The Forging of a New Hero
The first rays of dawn were barely peeking over the horizon when Izuku and Bakugo got up from their sleep started to move. Like Bell, they had learn to develop their own biological clock that woke them before the crack of dawn. The only one who came even remotely close to them was Bell, but he would usually wake up about thirty minutes after them. Izuku and Bakugo had also needed less sleep than others because back during the Final War, they had very little time to sleep and often go days without sleeping.
The people in the village still slumbered, save for the occasional rooster’s crow and the distant bleating of sheep. Izuku’s and Bakugo’s breath came out in faint puffs of mist, the morning air still crisp with the remnants of the night’s chill.
Izuku stretched his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders to get rid of the stiffness as he looked over at Bakugo, who was already grabbing a bucket from outside the cottage.
"Alright," Izuku muttered, rubbing his eyes, "Chores first, then training Bell."
Bakugo hummed, glancing at Izuku from the corner of his eye. "Duh. We aren’t letting the old man nag us about slacking off." He tossed a bucket at Izuku, who sagged it out of the air.
"You get water. I’ll deal with the animals." Izuku nodded before making his way toward’s one of the closest well in the village. On the other hand Bakugo would stalked toward a small barn to tend to the livestock.
It had become routine by now. Chores weren’t something they did back in their world, being heroes-in-training meant constant actions and studying. But here, in this quiet, simple village, work was survival. The first few days had been an adjustment, but now, it was second nature.
When Izuku finally returned, carrying two full buckets of water, Bakugo had already finished feeding the animals and was chopping firewood with practiced ease. That rhythmic thwack of the axe echoed in the morning air. It amaze Izuku how well Bakugo has adapted to this new and out of place routine considering his “explosive” personality and attitude towards everything outside of hero related.
Izuku set the water down by the door and glanced up at the sky, gauging the time. The sun had barely risen, which means that Bell would be up soon and once he is done with his morning chores, they will begin the start of what Izuku could see is many, many, training sessions for the white hair boy.
[30 Minutes Later]
The first thing Bell Cranel noticed as he woke from his nap was how quiet the house was.
There were no murmured conversations taking place, no sound of heavy footsteps or of pots clanking in the kitchen. For a brief moment, Bell panicked, sitting up sharply and looking around.
He found his room quiet, nothing looked out of place. When he turned to the spare bed, he saw that Izuku wasn’t there but Eri was. Looking a bit closer, Bell could see the rise of her small chest. A good indication that she was very much still nestled into the confines of sleep. Before he could wonder where Izuku and Bakugo, the memories of last night finally settled in, how Izuku and Bakugo agreed to train him.
The promises of pain and blood soak tears were stated to be seen, which is why when Bell had remembered that part he groaned, putting two fingers on his nose as he turned to look out the window.
Bell could see that the early morning sun was already beginning to creep high into the sky, casting warm hues across the village. His bed was warm, and the comfort of sleep still clung to him as judge by how heavy his eyelids still were but he knew better than to waste time sitting on bed.
If he wanted to become a hero, if he truly wants to reach for his impossible dream, he had to push himself far greater than he has ever had before. Throwing off his blanket, Bell rolled out of bed and started stretching his limbs.
He knew he was already behind, Izuku and Bakugo were always the first to wake.
‘They’re already up. Probably waiting for me.’ Bell thought as he suddenly stopped before he spurred himself into action. As soon as he was done with the last stretch, Bell quickly put on his clothes while being mindful to stay quiet as to not disturb Eri from waking up.
Once he had everything on him, Bell quickly left his room and soon found himself outside basking in the cold, yet comforting air.
As part of his morning routine, Bell hurried to finish his chores. The village was already stirring as he stepped outside, the scent of morning dew lingering in the air. Farmers could be seen as they lead their cattle out, children are heard as they run through the dirt paths, as a few elderly villagers sat outside their homes, watching as the another day in the village begin.
