• by
  • Rating:
  • Published: 19 Aug 2017
  • Updated: 19 Aug 2017
  • Status: Complete
this sucks. bad


1. end my suffering

              Toshinori had seen this coming from a mile away.

              Well, not this given situation. Not by a longshot. But he always figured he'd die at the hands of a villain someday. Old age and dying peacefully in your sleep was not the end for people who chose the hero path. Not everyone can hope to retire, and even those that do get so lucky ran the risk of being targeted by a villain with a grudge. So, he wasn't too horribly surprised at being taken down by a villain.

                Though… Damn. It felt too soon.

                He took a deep, shuddering breath as he glared up at his captor from where he lay, arms bound, pressed sideway into the concrete of an abandoned building. He doubted anyone would come for him. He'd been running out of time during the rescue mission, so he'd called over Aizawa, who was busy overseeing the whole event and making sure there were no straggling villains to cause problems, and let him know of the situation. With his job at UA secured and school starting up next spring, Nezu had already informed the staff of Toshinori's… condition. He was lucky someone trustworthy had been there to tell, at the time. Now, though… Part of him wished he'd vanished without a word. Maybe then someone would come looking. Now? Aizawa probably wouldn't even let anyone go on a hunt for him. His security was working against him to a downright frustrating degree.

                "All Might."

                …Holy shit. Whoever this villain was, he sounded like a kid. Had he just been kidnapped by a child? Maybe there was hope. "Wh- All Might?" he asked, putting on his best look of bewilderment. If there was a slight chance this person hadn't seen his true form, and had only been informed, he had to run on it. It was looking to be his only way out at present. "Look, kid, my name's Yagi. I've got nothing to do with-"

                "Don't play dumb!"

                Okay. That was not the correct thing to say, clearly. His masked captor used his foot to shove Toshinori over, forcing him on his back. He felt his biceps twitch involuntarily from the strain of his body being on top of his arms, but he struggled to maintain some level of composure.

                Operative word being tried, considering the next course of action the kid took was pressing the heel of his boot into Toshinori's left side. He shouted out, unable to hold back a sharp sound in response to the pain, and erupted into a violent coughing fit, blood spewing from his mouth. He hacked and wheezed for what felt like centuries, desperately avoiding his blood steadily trickling into his trachea.

                This villain was different. That much was obvious. Think, Toshinori, think! His thoughts cleared up enough from the haze of agony for him to consider the facts. His voice sounds childish, youthful. Even a little familiar. Scratch that, very familiar. He definitely had met this kid before. And the kid clearly knew of his injury, as well as his identity as-


                Oh, god, no.

                "M…Midoriya? Wasn't that your name?" Toshinori breathed, and the weight of the shoe on his abdomen vanished. He almost sighed in relief, before a sharp kick to that same side was delivered, and Toshinori's vision blurred with stars and hazy black smudges. He dully registered a scream, and wondered why no idle onlooker had come to check out the noise. Stupid. The evacuation order. No one is anywhere near here. You're on your own, and out of time to boot!

                "I'm impressed you actually remembered me, you piece of crap." Izuku Midoriya wrenched off a white motorcycle helmet, his already wild hair mussed further than usual, and tossed it to the side. "I thought you'd forget all about the quirkless kid."

                God, as if.

                "No, of course not," he replied, shifting his shoulders to loosen some pressure on his arm. Izuku raised his leg again; a plain threat. "What's this about, Midoriya?"

                "This is about what you did to Kacchan!" He raised his foot up and stomped hard against the ground. God. That was so close. Izuku had come close enough to step on the loose white shirt he'd been wearing. He could literally feel Izuku's ankle through the cloth. He could have broken a rib. I might have died.

                "Kacchan? Who the hell-?"

                Izuku cut him off again. He really needed to stop doing that. The boy leaned down and balled his white shirt in his fist, dragging Toshinori upright. His side protested, but he didn't have much of a choice, did he? "My only friend! I looked up to him! He was going to be a great hero! And you let him die!" Izuku punctuated his furious remarks by shaking him. Toshinori's sunken eyes widened.

                "You mean… The boy in the sludge villain attack?"

                "Who else?!"

