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1.
Toshinori starts noticing it a couple weeks after the sports festival.
So far, he’s been too embarrassed to bring it up, but he technically has an obligation to. After all, how can he call himself Midoriya’s mentor and teacher if he can’t even ask the boy a simple, concerned question?
A bad one, his brain helpfully supplies to him.
So here is now, sitting awkwardly on a chair too small for his legs, trying to muster up the courage to ask Midoriya if he’s growing white hairs due to stress.
The boy is especially cheerful today, grinning as he mentions training with Todoroki to improve their hand to hand skills. It makes it even harder.
Toshinori clears his throat in the midst of Midoriya’s passionate breakdown of Todoroki’s strengths and weaknesses.
Midoriya looks eagerly up at him.
“What is it, All Might?”
“Er, I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now, but I haven’t really found the opportunity to bring it up,” Toshinori starts. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, if my suspicions are correct, I am just- a little worried.”
Midoriya’s brows are creased, and his mouth tugs into a confused frown.
Toshinori swallows, then blurts out, “Midoriya, are you growing white hairs?”
The boy in question looks so taken aback that Toshinori wants to kick himself. Stupid, tactless way of asking. Of course the teenager has noticed, and he’s probably insecure about it, if any of the books he’s read on their minds are right.
Silence stretches on.
Toshinori coughs, just to have something to do.
Then Midoriya bursts out laughing, clutching his side.
“Oh my god,” he gasps. “I thought you were- asking about something else entirely!”
Toshinori is shocked into stillness. This isn’t exactly an appropriate reaction for a boy to be told he’s growing white hair, right?
“Ah, young Midoriya, I apologize for my bluntness, I’m sure it’s a sensitive topic for you-”
“No, All Might, I don’t care,” Midoriya laughs, wiping away tears. “I know my hair’s going white, I just haven’t had the time to dye it back.”
Dye?
Toshinori covers his face with one hand.
He’s such an idiot.
He’s noticed that Midoriya’s own shade of green doesn’t quite match his mother’s. He’s seen bluish blotches behind the boy’s ears every couple months, while they were training. Hell, he’s probably even heard the boy mention dying hair to his friends.
He’s just never connected the dots.
On the opposite seat, Midoriya calms himself, thumping his chest, while smiling widely.
“Sorry for worrying you, All Might,” he grins. “I thought you’d noticed it already, but I guess not. My hair’s naturally white.”
“Yes, of course,” Toshinori coughs. “I was just a little- disconcerted at the thought of you growing white hairs at the age of sixteen.”
Midoriya snorts, saying, “I can’t believe that was what your final conclusion was, though.”
Toshinori reddens under his hand.
“I’m not very clever about- these sorts of things,” he sighs, then sits up.
“Is there a particular reason why you dye your hair, young Midoriya?” he asks. “White is a perfectly fine color for your hair to be.”
“Nah,” Midoriya shrugs. “It just stood out too much. Besides, not a lot of people thought I was Mom’s kid, so I just decided to dye it the closest shade of green I could find.”
“Nothing wrong with standing out now, though, is there?”
Midoriya leans back at that, face thoughtful.
“I guess,” he hums. “Wouldn’t it clash, though? My costume is already green, and I can’t really change the color scheme now, I’m pretty sure there’s rules against major changes after a certain amount of time, especially since 1-A’s gotten a lot of attention from the media-”
Midoriya cuts himself off, face flushing as he grins, sheepishly saying, “Sorry, I got distracted,” and Toshinori laughs heartily.
“If you’d like my personal opinion on it, though, I encourage you to do whatever you think is right,” he says. “White wouldn’t clash with your costume, but green is also a very nice shade to stay with.”
It would look rather striking, not that he thinks about it. Shining white hair and a dark green costume is a good combination, at least. Toshinori’s sure that some people could find some sort of symbolism in that.
“Huh,” Midoriya sniffs, looking considering. “Thanks for the advice, All Might. I might just go back to natural.”
“No worries, my boy,” Toshinori says warmly. “I’m happy I could help.”
2.
Midoriya’s clearly excited when Toshinori walks into the common room in the dorms.
In his hands, he holds a crisp white envelope, and Todoroki and a couple other students are gathered around him.
He doesn’t want to intrude on the teenagers’ free time, but his curiosity gets the better of him.