Bell moved quickly, he grabbed an empty bucket filled it at one of the wells, and carried that to some of the neighboring homes. He checked in the moved livestock, ensuring they had their food and that nothing seemed out of place. It was Bakugo’s job to move them every morning while it was Bell’s job to make sure they got their food.
One of his other chores was to head to the baker’s shop, run by old man Funaki, where he would helped knead dough into pastries and once they were finish he would delivered the fresh loaves to some of the older villagers who struggled to make the trip themselves to his shop.
With the crisp morning air, the work was done with the hands of an experience worker but for a moment, Bell would let himself enjoy the chores as they help clear his mind from the clutter of his thoughts.
That didn’t mean it stop all thoughts, the most abrasive ones always managed to come on through.
‘What kind of training will they have me do? Will I be able to keep up?’ Bell thought as he felt a sudden drip of anxiety wash over him.
That anxiety mixed with excitement, made his hands shake slightly while he stacked a pile of firewood for one of the village homes. As Bell stood up and walked away to perform another one of his chores, he came to a small starling conclusion.
“I’m not going to be trained by just anyone, but in fact two people who were considered heroes.” It was almost surreal to the white hair boy, all his life he as grown immersed in hero stories, with his grandpa often reading him one every night when he was younger.
Despite hearing those stories again and again, Bell never got tired of them. In fact, he was so constantly exposed to those stories that he could, quite easily, recite them word for word if need be. That’s not even mentioning that Bell had taken an interest in art and had actually made paintings of the heroes from those stories with Grandpa’s help as he had provided sources.
So, when the Izuku and Bakugo had told him that they were indeed heroes, well, Bell couldn’t help but want to break out his art supplies and create a painting of them. He wanted to capture their essence and put into his works, though of course he would have to ask first. Izuku, he did not doubt that he would say yes. Bakugo on the other hand.
If Bell was in an anime, a comical large sweatdrop would have appear on the side of his head. Asking Bakugo would be likely enough to warrant him an explosion straight to the face.
He would rather not face that, but his blood as an artist override his sense of common decency.
The artist within him demanded that he should captured Izuku Midoriya, his determination alone was unlike anything Bell had ever seen.
Katsuki Bakugo, who commanded raw power with an intensity that made even the strongest people in the village hesitate and try not to get on his bad side.
‘They weren’t adventurers, they were heroes.’
Bell exhaled sharply, clenching his fists. He had always dreamed of being one himself. And now, he has a chance to learn from one of them, an opportunity like that doesn’t come often and Bell planned on taking full advantage of it.
Once his chores were finished, Bell jogged back home. His heart was pounding with anticipation.
His usual clothes, the white tunic and leather armor, weren’t suited for what looked to be an intense training session. Instead, he pulled on a simple loose-fitting white tunic and dark workout pants. His outfit choice was light, allowing him to move freely, and it had been reinforced by the grandmothers of the village to withstand wear and tear.
Looking at himself in the small mirror by his bedside, Bell couldn’t help but tightened his fists as he took in his appearance.
‘This is it.’ Bell thought as he smiled. He grabbed a small towel and slung it over his shoulder before heading out.
It didn’t take long for Bell to find Izuku and Bakugo, who were waiting near the village’s entrance. The sight of them standing there made him pause for a second.
Both were wearing their hero costumes, he heard them mumble those words when looking over the dark clothes, a stark contrast to his simpler training attire.
Izuku stood near the gate with a simple relaxed posture, his arms crossed over his chest. His black jumpsuit with green edges looked slightly worn but still sturdy.
The black utility belt was fastened tightly around his waist. Black steel-toed boots dug into the dirt, and his messy green hair shifted slightly with the breeze. Honestly, when Bell had seen the steel-toed boots, he couldn’t but widened his eyes at the craftsmanship of the boots. It was clearly well made and look best suited to be use in fights.
But what caught Bell’s attention the most was the look in his eyes. When looking into Izuku’s emerald eyes, they were focused with a hint of kindness, but unwavering. Bell could only attribute that to a mentor’s gaze, which is topic he often read in the hero stories.
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Then there was Bakugo.
