Chapter Text
It was as though he had fallen off the face of the earth. Izuku wasn’t sure who was to blame, his work, his social desires, or his old friends. His life was mostly what he had wanted, he had been the #1 hero in Japan for almost four years straight. It was almost comical, he had gotten exactly what he and Katsuki had been striving for, and yet his life felt void of accomplishment. It had been meaningless, the congratulations and the news interviews meant nothing. He had basically been guaranteed this spot when the war ended during his time at UA. Delivering the final blow to Shigaraki had won him favor with the general public and the rest of hero society. He had saved everyone and stopped the League, and yet there was still one person he felt as though he had failed. Even though Katuski hadn’t seemed upset with the ending of the war, he had found himself growing further and further from him. Their final year at UA had ended with them barely speaking once a week. Izuku had felt abandoned, but he had seen it coming years ago. The final nail in the coffin came when he accidentally called Kacchan “Bakugou” at their graduation. He had looked at him with some expression of betrayal, and turned to walk away from him. They hadn’t spoken since. That was okay though, Izuku had moved on, he was an adult and had moved past his dumb highschool crush on Kacchan. He hoped.
He slid his hand down his face. It was wednesday, his day off, which he typically spent doing household chores, meal prepping, and then drinking himself to sleep. Honestly, these days were his favorite. He grabbed his phone off of his nightstand and squinted at the screen as it illuminated his dark room. It was already noon, he sighed and rubbed his eyes. July 15th, a day like any other. Except it wasn’t really, he had received a message from his PR manager, and his current interns, and usually he’d get a heartfelt message from Toshinori about how much he missed him and wished him well. Except today he had only received the first two. Figures, every year it felt like he lost someone else. To his own fault, and no one else. It was Izuku who took days or weeks to respond, if he did at all. He never answered non-work related calls, and he never checked social media. He’d officially done it this time though, losing All-Might was like a final blow. He was 24, and completely alone.
He made his way through the dark to his dresser pulling out a clean shirt to wear. It was one of his favorites, a soft worn t-shirt that said “t-shirt” on it. That was one thing he didn’t think he would ever outgrow, wearing a goofy shirt that made him feel some form of content. Izuku grabbed his laundry off the chair in the corner and made his way to his laundry room. After starting the first load he sat down on the couch and stared at the black TV. Right, Breakfast. He slumped over instead and curled up, ready to pass out again. This was often how Wednesday’s went, he had prospects of being productive but the exhaustion always hit the second he let himself relax.
Izuku woke up to an unfamiliar noise, banging from somewhere in his apartment. He grumbled and reached out for the TV remote without opening his eyes. When he couldn’t find it, he caved and blinked his eyes open slowly. Fuck. It was dark again? He then realized that the TV wasn’t actually on. He felt the hair on his arms stand up. Danger sense wasn’t activated, so he knew it wasn’t a direct threat but he was still on edge. Rising from the couch slowly he looked around attempting to identify the source of the foreign noise. Then it clicked- the door. Someone was knocking on his door. Shit, Maybe he really was losing it. But also, who the fuck was at the door? And why?
Through the peephole Izuku can see that it’s detective Tsukauchi, but he has no clue as to why. He clicks open the lock and pulls the door open to be met with a grim expression.
“Uh… Detective Tsukauichi? Good to see you?” Izuku steps to the side and allows the man to enter.
“Deku” He nods at Izuku and presses on into his apartment, he surveys the open living space and gestures for Izuku to sit at the dining table.
“What’s going on?” Izuku questions him as he takes a seat at his own dining table while the detective sits across from him. Tsukauchi pulls out a manilla envelope and sets it down on the table carefully.
Tsukauchi sighs and closes his eyes momentarily “It’s… Not easy to handle these sort of situations. Especially when it deals with personal matters.”
He pulls open the envelope and slides out a letter and a copy of a… legal document?
“Toshinori wanted me to find you first, regarding the circumstances, I had to at least accommodate his final wishes. This-” He gestures to the sealed letter, “Is a letter he left for you, and that is a copy of his last will and wishes.”
Izuku’s mind goes white.
He assumes Tsukauchi leaves, because he can’t actually remember him leaving.
Izuku felt… Nothing. All-might couldn't just die like that. He hadn’t seen him in four years. There was no way he died before Izuku saw him again. He shivered and reached for his phone.
No notifications, as per usual. Surely if All-Might had really died then someone, anyone would have reached out to him? At least to let him know, right? None of this was real, he decided.
The loud singing of the washing machine brought him out of his daze, he rose from his chair to continue about his day. That had to have been some hallucination right? All-Might wasn’t dead and Tsukauchi hadn’t actually come to his apartment.
Throughout the next few hours Izuku’s eyes lingered on the envelope still sitting untouched on the kitchen table. Surely, if he opened the letter he would find anything but Toshinori’s messy scrawl. He’d see that it wasn’t actually from him- because none of this was real, right?
As the night went on, his curiosity began to eat at him. He knew he was going to lose this battle with himself, he couldn’t just ignore the letter. Pacing the living room with the letter half ripped open in his left hand he found himself losing his patience. Finally, he tore the letter open the rest of the way and began to read.
“Young Midoriya,
If you are reading this I’m afraid it may be too late. I’m sure this news is no surprise, you know my health has been declining over the last few years. I wasn’t sure how to reach out to you, or of the proper ways to do this. I hope you aren’t too upset my boy, this was bound to happen soon.
I want you to know that I am so grateful to have been a part of your journey, and to have watched you grow up. I know we are not related by blood but you and Young Bakugo were like sons to me. You were the best successor of my power and legacy that I could have chosen and I hope you carry on the torch for years to come.
However, as long as you bear the burden of this power I hope you find ways to live a fulfilling life. There are challenges to being a symbol for society, a driving force that stops evil just by existing, but you cannot sustain this image if you are not working to sustain yourself.
Midoriya, I may be old, but I am not blind. You need to let people care about you. You will understand one day what I mean, but right now I’m sure it hurts more than it should. Do not become angry with yourself, but rather take this as a time to learn and grow even more. That is all I ever wished for you my boy. I want you to be successful and happy with yourself.
Continue to save people with a smile on your face young man, and know that I am always here with you.
Love,
Toshinori."
His breath caught in his throat. His mouth felt as though he hadn’t had a sip of water in months, fuck. Fuck. He was going to be sick. As he made a run for the bathroom, he dropped the letter on the ground.
Even in death All-Might had succeeded in making Izuku feel guilty. God he was such a shitty person, through the last four years all he could focus on was his dumb self-pity and his stupid career. How had he let so much time pass? How had he abandoned someone who he considered family?
Fuck. This was all too much. Izuku didn’t even deserve to feel guilty, or sad. He deserves this. No matter which way you look at it, he’s the one who built up the walls against the people he loved. He was unlovable- undeserving of it.
As he continued to empty stomach acid into the toilet bowl, he felt the tears burning his eyes. He couldn’t tell if the tears were from the pain of the vomit or the letter but he didn’t care to know. The pain of this would eat him alive.
Izuku spent that night semi-conscious drowning himself in a bottle.