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It was raining that day. Fitting for the news they were about to receive, of course. The morning had been confusing and chaotic. Each student was shaken awake by a teacher carefully and brought to the common area with no further explanation. One by one, the students joined their classmates, equally perplexed by the commotion.
But one student never came.
Faculty members moved through the rooms in silence, and caution tape lined the hallways.
The students could not be more unprepared for whatever news they were to receive, they realized.
Principal Nedzu was the one who broke the news, and a melancholy expression wormed its way onto his face. Not one student believed what was happening. It was simply unreal.
Todoroki Shoto had committed suicide.
1. Momo Yaoyorozu
Logically, Momo decided it was simply impossible for the teachers to lie about something so horrible; it was cruel, unjust, and highly unprofessional. She could never believe the teachers would do such a thing.
But he was Todoroki. He was perfect, wasn't he? He couldn't have been struggling, could he? The kind-hearted Todoroki? The Todoroki who never lost his cool in battle?
The Todoroki, who was the first person to ever believe in her? He couldn't be gone. He could never be gone.
It was only until the funeral when things finally became real. His name was engraved in stone, the life he led defined by one simple dash between his birthday and the last day of his life. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. Todoroki's life was so profound in ways that couldn't be summed up by the tearful eulogies given by his family or the messages of love from his friends.
She hated all of this. She hated the tears that his family shed, she hated the black dresses and gloomy skies, but most of all, she hated the fact that Todoroki wasn't here. That was all she wanted--to see Todoroki's face again. To see his rare smile and kind heart.
What hurt the most was that she would never, ever, ever see him again. There was nothing she wouldn't give to see her friend’s face one last time.
A week after the funeral, Aizawa had called a few students to his office. Momo, along with Iida, Bakugo, Midoriya, was seated inside. Their teacher's face was littered with dark circles and exhaustion, and Momo couldn't blame him.
"Todoroki left notes behind for each of you," he said. "You can read them when you're ready, or not at all. It's up to you. Once again, the grief counselor is available to any of you. Christ, I can't do this." Aizawa's head fell in his hands, and he rubbed his face unceremoniously. "The grief counselor is available to any of you," he continued after a moment, "so please don't be afraid to come to see them. A few students already have, but I noticed none of you have taken up the offer. Please don't hesitate to do so."
Aizawa pulled five small envelopes from his desk drawer. He kept one for himself, and he passed the other four to each of the students. Momo’s name was scrawled in Todoroki's effortlessly neat handwriting. A part of her twinged; this envelope contained a message intended for herself and herself alone.
"I suggest you read them alone," Aizawa noted. "I don't know what they contain, but they may contain personal messages. So out of respect for Todoroki, you may want to read these by yourself."
And that's precisely what Momo did as she made her way to her room that afternoon. She stared at the envelope with a blank expression. Her heart raced as she gently peeled back the cat sticker that held the letter shut. Her soft hands carefully pinched the note inside and removed the neatly folded paper.
She took a deep breath and acknowledged the fact that this would be the last time Todoroki would communicate with her ever again; his last words to her, from himself to Momo.
She unfolded the note and gave it a read.
Dear Yaoyorozu,
I hope you're well. I have no idea when (or if) you'll get around to reading this, but I hope you do. You've always been very kind to me since the beginning of the school year. So, thank you. Please don't let this affect you too much if it has. You're a smart student, and you're very powerful to go with it. I hope you believe in yourself.
Thank you so much for being a great friend to me and always making me tea, and also helping me study for English. Please don't feel as though your kind efforts came to waste; you always cheered me up when I was upset and were an excellent friend to me. I’m glad we were partners for the midterms. I learned a lot from you.
You're so capable and intelligent, so I know you'll go far in the hero industry, and if you change your mind and go a different route, you'd succeed there too. You'll be great anywhere, really.
And I'm sorry, too. I just couldn't do it anymore, and nothing anyone said or did could've changed that. It's no one's fault but my own. I hope you forgive me and don't hate me for doing something so selfish.
Thank you for everything,
Shoto Todoroki
Yaoyorozu's heart crumbled. Hate him? How could she ever hate Todoroki? If anything, she should be the one apologizing to him. She wasn't a good enough friend, and now he was gone…
...no. That type of self-blame isn't something Todoroki would've wanted, she remembered.
