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“As you can see, All Might, my quirk is quite versatile.”
Toshinori watches as Izuku’s right arm lifts, but by the wideness of the boy’s eyes it is clearly not of his own doing. He can see as Izuku shakes, the metal in his hand glinting in the moonlight with the vibrations. The man before them follows the same actions, like his and Izuku’s limbs are tied to one another in a sick twist of puppetry.
“One touch is all it takes and bam, I’m in control.” A sick, unnatural grin covers the man’s face, like he’s never learned to smile, only grimace in the shadows he no doubt belongs to.
Toshinori feels his own disgust at the sight of this pitiful excuse for a human being show upon his own normally smiling features and he doesn’t care to hide it. Blue eyes dart back to Izuku, his boy, who looks afraid and unsure as the barrel of the gun is pointed into green curls.
Toshinori barely withholds a growl with his words, “Let the boy go.”
Dagobah beach no longer sits empty and ignored, weighed down under the mounds of refuse as it had when Izuku first knew Toshi. No, now it is a bustling destination full of clean air and laughter, families in their bare feet upon the sand as the water laps against the shore.
Izuku walks side by side with his mentor, enjoying the product of his hard work, completed now multiple years back.
“The view never gets old, does it, my boy?”
Green eyes look up to see Toshi’s face lit by the setting sun that casts a golden glow across the water and the sand that continues on past him up the beach. Izuku can feel the water tickle the tops of his own bare feet as it passes over his skin from where they walk in the shallows. The man’s face is soft and his eyes pull down at the corners, some with age but the rest with a kind of gentleness that Izuku knows he is one of the few privy to. He finds his lips quirking up into an easy smile at the sight.
“No...it never does.”
Life is busy for them both but the two still make time for each other, weather permitting, coming to their favorite spot here at least once a month. They talk and catch up on the things that can’t be covered in the small increments of time they have at school. Training and classes are fine moments spent together but aren’t necessarily conducive to deepening a relationship, and while ‘All Might’ as a teacher and mentor is important and appreciated by Izuku, ‘Toshi’ is an entirely different matter.
‘Toshi’ gets ice cream with Izuku on a hot summer's day when they meet on a Saturday, sharing a few bites of the boy’s hero themed, multi scoop monstrosity that consists of various atrocious colors; the retired hero’s stomach can’t handle getting his own anymore but Izuku has never minded sharing.
‘Toshi’ sits with Izuku under the trees in a secluded grove at lunch sometimes when they can sneak away from prying eyes, letting the cool breeze caress their skin as Izuku gets the man to giggle about the boy’s classmates’ escapades.
‘Toshi’ comes over for dinner sometimes, making Izuku’s mother smile softly as he gushes about Izuku’s progress in training and his academic successes. And if by the end of the night the two adults have Izuku blushing from a mixture of praise and embarrassment, well, the boy won’t say he hates it.
As the sun continues to set, the two watch as the beach gradually empties, families with young children leaving to settle them in for the night after an exhausting day at the ocean. Izuku’s green eyes sparkle as the memories of his own childhood surface.
“There’s no kind of tired like how you feel after the beach as a little kid...” Izuku’s voice is soft as the two of them come to a standstill, pants cuffed above their ankles and shoes in hand so as to not get wet. Izuku looks over the shining water. From the corner of his eye he sees Toshi incline his head in query. “Mom used to take me to the beach a lot when I was younger, before things got...harder…” Izuku’s voice trails off.
He knows he doesn’t need to go into specifics, after all, the two have spoken at length about Izuku’s father leaving and the hole that had left in their family. The way his mother had hurt, and still to this day does, even if she refuses to talk about it. The way the lack of a father figure did a number on Izuku’s self esteem as a young child, only exacerbated by the knowledge that if he hadn’t been quirkless maybe the man would have stayed--
A large hand cups Izuku’s shoulder gently, warm and grounding. “Well, then I’m glad we get to make more memories here, now that you’re older, Izuku.”
Izuku turns and looks up at the man beside him. The man who has saved him, in so many more ways than one. Suddenly, an overwhelming urge overtakes him and butterflies quickly fill his stomach at the thought, but they do not deter him from what he wants. Toshi can be described by some as ‘touchy-feely’ but the boy knows he usually reserves physical affection to gentle shoulder pats and hair ruffles, the occasional one-armed hug if he’s feeling emotional. Izuku has embraced his mentor on occasion but they do tend to come few and far inbetween.
