Work Text:
Toshinori stood in the kitchen, staring blankly at the open refrigerator.
The cool air wafted out, mingling with the warmth of the afternoon sun that streamed through the window. He frowned, trying to remember why he had come to the kitchen in the first place.
He’d needed… something to drink. What had it been? Water? No. He wouldn’t have gone to the fridge for that. He’d wanted to drink…
“Milk,” he murmured to himself. “I was looking for milk. Of course.”
He scanned the top refrigerator shelf, and couldn't find the milk.
He scanned the middle refrigerator shelf, and couldn't find the milk.
He scanned the bottom refrigerator shelf, and couldn't find the milk.
He scanned the top refrigerator shelf, and couldn't find the milk.
He scanned the middle refrigerator shelf, and couldn’t- Wait. No. He’d already checked. Why was he scanning for a second time?
With a sigh, he closed the door and rubbed his temples. This wasn't the first time he had found himself forgetting small things, but they’d never actually impacted his day-to-day life just yet. He’d forget to get back to an email, or to check for any mail outside, but those could be easily rectified. Finding the milk, on the other hand? He had no clue.
“Did I already use it?” he wondered aloud, opening the fridge yet again and letting his eyes dart over the various items inside. There were leftovers from last night's dinner (he really ought to thank Young Uraraka for the recipe), a few vegetables, and a carton of eggs. No milk.
His brow furrowed as he tried to piece together his morning. “Did I drink it? Did I put it somewhere else?” He looked around the kitchen, half expecting to find the carton sitting on the counter or misplaced in a cabinet.
The minutes ticked by as he checked the pantry, the countertops, and even the microwave. He felt a growing sense of frustration and confusion. Why was it so difficult to find something as simple as milk? It should be right where he left it!
And more importantly… why did he need milk in the first place?
“Think, Toshinori, think,” he whispered to himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He tried to recall his thoughts from just a few moments ago. Had he been making tea? Cereal? Nothing seemed to click.
His eyes fell on the coffee maker, and he snapped his fingers as it fell into place. “Coffee! I needed milk for my coffee!”
But when he approached the machine, he saw a steaming cup of light brown coffee already sitting there, untouched.
He’d already made the coffee. Of course he had.
So why didn’t he remember it?
He’d known he was getting absent-minded recently, but making a whole cup of coffee only to forget doing it… that was something else.
As he stood there, lost in thought, a gentle knock came at the door. Toshinori blinked, momentarily disoriented. He glanced at the clock and felt a pang of anxiety. Was he expecting someone? He hadn’t made any plans-
Oh. It was one o’clock, on a Sunday.
“Izuku,” he murmured, his expression softening. Despite the haze of confusion, a warm feeling spread through his chest. Izuku still came to visit him every week, in spite of how long it had been. For a moment, Toshinori felt a little lighter.
He walked over to the door, his steps steadier now, and opened it to find his boy standing there, a bright smile on his face as always. “Hi, All Might.”
Toshinori met him with an equally bright smile… he hoped. He thought Izuku may have picked up on his worries, but he supposed he could distract him from it. “Twenty years, Young Izuku, and you still can’t call me Toshinori,” he lightheartedly ribbed.
“Twenty years and you still call me ‘young’ Izuku,” his boy retorted. He let out a chuckle, stepping aside to let Izuku in through the porch.
Izuku wandered into the house, pulling a bag of nacho chips from his bag and setting them on the countertop.
“Tea or coffee?” Toshinori asked. Izuku shook his head.
“I’m alright.” Toshinori had offered this to Izuku every week. He so rarely accepted, but he still made it a point to ask every single time.
As they both sat on the pair of sofas, facing each other, Izuku seemingly noticed the slightly troubled look on Toshinori’s face. “Is everything alright? You seem a bit… distracted.”
Toshinori hesitated. He didn’t want to worry his boy (the fact Izuku was in his mid-thirties meant nothing to him), but he supposed he deserved to know something like this, after all they’d been through together. He nodded slowly. “Yes, yes, everything is fine, I just… forgot you were coming today. To be honest, that’s been happening a lot lately.”
Izuku's face softened. “That's okay, All Might. Everyone forgets things sometimes. Maybe you're just tired?”
Toshinori sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Perhaps. But it's not just tiny things. I made a whole cup of coffee before you arrived, and then I forgot that I’d made it. I still haven’t watched that new movie Young Shinso recommended to me. I really need to clean out my sink, but I keep forgetting to do it. It's like... things are slipping away in my mind, and I can't hold onto them. I just feel so useless , you know?”
Izuku leant over and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve done so much for all of us. I’m not going to let you go through this alone,” he whispered.
Toshinori felt a lump form in his throat, and smiled at his boy. But naturally, he changed the topic from there. He didn’t want his talk with Izuku to be so depressing, after all. This time of the week was always his favourite.
Izuku went on to tell him all about what he’d gotten up to recently. Being the Symbol of Hope somehow seemed even more active than his own tenure as the Symbol of Peace. He didn’t know how his boy kept up with it all.
As the hours wore on, it soon became time for Izuku to go home. As he slung his bag over his arm, he gave Toshinori a hug, before asking “have you got any plans for this week?”
Izuku asked that every week. He always seemed so invested in what his old man was doing, but truthfully Toshinori didn’t think there was much to do this week, so he noncommittally shrugged and told Izuku that he’d let him know if anything came up. Izuku stared at him for a couple seconds, nodded, and said goodbye.
