Chapter Text
It was over.
Everything was gone.
His teachers, his classmates, the heroes.
Everything and everyone was nothing but a memory now.
Dead. Slaughtered without mercy.
Highschool kids and people who were trying to do good.
He remembers the look on his teacher’s face as he died. A mix of regret and a gentle smile for he would never see them graduate, never see them become full-fledged heroes like he had promised to do. Blood leaked from his eyes where Shigaraki had ripped them apart.
Aizawa Shouta, hero name: Eraserhead, and Class 1A’s teacher bled out on that battlefield blind and hurting. Only Izuku and a couple others got to hear his final words.
Be strong, be brave. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there ‘till the end.
Tell everyone I’m sorry.
Izuku screamed and raged over this loss. Blinded by agony and such deep sadness he thought it would tear him apart from the inside out. He swore revenge for the loss of Aizawa.
He would never get that revenge.
Everyone would follow suit.
His classmates. God, how they fought to win the war. A war they never should’ve been a part of. A war they didn’t even know they would be part of. They were kids.
There was no mercy for children during war.
One by one, all of Izuku’s classmates were picked off. They all died on a cold, destroyed battlefield. Some of them cried for their parents in their last moments. Some even cried for their teacher. Izuku thought that he was dying with them. He tried to comfort them (the ones he could) as they went. Lullabies and soft spoken words of comfort or even a hug. He couldn’t be the people they called out for, but he could make their passing just a little more gentle.
There were so many heroes that had gone to fight. Their pained screams of agony as they were mercilessly killed and beaten had filled the air. Some of them, newer, bright-eyed heroes ready to show the world what they were made of. Others, older, more experienced heroes who had been expecting another tomorrow.
There would be no tomorrow.
They were all dead.
Izuku thought about all of this as he laid in a pool of his own blood. He was the last one. Shigaraki had run him through. He was sad when he realized that this was it. Unlike the others, Izuku would die alone. No one would hold his hand or sing him sweet songs as he went. It would just be him and his thoughts.
(He wants his mom).
The rage he felt was still present within him.
He wished he could go back. Be stronger, faster, smarter. He wished he could’ve protected his classmates and his teachers. He wished he had destroyed Shigaraki when he had had the chance.
Izuku Midoriya, Deku, raised his fist into the sky and gave one final, blood curdling scream of anguish and regret so loud it could be heard all the way up to the heavens. Heaving, he let his arm fall to the cold, hard ground once again.
(If only he had one more chance. He would protect them for sure).
His heart beat for the last time,
before white filled his vision, and he simply stopped being.