So it’s understandable Izuku feels the nerves of anticipation through his body as he slowly reaches for Toshi’s nearest arm, slowly wrapping his own arm around the retired hero’s, his hand coming to gently rest around Toshi’s lower bicep. He lets his body follow suit, and Toshi’s comforting warmth covers Izuku’s side as the boy draws near, laying his head onto the lanky appendage.
Izuku feels Toshi stiffen momentarily, no doubt taken aback at the sudden show of affection, but Izuku just couldn’t fight the urge that came over him; and he feels safe, he knows Toshi won’t reject him, won’t pull away even if he does think it’s weird.
But Izuku has a feeling that Toshi doesn’t think it is, as the man’s free hand comes to grasp and cover over Izuku’s that lays upon his arm, a soft pat before he rests it there. Izuku has grown in the past two-plus years that they have known each other, but still Toshi’s hand dwarfs his own freckled one, and Izuku feels silly that it makes him feel safe, his hero (always his hero, even if he is retired) standing tall and proud, even now, in Izuku’s eyes.
“Me too, Toshi.”
The last slivers of sunset cast long, warped shadows of themselves across the sand behind them, light fading into nothing as they stand, silent and still for what feels like a long time. The constant sound of the waves and calm atmosphere almost have Izuku falling asleep on the spot, had he a few more minutes, perhaps he might have accomplished the feat.
But suddenly, breaking through their cultivated peace a grating voice sounds out, “Well isn’t that sweet. Sorry to break up the party, boys, but well...no, I guess I’m not.” Izuku barely reacts before he feels just the ghost of a touch along his bare shoulder due to his sleeveless shirt, and at that, is unable to move.
Izuku is scared.
Toshinori can see it plainly as the villain raises his own empty hand, curled in such a way as imitates how Izuku holds the pistol that has been forced into his grip. The villain teases, his finger forcing the boy’s to lightly caress the trigger, but not pulling it; no, not yet.
“When I saw you two just strolling down the beach, god, I thought ‘what a lucky day’!” The deranged man cackles. Horror rolls down into Toshinori’s stomach as he remembers what had occurred.
They stood at the water's edge, Toshinori trying to control his own rapidly beating heart as Izuku had curled his hand around Toshinori’s arm. The blatant show of affection had taken him quite by surprise, but a giddy sort of happiness quickly replaced it; Toshinori knows the boy performed a leap of faith with this rare physical touch. Izuku is not usually one to initiate such things, but the feeling inside Toshinori’s chest, of pride and a soft sort of attachment had been overwhelming at the gesture.
It doesn’t come as a surprise that the emotions had clouded Toshinori’s senses, disallowing him from noticing the presence that ripped the moment away from them. A voice was heard and suddenly Izuku’s touch was torn away, quickly and unnaturally as Toshinori spun around to see where the voice had come from. A squat, ratty looking man had stood behind them, greasy dark hair, long and hidden underneath a blue baseball cap. He wore an unassuming black t-shirt and wrinkled jeans, completing the dishevelled look.
Toshinori had noticed how Izuku did not turn with him to look behind, standing stock still with his arms against his sides. He did his best to keep both the boy and the unidentified man within his vision.
Around them it was silent, as the beach had been nearly empty around them with the encroaching darkness. The sun was gone now, shadows covering the three males. Toshinori blames this for not having seen Izuku’s condition earlier.
The man said nothing more, simply turning and beckoning with a finger to obviously follow, and the blonde at first had looked on incredulously, baffled at what the man was thinking that the two would follow him--until he saw Izuku turn and head the same direction as the retreating form of the stranger.
“I-Izuku, what are you doing?” The child’s legs moved almost robotically, as he did not answer but kept moving. It dawned on Toshinori that he walked with the exact same gait as their antagonist, down to the way the man’s feet slipped in the soft sand. He did not turn towards his mentor, as anxiety gripped at Toshinori’s chest.
“Stop!” He had yelled, lurching forward to grab at his successor, only for the boy to stop abruptly as a metallic clicking noise grabbed Toshinori’s attention. He came to a halt, hands still outstretched towards Izuku as the boy’s arm lifted straight out in front of him, hand curled in a way as if he were holding something though his fingers lay bare.