“-from your dad?” Todoroki is asking. He looks confused, scratching behind his ear.
“Yeah!” Midoriya exclaims. “He works overseas so I haven’t seen him, but he sends letters with money once in a while.”
“It’s been a while since he’s sent payments, so Mom was getting worried, but I guess he was just late,” Midoriya continues. “I hope it’s a lot.”
Uraraka leans in, eyeing the envelope. She’s clearly a little jealous, if the way she stares hungrily at the packet is any indication.
Though, Midoriya notices, and he beams, saying, “Don’t worry, Uraraka! I don’t need any money right now, you can have it.”
Uraraka holds her hands up, spluttering, but she also doesn’t deny it.
Toshinori smiles slightly, watching Midoriya attempt to stuff the envelope in her hands while she makes up excuses. Midoriya is kind to his peers, even giving up his own allowance to his friends without a second thought.
He still doesn’t regret choosing the boy as his successor.
Then Todoroki steps in, inspecting the packet suspiciously.
“Are you sure it’s from your dad? There’s no address on it,” he squints.
“Ah, don’t worry, Todoroki,” Midoriya assures. “The letters are always unlabelled. If it was from someone else, Mom’d know.”
Then he sighs, rocking back on his heels.
“I’ve never actually met him,” he ruminates. “He stayed around until I was two, but I haven’t seen him since he left for his new job in America. I don’t think Mom and I could have gotten by as easily as we did without him sending money.”
“Oh,” Todoroki frowns. “I’m sorry about that.”
Midoriya just waves him off though, saying, “It’s alright. I can’t miss someone I don’t remember. Besides, it’ll be awkward if he comes back now.”
“Still, it’s not right to just leave your family across the world,” Todoroki presses. “You shouldn’t have to depend on a man that hasn’t bothered to visit your whole life.”
He’s clearly thinking about his own father, and even Toshinori knows the man is less than pleasant to his own family.
“Todoroki, really, it’s fine,” he consoles. “We’d be fine even without his money, now.”
“Though, Mom got really worried a while back, when I was a little kid,” Midoriya says thoughtfully. “About seven years ago, money just stopped coming in for a pretty long time. He didn’t answer any of Mom’s letters for at least two or three months.”
“Really?” Uraraka butts in sympathetically.
“Yeah,” he responds. “He just sent a vague message about being injured severely.”
Iida frowns, and Uraraka mimics him, both their faces looking worried.
“That sucks.” Uraraka declares, and Iida nods.
“Well, I’m glad the man didn’t just ditch his family.” Todoroki says awkwardly.
Midoriya laughs at that, and the tension disperses just as quickly as it came.
Toshinori leaves soon after, without delivering the message to Midoriya, wondering where the boy’s father is now.
3.
“Deku, come on!” Uraraka complains. “I can’t even see your eyes anymore!”
Iida pushes his glasses farther up on his head.
“I agree with Uraraka,” he exclaims, proper as ever. “If your hair blocks your vision, it might hinder your performance.”
Midoriya turns to Toshinori, eyes pleading.
“All Might, please, tell them I don’t need a haircut,” he begs. “I can see perfectly fine, I swear.”
Toshinori just laughs gently, putting his hands up.
“I’m afraid I agree with your friends, young Midoriya,” he chuckles. “A little trim can’t hurt, can it?”
Midoriya just crosses his arms, scowling slightly.
“This isn’t fair. Haircuts are horrible, I don’t need one.”
Toshinori trails behind the group, as their designated chaperone. Of course, he can’t really protect them with threats now, a fact that eats at him most nights, but it’s fine. He knows Aizawa is probably following behind, watching from a distance to prevent any disasters.
The man is certainly protective of his students.
With good reason, Toshinori thinks. The amount of villain attacks they’ve powered through are unprecedented, for first years.
Even now, walking around a mall, they might just encounter a villain, out in the open.
Well. Midoriya’s already met Shigaraki at a mall, hasn’t he?
Still, there’s nothing amiss in the way Uraraka pushes Midoriya to one of the salon booths, as Iida lectures them both on the side about proper etiquette in public.
“Deku, please? I’ll buy you one of those, um, All Might figures you want,” Uraraka is pleading. “All you need to do is sit in a chair for half an hour and let the barber do their job.”
