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Izuku was numb.
It was the kind of numbness he was pretty sure came before too many emotions all at once, and he dreaded when they did come, because he was sure the flood would break him.
All Might was gone.
It wasn’t violent, it wasn’t heroic, it wasn’t exciting. It wasn’t what so many would consider a ‘heroic death’, it was a normal, peaceful passing in the comfort of his own home, after a long day doing what he loved.
It wasn’t unexpected, but it was at the same time. All Might was old for a hero, and had been struggling with the repercussions of his choice of career for over a decade, through having only part of a digestive system and less than a full set of lungs. Izuku had known, on some level, that one day, probably sooner rather than later, All Might would die, and that it would be devastating, but he hadn’t expected it today.
It had been such a normal, uneventful day. He had done paperwork, gone on patrol, hung out with Ochako and Tsuyu, and talked about their plans for a school reunion, about who would and wouldn’t end up being there, and which teachers would make the time to show up.
When he had gotten home, Tsukauchi-san had been waiting just outside his door, eyes red and hat pressed to his chest, and he had been told the news, and suddenly all of that felt a million miles away, like it had happened a lifetime ago, and not just a single train ride ago.
After that he had been alone in his apartment, surrounded by posters of his friends and heroes, staring blankly at the poster he had had over his bed since he was seven years old; All Might in his silver age costume, posing triumphantly.
Izuku was numb, and then suddenly he was doubled over, and his apartment echoed with his wailing sobs.
The next few weeks were a whirlwind of legalese and mourning, and Izuku knew on some level that he had been involved, and that he was in All Might’s will and had made a speech at his memorial service, but it was all through a haze of numbness, that initial outburst of emotions held off while he dealt with the bureaucracy of death.
It wasn’t until over a month after All Might’s death, when the media frenzy had died down and everyone had started to move on with their lives, that he found it.
He had felt the sudden urge to deep clean his entire apartment, and found the letter in a pile of things he still needed to sort through in regards to All Might’s final wishes and other stupid bureaucracy he really didn’t have the emotional capacity for when they arrived. It was buried about halfway down, and on much nicer paper than anything else in the pile, and covered with silly children’s All Might stickers, one slightly peeling on one of the hair spikes.
When he saw the familiar shaky handwriting and unbroken seal, he stopped, took a deep breath, and placed it on his kitchen counter. He would deal with it once he was done cleaning.
When he eventually sat down, when his apartment was the cleanest it had been since he moved in, he placed the letter down in front of him on the coffee table, staring at it like it might bite him, might burst into flames, might break him.
He picked it up, and ripped it open along the top. Two small, folded pages fell out onto the table, he picked them up, straightened them, took a breath, and began to read.
—
Dear Izuku,
I hope this letter never finds you, but I find myself feeling the need to write some things down just in case.
If this letter has found you, it’ll either seem like a slightly tasteless prank, or I’ll be dead. If it’s the former, then don’t worry about this. Just read it, and then come over for tea, and we can laugh about it. If it’s the latter, then please read this, and know that I mean every word.
Izuku, thank you. You changed the trajectory of my life when you gripped onto me all those years ago, and have taken me through some of the most incredible and anxiety-inducing moments of my life.
I have watched you grow into the young man I so nearly didn’t encourage, and become a hero both you and everyone around you can be proud of.
I know that, especially at the start, I put you under a lot of pressure, however unintentional. If I could change anything, it would be the weight of the burden I put on you in those first few months, and I regret how that shaped a time of your life that should have been about learning, and instead was about survival.
You helped me find a new motivation to keep going, to get healthy, as much as I can, and to live to see the future both you and I have helped to build, and it has given me so many experiences I never would have had, and for that I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
I must though, my boy, apologise too. If it had not been for me, you never would have suffered so much pain and hardship at such a young age. I know it’s the hobby of the old to focus too much on the ‘what if’s, but I can’t help wondering if you would have been better off without me.
I know that you don’t see it that way, you fanboy, but you were so young, and I put you through so much, and so I hope you’ll let me have this one regret, and apologise one last time, even if you don’t feel like you need it. I feel like it needs to be said, so I’m saying it.
I know I don’t have much life left in me, and you know it too, and it’s only thanks to you that that fact feels less like a relief than it used to, and know, my boy, that you have been like the son I never had, and that when I’m gone, I will miss you, and can only hope that you’ll remember me with as many good memories as I remember you. I am going much earlier than I would have liked to, and couldn’t say one final goodbye in person, so I will do it here instead.
I love you, my boy, and goodbye.
You are my No.1 hero, and I am more proud of you than I could ever put into words, so this letter will have to do.
If I am gone, then I’m so sorry, but I’ll be going onto the next big thing, and can only hope that it will be a long, long time until I see you again.
I am not here, but you still are, and that is all I can ask.
All Might,
Yagi Toshinori.
—
The whole time he was reading, Izuku felt a lump grow and grow in his throat, but he forced it down, forced it to wait until he was done, until he knew all of what All Might had to say.
When he was finished, Izuku felt the lump spill over, and he curled up on his sofa, overly conscious of the letter still in his hands, making sure not to clench his hands even though he felt like every muscle in his body wanted to curl up and make him disappear, just for a moment, just until the weight of all this pain wasn’t so hard to bear, and he could go back to being a person and not just one big collection of hurt.
He didn’t know how long he sat there like that, whole body tense except for his arms, before he caught his breath again, and put the letter down on the table, only slightly crumpled, but the light had changed and was now spilling golden yellow through the windows, bathing everything in sunset.
He stared at the words on the page, all of them registering too much, too close to his heart, until the setting sun slipped below the horizon and bathed the room in darkness, the words now just a smudge on the page in the darkness of the room.
He knew he needed to get up, to move, to drink some water to stave off the headache he could feel brewing behind his eyes, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
Comfort could wait. Being okay could wait.
All Might was gone, and so was the closest thing to a father he had ever had.