Title: the age of heroes

Prompt: It is difficult to see a situation for what it is when you are in the middle of it

Character/Pairing: Deku, All Might

A/N: An experiment of trying to slip between past and present. Let me know if it's confusing…anyways, this is my alternative take on what could have happened in the series (I feel like all the hints of Deku's narration really leads to an "All Might will die" sorta thing)

Summary: A hero had died. It was the end of an era.

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It had happened at 10:32 pm, August 15th. On the dot.

Even years later, Izuku can recall that moment in vivid detail. The exact shape of the moon, the sounds of the crowd, Bakugo's irritated growl as they left the scene.

"It had been for the best," he tells anyone who asked. "We were young, inexperienced. We couldn't do anything."

The night had been a hot one with not a single cool breeze to provide relief. Izuku swallows as he speaks, his mouth drying in the memory. He had needed water after pulling off the rescue operation. But that had to wait till after they were safely clear of the fight.

"What about the cops?" someone inevitably asks. "Or your teachers? Why not call them?"

There had been no need to. Everyone who was available had been at the scene. And it had been All Might.

He was there. Nothing could go wrong, no enemy could win. It was All Might.

"All Might?" It is harder for the younger, newer generation to remember. They stare at him, at Izuku as though to compare his strength to that of this ancient name. At that time, Deku couldn't have imagined that he would become the next pillar, the next icon.

But now he is Izuku and now he understands exactly what his teacher had meant by the weight of a smile, the responsibility of the saviour.

"He was the strongest hero at that time." He gestures with his hands, trying to conjure the image of a god. "His strength, his speed, it was…if he was there, there was nothing to fear. He was more than just a hero."

"I see." They stare at him in disbelief, even as he pulls up a picture.

Giving up, he goes back to the story. He had been so young then, so young and immature.

Every smart phone, every shop front was playing the footage. All Might punched once, twice, his fists reverberating through the earth. They could feel the tremors despite the distance, the ground trembling faintly as the titans fought on. The enemy, a black mask grinning eerily in the moonlight, blocked deftly. His feet slid back but he held, his stolen strength defying all odds.

He might lose, Deku had thought before shaking his head of the stupid thought. It had to be a stupid thought. All Might couldn't lose. He wouldn't lose.

"But even you lose sometimes," someone pipes up. "No one is perfect."

"No, no one is." Izuku rubs his neck, trying to maintain his smile. "But he was."

It might have been youth. That belief that no one will die, no one will fall. But it was more than that—young and old alike could never have imagined what happened that day.

No one had remembered he was still just a human underneath it all. Not even Deku had, even though he knew better than anyone just how weak his teacher could be.

How fragile Toshinori was, with his sharp cheeks and raspy cough, blood spraying out of his mouth whenever he laughed too hard.

The image on the tv screens reminded him as steam rose from All Might's body, as his body shrank from god to mortal.

No, someone had screamed. A child, perhaps. It might have been him.

All For One's smirk deepened as he struck once more, his fists cutting through Toshinari's body like a knife.

At the bottom of the screen, in dark red, it read 10:32pm. The digits froze there, as though time itself didn't want to see what happened next. Deku stopped breathing, his heart skipping a beat.

No one spoke. Even the birds stopped chirping. It was as though, with bated breath, the world was waiting to see what would happen.

His body wouldn't move, wouldn't turn fast enough. He had to get back.

The digit changed. 10:33pm.

All Might collapsed to the ground.

The number flashed brightly and he couldn't tear his eyes from the screen, unable to comprehend what he was watching.

A wisp of a man laid on the ground, pools of red darkening the rubble around him.

Get up, someone had shouted. The crowd chanted. The words lingered in the air. If they repeated enough, it would work, it had to.

Now, fifteen years later, he can say this part without choking on his tears, his voice steady. It had taken years to get this level of control, to touch this memory and not fall apart.

"But it didn't. He didn't get back up."

"He died?"

Izuku's smile drops now. "It was more than that. All Might hadn't just died. It wasn't just the death of a hero."

No, it was much more than that. The battles that happened after, the friendships that broke. It was the end of innocence, of hope.

It was the end of an era.