Toshinori can tell Midoriya is crumbling under the combined pressure of both his friend’s urgings. The boy is a bit of a people pleaser when it comes to his close friends, he’s noticed.
Finally, Midoriya throws his hands up, and walks to the salon himself.
“Fine, fine,” he says, exasperated. “You owe me, though.”
“Sure, whatever,” Uraraka dismisses, smiling widely as she strides into the small shop close behind.
Leaving Toshinori alone, with nothing to do in a bustling mall full of people that will probably recognize him sooner or later. He sighs, and pulls up his hood in an attempt to blend in, a piteous effort when his height is a noticeable enough factor as it is.
It’s as good a time as any to start working on his lesson plan, anyway, a responsibility he’s been neglecting. He pulls out his phone from his pocket to check the scheduling.
He’s gotten much better at calculating what the students can handle; how to push them to greater heights, but not too much. Plus Ultra is a useful sentiment, but it won’t do for students to cripple themselves trying to reach the unattainable.
His treacherous brain reminds him of Midoriya’s scarred right arm, a result of countless breaks from his quirk, something that Toshinori himself gifted the boy, breaking his body, he thinks.
He exhales slowly out his nose. It’s no good to dwell on the past like this; he can only focus on how to prevent said injuries from happening again in the future.
He turns back to the bright screen, squinting at the miniscule numbers, when a cheerful voice jolts him out of his thoughts.
“All Might! All Might!” Uraraka is calling.
He sits up, letting the hood slide of his head, and he greets her with a smile of his own.
“Yes, young Uraraka?” he asks.
Instead of replying, the girl just jumps out of the way to reveal Midoriya standing behind her sheepishly.
The sight steals away his breath for a second, but he manages to give the boy a thumbs up.
For a second, he thought that someone else was standing where Midoriya was.
“It looks good, right?” Uraraka asks. “They stripped the dye ‘cause Deku said he’d planning to get it out anyway, plus a trim.”
Toshinori swallows past the lump in his throat, turning back to Midoriya with, “It looks striking, young Midoriya. Certainly a bold look for a hero.”
The teenager laughs then, cheeks coloring. He turns back to the group, rubbing at the back of his newly shaven neck.
Absentmindedly, Toshinori notices that he’d been clenching his fists tight. He slowly loosens them, hoping they hadn’t noticed. Now that he looks at Midoriya again, he can breathe. The boy’s cheeks are round where his were sharp, and while the cheekbones and nose are the same, his student’s eyes are very clearly green.
Just a peculiar coincidence, he tells himself.
Still, the likeness is there, and Midoriya’s newly cut, white hair probably enabled his mind to see his old enemy in place of his protege.
What a silly thought.
All for One was the leader of several criminal organizations, even before Toshinori defeated him. Where would the man even find time to meet a wife and have a child?
As far as he knows, All for One was a centuries old villain who did nothing but torment people.
4.
Toshinori, even with his (former) number one hero status, isn’t allowed to watch the students in the arena.
It’s frustrating, to not be allowed to even check who’s passed until the exam is over, but the provisional licensing exam has been more or less the same for the past decade, excluding the actual content of the tests.
All he can do is trust his students to do well.
They’re exceptional heroes-in-training, and (favoritism aside) class 1-A especially, with its frankly ridiculous amount of encounters, has experience, and the skill to back them up when they need to fight.
Privately, he wishes the class would stop acting as a villain magnet, but those thoughts are just that: private.
And despite his worry, Toshinori knows the licensing exam is one of the most secure tests out there for students. Since he’d first registered as a pro hero, he’s pretty sure he can count the number of incidents in it on one hand.
At least, that’s what he’s thinking, when several other officials sitting nearby suddenly stand upright, hands pressed to their earpieces.
“-shouldn’t be possible,” one man is saying. “There were no quirk suppressing components this year.”
“Is this another trick?” another is muttering.
Toshinori stands awkwardly among the agitated officials, pinching at his pant leg, before he gathers up the courage to tap the shoulder of one woman in front of him.
“Excuse me,” he interjects politely. “Could you perhaps inform me of what’s happened?”
The woman’s eyes widen behind oddly colored glasses.
“All Might,” she says. “I’m not sure if you’re cleared to hear this-”
“Please,” he interrupts, putting a little bit of force behind his words. “My students are down there right now. I need to know if they’re in danger.”
