spent back in the dorms was one of the worst. His room was covered in All Might, everywhere he looked he saw the face of his idol. The face he saw yellowed and sunken in, eyes glassy and-
He slept on the couch that night, much like he did in his own house.
Iida found him there in the morning, concern clear on his face though he held his tongue. Midoriya was grateful for that. Iida didn’t mention the circled under his eyes, eyes that were duller than usual. He didn’t mention how hoarse his voice was, how pale he seemed. Iida didn’t mention any of that. He put a cup of tea in Midoriya’s hand and some rice in front of him and simply sat with him for a while.
Midoriya didn’t appreciate his friends enough.
Especially that night when everyone was getting ready for bed. Midoriya must have had a panicked look in his eye, or maybe he didn’t. Maybe Todoroki just knew, as he wordlessly guided Midoriya to his own room, set up an extra futon for him, and turned off the lights.
Maybe Todoroki also knew how much he needed this when Midoriya crawled into his futon at 1 am. Maybe Todoroki knew how much Midoriya needed to just be held as the nightmares plagued him once more. That’s what friends are for after all.
He didn’t remember the rest of the week. Sure, somewhere he took notes in class, he participated in training, he ate lunch with his friends and life moved on. But he wasn’t really there. Like an out of body experience, watching everything happen but not processing it.
It rained during the funeral. Poetic but it didn’t fit who Toshinori is. Who he was. Hundreds of people showed up, Thousands more watching from home. Not that Midoriya expected anything less. He was just another face in the crowd, another person All Might affected. Why did people treat him differently? Why was he special, he shouldn’t be. He wasn’t. He was one of Toshinori’s students, just like the hundred or so other students here. He was one of the people All Might saved, like so many of the hundreds of people here. He was one of the people who looked up to All might, like the thousands in the nation.
It didn’t matter that Toshinori was the only father he really knew. It didn’t matter that they would eat lunch together every Thursday or that he had him on speed dial. It didn’t matter that he talked to Toshinori about anything and everything, about growing up and his struggles. It didn’t matter that they shared hard times and celebrated success together. None of that mattered because Toshinori was gone. He was gone, there would be no more lunches or training or spilling his heart as the sunset and he felt like he found someone he could truly relate to, could fully trust. It didn’t matter.
Midoriya wasn’t sure when he started crying again. He only knew when Ochako handed him some tissues from her own stash, when Iida placed a knowing hand on his shoulder in comfort. When Todoroki stayed with him long after the service was over, staring at the headstone like it could give him some cosmic answer as to why this all happened.
Midoriya stayed with Todoroki again that night.
But time went on, as it tends to do. People started healing, the nation started to recover from the death of their hero. His class started to smile again, hang out and joke and move on.
And Midoriya hated it.
He hated how easy it was for everyone else, how they could recover so quickly. How could they move on while he was stuck, glassy blue eyes haunting him every night, words so hoarse he could barely make them out looping in his head? Why was he the one stuck in this torturous cycle, why wasn’t he strong enough to move on?
Midoriya knew his friends were getting annoyed with him. They were trying to help, and he knew that. But he only had so much energy in the day, and that energy went to school. He couldn’t fall behind. But that didn’t mean it didn’t sting when Iida’s expression stiffened when he declined to hang out or when Ochako wore that stupidly sad smile on her face when she caught him staring off into the distance, seeing something that no one else could see.
He still stayed with Todoroki every night.
Perhaps that’s what was holding him back. Midoriya couldn’t bear to be in his room for longer than a few minutes at a time. Enough to change clothes or grab something.
A part of him wanted to take down the posters and figurines and anything else he collected him. A bigger part of him wouldn’t disrespect Toshinori’s memory like that.
It was Todoroki who helped him reach a decision. It was always Todoroki, if Midoriya was being honest. Todoroki was there for him whenever he needed it, grounding him with a pinky wrapped around his own or a hand on his shoulder or arms around his waist.
His guardian angel.
He’s the one that recommended setting up a small shrine to Toshinori and pack the rest away for now. Not to dishonor him, but to give Midoriya time to properly process, time to grieve.
He’s the one that helped Midoriya do just that, one Saturday afternoon. It took a while, Midoriya would often get distracted thinking about happier times, thinking about those final days with his mentor. Todoroki always gave him room to cry.
When they were done Midoriya felt lighter than he had ever since Toshinori passed. A few photos of the two of them together, some trinkets Toshinori gave him, some candles. A poster of All Might at Kamino served as a backdrop. It was nice. He finally felt a bit of peace, like a bandaid over his heart.
He didn’t have to stay with Todoroki anymore. That didn’t stop him from asking Todoroki to spend the night. It didn’t stop Todoroki from saying yes.
Things got better from there. Spring turned to summer turned to fall and Midoriya healed. There would always be moments or days that were worse than others. Days where he remembered a booming laugh and a brilliant smile and home. Days where he remembered heart monitors beeping and oxygen machines wiring and raspy coughs.
But he was never alone on those days. Ochako, Iida, Todoroki, they helped. With distractions, with silent company, with letting Midoriya cry in their arms. Todoroki was the one to take care of the latter.
He tried not to overthink that too much.
Midoriya wasn’t sure when it happened but one day he realized that he didn’t remember the bad times as much. Whenever he thought of his lost mentor he only remembered shared lunches and late conversations and boney hugs. Where he remembered why he wanted to become a hero in the first place.
He no longer wanted to become a hero like All Might. No, he wanted to be more, to surpass his mentor’s shadow in a way he knew the other would be proud of. And he didn’t have to do it alone. That was the first step to becoming someone better.
Midoriya looked at his friends and he smiled, true and bright, and the world smiled back.