His hero costume was intimidating up close, black with the exception of orange "X", the soles of his boots, and his gloves while retaining the metal kneepads and his metallic neck brace has two holes on each side instead of three.
The Grenadier Bracers were redesigned to be shaped like flashbang grenades rather than frag grenades. He also has two silver plates on his shoulders with the letters "UA" and two straps coming down from his neck brace with a red button on the left.
The gloves he insisted on keeping flexed slightly, his fingers twitching as if couldn’t wait to test Bell and his limits before the training had even begun. When looking to his eyes, Bell couldn’t help but swallowed. Despite his eyes being the same crimson as his, they were intense and sharp, like molten embers. His eyes burn with an almost feral grin appearing on his face that made Bell suddenly regret asking to be trained by them.
‘I’m going to die, aren’t I?’ Bell thought before he notice Bakugo’s scowl. "You’re late, little rabbit."
Bell flinched. "Sorry!" With said white hair boy cursing himself for already making one of his instructors mad.
Izuku chuckled, shaking his head. "Don’t worry about my brother’s scowl too much, Bell. Takes a lot for someone to earn the title of being called his friend." Izuku said, smirking when he heard Bakugo’s low growl.
"I noticed," Bell muttered, still trying to calm his nerves down after nearly skyrocketing to the heavens.
"You’ll get used to it soon enough," Izuku assured him, a small smile playing on his lips. He then gestured toward the open field that was beyond the village. "Now come on. Let’s get started."
Bell nodded, and soon the three were off. While Izuku and Bakugo lead, Bell would be just a few steps away from them. As they walked, the village began to shrink behind them, the open fields stretching ahead. Despite having pass by it many times over the last few weeks, it still remained one of most beautiful sights Izuku and Bakugo had ever seen.
Meanwhile, Bell was trying to psyche himself up for the training session. He tightened his fists and close his eyes.
‘This was it. I’m taking the first step towards my dream of being a hero!’ Bell reopened his eyes and if neither one of his mentors would have turn to look at him, they would have seen the beginnings of a small fire.
A fire the encompass the boy’s soul and his dream. The fire was small right now, but soon that fire would grow and show to everyone how Bell wouldn’t let his words be an empty promise.
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(When Bell was doing Chores)
But one person had yet to wake.
A glance through the open doorway confirmed it as Eri was still curled up under the blankets, sleeping peacefully. With her small form barely stirring.
Izuku smiled softly. After everything she had been through, he didn’t mind letting her sleep in. She deserved it after all.
Bakugo, noticing his stare, grunted, "She ain't gonna wake up for another three hours. Wish I had it that easy." Izuku couldn’t tell the tone that Bakugo spoke in, but he chuckled softly, not wanting to disturb his little snowflakes sleep.
"She’s still a kid, brother. Let her have her rest."
Bakugo rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. The two headed back outside once they grabbed their hero costumes.
Heading to the back of the house, and after making sure no one was watching them, the two heroes quickly put on their clothes, making sure everything was strapped together nicely.
They worked in silence, not minding have to change next to each other. Once they were done, they headed to the village’s gate and wait for Bell to show up.
Two hours later, when the sun had fully risen and the village had come alive with its usual bustle, Eri finally woke up from her dreams.
She sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes before stretching. The warmth of the blankets made her reluctant to leave the comfort of bed, but she knew she couldn’t just lay there all day. So, with a heavy reluctance, Eri got up from her bed and start getting ready for the day.
After freshening up, she stepped outside. Almost immediately the morning sun warmed her skin.
Izuku and Bakugo were nowhere to be seen. Which likely meant that they were already training with Bell. That was fine, she had her own lessons to attend to.
She made her way through the village, greeting an occasional villager who had come to see her as that sweet girl staying with Gramps and his grandsons.
Eventually, she reached her destination, an old but cozy home belonging to a kind elderly woman named Miriam.
Miriam had taken a liking to girl immediately, and after learning that the little girl wanted to learn how to sew, she had eagerly taken her under her wing.
