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The breeze blew through the field, causing the flowers and flowing hills of grain to dance in the sunlight. The smell of fresh ground and summer floated on the air as the boy huffed out a sigh.
He sat tucked underneath a tree while gazing into the pond beside him, running his finger along the surface. His reflection looked just as bored and apathetic as he felt. This place was magical. Peaceful. It was literally meant to be a place for souls to relax in peace before they pass on. But when you’ve been there for as long as Izuku had, it gets old fast.
He stopped counting after he’d passed 6 months. His best guess was at least a year stuck in this place.
It wasn’t just him that visited of course. He had seen all sorts of people come and go. Old and young. It hurt his heart to see them no matter what age they were. Some were aware of what had happened, ready for the next chapter. Others were less eager. For them, Izuku took it upon himself to assist them in passing on. Usually that meant helping them come to terms with their death and help rid them of their regrets.
But Izuku?
He had no clue what kept him here. He knew why he died. He knew that there was no going back. He knew that any regret he had was impossible to gain. So… why was he still here?
He groaned and flopped onto his back, the soft grass acting like a cushion. He let his eyes fall closed as the sun danced across his face. He could risk a nap while he waited for the next soul. Who knows how long it would take?
—-------
Shouta had died.
It was a good life. He didn’t regret the way he went out either. His colleagues and former students were in trouble. They wouldn’t have made it out in time if he hadn’t sacrificed himself. There was no other way.
He had lived a good life and died a death he was proud of. All that was left to do was cross over. Or at least, that's what he was guessing, seeing as how he was still thinking and conscious.
The man’s questions were answered as awareness came back to him, first below him, grass licking at his legs. Then the breeze, blowing against his skin. Then the sun, warming up his face. The Hero cracked open his eyes and was greeted by a sight that you would see in a movie. A place that looked like it shouldn’t exist.
Rolling fields of grain and wildflowers waved in the wind, outlined by strong and majestic trees. From where he was standing, Shouta could see one tree in the middle of the field, seated beside a small pond.
Is this the afterlife?
If it was, it seemed a lot more… empty then he was expecting. There wasn’t another soul in sight. At first, at least.
Shouta’s eyes caught movement near the pond. A boy, early teens, poked his head up through the grass, back towards Shouta. He stretched out as if he’d just woken up and moved to stand, twisting his body to supposedly wake himself up more.
The kid looked over the fields with a bored expression that fascinated Shouta. Who would look at a place like this with boredom?
Eventually, the boy’s eyes covered the field until he spotted Shouta in the same place he was when he arrived here. Though he was too far to see, it looked like the boy perked up, shaking off his stupor and jogging over to greet him with a bright smile, a startling contrast to his previous disinterested look from before.
As he got closer, Shouta could see the boy’s fluffy hair more clearly, dark roots that looked green in the sunlight. His skin was pale, decorated with freckles that splattered all over his cheeks and nose. And when the boy made it to him, he was able to see the green eyes that matched his hair.
His voice was bright on the surface, but Shouta could hear a slight hint of anxiety and dullness in its timbre.
“Hello! It’s nice to-” The boy cut himself off, getting a good look at the man for the first time, his eyes widening. “Wait, Eraserhead?”
Shouta was honestly a little shocked. Sure, he was still in the clothes he’d died in, hero outfit and all, but even when he was alive and fully suited, rarely anybody recognized him.
“That’s me. Impressive. Not many people know who I am.”
The teen blushed, fiddling with the sleeves of his uniform. Now that Shouta could get a good look, he could see that the boy still donned a middle school uniform.
He’s young…. Or was…
The man stuck his hands into his pockets. “You can call me Shouta. Shouta Aizawa. That’s my civilian name. No need for pleasantries seeing as we’re…. We are dead, right?”
The boy nodded, not even a hint of recoil at the question. “Yeah, we are.” He turned to look over the fields they stood in. “My best guess is this is meant to be a place for souls to reside while they get ready for the afterlife. To sort through their regrets and stuff.”
Shouta raised a brow. “You’re best guess? You don’t, I don’t know, run this place?”
The boy’s eyes widened and he waved his hands frantically in front of him. “Oh, no no no, definitely not. I’m just a normal soul. I’ve just…” He trailed off, his eyes finding the flowers below them. “I’ve been here a while.”
The boy guided them to where he had come from, coming to stand underneath a gorgeous oak tree, limbs overhanging a small pond with crystal clear waters and lily pads.
Shouta sat beside the boy as he ran his fingers along the top of the water. The man cleared his throat.
“So, how do you… pass on?”
The boy shrugged. “I’m not 100% sure. I’ve helped a bunch of people but everyone was different. Some people I just talked to, helped them figure out some stuff, but others just came and went.” He leaned his head against his knees, eyes absentmindedly watching the water. “I’m guessing it has to do with when people are ready to move on. When they are ready to leave behind their old life.”