Her eyes swivel between Toshinori and the clipboard, then she turns to him.
“The exam has been halted temporarily, due to multiple students having problems accessing their quirks.”
He inhales sharply.
“Thank you,” he says, before collapsing back down in his chair.
This is serious.
There are only two people he knows of who can completely halt usage of quirks, in Japan.
One is his coworker and friend, Aizawa, who can only erase the quirks of people he is looking at.
The other is an ancient villain who can forcibly take quirks from anybody within a rather large radius.
He’s sure if any student down in the arena could successfully suppress or erase quirks of so many people, they’d be informed. The exam has already been going on for quite some time; it would be illogical for a student to wait this long.
The tired hero commission worker’s voice rings out through the intercom.
“We are halting the first exam for a short period of time, in order to investigate the new circumstances.”
Toshinori stands up again, making his way down to where he knows Aizawa is sitting.
His heart is pounding.
Could the League of Villains be behind this? Ever since he’d defeated All for One, they were remarkably quiet, presumably because they’d lost their primary benefactor. As far as he knows, no one in the League has a quirk that can suppress quirks for such a long time.
Whatever the case, he needs to get to his class. There’s a possibility they could be attacked, while their quirks are being suppressed.
In his haste, he doesn’t notice the black haired man going up the stairs so fast it appears he’s almost running, and bumps into him.
“Ow.”
Aizawa’s reproachful face glares up at him.
“I’m sorry, Aizawa,” he says. “I was just going down to look for you.”
The man’s unimpressed face doesn’t change.
“Seems we had the same idea,” Aizawa sighs. “What’s causing the quirk suppression?”
Toshinori shakes his head.
“I don’t know,” he says, tense. “Nobody’s harmed, yet, and the students are being brought back to the waiting room.”
Aizawa’s dark eyes shoot up to his.
“Could it be-”
“No.”
It feels rude to cut off Aizawa in such a way, but he can’t help it. Toshinori doesn’t think he can handle hearing about All for One right now.
“If he escaped, you and I would have been informed immediately,” he adds on. “It could just be- a student accidentally causing this.”
“Highly unlikely,” Aizawa huffs. “There’s an extremely low chance that a student could have suddenly triggered widespread quirk erasure, like mine, during an exam.”
They reach the ground floor, where other examiners have already clamored to.
Toshinori scans the crowd of students, many looking uneasy, or downright sick. Tremendous relief crashes over him when he manages to spot Midoriya, standing in one corner with his arms around his torso.
He strides over to the boy, trying not to push past the crowd.
“Young Midoriya!” he calls. “Are you alright?”
Midoriya flinches, then he relaxes when he sees Toshinori coming to him.
“All Might,” he greets, chewing his lip. “Do you know what happened?”
“I’m not quite sure,” Toshinori frowns. “The Commission thinks there was a student in the arena that suddenly triggered their own quirk to suppress others’.”
“Oh,” Midoriya says faintly.
Toshinori checks him over with a cursory glance. There’s nothing amiss with him, besides a dusty and rumpled costume, and a thin cut on his cheekbone. Despite that, though, Midoriya is clutching onto his elbows tightly.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I was just- surprised,” the teenager mumbles. “I don’t think I’m affected by the, er, quirk suppression.”
“Is that so?” Toshinori questions, eyebrows raised. “Do you think it has something to do with One- your quirk’s nature?”
“I don’t know,” Midoriya absentmindedly says. “It didn’t feel like anything was pushing on it, just a weird feeling in my chest-”
The boy cuts himself off, and his face drains of all color.
“I need to go,” he blurts. “Please don’t follow me, All Might.”
“Midoriya, wait-”
The boy runs off before Toshinori can ask him what the problem is.
5.
“My quirk’s back!”
“Mine, too.”
“What the hell happened?”
It takes just under thirty minutes for everybody’s quirks to return.
Midoriya is gone for the duration of that time, only for Toshinori to find him hunched over himself in a chair.
He clears his throat.
“Midoriya, is there something wrong?” he asks. “If you’re in danger, you need to let me or Aizawa know promptly, so we can help keep you safe.”
The teenager looks up from his shoes, and for a second, his eyes are full of hurt and fear, before it smooths out, and he smiles.
“Sorry,” he says apologetically. “I panicked for a second. It’s scary to imagine One for All in someone else’s hands.”