As soon as Eri knocked on the door, it opened almost immediately. Which reveal the smiling face of the old woman.
"Ah, Eri, dear, right on time." Miriam gestured for her to come inside. "Come in, come in. We have much to do today!"
Eri smiled and stepped inside, eager to continue learning. She was working on something for her papa and momma. Despite her momma not being here, she still wanted to make something for her to always remember. She didn’t want to ever forget the memories she had with her.
As the morning passed, Eri sat by the window of Miriam’s home, carefully threading a needle, focusing intently as she worked on her latest project.
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As Bell jogged off toward the hill to begin, Izuku and Bakugo stood watching him. Both of their expressions were more serious than before.
Izuku crossed his arms, exhaling. "I know you agreed to it yesterday but I put you on the spot. So I ask again, are you sure about wanting to do this brother?" However, Bakugo scoffed as he rolled his eyes.
"Tch. You’re the one who wanted to do it." Both heroes turn back to Bell with Izuku’s gaze softening as he watched Bell struggle to lift a particularly large piece of wood he, for some reason, found interest in.
"He reminds me of myself," Izuku admitted quietly. Bakugo, who didn’t show his reaction to that, turn to look at Izuku.
"Back when I was quirkless you know. When all I had was that dream to keep me going but no actually way to reach it." Hearing that, Bakugo grunted. "Yeah, yeah. I get it. You’re still going to hold that over my head until the end of lives.” Bakugo muttered while Izuku made a close eye smile, tilting his head slightly. This sent a shiver down Bakugo’s spine.
’Goddam nerd watched too much anime!’ The blond thought as he suddenly had vietnam flashbacks. But before he could be dragged in too deep, he shook his head and looked back at Izuku.
“But don’t get soft on him, brother. Rabbit’s got guts, but guts won’t stop a sword from cutting his damn head off if he’s overconfident or too careless.” Izuku’s eyes narrowed. "I know. That’s why we’re doing this right."
For a long moment, they were silent, simply watching Bell as he ran towards an empty field.
Then Bakugo huffed. "Besides, from what we have seen so far this world’s weak. If we’re stuck here for the foreseeable future, we might as well toughen at least one of these people up."
Hearing his brother’s rant, Izuku chuckled. He has grown use to hearing such brash language from him. "Guess we’re doing to do what All Might did for us, huh?" Izuku said, smirking as he bump Bakugo’s shoulder lightly.
Which resulted in him getting a chopped to the head. “Ow! What the heck?!” Bakugo scoffed.
"Don’t compare me to that old man." Bakugo growled out, crossing his arms as he tune out Izuku.
’Aw…I see. Your still hung up on that issue aren’t you….well that’s okay.’ Knowing why his brother acted in that way, he couldn’t help but regret what he said. With not much else to say, they both turn back to Bell
But as they watched Bell, the same unbreakable determination burning in his eyes, neither of them could deny it.
[After finding a Open Field]
The sun hung in the sky, casting a golden glow over the quiet fields surrounding the village as a gentle breeze rustled the tall grass where Bell stood, wide-eyed and determined. He stood before the two strangers who had, in mere weeks, become permanent fixtures in his life.
Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo had not only shown the village how incredible they are but to Bell they were something more. Behind close doors, Bell and his Grandpa had been told that they were survivors, protectors of the weak, heroes.
So, as Bell had listened to their stories, what very little they were willing to share, he had felt his own dream solidify. A final piece he needed, he wanted to be like them.
So when he had asked them, pleaded with them even, to train him, Bell had expected hesitation. Perhaps even rejection and he wouldn’t blame them for saying no.
Instead, they had only exchanged a look. To which they smiled before saying they agreed.
Now, standing before them in the open field, Bell was feeling both excited and terrified.
Izuku stretched his arms over his head, rolling his shoulders before turning to Bell with a grin.
"Alright, Bell, if we’re going to do this, we’re starting with speed."
Bakugo grins, arms crossed. "And strength. The little rabbit can barely lift a damn crate without looking like he’s gonna snap in half." There was a lot of truth for that as they had to take over the much heavy duty lifting work around the village.
