Chapter Text
Hands.
They wrapped around the slim neck of a gasping man, with stringy, shoulder length white hair.
Smaller, bonier hands were grappling with his arms, his fingers, anywhere they could find purchase, in a vain attempt to remove them from his person.
He squeezed harder.
The smaller man gagged, wheezed, trying to take in breaths that he simply wouldn't allow.
Why would he? After all, the younger, frail body below him deserved this. He brought this upon himself.
The elder, the dominate, had done everything he could to take care of his sickly little brother. He had taken care of him when their parents abandoned them, loved him when the world had overlooked him, had protected him from a society that was at its worst, and for what? For his confused, obstinate, disobedient, brother to escape his perfectly safe home and attach himself into one of the most dangerous conflicts of their time to play hero. For his ungrateful brother to willingly give his power, his gift from his loving, patient, older brother , to some dirty dog who couldn't even protect his comrades from enemy forces.
But he still had managed to hold it together, to understand that his little brother was simply misguided, and needed some adjustment. Countless days and sleepless nights were spent at the youngers expense, trying to find him again. Not that he grew bitter, he understood that it was his duty as an older brother to lovingly keep his troublesome charge in line, despite his many transgressions.
Even in their earlier fight, his anger had stayed in check, while his weak, pathetic brother had only managed to show his incompetence by spewing nothing but undue hatred from his lips.
All for One had pinned him down, looking in his face as his little Yoichi lay on his back, glaring daggers into his eyes. He was just about to lecture him on the dangers of his hero fantasies once again, when his brother spoke the words that echoed in his head, even now.
You're just like father.
His eyes lost the smugness in them. They became blank.
They didn't register the way his brother had flinched at his own words. Or the way his own hands let go of his brother's to snake down to his neck. He didn't feel the way his fingers coiled around the youngers slim throat, tighter and tighter, mimicking the cresendo of his own spiraling emotions.
He simply wanted to have his brother love him. Was that too much? Was wanting to be loved such a great sin? Was wanting to be listened to, to be adored, such a burden that his only family felt the need to reject him, and spit on him, at every turn?
Wasn't his love enough? It had been before, back when they were younger. Did his brother truly prioritize the lives of strangers more then his only relative? The only person who could ever bother to love him?
So caught up in his thoughts, he couldn't see the way his brother's eyes leaked tears, or the words he desperately tried to speak. He couldn't feel the way the pinned man lashed about, trying in vain to break free.
He couldn't feel the way the movements were growing weaker.
The body underneath him began to stop struggling, slowly, with nothing but abject fear in the youngers eyes. But even that began to slowly simmer as his body grew tired, and his eyes began to lose focus.
It was only a few seconds before they closed, that All For One had finally began to connect with the world around him again, and he truely saw what was in front of him.
His delicate, tiny brother lay limp under him, his eyes now shut.
Something in him stilled.
He let go, his hands still hovering near by.
And for one painful moment, he watched.
And waited.
...
Eyes immediately fixated on the small movement of Yoichis chest, carefully, painstakingly taking note of how it rose and fell.
It was only then, that he dared breath too.
He slowly removed himself, keeping thorough account of how he moved, and where his body was in accordance to the delicate one underneath him.
Once kneeling beside the younger, he lowered his head and placed his ear over his brother's heart, barely daring to graze his chest. A much too quiet and yet a much too loud thumping resounded underneath, both sending relief and anxiety through his veins.
His hands dug into the ground, tearing the grass underneath.
He took another breath in.
He closed his eyes.
He listened.
He took a breath out.
Then peeled his eyes open again.
Finally, he allowed himself to slowly raise him head, and begin the delicate process of carefully picking up his brother.
Every second not needed to watch where his own hands were went to watching the youngers chest. Until finally, his gaze wandered to his neck.
A small voice in the back of his mind spoke.
It will bruise.
...
It displeased him immensely.
He would heal it later.
After a few more moments, his brother was now safe in his arms, cradled preciously to his chest. He stared at him for a moment longer before resolving himself to the journey home.
They were in front of the vault door. Yoichi still hadn't woken up.
That was fine. It made it easier to traverse back home. The man was more tired then he would like to admit, and having to hold his struggling brother still while making his journey home would not have been pleasant. The last few nights of preparing for their meeting had taken its toll, and he needed to rest.
Carefully orienting his passenger, he opened the door and evenly walked his way inside. The darkness was barely an obstacle as he made his way to his brother's bed, and lowered him down on the mattress. With deliberate movements, he took a blanket and pulled it up to his brother's shoulders, tucking him in.
Eyes traveled to the unconcious man's neck, where angry, hand-shaped blotches of red had already began to turn purple. He reached a hand towards it, and fingers ghosted the bruises with only minimal hesitancy.
The colors began to receed as the man activated one of his quirks. It was a minor healing quirk that only served to fix superficial injuries. The pain and more deeper damage wouldn't go away, but it would make the person he used it on look more presentable.
His brother still being able to feel the pain would be less then ideal, but it was fine. He could bring his brother tea when he woke up, and use it to try and broach a conversation with him. They both had quite a bit to talk about after this little hiccup of theirs. He was sure it would all eventually fixed, especially if any visual reminders of such events were removed.
After a moment, his little brothers neck was completely back to its previous healthy look, and the man removed himself from the bed. As he walked to the door, his mind began to plan for the conversation in store for tomorrow. It was an important one, something that couldn't be avoided. Only the most gentle of proddings could be used, as he could imagine that emotions would be quite high with the other man in the vault. Not that he wasn't used to dealing with such outburst. He would simply have to be more patient then usual when expecting an apology from him.
Because, eventually, he was getting one. He hadn't forgotten what was said. He wouldn't take this matter lightly.
Once an amends was made, he would forgive his silly little brother, as he had forgiven him many times over, and they could carry on towards his goal of being a happy family.
Outside the entrance way to the room, he closed the vault door, locking it behind him. Visions of the wonderful future he would create filled his mind, as his brother lay unconcious behind several feet of steel.
Everything would be well.