Shouta nodded. “That’s a pretty thorough theory. Do you mind if I ask how long you’ve been here? You said you’d seen a bunch of people.”
The boy sighed, turning his gaze to the limbs that hung over them, leaves shaking in the wind. “I stopped counting after 6 months but my guess is probably a year? I would guess that time moves differently outside of here though.” He looked at Shouta. “What year was it when you…. Sorry, that’s insensitive to ask. Sorry.”
The man grinned at the boy's politeness. It seemed learned. In a good way and a bad one.
“It was 2056.”
The boy stilled, eyes widening. It was a while before he spoke again, the field only being decorated in distant birdsong and shaking leaves. Shouta studied the boy closely. His uniform looked normal at first glance, but upon closer inspection, the hems were new, a different color than the rest of the cloth, and there were patches that were distinctly a deep gray against the usual black. And the boy’s skin was scarred, old and pale scars, but still noticeable.
When the boy spoke again, it was soft and a little awed. “10 years.”
Shouta froze. 10 years since….
“Is that when you…”
Shouta trailed off but the boy understood the question. He nodded. “Since I came here. Since I died.”
And they sat there, outlined against the backdrop of the field and let the wind blow past them. What could you say to that? It’s okay? Shouta was never one for giving false hope.
“Eraserhead?”
The boy’s voice was quiet and when Shouta turned to look at him, he had pulled his knees up to his chest and sat his chin on his kneecaps.
“Yeah?”
The boy hesitated for a moment. “C-Can I ask you how you….you know…”
Shouta smiled fondly and looked out at the rolling hills. “It was a villain attack. I retired from being a teacher a few years ago, but some of my past students were helping me with a particular case.” He ran his hand through the grass, soft beneath his fingertips. “If I hadn't pushed them out of the way, they would have all been crushed underneath the building. They had so much life ahead of them. So I took their place.”
The teen tilted his head and watched Shouta with a sort of empathy that was rare. “Do you regret it?”
Shouta shook his head. “I don’t. I wish I could have lived a little longer, sure, but I would do it again if it meant they were okay.”
The boy nodded, looking back over the field. “You know, you’re a lot nicer than I thought you’d be.”
Shouta chuckled at that and it seemed the boy hadn’t meant to be heard, turning a bright shade of red at the realization Shouta was listening. “I-I didn’t mean-I wasn’t-” He ducked his head down. “I’m so sorry!”
The man shook his head. “It’s fine, kid. I try to keep up the stern act in front of my students and colleagues and especially on missions.”
“So…. Is it like a persona?”
Shouta shrugged. “Sort of. Honestly, I usually act that way all the time, to keep up appearances. But I guess,” He sighed. “I guess I’ve always cared. Just never liked talking about it or bringing it up.”
The boy smiled.
“That makes sense.” He dropped his head back onto his knees and watched the water again. “You sound like a good teacher.” Then, a little quieter so it might have been for himself. “I wish you were one of my teachers.”
“I didn’t teach middle school unfortunately.”
The boy whipped his head up, eyes wide. “H-How did you know that I’m in middle school?”
Shouta blinked, eyes darting down to the boy’s uniform. “I mean, pretty sure that’s a middle school uniform, right?”
The boy glanced down at himself, cheeks turning a bright red and quickly hid his face in between his knees. “Ah, I forgot I was still wearing this.”
Shouta chuckled and at the sound, the boy untensed a bit. That was something that he had noticed since they’d started talking. The boy was tense. It was subtle, no doubt. But he could see it in the line of his shoulders, the way he hunched in on himself. And the way that, even though his eyes were on the water, Shouta was completely the center of his focus.
“Well, I would have loved to be your teacher, kid. Did you live in the Musatafu area?”
The boy nodded. “Born and raised, I guess.”
“That’s where I taught. UA.”
The boy yet again widened his eyes so much that Shouta might have been concerned for his health if they both hadn’t already died.
“You worked at UA?! Even 10 years ago?!”
The man smiled. “I did. So I’m assuming that was your goal? Before…” He trailed off and it suddenly hit him.
This kid was dead. He wore a school uniform that was frayed and burned. His cheeks were round with baby fat. He was a child. Shouta was in his 40’s. This kid had barely lived.
Usually at the mention of UA, kids would get excited. But the boy next to Shouta stilled. His eyes went blank and he dropped his head onto his knees. His voice is carefully dull.
“I never would have made it in. Even if I had tried.”
Shouta tried to read those words. The intent. The context that was left out.
“How could you be so sure?”