Bell flushed in embarrassment, but Izuku only smiled. "One thing at a time, brother." Then, looking back at Bell, he said, "Before I got really strong, I had to train my body to handle just a fraction of my strength. So we’ll start with speed and endurance before moving on to anything advanced." Izuku turn to his brother and could not help but smile as he saw the cat-like grin on his face.
Bakugo cracked his knuckles. "Heh. And I’m making sure you don’t stay a weakling. You need muscle if you don’t wanna die the second you step into a real fight."
Bell swallowed but nodded determinedly. "I’m ready."
Izuku grinned, his green eyes twinkling with small hints of mischief. "Good. Then let’s start with something simple."
He gestured toward a small hill that was littered with debris branches, broken crates, and scattered rocks. It had become a trash dumping ground and over time was starting to ruin the beautiful landscape. Well, that stops right now.
"First task? Clean up the trash."
Bell blinked, thinking he heard wrong. "Wait… what?"
Izuku merely grin, his eyes still twinkling. "Well, when I first started training, my first task was to clean up an entire beach full of junk."
Bakugo smirked, appearing to look back on fond memories. "Took him months to finish by the way.”
Izuku shot him a look. "The point is," he continued, "It wasn’t just about cleaning. The purpose was to build up strength, endurance, and my ability to move while carrying heavy loads. It taught me how to pace myself and how to breathe properly."
Bell hesitated, glancing at the hill again. It seemed… mundane. He was expecting something much more…flashy.
Bakugo, seeing his hesitation, growled. "You don’t wanna do it? Fine.” Bell looked at him, rising an eyebrow. “Go back to lifting sacks of wheat and stay weak.” Bell subconsciously grip his hands too tightly. But before he could say anything, he was interrupted by Bakugo once more. “But if you want be strong, listen to us."
Bell unclenched his fists. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the goals he wanted to achieve.
He wanted to be strong, wanted to protect people and to be worthy of his dream.
"Alright. I’ll do it." Izuku beamed. "That’s the spirit!"
Bell stepped forward, staring at the scattered debris across the hill. The morning breeze carried the scent of damp earth and fresh grass, but it did little to cool the nervous energy that buzzed beneath his skin. His hands twitched at his sides. Still though,
‘Cleaning up trash… This was the first step?’ It wasn’t that he doubted Izuku, but compared to the grueling training he had imagined, this look too easy.
Then again…
Bell stole a glance at Bakugo, who looked at him like he was already regretting agreeing to this.
“Quit standing around, Rabbit.” The blond let off small explosions from his knuckles, his ruby-red eyes sharp with impatience. “You gonna start, or are we gonna have to get physical?” Bakugo lets out bigger and bigger explosions by the second.
Bell gulped. “R-Right!”
He hurried toward the nearest pile of broken crates, hands gripping the wooden slats as he attempted to lift them. Immediately, his arms strained, and he stumbled back a step before adjusting his grip.
Behind him, Bakugo let out an exasperated sigh.
“Pathetic.” Immediately, his brother slapped him hard, with Bakugo yelling. “Hey! What was that for!?!” Izuku, however, ignored his brother’s yell and simply nodded to himself.
“It’s fine, Bell. Remember, don’t just rely on your arms, use your legs to support the weight.”
Bell readjusted his stance, bending his knees as he tried again. This time, he managed to lift the crate fully before awkwardly carrying it toward the side of the hill. It was slow. Clumsy.
But he did it.
He grinned at Izuku, only for Bakugo to scoff. “Don’t get all proud over carrying one piece of junk. You’ve got a long way to go, Rabbit.” Bell’s face burned, but he swallowed his frustration and went back for another piece. Izuku eyes widen when he realized what Bakugo was doing.
’Oh, I see. Well done brother, I didn’t know you were going to do this so soon.’
Izuku, who now knew what Bakugo was now doing, watched with an analytical gaze. “Good! Now, Bell, keep your movements steady, don’t rush but don’t take too long either. You’re working against your own stamina here.”
