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All Might’s words cut Izuku deeply. His idol, the Symbol of Peace, who always said “anyone can be a hero” in his interviews, crushed his dreams of being a quirkless hero. He stood on the rooftop All Might had left him on, numb to the world. He couldn’t even hear the large explosion that occurred moments after the hero left down the stairway. Eventually, a cold breeze shocked him out of his dissociative state, and he walked home slowly.
When he enters the door to his home, his mother dotes on him like the good parent she is. Izuku, riddled with guilt for doing it, lies to her and says he took a longer route due to a villain attack blocking the roads. She shows him the news clip she recorded for him, showing that Katsuki Kacchan had been taken by the sludge villain that nearly killed him. All Might saved Katsuki Kacchan before any permanent damage could occur. He’s being held overnight at the hospital for observation. When asked if he wants to go visit, Izuku says no.
That evening, Izuku numbly tells his mother he’s going out for fresh air. His mother, worried but trusting her son, lets him.
//
The sun just disappeared over the horizon when Izuku meets with the door to Aldera Junior High. With a small sigh, he enters the building, taking care to stay out of sight of the shoddy security cameras as he walks through the halls. It only takes a couple minutes before Izuku opens the door to the roof. He removes his shoes and socks, leaving them beside the doorway as he walks over to the ledge. He grips the guardrails tight, looking down at the street below.
“I forget how cold it can get at night, regardless of the season.”
A sudden soft voice shocks Izuku from his daze, and his head whips around to meet the speaker. On top of the school’s plant room sat a young man, right knee up with a semi-large scythe lazily draped over the same side’s shoulder. Two pairs of gray angelic wings jutted from his back, pointed directly behind him. When he meets Izuku’s gaze, his dark brown eyes suddenly began to glow brightly against the moonlit sky behind him. Those same eyes carried a weight Izuku felt but couldn’t describe. The smile, knowing and soft, eased his nerves.
Izuku finally spoke. “Are… are you here to stop me?”
The unnamed man’s head dips just a bit before shaking side to side. His voice remains soft as he replies, “No.”
“Then why are you up here? When did you get here?”
“I’ve been here for the past twenty minutes, friend.”
“Is that your quirk?” The excitement of possibly a new quirk to analyze shines through Izuku’s eyes, barely peeking through the bleakness.
The man raises a brow, flashing the tiniest of smirks. “Nope, I don’t have one.”
Izuku blankly stares at the man now, befuddled by the reply. “No quirk? B-but then how…”
Before Izuku can rush into a dozen questions about the man’s wings and imperceptibility, the man stands up with a soft huff. He jumps and floats down from the plant room’s roof. Standing at the same elevation, Izuku can see that this man is the same height as him, if not just a centimeter or two shorter. His black short-sleeved muscle shirt and green sweatpants are in full view, too.
“Come now, young one, you’re an intelligent one. What do I look like, exactly?”
To accentuate his point, the man opens his arms, notably tightening his grip on his scythe. It takes not even a minute for Izuku to connect the dots with the prompt as his eyes flash with realization. The man flashes a full smile.
“I am Azrael, the Angel of Death, at your service. It is nice to make your acquaintance, Izuku Midoriya.”
The man – Azrael – holds out his free hand, which Izuku shakes after a moment of hesitation.
“If you’re not here to stop me,” Izuku starts. “And if you’re really the Angel of Death like you say, then are you here to encourage me?”
Azrael snorts and shakes his head. “Nothing of the sort, young Izuku. I am here merely as a watcher. I am not allowed to directly interfere in the deaths of mortals without clearance from the Lords of Death.”
“The Lords of Death?” Izuku parrots.
“Lord Hades and Lady Persephone, Lord Anubis, Lord Arawn, the gods who have dominion over the dead, collection of the dead, and the worlds of the dead. Collectively, they’re all known as the Lords of Death.”
“Aren’t Hades and Anubis from different mythologies? And who’s Arawn?”
“To answer your second question, Lord Arawn is the Celtic god of the dead. Nearly all mythologies have some truth, and most of the gods you humans have worshiped over the millennia exist in some capacity. Not all of your myths and histories are correct, but I’m sure you understand the gist.”
Izuku nods, understanding what he feels he should. “So why are you here exactly? Why couldn’t I see you until now?”
Azrael ruffles Izuku’s hair affectionately. “I appear before almost everyone eventually. Other psychopomps like Lord Thanatos and Lord L’Ankou are still active, but I’m the most active. I can appear before any number of people at once, though I’m not omnipresent.”
The angel steps back and holds up three fingers. “While I can make myself visible to anyone at any time, there are three groups to whom I am always visible: people who are already dead, people who are in the process of dying and cannot be saved, and people who are about to take their own life.”
“Does your appearance mean I’m going to do it regardless?”
Azrael shakes his head. “While I only appear involuntarily to those ready and about to commit suicide, my appearance to this group doesn’t necessarily mean they wind up going through with it. Sometimes my presence scares them off; they may change their mind and try to fight for another day; someone else might save them. Other times they don’t notice me and do it, or my presence doesn’t bother them, and they continue. All my presence means is you have the opportunity and the mental readiness to go through with it.”