She stood up and refolded the note, delicately placing it in her top drawer.
It was a note she’d cherish for a lifetime.
2. Tenya Iida
Iida had decided to wait a week before opening the note. It needed to be the right place, the right time before he could do anything.
As the class rep, it was his job to keep things under control for his classmates and be a pillar of support to all of them. So, he never cried. Everyone else had, though, save for Bakugo and (strangely) Midoriya. He simply couldn't allow himself to cry whilst others were hurting. But his heart hurt far too much to bear, and he had to compensate for the bottled pain some other way. For Iida, it was running. He left the dorms and ran; he ran until his engines finally gave out, and he found himself painfully collapsed on cement. He dusted himself off and rose to his feet.
Where was he?
He took in his surroundings; tall buildings, towers, and...oh. He was right outside Manual's agency. This was Hosu city.
Of course, he ended up here, the place where he, Midoriya, and Todoroki had taken down the infamous hero killer. He had always admired Todoroki for his bravery that day. He had an incredible drive in him and stayed true to himself.
Most importantly, however, Todoroki saved him, both from the Hero Killer and from himself. Iida was forever grateful. But what stung Iida the most, both as a class rep and a human being was that he never returned the favor. Did Todoroki know he was loved when he died?
That was a stupid question. If Todoroki knew he was loved, he never would've killed himself.
So he felt unloved, then? Was that it?
Why? Why would he do something like that? Why would he kill himself?
What on Earth was hurting his friend so much that he saw ending his life as his only option?
The reason for Todoroki's actions didn't matter. It would never matter. The reality of the situation was that his classmate was dead. No amount of questioning would ever bring him back.
As the class rep, it was his responsibility to support the other students. He failed. If only he had just said something earlier, if only he had just taken the time to piece together the disturbing signs and realize that something was very much not okay, if only he knew, maybe it wouldn't have come down to this. Now everyone has left to pay the ultimate consequences, the worst possible outcome from his own inability to be a good leader.
So, he found himself wandering around the city. For the past week, his heart had been filled with a feeling he never knew. He had never known that this level of sadness was even possible.
He was alerted back to his surroundings after he tripped on a cement block sticking out of the ground. He lifted his head and took in the view.
A recycling bin stood on his left, and brick walls lined the sides of his vision. This was an alleyway; this was Ekou street, the exact location where the three boys fought together. It made sense why his legs had carried him here. He sad on the rough ground, ignoring the dust that would later find its way onto his pants.
The envelope was in his trembling hands. It looked just like a standard letter would; his name was scribbled on the front, and a cute cat sticker kept the envelope closed. But inside held a message from a broken classmate, and Iida had to read it. This, he decided, was the right time.
Dear Iida,
Please don't think that what I did makes you a failure or any less of a class rep. This happened through no fault of your own. It was my personal decision, and nothing could change that. That's the first thing I want to get out of the way. I don't want you to feel guilty.
You've been not only an excellent class rep but also a fantastic friend. You were one of the first people I talked to at school, and since then, we've gotten along quite well. Thanks for being a friend to me.
Honestly, though, I'm worried about you. Your emotions get the best of you at times (though this is hypocritical, coming from me), and I don't want that to hurt you in the future. Please take care of yourself. And relax every once in a while, too. It's okay to relax and let yourself feel emotions.
I hope you don’t feel too upset by my actions. I’m sorry.
Anyway, you're terrific hero material. You'll be the best Ingenium this country has ever seen. I’m sorry I can’t bring myself to live that day with you.
Thanks for everything,
Shoto Todoroki
"Wow…" Iida sighed. "I should be thanking you," he whispered. "You were such a great friend...you are such a great friend. You saved my life."
Iida placed the note in his uniform pocket.
"Todoroki," he said out loud. "I'll take your advice, alright? Never forget who I want to become, you said?" Iida chuckled dryly. “Christ, Todoroki. You’re a great hero, you know that?”
3. Shota Aizawa
One of his students, one of his kids, died on his watch. Pathetic. And then he was given a note to read? From a student whom he allowed to suffer? No, he was unworthy of reading it. He was a teacher, and it was his job to protect his kids. It was his job to notice the signs.