“Ahem, you might want to look in my direction, old man.”
Blue eyes followed the raspy voice of the man in front of them, only for Toshinori to immediately feel as if he couldn’t breathe.
Fat fingers held a gun forward and pointed at his boy, one of which covered the trigger, ready at a moments notice to pull and end everything Toshinori holds dear. Izuku still stays where he had been, arm held in the same position as the man, in a sick imitation of his possible murderer.
Toshinori choked, holding in the blood that made its way up his throat.
“I wouldn’t do anything if I was you. Follow nicely and maybe I’ll let him live.” A sick twisted grin had plastered itself across the villain’s face with those words and Toshinori had felt his stomach sink, dread at their predicament overwhelming him.
This is how they got to where they are now, after crossing the sand and moving up the road a ways, the twist in Toshinori’s gut never subsiding as he watched his boy unable to move his body in any way that didn’t match the villain. Izuku with his arm up in a pseudo threatening gesture aimed back at their attacker will forever be burned inside the retired hero’s mind, but not quite as deeply as when the man had forced the pistol into his boy’s own hand.
They stand beneath the cover of trees, a small forested patch on the trail beside a park keeping them hidden. Moonlight still filters through, casting pale light across the cold sweat that drips from Izuku’s face as his arm is forcefully held up and bent at the elbow, barrel pointed at his own temple.
“Let the boy go.”
The fear Toshinori feels is fully hidden behind the righteous fury that drips from his words like vitriol.
The villain cackles. “Ya know, he wasn’t even really part of the plan, All Might! I came looking for you.”
A figurative knife digs into Toshinori’s chest. “What do you want, villain?”
Toshinori tries to ignore the evidence that the situation they find themselves in is directly his fault ( when isn’t it, Toshinori?) as he tries to connect imaginary dots concerning who this person could be, and why they would come after him now.
He hides his worry behind a smirk, “I’m an old, retired man now, what glory could you possibly gain from defeating me?”
The gleeful light in the nameless man’s eyes suddenly changes to something far more cold, calculating. Hateful. “I don’t care if you can’t or won’t fight back, All Might. I want you to hurt. Originally this,” he points to Izuku with his unoccupied hand, the other one clasped in an imitation of a hold on a gun, “would have been you. One touch, and no one can break free from me until I say so. I was looking forward to taking you out back and shooting you like a dog.” Toshinori swallows when he sees the man’s teeth glint in the low light. “But really this couldn’t have gone better. Because if anything is gonna make you hurt, it’s this.”
Toshinori barely makes out the words the man says as they escape through gritted teeth in anger, before Izuku’s hand is jerking downward, a gunshot ringing through the trees, the sound ripping through Toshinori’s chest.
Izuku screams , blood immediately bubbling out of his foot where the bullet has penetrated his flesh and bone. He should drop to the ground, he should be writhing in pain—but Toshinori knows he doesn’t have the autonomy to do any of those things. Izuku can’t even express his pain correctly, forced into whatever position the villain takes, and the bastard doesn’t make it easier for him.
Toshinori hears the blood rushing in his ears as the villain laughs , the sound nearly drowned out by Izuku’s heavy grunts and panting in between loud keens.
“Izuku!” Toshinori wants to rip his own hair out, as he feels useless, unable to do anything with a gun raised once more to the boy’s temple.
“Haha! Man that felt good! You won’t die from that but god it must hurt like a bitch.”
Toshinori feels every one of his muscles tense and tighten, physically holding himself back as the villain wipes a tear from his eye. All while Izuku shakes, teeth chattering from the pain he’s in.
Toshinori’s eyes look wild as he searches for something, anything he can do to end this. He has to get the gun away he has to get Izuku away from here—
Suddenly, an idea in its entirety makes itself known. More guilt pours over Toshinori’s already aching heart at the realization, because if this plan is anything, safe is not it.
The villain is talking, monologuing no doubt about ‘why he hates All Might this’, and ‘why he’s justified in his actions that’. Toshinori has had too many years under his belt to not know how this all works. This is not the first person with a personal vendetta against the hero.
But it is the first to have played out this badly.
Toshinori watches Izuku take great, heaving breaths in his attempt at regulating his pain, and not for the first time Toshinori wishes his boy could look at him, just so he could impart some comfort into those tearful green eyes.