“I-I got it!” Bell grunted, hauling another heavy chunk of wood.
They kept at it for a long time and the two heroes were surprised by his endurance but eventually Bell’s breathing grew heavier, sweat beading at his forehead.
The initial confidence he had, quickly crumbled under the sheer tedium of the task. His arms ached and his legs burned from constant bending and lifting.
And yet, neither Izuku nor Bakugo told him to stop.
Even as his limbs screamed in protest, even as exhaustion crept into his bones, they simply watched.
When Bell dropped a particularly heavy crate with a thud, he hunched over, gasping. “H-How… how long did you say you did this for, Izuku?”
Izuku’s grin was maddening. “Ten months.”
Bell nearly collapsed. “T-Ten—?!”
Bakugo laughed, an unkind, smug sound that drew on Bell’s tired nerves. “What? Don’t tell me you’re already thinking about quitting?”
Bell gritted his teeth, wiping sweat from his brow. His muscles trembled, his lungs burned, but he refused to stop now.
He wanted this…no…he needed this.
So he straightened his back, squared his shoulders, and went to grab another piece of debris.
Izuku’s grin widened. “Good. Keep going.” He could say that Bell’s determination was spot on. It was one of his more memorable trait that Izuku saw and reminded himself of all his friends back home.
’Aw, I hope they’re doing okay.’ Izuku thought as he looked up the sky.
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The hours stretched on.
Bell lost track of time, his world so narrowed to the strain in his limbs, the weight in his hands felt nonexistent and the pounding in his chest.
It was relentless, grueling. But through it all, Izuku gave his input, encouragement when he needed it.
“Keep your pace steady.”
“Breathe through your nose, not just your mouth.”
“Push past the fatigue, but don’t overdo it.”
And Bakugo, though far harsher, pushed him in a way that made Bell want to prove himself.
“You’re moving too slow! Pick it up!”
“Your form’s all wrong! Fix it before you throw your damn back out!”
“Don’t just stare at the damn thing, move!”
Bell’s hands shook. His legs threatened to give out. But as he looked at the two before him, two heroes who had seen more battles than he could ever imagine, who carried their own scars yet kept moving forward, he knew he couldn’t stop.
So he didn’t, finding his resolve once more. He didn’t stopped moving, even when his body screamed. Not even when Bakugo barked at him to go faster. Not even when Izuku had finally clapped his hands together.
“Alright, that’s enough for now.” Bell sworn he could have heard the bells of salvation.
Bell barely heard him, his vision dark and his arms felt extremely heavy, but he remained standing, panting as he took in the now semi-cleared hill.
Izuku approached him, smiling. “You did great, Bell.”
Bell wobbled slightly but smiled weakly. “Th-Thanks… I think I’m dying.”
Bakugo snorted. “You’ll be fine. Now get up, training’s not over.”
Bell could practically feel soul leave his body. “W-WHAT?!”
Izuku gave the white hair boy a grin before he turned to Bakugo. “Come on, brother, he just finished clearing the debris.”
“And?” Bakugo shot back. “He’s got two legs, doesn’t he? If he can stand, he can run.”
Bell groaned. “Please tell me this isn’t another ten-month thing.”
Izuku rubbed the back of his head. “...We’ll see how long you last.”
Bell slumped forward. ‘What have I gotten myself into?’ Bell thought as he forcibly made his body move and start running. Every step he took made his body quiver but he kept on.
For his dream, he would stop at nothing to achieve it.
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The gentle rustling of the wind carried the scent of grass and earth as an old man and a little girl approached the open field. The sun had climbed higher now, casting golden light over the trio who stood amidst their training on a very wide open field.
Bell’s Gramps stroked his beard as he took in the sight before him with open amusement. "Well, well, what do we have here?"
Beside him, Eri’s small hands gripped the fabric of her cloak, her wide red eyes locking onto the people before her. At first, she had simply come along because Gramps had invited her, saying it’d be interesting to watch. She hadn’t thought much of it.