That doesn’t exactly explain him running away in such a hurry, but Toshinori accepts the excuse anyway, if only to get the haunted look off Midoriya’s face.
+1
Midoriya has been avoiding Toshinori.
He’s sure of it, now.
The boy is making up excuses to skip their lunch meetings. Normally, it wouldn’t be Toshinori’s business what his student is doing at all times, making it a point to keep their private meetings once a week.
He’s not going to confront Midoriya about why he doesn’t want to see him. Honestly, he can’t blame the boy for wanting to spend more time with his friends; who’d want to eat lunch with a washed up old man?
(he won’t admit it, but he misses their weekly talks. Midoriya somehow makes everything interesting in the way he tells it, and his ceaseless rambling about possibilities of One for All that Toshinori himself had never considered makes him smile)
The only problem is, Midoriya is starting to participate less in his class.
Foundational Hero Studies is a more hands-on class, but the occasional lectures and discussions are required, at the insistence of Aizawa. Midoriya is an expert at the subjects Toshinori introduces, often teaching his peers about the topic better than he can.
Now, the teenager barely raises his hand to answer some questions with short, simple answers. None of his famous tendency to mumble or detailed analyses.
Today is especially bad; Midoriya is hunched over in his seat, eyes averted.
Toshinori’s not cruel enough to call on him when he’s very clearly telegraphing that he wants to be ignored. Still, he has to find the root of this problem.
During class, he makes an effort to focus on the other students, attempting to keep the jovial facade up, but his thoughts keep drifting back to Midoriya.
You old fool, he scolds himself. How can you guide your protege when you’re so nervous at the prospect of asking a question?
Blessedly, the class seems to go rather quickly, with the school bell ringing faster than he expected.
Here comes the difficult part.
Just as the teenagers start to trickle out of the classroom, Toshinori clears his throat.
“Er, young Midoriya, if you could stay a few minutes after class?”
Instantly, he regrets it. Midoriya’s face falls so fast from the stiff smile he wore before, and his shoulders are unconsciously hunching, already.
They both stand in awkward silence, waiting for the rest of the students to leave. Once the last girl steps out of the classroom, Midoriya hurriedly closes the door shut, then turns back to Toshinori.
“Midoriya, I understand-”
“All Might, I-”
Toshinori shuts his mouth with an audible click, and Midoriya covers his with one hand.
“Ah, sorry about that,” he ventures out. “You can speak first.”
“It’s okay, All Might,” the boy grits out. “You’re probably not going to want to speak with me after this.”
Perplexed, Toshinori stares at his student for a moment, before steeling himself again.
“My boy, I’m worried that something may have happened, outside of school, something that affects that your health,” he starts. “I understand if you don’t want an old has-been as a teacher anymore, but if there’s anything troubling you, there’s always Aizawa, and the rest of the staff, so don’t- bottle your problems up.”
Midoriya looks at him for a beat, as if acknowledging the irony in that particular statement coming from Toshinori, but well, he’s always believed in the mentality: do as I say, not as I do.
Then, all the pent up energy releases itself.
“All Might, it’s not that,” Midoriya bursts out, eyes as wide as dinnerplates. “You’re not- you aren’t an old has-been, you’re the best hero! That’s- stupid, I would never think of you in that way.”
Toshinori blinks, surprised at the outburst of emotion. It’s incredibly relieving to hear that his student doesn’t think that way of him, though.
“What is it about, then?” he asks.
Midoriya looks away, biting his lip.
“If I told you that my father was- is a villain, would you expel me?”
“Huh?”
Toshinori abruptly stops making up horrible theories on what Midoriya’s secret is. Shamefully, he realizes that he’s almost glad that the problem isn’t as worse as he thought.
“My father. He’s a powerful villain. My mom and I got money from him for years,” the boy bites out. “Doesn’t that make us complacent?”
“Of course not!” Toshinori says. “You were merely spending money you believed legitimate. The legal ramifications are akin to a situation in which a bank robber shoves money into a bystander’s arms.”
“Oh,” Midoriya says numbly.
Then, “I don’t think you’d say the same if you knew who my father really is.”
Toshinori frowns. Just how bad can one man be for the teenager to truly believe that?
“My boy, I promise you that you will face no consequence just because of your circumstances of birth,” he assures.
He notices that Midoriya’s grip on his bag is so tight that his knuckles are white.