But he never did. There's a statistic that says 25% of suicidal people never showed any outward symptoms of depression. Shota knows that isn't true. 25% of suicidal people had shitty teachers who were too stupid to notice that a student was suffering.
And someone died as a consequence. His student’s had death left the faculty reeling; even Hizashi shut up afterward. Endeavor resigned from hero duty, and Hawks became the number one hero as a result. It was just another change in the system, it didn't matter.
But other than that, however, the rest of the world went back to normal. A few months passed, and it was as if Shoto Todoroki didn’t matter at all; he never had a dorm, he never got into UA, he never touched the lives of so many people.
There was no evidence that he had even existed at all; no evidence that a student had lived here and made friends here and loved and died all the same. No evidence, other than an empty desk, a stone in the ground, and a body buried six feet underground.
Sure, some things were permanently altered. Midoriya spoke less and sighed more, and Bakugo stopped yelling at people altogether.
But there was no monumental change. The world hadn't turned upside down. The sun rose and set, the birds still flew and squawked, and the teachers still taught as usual.
So why was Shota the only one who felt so utterly destroyed? Why?
The note he was given collected dust in his drawer. It would just be too much to read it.
But then the Sports Festival came. His class became second years. As the semifinals rolled around, he remembered the first moment where Shota had realized that goddamn, that kid is incredible . This time around, there were no brilliant displays of fire or great walls of ice. The fights were good, sure, but it wasn't the same.
This year, Iida won the Sports Festival. Midoriya chose not to participate with no further explanation, and ironically, Bakugo threw the match in his final round. Iida grabbed the boy's shirt, sprinted, and threw him out of the ring. Bakugo didn't use his quirk to fight back, and no one from class 1A questioned why.
If Todoroki could see this, Shota decided, he would've laughed at Bakugo for throwing the match. He would never let him live it down.
Shota wondered how Todoroki would've fared if he were still here. He would've been amazing. If he was alive to continue training, his technical prowess would've skyrocketed, and he would've probably won the whole thing himself. Or would he? It was too much to tell.
He forgot some of the little details about the boy, like the temperature of his flames or the size of his ice. It was a truth that bothered him to no end.
As the sun set and the students returned to their dorms, Shota remained in school, opening Todoroki's file once again. Seeing the boy's face made his eyes misty, and it took him a moment to calm down.
Notes:
His quirk is powerful. No apparent weaknesses. Excellent decision making and judgment. Moderate control over fire. Doesn't talk much, he'll have to work on interpersonal skills. Ice technique is flawless. Will become a top hero, almost guaranteed.
But he never did become a top hero, Shota realized. He died before he ever got the chance.
As he put the file away, a note teased him from his drawer. A note left unopened but undiscarded. He never planned on reading it; everything about the letter had to be kept in perfect condition. Even though the message was intended for him to read, he didn't want to touch it.
Would reading it help? Or make things infinitely worse? He couldn't tell, but he decided to open the note anyway.
He dried his sweaty hands in hopes of preventing any damage to his student's handwriting.
Dear Aizawa-sensei,
First of all, I'm sorry for ignoring any mess I must've left behind. It must've been a massive hassle for you and the school. I'm sorry about any incomplete work too. I guess I can't make it up now, but I am sorry. I know what I did was selfish, but I just couldn't handle things anymore. There was nothing anyone could've ever done to stop me.
You've been a great teacher to me, and I learned so much. Being a part of your class was the most fun I ever had. I don't think you can ever understand how grateful I am to you. This may sound weird, but you were like a father to me when I needed one the most. All of the class feels the same way too. Please don't doubt yourself; you're a fantastic teacher. You mean a lot to all of us.
So I guess it's fitting to say goodbye, dad.
And of course, thank you for everything.
Thank you for being far more than a teacher.
From,
Shoto Todoroki
As Shota finished the letter, his office door opened. Hizashi's head peeked through the crevice. He hurried inside the room as soon as he saw the sight to comfort the man, but there was nothing he could do. He enveloped Shota in a hug and held him as his loud sobs echoed in the empty building.
