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Toshinori stares at the cup of tea in front of him, cold hands wrapped around the warm ceramic. It is freshly brewed; filling the air with a scent he doesn’t necessarily hate but would like to live without. He misses the taste of coffee, misses the smell of it, misses even just the sight of it brewing – but he is not allowed to touch the coffee pot in the teacher’s lounge, and an earful from Recovery Girl makes him think twice about sneaking. She always knows, for some reason.
He misses being able to eat anything, too, hamburgers and fries with a side of cola, fried shrimp dipped in dynamite sauce and touched with just a hint of lemon, the casual tequila, the quiet whiskey, a shot of vodka…
Vodka sounds great right about now.
But it’s something his stomach can’t handle, haven’t been able to handle in a while.
There’s a lot of that now.
Things he can’t handle.
Food is one thing, he noted. Coffee, another. And with each agonizing sip of tea, he counts them.
Prolonged silence - it gives him too much to think about.
Nana and Gran and Tenko – living nightmares, he thinks. Failures, mostly his, people he can’t save, things he can’t do.
Izuku dying.
He sniffs at the thought and stands to refill his tea.
There isn’t much to do in his dorm room in Heights Alliance except drink tea and listen to old tunes at two am – shows aren’t like they used to be.
There was a musical he had fallen in love with when he was younger, about a young man who aimed for the stars; selfless and determined, he kept on chasing after opportunities and fought tooth and nail against whatever life threw at him, never letting up, never being satisfied, he pushed and pushed and fought. He died by the hands of a friend.
Toshinori admired him, loathe he is to admit because now he thinks, he should’ve stopped when he was ahead.
Toshinori blinks and realizes that the pot of tea is empty, his cup only halfway filled. Whatever is left of his stomach grumbles quietly and he realizes he hadn’t eaten anything since morning. He wonders if he should stop by the common kitchen. He remembers Inko telling him she left some curry in the fridge in case he would like some. She told him this for breakfast and lunch, too, except then she prepared onigiri and miso soup.
Inko lives in Heights Alliance together with 3-A, after Nezu offered her a room in consideration of Izuku’s condition.
“It’s not your choice, All Might.”
Toshinori checks the time again and wonders if Izuku is awake.
“No! No, you do not get to say that!”
He doesn’t want to see him.
“You gave me this gift. I don’t care if it’s killing me. I won’t let it kill you.”
“You’re being selfish, Izuku -”
“I – “
He didn’t mean to say it. Izuku is far from selfish.
“I don’t care what you say. I don’t care if you think I’m selfish or unreasonable. I don’t care. Because if I ever cared about what other people told me, then I wouldn’t be here either way. I would’ve been dead.”
“But you’re not – you’re here – there’s still –“
“It’s not your choice, All Might. I won’t let you take it away from me.”
Izuku is endlessly selfless and kind and determined.
“I won’t give you One for All.”
This will end up killing him.
Toshinori downs his tea in one gulp and closes off all thoughts in going to the kitchen.
He doesn’t want to see Izuku – doesn’t want to take any chances.
He can’t lose what he doesn’t have.
Toshinori wishes he doesn’t have to lose him at all.