Mortality

1. Grieve the Mourning

It's hard to describe to somebody the grief of losing someone close if they haven't experienced it themselves. It's hard to describe the feeling of watching someone you hold so very close die a gruesome death in front of you when you potentially had the power to stop it.

Midoriya Izuku was going to be someone great. Everyone who ever met him knew that and could say so confidently. He was so selfless, so caring, and so kind to everyone he met even if they didn't deserve it. He was All Might's successor, which meant nothing to most, but so much to him. He was chosen out of everyone in the world to hold a power so formidable and to be trusted with it, to save everyone he could. He was going to be something so wonderful that the world needed. He was going to be a Hero.

Was.

Because Midoriya Izuku was dead. And there was no changing that.

-

After the tragic event, the students of Class 1-A were told they could return home for a couple of days if they wished, to help them grieve privately and gain comfort from those they loved.

Todoroki initially didn't want to go home. He knew he would find little comfort there, knowing that his siblings were busy, and nothing about his father would bring him comfort. Todoroki imagined that he would probably pat him on the back and tell him to get over it. That it was less competition so he should be glad. Todoroki knew that was probably not what his father would say, knowing that he was trying his best to become a better person and a better father, but the bitterness he still held couldn't help but imagine it that way.

It wasn't fair, he decided. Usually when something was bothering him, or there was something he wanted to talk about, he would seek out Midoriya knowing that he wouldn't mind hearing it and wouldn't judge him for what he had to say or vent about. Sometimes Midoriya even sought out Todoroki, trying to help the boy as much as he could. Todoroki use to wonder if that was secretly another quirk that Midoriya held, being able to sense when his friends needed him. But in reality, that was just the type of person Midoriya was, a good and trusted friend.

But now he had no one to talk to.

It had been three days and he found himself standing outside of Midoriya's dorm room, just staring at the locked door. Midoriya was dead. And Todoroki knew that standing there, waiting for the door to open to see a smiling Midoriya was not helping. The room was untouched, still shut from when Midoriya locked the room himself before they left for the field trip that ended in the horrific event. Aizawa-sensei mentioned that at some point Midoriya's mother would be stopping by to collect everything out of the room, but that wasn't going to be for a while. Todoroki imagined she was busy trying to sort everything else out, on top of grieving for her only son. And it wasn't going to be a fun event, emptying out your son's room of everything that represented who he was and was going to be.
He imagined the pain of knowing that everything in that room lied perfectly where Midoriya left it, not knowing that he was going to die that day. That he thought he would be returning. But he wasn't and that tore at something in Todoroki.

He knew that he could speak to any of the others from his class, knowing that they were all going through the same thing, having been there and seen it happen. But he simply didn't want to. He didn't want to hear about how much everyone missed him and how horrible it was. He didn't want to hear about the what-ifs and the lost future. He didn't want to keep thinking about that one moment of Midoriya's body hitting the ground over and over again, letting him drown in guilt from knowing he could have done something to stop it.

The sound of his phone ringing cut through the silence of the dorms, and Todoroki would even admit that it made him jump in surprise. He didn't expect anyone to ring him, and he didn't realize he was so lost in his thoughts staring at the wooden door.