4. Dabi
Dear Dabi,
I know we never interacted except when you were kidnapping my friend, but I'm sure if you've seen the news, you probably know that I'm dead. This is going to be awkward if I'm wrong, but my brother died when I was a kid. Your hair and your eyes are just like his. Your quirk, too. I have a theory that you're a relative of mine, on my dad's side. I don't know if my dad has any brothers, though, so I guess it doesn't really make sense.
Part of me wants to think you're my brother, but that doesn't make sense either since he's dead, and you're a villain, but if by some miracle you ARE him, thank you. Thank you so much for being there for me when I was younger. Thank you for protecting Fuyumi, Natsuo, and I.
You taught me how to ride a bike. We used to sneak out of the house late at night, just the two of us. We explored the city and raced back before the sun rose. Remember that?
You tried making cold soba what one time, and even though you kind of messed up at the end, it was still the best soba I ever ate. So thank you. You used to make me smile so much when I was younger.
I still love you and think about you. I miss you too.
Thanks for being the best big brother,
Shoto Todoroki
Dabi had received that note from Hawks when news of the dual-user's death made the headlines, and it was strange to receive.
It was nine o'clock in the evening when Dabi had left the house. He had bought the ingredients for a special meal that he wanted to make. He had only cooked it once before, but he decided to try again tonight.
Seventeen failed attempts later, he finally produced the perfect dish.
He left the hideout at eleven, explaining to the others that he had an errand to run, and he would be back shortly.
He brought with him the food and a few flowers as climbed over the fence that separated the graveyard from the street. It was located in one of the better parts of town. The roads were clean, and the air was fresh.
He placed the food in front of a gravestone--cold soba. He gently laid roses next to the noodles he cooked.
It was moments like these where Dabi had wished he was able to cry. It was better than feeling like...this.
His watch beeped. 12 AM.
"Happy birthday, little brother." He said. "I love you too."
5. Katsuki Bakugo
After three years of intense training, countless villain attacks, and grueling exams, class 3A finally graduated.
Well, most of it, anyway.
Katsuki's heart sank when Nedzu had read from Shoji to Tokoyami, skipping over one boy's name. He should've graduated. But he didn't. He succumbed to whatever was going on inside his head and landed up buried in the ground rather than at graduation. It was stupid.
Words couldn't describe how pissed off he was at IcyHot. He was so furious he couldn't even yell or shout; all he could do was stay silent. Instead of facing reality like a hero, the decided to be a damn quitter instead. But even Katsuki himself knew it wasn't that kid's fault. He just lost the battle with his mind. Katsuki understood.
He never wanted to admit it, but he was really only angry with himself.
He should've helped the kid out. He saw the way he looked out of the window solemnly during lectures, or how exhausted he looked whenever the rest of the class was having fun. If only he had said something.
But oh boy, did Katsuki have so many regrets. So many.
He wished he had a real fight with the guy. He wished that he got to spar with him one last time, for real.
But most importantly, he wished he didn't yell so much–God, why did he only scream at the guy? Why was he always screaming at him?
He wished he had the chance to really talk to him. He wished he had treated him better. He wished things hadn’t lead to this.
Katsuki treated Shoto horribly.
And now, he was facing the consequences.
Everywhere he looked and went, the dual user followed him. He could see him as a strange type of hallucination. He was watching him from the stands during the Sports Festival finale, and sitting on the stage during their graduation. His face was always kind, though. He wasn't judgmental. Instead, the boy's face was patient and kind.
That, Katsuki decided, was the real punishment.
As the class made their way back to the dorms, they were given a week to clear out their rooms. Icy's dorm was completely untouched (save for the removal of his body), but the family had given the okay for someone to clean it out. They just couldn't be the ones to do it.
And Katsuki understood that. No one from class A had so much as looked inside of it. The door was closed, and all anyone wanted was to protect the sanctity of the room. Even though Todoroki was buried and his body resided elsewhere, he had died in that room. Katsuki wasn't superstitious or anything, but that's kind of where that kid's spirit was...right?
If it was cleaned out, would the boy finally disappear from his mind? Would the torture finally end?
"I'll clear out IcyHot's room," Katsuki said after the class settled into the common room. As expected, everyone's faces fell at the fond mention of the nickname. Deku left the room the minute Katsuki said "IcyHot,” and the rest of the class protested.
"You can't just touch the guy's stuff, can you?!" Kaminari exclaimed.