But now, standing at the edge of the field, she felt her breath hitch.
Papa stood tall, sweat glistening on his forehead. He wore his hero costume and Eri almost felt like crying, it’s been so long since she had seen him wore it. He was talking with his voice firm but encouraging, as he corrected Bell’s stance. Bell, panting and shaking, nodded through his exhaustion, determination burning behind those crimson eyes.
To the side, Bakugo barked sharp words, arms crossed in that same grumpy, but,’focused way that was so him. His red eyes were locked onto Bell, analyzing his every move, trying to push him to be better.
Eri had seen this before. The weight of nostalgia settled in her chest, warm and bittersweet.
This was just like back home. Back when her Papa and Momma trained together.
She remembers sitting at the edge of the courtyard, watching Izuku and Bakugo push each other beyond their limits. They shouted, fought but were laughing. Back when everything had made sense.
Her heart ached for the home they’d lost, for the world they might never return to.
And yet…
She watched Bell stumble but he kept going, as she heard papa’s encouragement and Bakugo’s relentless drive, she realized something.
It wasn’t just nostalgia. This was happening now. Papa and Bakugo weren’t just training Bell for the sake of it. They were trying to pass something on, something very important.
Something that made them who they were. Eri’s fingers loosened their grip on her cloak as she smiled.
Gramps, who had been quietly observing the emotions playing across her face, let out a chuckle. "You’ve seen this before, haven’t you, little one?"
Eri turned to him, her red eyes shining. She nodded.
Gramps hummed in understanding before stroking his beard. His gaze flickered back to Izuku and Bakugo, eyes twinkling with child like wonder.
"Those two… they carry something special. It’s rare to see men like that, men who don’t just fight but teach…."
He watched as Bakugo shoved Bell forward, forcing him to start another set of sprints despite the boy’s protests. Izuku, meanwhile, ran alongside him, encouraging him to push past his limits.
Gramps grinned.
"Watching them almost reminds me of heroes long past." Now at that, Eri’s smile grew.
{XXXX}
Back in the My Hero World
The hallway was quiet, too quiet.
Toshinori Yagi, once known as the indomitable Symbol of Peace, now stood before the door to Kyoka Jirou’s room, his fist raised but hesitant to knock.
The air in the dormitory had been heavy for weeks now. Grief clung to the walls like a lingering storm, silent but suffocating.
The world had moved on, as it always did. Heroes had gone back to their duties, the media had found new stories, and society had begun its slow process of rebuilding after the war.
But in here, within these walls, time had all but stopped. And no one felt it more than her.
Toshinori took a slow breath before finally knocking. There was no response, not that he expected one.
He had passed by this room every day, watching from afar as it remained shut, untouched, as though frozen in time. Once filled with the rhythmic beats of music and quiet laughter, it now stood as a ghost of what it had been.
But today, he was looking to change that. So in steeling himself, he turned the knob.
The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit space.
The curtains were drawn, letting only slivers of light filter through. The air was stale, untouched by fresh wind. Clothes, blankets, and papers littered the floor. Vinyl records, some cracked, others stacked haphazardly, lined the desk, their covers coated in dust. A guitar sat propped against the bed, strings untouched for what looked like weeks.
And then, there was her.
Jirou lay curled on her bed, face hidden beneath tangled sheets, her breathing shallow and slow.
For a moment, Toshinori simply watched. She had wasted away.
Her skin had lost its color, her body thinner than he remembered. The dark circles under her eyes were a testament to sleepless nights, the way her hair clung to her face spoke of days perhaps weeks, without care.
It was as though she were fading. Just like him.
With careful steps, Toshinori entered, pulling out the desk chair and sitting with a weary sigh. "Young Jirou," he called gently.
She didn’t stir. He frowned. "Young Jiro, I know you’re awake."
Still, nothing.
Toshinori exhaled, running a bony hand through his unkempt hair. "I understand why you don’t want to talk." His voice was soft, but firm.
"Believe me, I do."
Silence.
"I lost him too, you know."
