Work Text:
When he opens the door, it's hell.
Izuku can't even process what he's seeing. Men standing near the window, the snow making them look unreal. The light blue haired man has a golf club in his hand–
And he swings–
And–
And–
He runs in with his gun raised before he's immediately tackled to the ground. He gets a good punch in, not even seeing , before he's pinned to the ground, kicking and screaming.
"Get off me!" His voice is guttural and raw. "Get the fuck off me!"
Naomasa is lying unconscious on the ground. Oh God, his head is covered in blood.
A hard kick to his stomach. He barely feels it.
Izuku can't fucking breathe.
He sees Toshinori, lying prone on the ground. Completely covered in blood. His eyes are so swollen it doesn't look like he can open them. God, he's already so fucking damaged. How could he let this happen?
He was busy messing around with Shoto while Toshinori was getting beaten. What the fuck is wrong with him?!
A primal scream releases from his lips. He can only imagine the view he is. "You're gonna fucking die!"
A man with burn scars walks in, demanding to know what's going on.
"Let him go."
"Who is that?"
"Let him go!"
The man pinning him down answers.
"He snuck in."
"Why aren't you posted up outside?"
"We didn't think anyone was going to show up!"
His eyes are trained on Toshinori.
"The hell did you expect?! We gotta get out of here before the whole towns on top of us."
The man with the burn scars walks over to the man whos standing above—
The man with the pale blue hair.
"You're done."
Golf guy seethes, stepping closer.
"You want what I want, right?"
"End it. Now."
They stare at each other for a few more moments, before stepping back.
Izuku is panting, desperation bleeding from every pore. "Toshinori, get up."
Toshinori can't even open his eyes, he's so swollen from the beating. His blonde hair – having gone slightly grayer in the last few years – is matted with blood. He's barely breathing.
"Toshinori, fucking get up!"
Izuku looks up to the strangers, pleading, begging.
"Please stop! Please don't do this!" Sobs break his words apart.
Golf guy doesn't even turn to look at him. His eyes are trained on Toshinori, Golf club raised. He starts to swing–
No—
"Toshinori, please get up!"
When the club hits, his whole world drains of color.
" No!"
He can't breathe. He can't see. This isn't real, it can't be.
Sobs break from his chest as he watches Toshinori's face get caved in– watches his breaths stop–
His ears are ringing– he can't hear --Toshinori—
"I'll fucking kill you!"
He can vaguely comprehend what's happening; a man with curly brown hair aiming a gun at him and then being held back. He can't hear them.
"No…"
Toshinori isn't moving– get up–
He can't feel anything except burning rage. This can't be happening.
"I'll fucking kill you!"
Toshinori–
He—
Izuku memorizes the face of the man with the golf club. Pale blue hair, red eyes. Cracked skin.
That's all he can do before he feels a smack to the head, and his world blacks out.
—---
"Izuku!"
Muffled voice. Nothingness. Floating.
"Oh my god. Izuku?"
The world comes back in startling focus. Shoto, leaning over him.
"Izuku?"
Shoto looks devastated– Shoto never looks devastated.
"I'm sorry."
Shoto stands up and starts to move away. Izuku, despite no longer being pinned down, can't move.
"Hanta! They're down here!"
Shoto's voice fades to white noise.
Izuku feels tears trail across his likely broken nose and onto the floor.
Toshinori is dead.
"Toshinori… no…"
Nothing he says matters here. He wasn't fast enough to stop him.
Nothing matters.
"You are not my son. And I sure as hell ain't your dad."
"Izuku! It's me!"
"I got you, my boy. I've got you."
The sound of a guitar string echoing. Our future days.
"If the lord somehow gave me another chance, I would do it all over again."
Toshinori–
When Hanta and Shoto and Tenya and Ochacho cover Toshinori with the sheet–
Izuku breathes out, and his purpose in life follows it out on the exhale.