The boy took a shaky breath in and his eyes darted to his shoes. Bright red hightops that were scuffed and worn. They were clearly well loved. Probably his favorite. But the teen looked at them with almost disgust.
“Do you know what these shoes mean?”
Shouta blinked, tilting his head a bit confused. If he thought back far enough, he could remember seeing shoes like that a decade or two ago. There was something major about those who wore that specific brand. He remembered seeing them on the news a few years ago.
“I remembered they were on the news recently. Apparently, they are no longer selling them. Something about being more accessible to more people.”
The boy looked shocked to hear that, falling quiet for a moment. “These are the only shoes that support an extra toe joint.”
It clicked in that moment for Shouta. Quirkless. This boy was quirkless. Suddenly, it made sense to him why he was so tense. Why he watched so intently.
Shouta nodded, watching the lilies on the water. “They come in a lot of colors now. Different styles too.”
“Really?” What a hopeful tone.
“Yeah.”
Shouta remembered feeling glad for so many people when the news came out. That the discrimination had gotten so much better. Only now, he realized they were about 10 years too late.
“A-Are they…” The boy trailed off, searching for what to say, but Shouta could guess what the question was.
“The quirkless are treated like people now, though I believe they always should have. I can’t say that the way people treat them is always good, but most of the time there is seemingly no difference between them anymore.” He scoffed. “Though they were never any different from anyone else to begin with.” He lifted his head to watch the sky overhead, blue with fluffy dancing clouds scattered about. “There are a bunch of new ambassadors that started the movement a few years back. Now, it’s practically a given.”
Shouta turned to the boy that sat beside him. A boy who had never seen that world. But one look in his eyes and the man could tell that it was everything he’d ever dreamed of. The tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes were evidence of that.
“T-Thats…”
He trailed off and Shouta let him.
There was turmoil in the boy’s mind. He could see it in the way he worried his lip between his teeth. The way his hands messed with his sleeves. And suddenly a thought hit Shouta’s mind.
He came here with no regrets.
But what if he was never the one who needed to be put to rest?
In all the years that this boy had been helping others pass on, who helped him?
Shouta took a deep breath in.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
The boy wiped his eyes quickly and turned to face the man. “W-What?”
Shouta smiled softly. “Your life.”
For a moment, the boy just stared at him.
“D-Do you really wanna know?”
“I do. If you want to share, I’ll listen.”
The boy thought, head on his knee. They sat and listened to the wind filter through the leaves and grain.
“I wanted to be a hero.”
Eyes of green watched the trees flutter on the horizon.
“Just like…. Well, like you. I wanted to help people. Save them. Make them feel safe.” He pulled his knees closer to his chest. “But then I turned four and we found out I was quirkless. Dad was… well, he wasn’t h-happy. He stayed for a while… he ended up g-giving me a few scars. He left when I was 8 I think.”
Shotua let the landscape pull him from the anger he felt. To hear a boy so young be abused.
The boy continued.
“Mom was okay, I guess. She just never… never did much of anything. Left money for food while she was at work days at a time. I barely ever saw her. By the time I was in middle school, I only saw her about once every month.”
He ran his fingers through the grass at his side absentmindedly.
“The kids at school never liked me. No one did. Not our neighbors. Not my teachers. Not even random people on the side of the road. They’d take one look at my shoes and write me off as an invalid. But I still wanted to be a hero.”
There was a sad smile that came to his face then but Shouta got the feeling it was to hide something larger.
“Middle school was worse. People…they h-hurt me. They wrote slurs on my desk.” His voice started to shake now. “T-They would chase me in the halls. All I could do was run. Then they… when they’d catch me, I’d get cut and burned and bruised. They broke bones. And people just… turned away. They realized I was quirkless and turned away.”
His shaky voice was now accompanied by tears at his water line but Shouta didn’t dare interrupt. He wasn’t so sure he could trust his voice now anyways.
“I still wanted to be a hero. But… it wasn’t meant to be, I guess. I was useless. Weak. I-I would have just gotten in people's way.” His voice cracked painfully as the boy tried to scrub at his eyes. Shouta could feel dread in the pit of his stomach. Because he could guess where this was headed. “That day was t-the worst i-i-ts ever b-been. I-I didn’t- I didn’t want to. I-I just… What other choice did I have? No one wanted me around, even All Might said I’d be a b-burden. So I just… I just… jumped.”
Shouta pulled the nameless boy into a hug and felt the way the boy melted into the embrace, the silent landscape now accompanied by screaming sobs. It was painful. But Shouta didn’t dare quiet the boy. Who knows how long he’s had to keep it all inside? Everything.
He wished he could take all the pain away. Rewrite the past. Give this boy another chance. But it was already too late. 10 years too late. 10 years since this boy, with a big heart, kind eyes, and trembling hands, thought the only way he could even be valuable to society was to jump off of a roof and end his own life. A boy not yet 16. A boy who never got to be 16.