That was odd.
*
Toshinori had forgotten to take the bins out. Great.
It had been four days since Izuku’s last visit, and he didn’t want to admit to his boy that his memory issues were only becoming more frequent. He supposed it made sense. He was getting old, after all. Despite that, though, he wondered if Izuku would want to come over again. He didn’t really have anyone else to talk to, these days.
He shot Izuku a text message, inviting him round, before setting the phone down and waiting. Minutes passed, and there was no reply. Izuku always got back to him as fast as possible, come hell or high water. He frowned, trying to push away the creeping worry in his mind.
After an hour with no response, Toshinori's unease grew to the point where he sent another message.
Toshinori stood up and began pacing the room, his mind racing with possibilities. Had something happened to Izuku? Was he in trouble? He shook his head, trying to calm himself. Izuku was a capable hero, and he had plenty of support from his friends and teachers.
“He's probably just caught up in hero work,” Toshinori muttered to himself, though the explanation did little to ease his worry. Izuku had never taken this long to get back to him before; he’d found out once, much to Izuku’s embarrassment, that his boy had a special ringtone specifically for his messages.
He spent the next few hours trying to distract himself with various tasks around the house, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Izuku. He checked his phone repeatedly, each time feeling a fresh wave of disappointment when there was no new message.
By the time afternoon rolled around, Toshinori decided sitting around and waiting for a reply wouldn’t do him any good. He put on his leather coat (a gift from Inko last Christmas), figuring he’d go for a walk. Anything to get his mind off Izuku’s lack of response.
Knock knock.
Toshinori dutifully headed to the front door. Had he ordered anything recently? He didn’t remember doing so, but even so he swung the door open, only to see-
Izuku.
Toshinori's worry melted away, replaced by relief (and brief, short-lived irritation). “Izuku, are you alright? I’ve been sending you messages all day.”
Izuku's eyes widened. “Oh no, I’m so sorry! I must have missed them. I was busy preparing something and didn't check my phone and it was really busy and-”
It’s safe to say he never quite grew out of his mumblestorms.
Toshinori sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders. "It's alright, young Midoriya. Just had me a bit concerned, that's all."
Izuku looked so remorseful. “I really am sorry. I was going to head over to UA to talk with Tenya about the licence exams for next year, but I figured you could come with me. He’d like to see you.”
Toshinori’s heart felt warm. “Alright, let's go.”
As they walked to UA, Toshinori couldn't help but notice Izuku's excitement. He seemed more animated than usual, a subtle spring in his step much like he’d had back in the day. Toshinori smiled, glad to see his kid in such high spirits.
They arrived, and Toshinori expected them to head to the principal's office to meet Young Iida. However, Izuku took a different route, leading them towards the gym.
“Young Izuku, are you quite sure we're heading the right way?” Toshinori asked, a hint of confusion in his voice. What was his kid doing?
Izuku nodded enthusiastically. “Trust me, All Might. Just a slight change of plans. I promise it’ll be worth it.”
Toshinori raised an eyebrow but followed without further question. As they approached the gym, Toshinori noticed that it was unusually quiet and dark inside. He hesitated at the entrance, unsure of what to expect.
“Young Izuku, why are we here?” he asked, his confusion growing.
Izuku simply smiled and opened the door, gesturing for Toshinori to step inside. “You'll see. Go ahead.”
Reluctantly, Toshinori walked into the darkened gym, his eyes struggling to adjust to the lack of light. He took a few cautious steps forward, the silence almost eerie. He was about to ask Izuku if this was some elaborate prank, but then-
Before he could say anything else, the lights flicked on, and a chorus of voices shouted, “Surprise!”
Toshinori blinked in astonishment as the gym came to life. It was decorated with colourful banners, balloons, LED lights, and far more. A huge banner dangled over his head - he craned his head to read it.
Happy birthday, All Might!
… Oh.
He’d forgotten that too.
Walking out from the corners of the gym, he saw an array of familiar faces. His former students, fellow heroes, and friends had all gathered, their smiles beaming with affection and gratitude. Young Bakugo, Young Todoroki, all of his former class, even Aizawa who he hadn’t seen in years.
Toshinori stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock and joy. He turned to look at Izuku, who was now grinning from ear to ear.
“We wanted to do something special for you, All Might,” Izuku said, stepping forward, “to show you how much you mean to all of us… even if you forgot your birthday, we didn’t."
Toshinori's eyes glistened with tears as he looked into Izuku’s eyes. He was overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support. “Thank you, my boy. This... this means more to me than you could ever know.”
The crowd erupted in applause, and the party officially began. Toshinori moved through the sea of people, receiving hugs, handshakes, and heartfelt thanks from everyone he encountered. The worries and fears about his fading memories seemed distant now, replaced by the warmth and joy of the celebration.
As the evening wore on, Toshinori found himself surrounded by laughter, stories, and cherished memories. He couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the people in his life. The love and support they showed him were a powerful reminder that he was not alone, that he hadn’t given so much for all these people just for the favour to be unreturned.
His amazing boy watched from the sidelines, his heart evidently swelling with pride as he smiled at Toshinori once again.
For that evening, all worries were set aside as everyone celebrated the legacy of All Might, the Symbol of Peace, and the man who had touched so many lives. After all, his memory may have been leaving him behind, and he may have lived a mostly solitary life for his whole hero career.
And yet he hadn’t been alone for over twenty years.