Chapter Text
The room was dimly lit by request of the weeping mother. Silence filled by the beeping of the machine’s keeping her sweetheart alive. All seats out in the hallways were filled, gloomy expressions darkening the bright white walls.
A mere kid laid in the hospital bed, his injuries extreme and life-ending. The tubes and wires hanging onto him were the only source of life for the young boy. His green curls laid flat to his face, dull with the lack of life in his body.
Whispers that tried to reach him fell on sleeping ears, or rather, ear.
“What happened,” The mother cried, clinging onto the heroes filling the halls, “My baby!”
“Inko-”
“No,” She pushed away the tall blond man, “You were supposed to keep him safe! My boy,” Her screams echoed in the sterile halls, “My sweet Izuku, it wasn’t supposed to end like this-”
The rabbit hero laid a comforting hand on the mother’s shoulder, “Inko, I am so terribly sorry,” Her tone was softer than most would ever hear of her, “I was too slow.”
The door of his room opened, Recovery Girl looking smaller than she actually was appearing from it, “He will die,” She announced to all waiting for him, “My quirk is not enough to heal the extensive injuries he has obtained.”
The cries of the mother worsened as the room kept quiet evermore.
“I am so incredibly sorry,” Recovery girl apologized, “Izuku was a brave and incredible boy.”
“We have to tell them,” Hawks sat in the corner, his head in his hands, “They deserve to know.”
Yagi frowned through his tears, “They have had no contact for a year, is it right for us to open the wound anew?”
“Izuku loves them,” Inko’s voice was hoarse and slight, “Let him say goodbye.”
~~~
The boy’s eyes were open, if just slightly, his gaze not all there. But he was awake for the moment, a precious period of time. The words he had said already were so very soft and at peace. Surprised at the fact he was still alive, almost glad to hear he would not survive.
He was the calm in the rocky sea, the pillar of support in the tragedy of his death. His mother a weeping reminder on who he would leave.
The door opened, it flooded the room with light, in the doorway stood his teacher of two lifetimes. A man Izuku had trusted and yet also not, “Kid,” Aizawa’s voice was so very fragile, “Oh, kid.”
“Hey,” Izuku smiled weakly, “Whaddup, old man?”
“You’re dying, Izuku,” His voice shook.
Izuku rolled his eyes, “Thank you for the update,” But he quieted when he noticed the shaking shoulders of the man, “It’s fine,” He tried to calm the hero’s feelings, “I’m fine with dying.”
Aizawa closed the gap between him and the bed a bit, his face not blinded by the light of the hallway anymore, “It isn’t alright, kid,” He almost whispered.
The boy hummed, “You know, I never thought I would survive till eighteen-”
“You’re not eighteen,” Aizawa interrupted him, “You’re barely seventeen years old, Izuku, you’re a kid.”
“But I have been eighteen,” Izuku laid back comfortably, snuggling into the cushions, not minding the tubes that kept him alive, “I have been twenty-three, even. And I’ve been back since, what? Age ten? So you could say I’m thirty!” He grinned.
The attempt at humour fell flat, “They need you.”
Silence overtook the boy, finally something that had been said impacted him. The jolly attitude he had since he had awoken, was finally shaken.
“They don’t,” The smile was missing.
But Aizawa did not let the shift of mood affect him, “They do. They miss your texts, they remember you when things get hard or funny. They seek your presence in the dorms, begging for the vestiges to haunt them again. Izuku, you are a part of their lives-”
“What do you want me to do?” Izuku’s tone was full of venom, “Stop dying?”
“I am asking you to fight, Izuku,” The teacher sat down on the chair next to his bed, “Actually fight.”
The venom in the boy’s face faded away at the words, calm returned, “I’m tired of fighting.”
“Kid-”
“They will be okay,” Izuku took Aizawa’s hand, his smile returned even if tears started rolling down his pale cheeks, “They are strong, so much stronger than I have ever been.”
The other man shook his head, “Don’t downplay yourself like that-”
“No, it’s true,” He interrupted the teacher again, “I’m tired. So so tired,” Izuku looked away, his eyes on the ceiling, “I can’t handle seeing their faces, they’re not the people I grew up with. None of them remember our hurt and our war. And I am so glad for that, but it is agony.”
“Izuku-”
“So please, Aizawa,” He looked back at the man, “Let me die and join them.”
~~~
At the end of his life, he got plenty of visits. Most of them he was not awake for, his body failing even with the support of machines and quirks. He was weakened and drowning in the void with the vestiges was so much easier than staying awake.
Izuku missed visits of heroes, his mother, teachers and strangers he had saved before.
When his mother shook him awake, careful but insistent, he barely could muster up a hello to the group of teenagers standing at his bedside. Faces pale and tear-stained. They didn’t know him, he knew that, and yet they were so very sad at his demise. It was heartwarming if not somewhat sad. He was leaving them behind. And that was not a thought he liked to entertain, but even their faces, blurred with his weakness, awoke a feeling of pure grief in his stomach.
“Izuku,” Sweet Shouto was the one that came close, his hands grabbing one of his.
It hurt to stay awake, it hurt to talk and breathe but his Shouto called for him, “Heyyo,” He croacked.
“No,” His voice was thick with tears, “Why are you here?” Shouto’s grip tightened, “Izuku, what happened?”
At the end of the bed, someone choked on tears but Izuku had so little energy, he could not muster up to look up, “I’m sorry,” He tried to smile but he was tired, “I lost, it seems.”
Shouto brought Izuku’s hand to his face, closing his eyes, “Survive, Izuku, you have to live-”
“My Shouto,” Izuku’s voice broke, “In yet another timeline we can grow old together, but now-”
“Izuku,” The boy begged, “No-”
“In this time,” Izuku mustered up the strength to squeeze his Shouto’s hand, “I’ll have to leave you first, this time.”
Panic overtook Shouto, “What are you talking about, Izuku, you can't leave me-”
But all of it faded as Izuku’s gaze fell upon the vestiges at the other side of the bed, their eyes kind but mournful. Nana offered her hand, “It’s time to go, my dear.”
Ah, so it was. He was glad he saw their faces one last time. They would move on, Izuku was sure of it. And he, he was finally free. Evil defeated and peace restored.
Izuku couldn’t be happier.