Chapter Text
Yagi Toshinori
It must have been ages. It felt like such. Nana Shimura was dead. Killed in a fight against All For One.
Nana never left him in the dark about anything One For All related, always needing to feel in control, and teach Toshinori to do his best in the field. No point in needlessly putting himself in danger.
Unfortunately, Toshinori had trouble regulating that, and it only got worse after her death.
As soon as he graduated, he hauled his bisexual ass to America.
He was independent for a while, earning his living, and enjoying the dregs of fame his dream career bought for him. It wasn't why he signed on as a hero, but he enjoyed having an effect on the people.
He liked making them feel safe, like Nana did for him. He didn't have the opportunity to meet anyone particularly special while he was abroad, fully immersing himself in his work the very moment he arrived.
Day after day, night after night, he worked. The cheerful, confidence-inspired, hope-giving smile that Nana said he had never once wavered in the face of villains internationally. He usually stayed in this little corner of the country, but occasionally he would stray, eventually reaching out to the far corners of this section of the world.
It may not be his home-country. He may not feel like he had any right to judge, but this country was so full of crime, it almost felt wrong to take a day off.
When he met David Shield, though, everything changed.
The man forced him to take care of himself, gave him healthy distractions so he didn't have to think about Nana when he wasn't working.
And also he may have liked David for a bit, dare he say it was a crush, but the man was devoted to his girlfriend, so Toshinori got over it.
It wasn't the first time he'd had to do that, that's for sure. Nobody ever really liked the helpless Quirkless kid.
Nana changed all that, though. She had a kid, he thinks, but she sent him away to live with his grandparents, so he wouldn't be in danger, in the sights of All For One.
The man was still out there, but he hadn't shown up yet, in the several years it had been since Nana's death. Toshinori was half-ready to admit that maybe he actually was gone for good, that Nana scared him off, or gave him injuries too grave to handle. He would have believed that, if he wasn't so paranoid.
By the time he left America, headed back to Japan with a smile just slightly less bright, David Shield and his girlfriend had gotten married.
He must have been gone for long enough for the world to completely change, because by the time he blinked, thirteen years had gone by. No longer was he a hero in training, or something a little more than that. He was Number Three in America, under some others that definitely deserved the position.
He was craving the structure of home. His childhood home was surely gone by now, and Toshinori didn't really make an effort to check either. He headed to see Principal Nezu at UA, and maybe speak with his old homeroom teacher, Gran Torino.
He walked onto campus, his hero license enough to grant him access to the school. Nezu always kept the school perfectly safe, and equipped the gates with facial recognition in addition to ID checking.
Yagi Toshinori, or, as he's better known as, All Might, walked steadily along the road to the school. He stopped by a few training grounds, to see how the new students were fairing in the profession, and he saw promise in all of them.
"Give it back!"
A shout from behind the gym drew Toshinori's attention from the training going on in the designated area. Then there was a harsh hitting sound, and a distinct thump, and Toshinori went running.
There was a group of kids, first years by the looks of it, standing over a prone form on the ground. The figure shuffled, unable to stand just seconds after being hit. Toshinori was caught between helping out, which was the heroic option, or staying out of it, and seeing what would happen if he left this kid to fend for themself. What would they do?
They eventually stood up, and faced the bullies.
"Give it back." They sneered, getting ready to be hit, again.
The students saw the kid's determined posture, and seemed to grow confused. Some of them seemed to want to continue fighting the injured child, and the others pulled them away, realizing it wasn't worth it. The leader, the one that carried the confidence only someone that started this could possess, threw a little object at the trembling form of the kid that had stood up against them.
The kid scrambled to catch it before it fell to the ground, in the dust of the training grounds.
Eventually, the kid turned in his direction, and Toshinori was alerted to two things.
One: the kid was bleeding from his nose, and was trying to stop the flow.
Two: this kid looked exactly like Nana.
"Who are you?" The kid asked him, taking a defensive step back.
Toshinori didn't get a chance to reply, taking two steps forward to try and figure out if this kid is somehow related to his late mentor, when a blond kid ran out to meet him.
"Shouta!" The blond child, probably the bleeding one's classmate or friend, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Yamada," he grumbled in reply, "They took the picture."
"Of your mother?"
"Yeah," the black haired one sighed, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose, and leaned forward, "I drove them away with my irresistible charm."
"You mean they left you alone because you wouldn't stay down and remain uninjured?"
"Whatever," the first child scoffed.
The blond one finally noticed Toshinori, looking surprised, and star-struck as he recognized him.
"All Might?" He asked, like he wasn't already completely sure that that's who Toshinori is, "You're my hero! You're so cool!"
He looked caught, remaining hesitant. Toshinori, once again, got the pressing sense that he should see what happens. He figured eventually the kid would cave, ask Toshinori for his autograph, or something similar to what kids his age usually asked of him, but to his immense surprise, and pride, the kid turned away from him.
"Come on, Sho," the kid ushered the still-bleeding black haired teenager in the direction of the main school building, "Recovery Girl will fix that for you."
"Yeah, sure. Let's go."
Toshinori waited another ten minutes just processing what happened. When he did, he surveyed his surroundings in surprise, wondering if those bullies were going to get away with it.
"Yo, look! The little hero left his prize," one of the kid's laughed obnoxiously, coming around this side of the grounds to pick up where they left off, "What should we do to it?"
"Return it?"
