Work Text:
No one expected that night to end as it did. Class 3-A had gone to bed after a tiring school day, satisfied with their training and content with their lives.
It wasn't until the next morning, just before sunrise, when they woke to the screams. It wasn't completely unusual for students to wake from nightmares in a state of distress, to be comforted by their classmates until they were able to sleep once more.
But this was different. There were no shrieks of terror, or shouts of pure dread.
These were not the same.
These were wails of sheer agony. Of suffering. So loud the entire building was awake in seconds, rushing to the source of such sounds.
Not a single one of them expected the sounds to be coming from their brightest classmate, the friend they all turned to in their own times of need.
Class 3-A never expected they would have to see Midoriya Izuku look so crushed, so utterly broken that it physically hurt them to see.
They would never forget this night, for as long as they would live. That was something they all knew wholeheartedly.
Dreaming had not been an issue for Izuku in several years. Ever since he'd met his father figure mentor and his life had been flipped completely on its axis, Izuku had been happy.
There were bumps along the road to get to where he was, the many curves and turns he and his friends had taken through the years of villain attacks on their class, the shared experiences that bound them together for life, as no one else would ever understand the things they'd endured. For all that others would claim, they weren't always strong, and they all had moments where they couldn't hold themselves together anymore. That's why they'd all resolved to be there for one another at the drop of a hat whenever needed.
None of those moments with his classmates could have prepared Izuku for the night Yagi Toshinori passed from the world.
By association, and the deeper connection both shared through their minds and souls because of One for All, Izuku was the first to find out. It wouldn't break the news for hours to come, when someone would find the man in peaceful silence in his bed come morning. But the moment Izuku entered the familiar dreamscape, he felt something was different. It didn't feel wrong, per se, but like something had finally clicked in place that wasn't there before. A final puzzle piece being turned in the right direction to fit the empty space it belonged in.
The vestiges were crowded in a brightly-lit circle, shielding Izuku's view of what they were so occupied with.
As he drew closer, though, he saw. And when he saw, his heart fell to pieces.
Yoichi was the first to notice him, and the smile he wore only slightly dimmed from that of pride and joy, to a gaze of sympathetic love.
The other vestiges slowly realized his arrival, and stepped back from their gathered circle. As if offering space for what was to come. En leaned into Hikage's side, seemingly preparing for the need to be comforted. Second and Third stood to the side, as they normally did, but their expressions were those of somber ones. Banjou gave Izuku a reassuring nod, and joined Yoichi at the back. The only one left in the end was Nana, her hands on the shoulders of the man before her who gazed down at her with such relief and devotion that Izuku's chest ached.
He met the man's eyes over Nana's head, and Izuku's knees wobbled in place, threatening to give out beneath him if he even dared to take another step forward.
Toshinori stood there, in all his blazing golden glory, with eyes so soft and filled with enough affection to force sobs from Izuku's throat and tears from his eyes.
Gone were the gaunt cheeks and hollow, blackened sclera. No longer was he so thin you could see bones through skin. Instead, he seemed full. Like he'd been in his younger days, before the great battles and wondrous victories that would one day lead to his ever-declining health and well-being. His eyes were white with bright blue irises, the pallor of his skin was no more, now returned to a more lively-looking color. And wasn't that ironic, that the greatest Hero to ever live seemed more alive in death than he did in the living world.
Nana noticed his distraction and turned, seeing Izuku standing there, and stepped back with a sad smile. She nudged Toshinori forward, who didn't hesitate to approach Izuku from just a small distance, only few metres away. It only took him a couple of strides before he stood in front of Izuku, who looked up with blurred vision and his throat already growing sore from holding back cries.
"My boy," Toshinori reached out, gently tussling Izuku's bangs. "I am glad you are here."
"You shouldn't be," Izuku choked, shaking his head. "N-Not yet. I'm not..."
Toshinori tilted his head back upward, his stare sure and steady. "Not what, Izuku-shounen? Not ready? I believe you are."
Izuku finally fell, strong arms not thin nor bony, it felt wrong wrong wrong the only thing holding him in place, wrapped around his shoulders as a father would hold a precious child. Izuku pressed his forehead to Toshinori's chest and cried. "I-I can't do this w-without you! You can't g-go yet!"
"You can," Toshinori said into his hair, rubbing his back in a vague sense of comfort. Izuku felt no relief from the action, only grief. "I had my time in the sun, my boy. Now, it is your turn. You have made me so proud. I am always here with you, inside One for All. It connects us to one another, it always will. I am never truly gone from you."
"It w-won't be the same," Izuku sobbed, words stuttered and jagged around the edges, unlike the sureness he usually spoke with. "P-Please...!"
"My boy, look at me," Toshinori carefully extracted himself, placing his large hands on Izuku's cheeks and rubbing the tears away, though it was a fruitless effort as they were only replaced in mere seconds. "You are my greatest joy. I have never been more proud of anyone or anything in my days, as I am of you. You... are the son I never had. The time we had together is my most treasured. And I know that you can do this. You are going to be the greatest Hero the world has seen yet."
Izuku vigorously shook his head, sniffling a rather ugly noise. "I-I can't live up to y-you! I'll never b-be a Symbol of Peace!"
"No," Toshinori smiled, hands gently stilling Izuku's movements. "You will be a Symbol of Hope. Someone that the people will look to and know they are safe, and cared for. You, my boy, pay more attention to detail than myself. You care so much, and that will get you farther than I have ever gone. The world will look at Midoriya Izuku and know he is there for them."
Scarred hands clutched at the top of the hero outfit Toshinori wore, a lightened version of his Young Age costume. "Please... Otousan, please don't go..."