But Toshinori will see them soon enough.
He knows the villain is distracted and so Toshinori takes the advantage, using the tiny dredges of One for All that by now the retired hero is unsure will ever leave him entirely; he has just enough to give him a speed boost through his legs as he jumps into the fray, at once grabbing a hold of Izuku’s hand that is forced against his temple.
Toshinori successfully begins turning the weapon away from the boy’s head, but One for All cannot aid him here; no, this will rely on the pitiful amounts of strength that he still possesses as Toshinori. Blue eyes pour as much surety and calm into the fear and pain ridden green orbs that shine up at him as he fights the twisting arm of his own successor, his boy.
Toshinori can imagine the scene behind him, the out of shape, sweaty man fighting with his own limbs to be able to control Izuku’s, but Toshinori is holding his own and gaining ground, his little strength obviously still more than the man possesses.
That is until he sees out of the corner of his eye Izuku’s left arm pull back, hand clenched into a fist before it’s being driven forward, not at his full strength clearly, but enough to hurt. The blonde braces for impact, focusing his attention on keeping hold of the hand that contains the shaking weapon.
What he doesn’t expect however, are the twin points of pain as one fist connects to the soft flesh below his rib cage, and another connects just to the right of his spine, lack of muscle mass upon his frame giving him nearly no protection from the onslaught as the fists continue their assault.
Toshinori breathes harshly, still grappling in earnest with Izuku’s right hand, attempting to wrest apart scarred fingers so that he can pry the weapon away.
In the madness, Toshinori chances a look at Izuku, and he can feel his heart rend when he sees the fat tears cascading down freckled cheeks. Not only is Izuku in pain but Toshinori knows under no circumstances would he ever hurt his mentor, and the emotions this brings with it are killing him.
Toshinori smiles as softly as he can manage, “I-it’s alright, my boy, I’ll get you out of this. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He holds back the blood that he can feel trying to escape his body through his mouth, turning slightly to spit it upon the ground. He tries to ignore how that makes Izuku’s eyes widen in shock.
With the man behind him focused on pummeling his fist into the ex hero’s side, Toshinori has nearly removed the gun from any dangerous position, the barrel pointed towards the sky instead. Still the blonde can’t seem to pry Izuku’s fingers off of the cold metal.
Toshinori is tiring.
His weakened muscles can’t have picked a worse time as the punches stop, Izuku’s other hand joining the battle for ownership of the gun. Sobs rip from the boy as the gun progressively moves in the villain’s favor, but now it no longer turns to its previous position, to a space nestled between green curls.
No, now it faces Toshinori.
In a split second, Toshinori notices the direction of the weapon and is able to drop himself, throwing his body sideways.
But not before a shot rings out, and searing pain shoots through his shoulder. He cries out, mostly from the shock and the noise, immediately turning back to see both the man and Izuku panting, though for entirely different reasons.
Both of them stand above him in a matching position of two hands on the gun, arms outstretched straight ahead as the blonde puts pressure on his bleeding wound. It appears to be more of a graze than anything but Toshinori doesn’t focus on it long; their fingers still hold the trigger.
Another metallic click is heard through the ringing in Toshinori’s ears as Izuku’s thumb is forced to load the weapon once more. A whimpering cry is heard from Izuku as Toshinori stares into the boy’s eyes.
Toshinori can't imagine the anguish Izuku must be feeling, unable to control his own body, being forced to attack his mentor and friend, bleeding profusely from his injured foot as he is forced to stand. Toshinori’s eyes glare daggers into the man who still breathes heavily beside his boy, hatred taking root in the blondes gut.
This will not be the end of him, of them.
The vivid memory of their moment on the beach not an hour prior, Izuku finding the courage to hold onto Toshinori like that for the first time and the vulnerability he had shown the older man makes his heart swell; and he’ll be damned if it was the last time he experiences it.
With a snarl and a clenching of his jaw, Toshinori shoots his foot out, toe wrapping behind Izuku’s ankle, and pulling .
Now, the ex-hero knows that Izuku knows how to fall, having learned such things in the very beginning of his first year at UA. The hero training curriculum is very thorough, with the basics like knowing how to position your body so as to minimize damage during a fall being one of them.