"We shouldn't go in there," Kirishima added. "That's like...where Todoroki is , you know? No one's been inside there since Todoroki...you know. Left. I think we should keep it that way."
"But someone's gotta do it. If anyone else wants to, be my guest."
No one responded.
"What about Midoriya?" Yaoyorozu questioned.
"He still hasn’t moved on from what happened," Uraraka responded. "I think it might be a little much for him to clean Todoroki’s room out, you know?"
Everyone murmured in agreement.
"Bakugo should do it," Iida piped in. "Anyone else who wants to help out is free to join."
No one ended up joining him, though. Everyone else was either totally against the idea of going into the boy’s room, or wouldn't be able to handle going inside.
Deku had shown his face, though. He grabbed a plain white shirt from the dresser and left.
Katsuki put his things into boxes and felt the boy's patient gaze on his back. Todoroki was watching him as he went through the boy's stuff. It was indeed a strange feeling. The whole room smelled of soba noodles and Todoroki. It was his smell. Katsuki never paid attention to it before, but now he could recognize it in a heartbeat. His heart clenched.
One by one, he neatly placed the boy's items in cardboard boxes, being careful not to touch anything too much. He recognized some of the clothes: he recalled the turtle necks the boy used to wear, and nearly lost it putting away a hero costume that would never be worn again.
When Katsuki was around three-quarters of the way done, he had to read his letter before Todoroki was gone for good. Almost all of his belongings were put away, ready to be sent to a place where he would never see them again. He needed closure.
He didn't really know what to do, so he grabbed his letter from his bedside table. It wasn't untouched; the cat sticker had been peeled off, and Katsuki had almost, almost read whatever was inside. He never got around to doing it.
He made his way back to his room and sat on the tatami mats. He stared at the futon for a moment, and IcyHot stared back, a small smile on the boy's lips, tears filling his eyes. He nodded his head, as if he was approving Katsuki’s decision to read the note. As if he was saying goodbye.
He removed the note from the envelope and read its contents.
Dear Bakugo,
I'm sorry all we did was fight. I wish we talked more.
Though you probably wouldn't agree, I consider you a friend. One of my best friends. That's why I'm writing you this, anyway. You may be angry and yell a lot, but you're actually a good person, deep down.
You strive for greatness. You try to be the best at everything. And that's why you're angry all the time. But that's also why you'll make a great pro.
I hope you know how sorry I am, though, for everything. I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for annoying you during our provisional training. I'm sorry for throwing the match at the Sports Festival. I'm sorry for whatever I've done.
This was my decision, and mine alone. I don't know how to explain it. I've just been sad. So, so sad. It hurts so bad that I can't even put it into words. I can't go on anymore. I just can't. I'm sorry.
I'm genuinely sorry for everything,
Shoto Todoroki
P.S. I'll be the first to admit, you're stronger than me. You win.
Katsuki's hands trembled as he held the note.
"You idiot," Katsuki said. "Don't say shit like that. If you just used your fire at the Sports Festival, you would've won. I know that. So just shut up."
Tears hit the surface of the envelope. "You bastard… I can't believe you. Fuck you. What do you mean? Of course, we're friends. God, you suck. Goddammit."
Katsuki's head fell in his hands, and he cried softly. When he lifted his head and looked back at the futon, Todoroki was gone.
6. Izuku Midoriya
Dear Izuku,
I
Six years had passed since that day, and that was about as far as Izuku could get through the note. He didn't want to think about Shoto anymore. Even though it had been so long, the wound stung as if it were fresh.
He just wished that he had told Shoto sooner, told him those three, simple words that could've changed everything. Those three words that could've saved his life. But he never did, and now, Shoto was gone.
It hurt too much to admit.
Shoto was gone. Shoto was never coming back. Shoto would never become the full-fledged pro he would’ve become.
Reading the note would confirm that he really was dead.
Shoto was dead. Those words didn't make sense.
Because how could someone so amazing, so perfect, be gone? How?
When Shoto's room was cleaned out, all Izuku took was a single white shirt that Shoto liked to wear. The boy had worn it all the time, and it smelled like him as a result. Izuku rarely touched the shirt after it landed in his possession–on rare instances, he would hold that shirt close and it smelled just like Shoto. But if he held it too much, it wouldn't be Shoto's anymore, and the scent would be gone. It laid in a box with the note the boy had written for him. That was all he had left.