So he just held the boy, rubbing circles into his back and running his hands through curls. They were soft. His freckles were dotting almost every part of his skin. His watery eyes were like kaleidoscopes. How could anyone look at this kid and wound him so terribly?
Eventually, the sobs quieted to hiccups and sniffles. The boy’s face was still pressed against Shouta’s chest and he didn’t dare let go. He wouldn't move until the boy was ready.
“He was wrong, you know?”
The boy lifted his head, peering up at Shouta with puffy eyes and a red nose. “W-What?”
“All Might. He was wrong about what he said. You aren’t a burden. I doubt you ever were.”
The boy searched Shouta’s eyes but was confused by what he found. “H-How can you be so sure?”
“Because I haven’t once thought that in the time I've known you. In fact,” He made sure to look the boy in the eyes. “You would have been an amazing hero.”
The tears returned, streaming down the boy’s face but he shook his head. “N-No, I couldn’t have saved a-anybody.”
Shouta grinned. “Kid, can’t you see you already have?”
When the boy tilted his head in confusion, Shouta glanced around the rolling hills.
“I’m not sure how many, but you have helped people move on. You talked to them and helped rid them of regrets. To help them let go. All the while, you were never told to. I mean, you looked downright excited to help when I first saw you.” He looked back at the boy, green eyes watching him intently, holding on to his every word.
“Kid, you are a Hero.”
The sobs came back, but this time there was a tiny voice that cracked through as the boy stuffed his face into the man’s shoulder. It repeated the same phrase over and over again. And Shouta’s heart broke a little more every time he caught it between breaths.
“T-Thank you.”
As he held the boy, Shouta found himself watching the sky. Perhaps it was to stop tears of his own from falling, but we may never know. But he pondered something. He was never the religious type. He liked to believe there was something after death, but he never thought too hard about what that was.
But in this moment, he prayed to every god and deity that he could remember that there was more to it than this. That this child could have one more go. One more chance. Shouta would give just about all that he had to ensure it.
Maybe in that life, someone would care about this child. Like he deserved.
“Hey, kid?”
The boy looked up at him, cries quieted a while ago.
“Do you believe in reincarnation? Or different lives, I guess?”
The boy looked contemplative for a beat, nose scrunching as he thought.
“It would be nice.”
Shouta nodded, deciding something within his soul at that moment.
“I don’t know what comes after this. But if it is another life, one like the one we just left, I want to promise something.”
He held the boy back by his shoulders, taking in the boy’s form, watery eyes and fluffy green hair. The boy watched him back with seriousness. As if hanging on Shouta’s every word.
“No matter what happens, I will find you. And when I do, I will make sure that nothing like that ever happens again. In that life, you will become a hero. The greatest there ever was.”
This time, the boy did not cry. There were tears, sure. Streaking down his cheeks. But he didn’t not cry or sob. Instead, he looked into Shouta’s eyes looking for any hint of a lie. When nothing was to be found, he turned his head to the water they sat beside. His voice was soft.
“You were never the one with regrets, were you?”
Shouta smiled.
“Sorry it took so long.”
The boy shook his head, a grin across his face.
“N-No, it’s… yeah.”
The two of them stood. Neither had to say it, but they both felt this tug at their core. Like something was telling them it was time to go. A feeling the boy had worried he would never feel.
The boy turned to Shouta.
“Shou?”
The man smiled at the nickname. “Yeah, kid?”
The boy smiled softly. It was something precious. Like sunlight in the early morning sky.
“My name’s Izuku. Izuku Midoriya. I thought you might need it. You know, for when you come to find me?”
Shouta’s eyes softened, locking the name in the deepest parts of his soul. He practically engraved it into his chest.
The boy tilted his head, that smile being the last thing Shouta saw as his vision began to waver.
“See you in the next life?”
“I’ll be there, Izuku.”
—
He was waiting for something.
He just never knew what.
Not until he stood at the edge of that building, wind through his curls and his Hero’s words still floating through the air. In another world, he didn’t hesitate. In another world, he was already gone.
But in this one, he hesitated. In this one, he was a step closer to the door. In this world, he was waiting for something.
The sound of feet hitting the concrete behind him turned the boy’s attention to the rest of the roof. He found soft eyes and long flowing black hair. A scarf wrapped around his neck. His hero.
The boy smiled. It was broken and strained. But it was steady. Though the source of his waiting had escaped him for so long, it all flooded back to him at that moment. The man’s voice was just as he remembered.
“Izuku. Sorry I’m late.”
The boy, Izuku, just laughed.
“You’re right on time, Shou.”