But Izuku does not control his own body.
A pathetic, idiot of a man does, and so when Izuku’s body flails uselessly through the air due to the villain’s inexperience, it is no surprise that the boy cannot brace for impact correctly.
It doesn’t make the sharp crack of his skull against the pavement any easier to bear.
Immediately however, with Toshinori’s heroic instincts taking the wheel, he swallows his nausea and rushes forth, ignoring the sting from his arm as he kicks the gun away from Izuku’s now limp hand.
The only good thing to come from this unforeseen circumstance is that the bastard that began all of this is unconscious as well, head having done the exact same thing as Izuku’s. Quickly, Toshinori calls the local police department, letting them know of the situation at hand and his need of medical personnel.
With that done and minutes to wait through, Toshinori is immediately at Izuku’s side, gently lifting his boy’s upper body into his lap while being extremely careful of his head. Blood drips upon the ground where Izuku had suffered the blow and Toshinori feels his chest ache at the thought that he caused that, his actions brought more pain upon the already hurting boy.
The sting behind his eyes goes unheeded as blue and red flashes around him, the pavement turning a strange patchwork of colors. He hardly notices, swept up in the swirling emotions in his chest and the soft sounds of Izuku’s breathing as he watches his boy’s chest rise and fall.
He doesn’t focus on much else as they are both swept away in the ambulance that weaves through the Musutafu streets on its way to the nearest hospital.
Izuku wakes with a start, the phantom feeling of his muscles locked and silent to his commands gripping his mind. His head pounds with every quickened heartbeat as his eyes roam wildly around the bright room, pupils burning with the glare.
“Sshh, Izuku, you’re alright. You’re in the hospital, but you’re ok, I am here.”
Frantic green eyes attempt to follow the voice that is oh so familiar, the rumbling baritone of his mentor sending vibrations through the boy’s bones. Immediately it has a calming effect.
“Toshi…?” His voice sounds rough with sleep as Izuku blinks, cutting away at the blurriness of his vision. The image of his mentor, white bandages covering his upper shoulder in a thick application comes into view, a soft smile crinkling the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.
“Hello, Izuku. How are you feeling?”
Izuku doesn’t miss the sadness behind Toshi’s words, and this only confuses Izuku more. “Fine...head hurts…”
Blue eyes widen, “I’ll get the nurses—”
Izuku knows his reactions are slowed but he still juts his hand out all the same, suddenly very aware that he doesn’t want to be alone, he doesn’t want Toshi to leave.
“N-no, stay...please…”
He doesn’t look up at his mentor, only seeing in his periphery that the man stills, mid-rise from his chair.
“All right, my boy. I-if you’re sure…”
When Izuku hears the man sit again, he allows himself to peek at him, the crows feet upon Toshi’s face disappeared only to be replaced by a deep furrow between his brow. Izuku imitates it as he tries to think through the haze that has enveloped him.
He remembers Toshi and himself walking along the beach, the beautiful sunset, the butterflies through his stomach as he had latched onto Toshi’s arm—
The man.
The gun.
Green eyes widen in fear as the experience comes tumbling back, overtaking and overwhelming him. His breathing picks up.
“Izuku, you’re alright, everything is fine. Please, calm down—”
From the corner of his eye Izuku can see Toshi standing, hands hovering and searching to help. He can remember the bullet that had ripped through his foot, he feels it now, destroying bone and muscle, the pain radiating through him as he had been forced to turn the gun towards Toshi--
All at once he knows he’s going to vomit, and he fights through the dizziness that strikes him as he hauls his body up and over the side of his bed, releasing nothing but wet bile from his mouth.
“Oh, Izuku…”
He feels two hands grab him gently by the shoulders and begin to push him back onto his pillows as he gulps for air, stomach acid still churning in his gut as the memory of his finger pulling the trigger swallows him whole. Izuku doesn’t see the worried face of his mentor before him as he is now, but instead the way Toshi’s eyes had widened beneath the trees, as he had known what was about to happen, ducking for his life from Izuku. He swallows the terrible taste in his mouth.
“I-I almost killed you T-Toshi…” The tears fall without his consent but Izuku has long known that Toshi doesn’t mind when he’s emotional. Izuku finally sees the bright blue irises that have lowered to be level with his own, Toshi having bent over Izuku’s prone form.