Izuku pulled himself out of bed. Today was the day where he'd officially be announced as the number one hero, after finally surpassing pro hero Ground Zero. It was an exciting day, sure. But Izuku hadn't felt excited about anything in years. As a first-year, he envisioned celebrating this day with Kacchan and Shoto after the ceremony.
Although Shoto wasn’t there, the members of class 1A were still planning a party to celebrate class 1A's success. Iida had climbed up to number 8 on the charts, and Yaoyorozu made it to number 10, both of which were huge accomplishments.
But Izuku didn't want to celebrate if Shoto wouldn't be there. It didn't make sense.
After the public ceremony finished, though, Izuku found himself in Yaoyorozu's large estate. he didn't want to celebrate. It wasn't right. A bottle of beer was shoved between his hands.
"As a group, we've all done super well," Kaminari said. "We take up four out of the top ten spots. Can you believe it? Four spots! And nine within the top twenty. Nineteen of us are top one hundred heroes!"
"I don't think we could've realistically asked for anything better," Asui remarked.
"Yes, we could've," Izuku muttered.
“Huh?” The others asked
"Shoto should've been ranked up there too."
Everyone fell silent. "We don't have to talk about him if it’s going to hurt," Jiro whispered. Izuku’s fists clenched.
"Yes, we do! He would've been in the top three if he were still here. He might've even been number one. But as a class, we failed to protect him. We aren't heroes; we're frauds."
"Try to calm down, Midoriya," Kirishima whispered. "It's been six years-"
"It doesn't matter!" He pointed to Iida. "You failed!" Yaoyorozu. "You failed!" Bakugo. "You failed!" Himself. "We all failed! And now he's dead. Don't you understand that? How can you guys celebrate this?!"
"Because he's dead, Deku!" Bakugo shouted back. "He's dead! And no amount of blaming or guilt can ever, ever , bring him back. I know it hurts, but you need to move on."
"Move on?!" Izuku screamed. "How the fuck can you move on? Was I the only one that cared about him?!"
"Fuck you!"
Izuku grabbed Kacchan by the shirt and shoved him against the wall, punching him square in the nose.
"Is that all you have to say for yourself?! We may fight villains, but none of us are heroes. We let our classmate die! And everyone here just forgot about him! How could you forget about him?!"
"Get the hell off of me!" Izuku was shoved to the ground, and both boys were rolling over, engaged in an all-out brawl.
Iida and Kirishima pulled both boys off of each other.
"I hate you all!" Izuku screamed. "Lie all you want, none of you cared about him!"
"Of course, we did!" Iida yelled back. "Why don't you understand that?! You have to move on. It's been years!! This doesn't bring him back; it only makes things hurt worse!"
But Izuku was beyond listening to anyone. He shoved Iida off and left the house with the slam of a door.
That was the last time he would speak to any of his classmates for another month.
Dear Izuku,
I
He tried rereading the note one evening, but he couldn't make it far. As expected, of course.
The day had been a long one, and an unusually large rescue had taken up most of his time. It was all over the news. He laid on his couch and watched the footage, taking notes on how he could improve his performance. A knock interrupted his thoughts. He stumbled over toward the door, and when he opened it, he was shocked.
"Fuyumi Todoroki?!" He exclaimed. The woman was holding a box of cookies. "I...I haven't seen you in ages! Please, come inside!"
"Thank you," she said, walking inside and taking a seat on his couch. "Do you know what tomorrow is? It's okay if you don't."
Izuku sighed as he sat on a chair across from her. "Of course, I remember. It's the seventh anniversary of…"
"Yeah," Fuyumi responded. "I just came to let you know that you're welcome to visit him. You didn't go to the funeral, and you haven't seen his grave. One of your old classmates told me you're still having a hard time moving on, and honestly, I'm still struggling too."
"I don't understand. I know he's gone, and it's been years, but I just can't accept it. I'm supposed to be a hero, but I couldn't even save him."
"I hear his voice sometimes," Fuyumi added. "Just the other day, there was a car honking on the street, and I thought I heard him laugh. I turned my head, but he wasn't there."