                "Midoriya, listen, there's nothing I could have done. I don't understand why you're focusing your anger on me when it belongs the bastard that killed him." His calm words and gentle tone only served to further incense the boy, if his tightened grip and shaking hands meant anything. He didn't butt in, though, so he might have been making a break through. It was worth a shot to continue. "Take that hero notebook and put it to good use. You're brilliant! Even if you can't be a hero, you-"

                Toshinori felt the change in atmosphere, saw the shift in those wild green eyes, before he felt it, and all that registered was an unspoken, 'oh crap' as Izuku proceeded to slam the back of his head against the concrete floor. "You keep saying that! I can't be a hero? Why? Because I'm quirkless?! What good is a quirk when even people like you who are lucky enough to be blessed with a quirk can't even use it to save people? You stood there and watched him die! You let Kacchan die!"

                Toshinori braced for another impact, but this one came much lighter. His head knocked against the floor as Izuku dropped his grip and reached to the pocket of his nondescript clothing. The garb any quirkless criminal would wear; almost unrecognizable. Toshinori's heart stopped, though, when this shaking boy pulled out a switchblade.

                With a cold, mechanical click, the knife point flicked out of hiding. He watched, almost numb, as Izuku straddled his abdomen, knee pressing dangerously against his side, and raised the knife.

                His life flashed before his eyes, just like everyone says it does. He saw himself in so many disjointed scenes; playing in the sandbox, stomping puddles in the rain, meeting Shimura, training with Gran Torino, Shimura's death, Toxic Chainsaw, All For One, so many inconsequential villains and events, friendships made and lost, deaths and rebirths, new heroes showing up, old heroes retiring or otherwise dying in service, and it all led up to this one moment.

                "So, no, I don’t think you can be a hero without a quirk."

                Maybe he was asking for this all along. The glint of the knife seemed to hover in place, and Toshinori couldn't help but wonder how long this horrible dream would last and when he'd be met with oblivion. At first, he assumed his fear was playing tricks, that imminent death was skewing his perception of time. Then, he noticed the shaking. Then the whimper, the tears, and the clatter of a knife dropping to the ground.

                "I…I can't do it. I can't. I'm so, so sorry Kacchan, I just…" Izuku hiccupped, a pitiful, tearful noise that hurt Toshinori somewhere deep in his chest. "I can't. I don't want anyone to die. I don't. I'm… I'm sorry, All Might, I'm sorry…"

                Izuku, tears spilling in wide rivulets over his cheeks, shakily reached beneath Toshinori and undid the bindings. Toshinori moved his arms slowly from beneath him, rotating his shoulders and squeezing clenched fists. Least he wasn't feeling particularly numb. There probably wasn't any lasting damage there, though he ought to get his side looked at soon. His gastroenterologist would kill him if Izuku didn't. But Izuku didn't reach for the knife, or wrap his fingers around his throat. He only sat and cried, though he seemed to abruptly realize he still was seated atop Toshinori. He scrambled to his feet and stumbled backward, a choked sob escaping his throat, and he landed on the floor.

                He looked so horribly, horribly heartbroken.

                And damn if Toshinori didn't feel it was all his fault.

                On instinct, ignoring the pressing pain in his side, he sat up and moved toward Izuku, wrapping bony arms around him in a tight hug. Izuku jerked and whimpered, hands going for the knife with a wild fervor, but Toshinori hushed him and patted that mass of curly, dark green hair. It really was a tangled disaster. "It's okay. It's okay. I'm sorry. It really is my fault. I take the blame. You're a very good boy, Midoriya. A talented, intelligent boy with so much potential. Why do you waste yourself like this?"

                Izuku froze, even his shuddering seeming to halt, and suddenly, Toshinori found his arms were empty, and Izuku had scampered halfway across the room, illuminated by the sunshine just outside the broken doorway. "Turn me in or don't. I don't care." He scowled, balling his hand into a fist and pulling the motorcycle helmet back over his head. When had he gotten that back? Did I black out for a sec? "Just… Keep Inko Midoriya out of it. Promise."

                Inko. A cousin? A sibling? His mother? "…To the best of my ability."

                Just like that, the boy was gone.

                And honestly, Toshinori wondered if he'd have preferred a knife to his heart than to be left alone with those horrible thoughts Izuku Midoriya had planted into his head.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...