A sad laugh came from the hero before him, and arms wrapped themselves around Izuku's back once more. "You will be alright, Izuku, my son. If you are ever truly in need of me, I am right here. All Might had a wonderful run, but it's time for Deku to show the world who he is. And he is going to do amazingly, I'm sure. He will make everyone proud, as he has made me."
As Izuku splintered and cracked open in his mentor's father's arms, the other seven slowly approached and joined their small huddle until it was one large circle once more. Nana hugged Izuku's side, but not tight enough to separate him from Toshinori, and Yoichi placed a grounding hand between his shoulder blades, up close to the back of his neck. Banjou patted Izuku's head gently, switching between pats and rubs. En, Hikage, Second, and Third still stood apart from them all, but were close enough now that Izuku could feel their presence like the others around him, and that in itself was enough for him to know that they cared.
"It's time to wake up, son. A new day awaits you."
Izuku wanted to argue, though he knew it was one he wouldn't win. So, he didn't. He let the vestiges guide him into wakefulness, as much as he longed to stay there forever in the arms of his predecessor.
The more he felt himself regain consciousness, as the dreamscape faded, a hole of painful emptiness grew in Izuku's chest. Hollow, dark, fueled by longing and grief.
He had never experienced such a feeling of despondency in his life.
Then, the screams started.
Izuku's floormates were the first to slam open his door―Yuuga and Hitoshi and Fumikage all in their rumpled pajamas, fear etched onto their faces at seeing their friend in such a state. The girls from the other side of their floor were next, and in minutes, nearly every member of Class 3-A crowded in the hallway where Izuku's room resided. The door was open, and those who were near enough to see inside (or were inside) were met with one of the most heartbreaking scenes they'd ever witnessed.
Tenya, Shouto, and Ochako barely hesitated to rush in and drop down by his bedside to attempt to calm him, but every time one of them made to reach out, Izuku jerked away and scurried himself further into the corner where his bed met the wall.
His hands were clutched tightly at his scalp, pulling at his hair with a white-knuckled grip. Wails echoed throughout the entire building, and Izuku heaved for breaths that wouldn't come. Unintelligible words were cried, but nobody could make out what was being said through the gasps and keens and moans of distress and pain.
Students were roughly shoved out of the way to make room for Aizawa to throw himself into the room upon his own arrival. Their teacher, more vigilant than the rest of them, had seen immediately that the hair-clutching was starting to rip at Izuku's scalp, and he climbed onto Izuku's bed to kneel down in front of him, carefully but firmly grasping at his wrists.
"Midoriya, I need you to let go for me. You're starting to hurt yourself. Can you hear me?"
Izuku thrashed violently in Aizawa's grip, the movement releasing the hold he had on his hair but left his aching fingers clenching on air, searching for something to desperately claw at. "NO! LET ME GO!"
It was the first thing they heard him clearly speak since it started, and it was nothing they were hoping to hear. Several of the students were in tears themselves, holding each other as they watched their friend, their confidante, their brother, so intent on getting away from their teacher.
"Midoriya!" Aizawa shouted, desperate to get his student to listen to him. "Breathe with me, come on! You're safe, you're in your dorm room, nothing is wrong!"
"HE'S GONE! HE'SGONEHE'SGONEHE'SGONE!"
"Who? Who is gone, Midoriya?" Aizawa's eyes raced over Izuku's face, soaked with tears and red with lines scratched into it by his own nails.
Izuku didn't clarify, but the more he screamed, the more tired out he seemed to get, and he collapsed against Aizawa, bawling into his sleep shirt and clenching it between scarred fingers with nailbeds caked red.
One student stepped forward, slowly, as to not startle Izuku, and kneeled down beside Izuku's best friends. Red, vermilion eyes met Izuku's broken green, and Katsuki's heart sank. "Deku."
"K-Kacchan, he―he's full! He's not supposed to be full! He's not! He―He's gone!"
"...Bakugou, who is he talking about?" Aizawa murmured quietly.
Katsuki gripped Izuku's bedsheets tight. "Send one of the teachers to check on All Might."
Muffled laments of sorrow sounded against their teacher's chest, and Aizawa hugged Izuku tighter to him, like he could hold together the pieces of his very being that were falling apart.
"Bakugou―"
"Sensei," Katsuki choked, a rare sound that no one in the room had probably ever heard from him. "If Deku's... If he's reacting this way, something's really fucking wrong. He and All Might are more connected than most people know. This wasn't a fucking nightmare, he's not scared. That's grief."
There was a brief pause, though not a silent one. The only sounds were coming from Izuku, whose loud cries were slowly breaking the hearts of everyone around them. Aizawa jerked his head. "Iida. Call Recovery Girl, do what Bakugou said."
"Yes, sensei!"
For a few, long minutes, everyone stood still with baited breaths for the response Tenya would get from Recovery Girl that could possibly calm their classmate.
But there was no such luck. Tenya froze, dropping his phone to the floor and staggering slightly, flinging his arm out to grip Ochako's shoulder for stability. "He... All Might..."
He couldn't finish the sentence, but Katsuki already knew. He still stared into Izuku's glassy, barely-focused eyes, and he said lowly but enough for everyone to hear his clarification. "He's dead. All Might died in his sleep."
Izuku's howls resurfaced back to their original volume, reaching one arm to Katsuki while the other kept hold of their homeroom teacher. Katsuki let Izuku hold his hand, for once in their lives, and he dropped his gaze to the floor so no one would see his tears.
The news would break hours later. The world would begin to mourn.
But none grieved so much as Midoriya Izuku. The successor, the son in everything but blood, of the Hero the world would say their final goodbyes to.
▶ BREAKING NEWS! THE DEATH OF THE SYMBOL OF PEACE, ALL MIGHT!