“No.” Toshi’s voice is strong and unwavering. “You did no such thing. That evil man had you under control and not for one second do I want you to think you had anything to do with it.”
Izuku feels a sort of heat from the intense gaze Toshi has pinned him with, as if his eyes contain actual flames to reinforce his words.
“That was done to you, my boy, not by you, and I am...I am so sorry I had any part in causing you pain when you were already hurt. I...I don’t know how much you remember but it was me that caused—” Toshi takes a deep breath, eyes roaming away to some tile on the floor, “I miscalculated and you sustained that head injury,” they now raise to take in the bandage that Izuku reactively ghosts his fingers over, realizing now how it wraps around his forehead and presumably around the back. “I’m so, so sorry, Izuku.”
Izuku is still, silence falling cold and heavy across both males as Toshi moves to sit upon an unoccupied edge of the mattress, shoulders low and head ducked in shame. Izuku’s stomach protests once more, but he knows it is not from any lingering sickness but instead the recoil he feels at seeing Toshi like this, the guilt so pressing on the man’s shoulders that he seems almost broken by it. Izuku hates it.
“I reacted emotionally, not intellectually; not in any way a hero should, my boy. I just couldn’t get the thought of how the evening we had spent turned into something so ugly and twisted and final— ” he takes another breath, as Izuku looks on in disbelief, “I hope...I hope you can forgive me, Izuku.”
Izuku’s heart squeezes at Toshi’s tone—his words, his body language, it’s all wrong —and suddenly his body is moving. He’s rushing forward, bending at the waist in a way that is not in the least bit comfortable, but he barely notices, quickly winding his arms around Toshi’s middle and firmly pressing himself into his hero’s ribs. He hears the man grunt above him, the remembrance of his bandaged shoulder striking Izuku too late, but it doesn’t seem as if the thought registers to Toshi either, two thin arms quickly coming around Izuku at the awkward angle that they both find themselves.
Izuku’s voice is muffled, “No, Toshi I—ok, I don’t remember everything but I know it’s not your fault! Accidents happen and I know you would only ever try to help me and you were trying to save me and you didn’t do anything wrong there’s nothing to forgive—” His words are cut off with a slow but forceful tightening around his back, a hand coming up to touch soft curls that peek out from white bandages near the nape of his neck. Toshi chuckles.
“It sounds like we both need to take my advice then, my boy. Look at us, quick to take on the burden of fault. Like father like—”
Immediately Izuku feels Toshi go rigid between his arms, the hand that had been carding through his hair coming to a standstill. Simultaneously, Izuku doesn't think he himself is breathing but he can’t entirely be sure as his mind is whirring at a mile a minute. The unfinished thought that had fallen like a bomb from Toshi’s mouth has struck him down, the implications of those words and the reciprocation of thoughts that Izuku himself has had for so long hurled at him unexpectedly and Izuku is not prepared for this, is unsure if he ever really would have been. What is he supposed to do now?
“Izuku?”
The question is soft and cautious, as if Toshi is afraid of what his protege’s reaction will be. Izuku slowly unburies his head from where he had been frozen against the man’s torso, misty green eyes meeting worried blue. A nervous half smile blankets Toshi’s face.
“That...that was not the way I meant to say those words...I didn’t really have a plan in place but I can safely say that was not it.” Izuku feels the fingers in his hair start up again. “But...I do mean them. I have to say it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you as someone closer to me than just my student or successor. I think...I think that’s just another reason today was so dreadfully terrible. Seeing you like that, in such danger when I hadn’t ever told you what you mean to me and after the day we’d had—”
Suddenly Toshi ceases talking, concern flashing before disappearing, and Izuku wonders why until he realizes the warmth that is rapidly cooling in trails down his own face, an aching grin spreading across his cheeks. Toshi cocks his head to one side with his own smile plainly visible, a look of clear fondness shining in his gaze.
“Is that alright with you, Izuku? That I see you that way?” Toshi’s voice is calm, sure.
Izuku finds that his throat is tight with emotion but he knows by the way he throws himself bodily into Toshi once more, burying his sodden face into the man’s shirt, that Toshi needs nothing as trivial as words. When a cheek comes to rest atop his head when Izuku’s shoulders start shaking from the release of emotion, he knows his hero understands.
“Son.”