"I still haven't read the note he left. I've tried, but I can't even make it past 'Dear Izuku.'"
"I read mine," Fuyumi responded. "It hurt, but I feel better now. I'm glad I read it, and I think reading yours might be a step toward moving on. It'll weigh on your mind a bit less, at least. I only came to check in and drop off some food, so I should get going. It's your choice to read it, though. I don't want to force you," she said. The door closed, and Izuku was all alone.
And he decided that after seven years, he would finally get it over with.
The next evening, after finishing his hero work, he grabbed the letter Shoto had given to him and made his way to the graveyard where his friend rested. His heart raced as he wandered through the gates and found the stone with Shoto’s name. His heart broke at the sight of the grave.
In Loving Memory Of Shoto Todoroki
Cherished brother, son, friend, and hero
We will miss your kind heart and courage
We love you forever and always
January 11th, 2004 - October 23rd, 2020
There he was; the life he lived was summarized in a few short lines. But this, Izuku noted, wasn't enough. People who read these words would never really know just how amazing Shoto was.
They'd never know his obsession with cold soba, the way he would occasionally talk to himself when doing school work, or how his laugh sounded like an angel's.
And maybe that's why Izuku still can't get over it, because he feels so incredibly guilty over everything; because he was the one that should have stepped in and saved him.
Or, maybe it’s because he never got to say what he wanted to say.
And so, he kneeled before the gravestone and unfolded the letter.
Dear Izuku,
I
No. He had to do this. It was time for him to move on.
Dear Izuku,
I have so much I want to say, but no idea how to say it. I'm writing your letter last because I don't know what to do.
First off, I'm sorry. This is no one's fault but my own. I've been in so much pain, and I did whatever I could to make sure no one knew. It hurts so bad, and I don't know how to keep going. I don't think I'll ever be happy again. I really didn't want to burden you with anything, so I stayed quiet. It's my fault for letting things get like this. There was nothing anyone could do.
Second, you've been such a great friend to me. I loved talking to you. I loved being with you. Everything about you is so damn perfect. I hope you realize that. You've improved so much with your quirk.
I think out of anyone, you’ve got the best shot at being number one. Don’t tell Bakugo.
I have both so many words to say and nothing to say at all. I don’t know.
I remember when we first met. You were pretty frail-looking and cried a lot. You used to break your bones all the time, remember that? I was kind of worried about you at first. But then I saw your fighting spirit. The fact that your quirk seemed to destroy you didn't matter. You just kept going.
And then the Sports Festival. You would've beaten me if you didn't make me use my fire. But you cared more about me than the competition, so you changed your focus. I know you'll be the best hero there is. Just watch, I promise you.
You've become so strong, and I'm proud to be your friend, so believe in yourself. You can do whatever you want.
Finally, there's something I've wanted to tell you. I've wanted to say it for so long but I can't. I don't even know if you feel the same way.
I love you. I love everything about you, your smile, your hair, your personality, just everything. I love you.
I don't know if you feel the same way, and if you don't, please don't feel pressured into anything. It's no big deal. But I really hope you do. I hope that in my short, useless life, I've done something good for you. I think that's the only way I'll be at peace.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry about not knowing what to say all the time. I'm sorry about your hands too. And I'm sorry that I've done something so selfish. I hope you'll forgive me.
I'm so, so, so, so, so sorry.
Thank you for everything.
Love,
Shoto
Izuku held the note to his chest as loud sobs shook his body. He cried because he would never see his friend's face again. He cried because he was so touched; Shoto had written that?! Of course, Shoto had done something good for him. Shoto made him smile, supported him to no end, and saved his life so many times (if only Izuku did the same).
But most importantly, he cried because there was no way Izuku could ever tell Shoto that he loved him too.
"You did so much for me, Shoto," Izuku whispered tearfully. "You gave me everything. I love you too. I love you so much. So, so, so, so much. You changed my life, you hear me? And I'll always be grateful.” Izuku took a deep breath. "It's been years, and I think I finally need to say goodbye."
Before he left, Izuku placed a gentle kiss on the headstone. "Rest in paradise, Shoto. I love you."
And somewhere in the vast universe, a troubled soul could finally put his weary heart at ease and be at peace.