Izuku furrows his brows in thought. “In other words, you’re here to see what happens and to collect my soul if I jump.”
Azrael nods his head.
“You’re really not going to even try and stop me?”
“You can’t know if I’m trying to, as my body will not allow me to take any action that would directly save you.”
Izuku narrows his eyes. “That wasn’t what I asked…”
Azrael flashed a coy smirk. “Isn’t it? Is it not?”
Before he could dwell on it too much, Izuku shakes the thought out of his mind. “So what happens now?”
Azrael brings his free hand up, motioning toward Izuku. “What happens now is up to you. You may do what you came here to do, you may walk away, or we could continue to talk.”
“What could we talk about at a time like this?”
“I’ve heard from some of the people I’ve been in this situation with that sometimes talking about what you here helps. Sometimes it helps them pass on with a weight off their shoulder, with a clear conscience. Sometimes it shocks them out of the decision.”
Izuku looks down at his feet, considering his options. He has been feeling weighed down but is still determined to follow through. He looks back up, meeting Azrael’s glowing eyes again, and speaks.
//
Izuku surprisingly feels lighter after his story to someone. All Might’s secret alone had been crying to come out to someone else. Azrael, for his part, simply looked to the ground in what appeared to be deep thought.
The angel’s eyes snapped back up, almost startling Izuku with how quickly the air around them shifted. Azrael walked to Izuku, enveloping him in a warm embrace.
“Thank you for trusting me with your story, young Izuku.”
Izuku was now doubly confused. He didn’t think that the angel would hug him, being an angel of death and not being permitted to interfere; What had his brain blue-screening, though, were his words.
“…You’re not going to apologize for what I’ve been through?” Izuku hesitantly asks the angel.
Azrael separates from Izuku, keeping his hands on Izuku’s shoulders as he stares directly into the greenette’s eyes. “You don’t need any pitying remarks, Izuku. You deserve better.”
In an instant, Izuku’s world shifted. “What…?”
“Your feelings are completely valid, Izuku. If I were still human, I don’t think I could’ve stayed alive for as long as you have. Nobody should endure such abuse, especially not for something you cannot control. You’re not worth less than anyone else just for rolling what you rolled in the lottery of life.”
Izuku didn’t realize he was crying until he could feel wetness gliding down his cheeks.
“You are strong, Izuku, for making it this far. I completely understand if you wish to let go.”
Let go.
Something about that suddenly feels very wrong to Izuku. Let go? After making it through so much already? Would it be a waste? How would his mother feel if he followed through?
Izuku gazes off into the distance. “What if I didn’t want to anymore?”
“Hm?” Azrael replies.
Izuku looks back at the angel. “What if I wanted to keep going?”
Azrael flashes another comforting smile. “That is your choice to make and yours alone. I will not judge you for either decision. I believe you have the strength and willpower necessary to endure.”
Izuku raises an eyebrow in confusion, so Azrael continues.
“I won’t try to comfort you and say that it will get better, because a blanket statement like that is a lie. Life has ups and downs, sometimes higher and lower than you think they can get. You’ve experienced the ebbing and flowing. I think you’re strong enough to power through the lowest of lows and fight your way to the highest of highs; That said, standing against the waves takes a lot of will and energy. You have to constantly be at work in order to last. Progress is never linear. You are well within your rights to let go at any time.”
//
Izuku looks to the ledge he was leaning against earlier.
His mind drifts to his mother. How would she feel having to bury her child?
His mind drifts to Kacc- Katsuki. He finally realizes what Katsuki has done to him isn’t right and never was right. How would he feel if Izuku powered through all his taunts and attacks?
His mind returns to the present, looking to his Primordial Reds, and his mind drifts to the quirkless people across the world. He would only be remembered as a statistic if he jumped, wouldn’t he? Just another meaningless number. Someone has to try to be a quirkless pro to prove anyone can be a hero. Someone has to give the quirkless people hope. He’s driven and determined, so why couldn’t he? He wouldn’t wish his abuse on his worst enemy, but he isn’t the only one who endures it.
He could become a beacon of hope for quirkless people everywhere.
//
Izuku smiles at Azrael with a newfound blaze of determination in his eyes. “Thank you, Azrael. I’m going to keep going.”
Azrael smiles again, spreading his wings and floating above the roof. “I wish you the best, young Izuku.”
“Will I remember this?”
The angel shakes his head. “Unfortunately, I wipe the memories of anyone who decides to live on. It will be painless and happen overnight, so you have nothing to worry about.”
Izuku nods, bidding a silent farewell as he walks to the door where his shoes are.
Azrael keeps his eyes on Izuku until the door closes. He then turns his gaze to a nearby roof. With a cheeky smirk, he nods to the shaggy-looking man assessing him, black hair and white scarf floating with glowing red eyes, before his own brown eyes stop glowing and he disappears into thin air.
//
Eighty years later, Azrael is pleasantly surprised when the seventh-ranked pro hero in Japan, the Void Hero: Deku, greets the angel by name in the Olympus Heroics Medical Facility, ready to cross over.