“I think- I think my father is All for One!” he shouts suddenly.
Nothing could have prepared Toshinori for the sheer surprise sweeping through him at the admission from Midoriya.
“What?”
Then, it’s as if a dam broke loose in his student.
“I think- I know it’s true, there’s too much evidence to disprove it,” he stutters out. “I had a flashback last week while I was dreaming, I saw all the previous One for All holders, and at the beginning, there was a man with white hair and his face was kind of like mine, and he was grinning at me before I woke up and my bedroom was destroyed.”
“And back in Kamino, I didn’t think it was something serious until now, but while we were flying with Kacchan, I could feel All for One looking at me somehow, and all of a sudden I felt too full, like my body was stuffed past its limit but it faded after you defeated him,” he continues, eyes starting to water. “Then two weeks ago, during the professional licensing exam, a Shiketsu girl came and tried to cut me, and I just- reached out and then the full feeling came back but worse, only this time I took everybody’s quirk.”
Midoriya looks up at him, eyes full of regret and fear and uncertainty, and Toshinori feels like he’s floating.
Belatedly, he remembers what All for One said to him during their last battle.
“Oh? Where’s your smile, All Might?” he’d mocked Toshinori. “How does it feel to know that out of all the people you’ve saved, you failed the one who needed help the most?”
He’d been too overwhelmed and shocked at the reveal to properly register what All for One said next, but he can remember it, now.
“Can you feel the despair yet? The realization that you couldn’t save your own dead master’s grandson?” All for One laughed. “I hope you never escape your hopelessness, for you’ve paid me the same kindness ten times over. You stole something immeasurably precious to me, something that can never be replaced!”
It’s as though puzzle pieces are clicking into place.
Stolen something immeasurable? Now, after Midoriya’s confession, it’s obvious what the villain was talking about. He’d been so angry at All Might for the theft of not only his allies, but his only son.
The twist is so unbelievable that Toshinori almost laughs.
He, the former number one hero and shining Symbol of Peace, made his successor, to both his legacy and his quirk, his worst enemy’s son.
His hands are shaking, and his chest is tight, but he doesn’t particularly care. He’s too busy trying to imagine All for One with a wife and child.
Then, a hand on his arm breaks him out of his stupor.
“-All Might!” Midoriya is saying, face twisted with panic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to- I’m sorry I brought it up, it-”
The boy cuts himself off, looking miserable, and Toshinori shakes himself.
Now isn’t the time to have a breakdown, in front of his young student.
This is probably the worst reaction Toshinori could have, to the revelation that his successor is All for One’s son.
He can’t allow the trust that is already damaged from his response to be broken any further, and to do that, he has to explain first.
“It’s- it’s okay,” he says unsteadily, and he kicks himself as soon as he says it. He made it sound like a question, and what Midoriya needs right now is unwavering belief.
“It’s alright,” he says again, firmer. “I’m not going to report you.”
Midoriya’s head snaps up from where it hung, and the hope in his eyes are so fragile that Toshinori is ashamed of himself for even considering for a second that the boy could be a villain.
“This- this situation is different than if your father was a normal villain, but you won’t be expelled, or arrested. Not if I have something to say about it.”
“Who your father is changes nothing to me, Midoriya,” he stresses. “You are still my successor, and I have faith that you will become a great hero, in the future. If you choose to keep this, All for One a secret, I will support you as best as I can, as your teacher, and as a former hero.”
“That said, if you want to use All for One for good, you’re going to have to reveal this to Yuuei and the Hero Commission, but I promise, it won’t get you anything worse than extra lessons.”
Toshinori knows that the Hero Commission is far from the image it shows itself to the public, but he’s fairly sure that the president and board of directors would rather have All for One as a weapon under their control than locked up in a prison with a teenager with a powerful quirk that has already made a name for himself.
And if they do decide that the latter is more reasonable, he knows of the power he still has on the public’s opinion, as the former Symbol of Peace, and there’s no doubt that the public will rise in outrage if the Commission decides to jail his successor.
Toshinori looks back to his student, standing with his hands limp at his sides.
For a moment, Midoriya scrutinizes him for any sign of dishonesty, before his eyes fill up with tears.
“Ah- thank you, All Might!” he sniffs, wiping at his face with his sleeve.
Toshinori just nods, smiling slightly.