"Bor ing. Let's keep it!"
"I have a better idea! We should burn it, and watch him go crazy looking for it!"
All four kids shrieked their ideas, reaching for the little scuffed up photo, the tallest one holding it away.
Unfortunately for them, Toshinori was taller than all of them, and snatched the object from the bullies' grasp, further preventing it from being damaged.
"You shouldn't set fire to someone else's property. That's illegal," he scolded them, watching them pale, seeing All Might admonish them for harassment, "unlawfully punishing a student is against school rules. Run off, now, before I talk to Nezu about what happened here today. And for the record, I saw everything."
He was going to talk to Nezu about it anyways, and would usually tell people off for lying, but desperate times call for desperate measures. This is the exception.
He watched the kids trip over themselves to get away, which may have made him feel just a little bit better.
He sighed as they left, gripping the object just enough to avoid damaging it.
His eyes flicked down to it, and brushed away some of the dust from the ground. He spied a shock of black hair against a starch white background, and he froze. He lifted his finger, and the smiling face of a woman he hadn't seen in so many years greeted him.
She was sitting on the ground, feet underneath her. She held a bundle of blankets, a small face peeking out from between them. That must be the kid that had been at odds with his adversaries.
He sighed, even more gentle with the photograph now that he knew just how special it was, and he looked on to the school, hoping to return this treasure to its owner.
And then he started walking towards the school, photo in hand, and heart heavy with unwanted grief.
"Is that Yagi Yoshinori?" Nezu asked Toshinori, walking into the office.
"It is indeed, sir," Toshinori laughed, making sure his cape wouldn't get caught in the door as it slid shut.
"How long has it been?"
Toshinori knew for a fact that Nezu knew the answer to that already, but he would answer it anyways. Just because, "Uh, fourteen years, sir."
"Oh, please," Nezu scoffed in his high, chipper tone, "Just Nezu. You are an alumni, are you not?"
"Alright then. If that's what you'd like."
"What brings you back to Japan?"
"Nostalgia, mostly," Toshinori started up a familiar conversation, "Got the feeling that I was ready. Is Torino still around?"
"No, unfortunately he retired a few years ago," Nezu sighed, "It's been tough finding a teacher like him. But I have hope for this new one."
The same teacher that lets entire groups of bullies attack that black haired kid? Hope sometimes just isn't enough. Should he bring that up? Would the kid want him to?
Toshinpri may feel like standing by to see how people react, but he's not cruel, "are you aware of the bullies in the school?"
Nezu's eyes glinted with something akin to malice, and his smile sharpened slightly, "No, I was not. Do you mind filling me in?"
"There is a black haired child, chin-length. I saw him getting assaulted outside of Gym Gamma. They took one of his belongings. Something obviously important to him."
"And what would that be, Yagi?" Nezu's paws were laid out in front of him, but Toshinori could tell that he was just itching to destroy those children.
Toshinori put the precious photo on the desk in front of the principal, almost sad to part with it to someone that isn't the kid.
Nana Shimura's son was being bullied in school. Eight words he never thought he'd say, or even think.
"This is quite the oversight," Nezu's smile widened, almost scarily manic, now, "You may take the photo back. I have a feeling that you'd like it to be personally returned to the owner?"
He said it with a questioning tone, but he very obviously wasn't asking. Toshinori nodded his head, tenderly holding the object in his large hands.
"What will you do?" Toshinori asked, mainly out of curiosity. Maybe fear.
"Oh, just some student growth meetings. Meeting with their homeroom teacher," Nezu hummed airly, eyes holding all the emotion Toshinori was hoping for. All the anger, the petty feelings of revenge, even the undertones of sadness.
"Alright. It's none of my business, really," Toshinori held the photograph, and smiled at Nezu, almost matching the intensity.
"Make haste. Aizawa must be getting out of the school right about now," Nezu dismissed him, turning his attention to a desktop device, probably used quite often to destroy his rivals.
Aizawa Shouta. The son of Nana Shimura.
Toshinori walked briskly out of the school, and tried to find Aizawa, to return his property.
Toshinori found Aizawa walking alone, away from the school. He walked quickly, and almost nervously. Like he was expecting to be attacked. Which Toshinori supposed was possible.
He seemed to be trying to get as far away from the school as possible, which, after what Toshinori saw today, was valid.
While he was trying to catch up to Aizawa, the kid stopped, patted his pockets, and gasped in alarm.
"Where did it go?" He asked himself, panicked. As Toshinori jogged to catch up, he saw Aizawa checking the ground around him, and all his pockets.
"Are you alright?" Toshinori asked, finally caught up.
"What do you want?" Young Aizawa asked, still frantic for whatever was missing.
Toshinori supposed it was the photo that he was missing.
"You dropped this," Toshinori handed the kid his possession. The picture that shook his heart and mind, taking away his breath, and leaving his lungs screaming for air.
His companion from earlier mentioned that the woman in the photograph is his mother.
Toshinori had the incredible fortune to meet Nana Shimura's son.
Aizawa's eyes landed on the beautiful object. and sagged in relief.
"Thank you, " he said, lightly taking the photo, and smiling at it slightly, brushing off any excess dirt.
"May I ask you a question?" Toshinori asked, once Aizawa carefully put the weathered photograph in his pocket, "If that's alright?"
"What," the kid spat, still wiping his nose just in case more blood was coming up.
"Would you like to train with me?"