A small twitch, but barely noticeable.
But he saw it.
Feeling a sense of encouragement, he continued.
"Izuku, Bakugo, Eri…" His voice wavered, just for a moment. "They were suppose to lead far into the future." His fingers curled into a fist on his lap.
"And now they’re gone."
The word gone felt like a blade in his throat, cutting its way through years of denial and regret.
At last, Jirou shifted. Not much. Just a slow, painful movement as she turned her face slightly away from the pillow.
It wasn’t much. But it was something.
Toshinori sighed, glancing toward the scattered records on her desk. His eyes lingered on one, the cover worn but still vibrant.
He felt a memory surfaced.
Izuku, wide-eyed and eager, talking about how cool Young Jirou’s music was. Bakugo scoffing but secretly listening when he thought no one was watching. Eri giggling when Jirou played something soft, swaying to the gentle melody.
They had been happy here. Found peace here, it was their home away from home. A sacred place just for the four of them to enjoy.
And now, all that was left was silence.
Toshinori leaned forward, his voice dropping. "You know… I used to believe that no matter how much we lost, we had to keep moving forward."
A pause.
"That’s what I taught Midoriya. That’s what I believed." His grip tightened.
"But after losing them… I don’t know anymore."
Jirou’s breathing hitched.
Slowly, in a painfully manner, she sat up. Her movements were sluggish, as though weighed down by unseen chains. Her eyes, bloodshot and hollow, met his for the first time in weeks.
"You… don’t believe that anymore?" Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.
Toshinori stared at her for a long moment.
Then, he exhaled. "No. I still do." Jirou flinched, as if struck by lightning.
"But…" His gaze softened. "I’ve also learned that moving forward doesn’t mean forgetting."
She looked away.
"Izuku, Bakugo, and Eri…they mattered more than anything," he continued, voice steady. "And their absence "loss” doesn’t have to mean the end of us."
Jirou’s hands trembled in her lap.
"It feels like the end." Her voice so soft that Toshinori doubt he would have been able to hear it if he wasn’t trained.
Toshinori smiled sadly. "I know."
Her shoulders shook.
"I don’t know how to exist without them."
Her confession shattered the last of the walls between them. Toshinori, ever patient, let the silence settle before speaking again.
"You don’t have to figure that out alone."
Jirou’s breath came out shaky. "But it hurts."
Toshinori reached out, gently placing a hand over her head. "It will. It always will."
A tear slipped down her cheek.
"But we carry them with us, don’t we?" He squeezed lightly. "In our memories, the lessons they taught us…and the ways they changed us."
Jirou swallowed thickly, her other hand clenching into a fist.
"I don’t want to forget them."
Toshinori’s smile was bittersweet. "Then don’t."
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then, Jirou let out a broken breath. "It’s not fair."
Toshinori chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. "No, it isn’t."
Jirou wiped her eyes, sniffling. "They deserved better."
"That they did," Toshinori agreed with her.
Jirou hiccupped, a small and bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Damn right they did."
Toshinori grinned, though his own eyes were misty. "See? That’s the spirit."
Jirou exhaled, staring at the dust-covered guitar in the corner of the room. Toshinori followed her gaze.
"Play for them."
She blinked.
He gestured toward the instrument. "You think Young Midoriya would want silence?" He smirked. " Young Bakugo would be pissed if he knew you let your skills rust."
Jirou let out a wet chuckle. "He would."
"And Eri?" Toshinori’s smile softened. "She loved your music."
Jirou’s fingers twitched. Just hearing her little snowflake’s name was enough, coming from a man who shared her pain.
Slowly, she slid off the bed, stepping toward the guitar with hesitant steps.
She picked it up.
The weight was familiar, comforting even.
She plucked a string. Then another.
Her hands were shaky, the sound was rough, but it was something.
Toshinori leaned back, watching as a spark, small, but real lit in Jirou’s eyes.
A melody filled the room. It was soft and a bit unsteady. But alive.
And for the first time in weeks, the silence was broken and filled with a beautiful noise once again.