Chapter Text
Like with most events in his life, it all started during lunch with Naomasa.
That is, of course, not to say that the things that follow lunch was necessarily bad, or even the event of ‘lunch with Naomasa’ being a huge event in of itself. No, almost every lunch he had with his friend was a good lunch (there was, of course, times when the lunch was bad, but only two come to mind, the one that ended in a highway car chase and the other being that his food was burnt), it’s just the thing that Toshinori can pinpoint as the very start of most of his life changing events the in last decade or so. He could hardly be blamed if it’s the same thing every time.
Or, maybe he can?
But that’s beside the point.
Like with most events in his life, it all started during lunch with Naomasa, and for this particular life changing event, lunch just so happens to be a strawberry pre-workout smoothie in a small café, on what must have been the wettest Tuesday to have happened since the glowing baby. While it was raining (pouring, chucking it down, coming down in cats and dogs, really, he should have gone to Britain instead of the Americas while abroad, if only for their vast language when it comes to the weather), it wasn’t particularly cold in any sense of the word. And yet, his entire body ached, and it ached more knowing that the warm drink that Naomasa had (a large latte with extra espresso and a single shot of caramel syrup) would only make his pain worse.
So, he sucked it up and sucked up some more of his smoothie.
It was delicious, really. And powdery since he had run out of milk whilst making it.
He should really pick up some more after lunch.
“So, what are you doing now that you’re reduced to part time hours?” Naomasa said as he picked at his salad somewhat, moving a tomato from one side of the plate to the other.
“Part time?” Toshinori asked, using his straw to mix the smoothie up, hoping to break up a large clump of powder to no avail. The paper straws really weren’t it, but metal didn’t work at all for drinks like this. Maybe he would have to invest on a glass straw of some kind? He did have a small fear of biting down on it, and it breaking in his mouth, but if it was that big of an issue then they wouldn’t sell them, so maybe he should suck up that fear too.
“Well, you can only be Big Might™ for, what, five hours a day? And I know that your doctor said that you shouldn’t be doing more than twenty hours a week, which you have been ignoring by the way.” Naomasa levelled a small glare at him with this, muttering things about ‘retirement’ and ‘taking a break’, both of which Toshinori easily pushed away. Another thought for another life changing lunch.
“Yes, I can only be All Might for five hours a day, and I really wish you would stop calling it Big Might™.” Toshinori muttered under his breath, just as his straw finally gave out and collapsed on itself. He made sure to fish it out of the smoothie before it completely disintegrated, though he was certain that it would add at least a little extra something to the bland meal. Nothing like soggy paper at one in the afternoon after all. “What about it?”
“Well, I was just wondering what you were doing with yourself now you had so much spare time on your hands,” Naomasa said, attempting to finally stab the tomato to eat, only for it to go flying off his plate and underneath someone’s chair. Neither mention the tomato and its final journey, now or ever again.
Another tomato lost to the world.
Toshinori sighed as he slightly shook at his drink, frowning as it barely moved from the sides of his cup. Maybe he should eat it with a spoon? It was certainly thick enough for it, and maybe pretending it was a smoothie bowl instead of a normal drink would make it more palatable? And maybe then he would be able to pretend he was having an actual meal with his friend instead of having yet more signs that he would never be the man he used to be, the hero he was still presented as?
Because, despite the fact that he had more time on his hands, he didn’t do anything with it at all. Ignoring the fact that he never really had a hobby before becoming a hero, and therefore not really having anything to go back to now that he couldn’t be a hero (so he knows that he’s still a hero, and that even when he can’t be All Might any more, he will still be a hero to his fans and to the people he saved, but there are some days where he stares out his apartment window, or checks the news on his phone, or walks home at night and hears a scream, he can’t help but think that he can’t be a hero anymore, and could never be one in the first place). In all honestly, and therefore the following is not something he was going to admit aloud to himself, let alone to Naomasa, he spends the time not as All Might moping.
It’s almost pathetic, really, how much time he spends sitting on his sofa in his penthouse apartment, staring at his wall and thinking about it all. About all the people he’s not going to be able to save now, about how differently things could have gone if he had just acted in this way or moved in that way. The thoughts follow him like persistent shadows, darkening every corner of his life and screaming at him when he’s all alone again.
“You need a new hobby.” Naomasa said, bringing Toshinori out of his thoughts. There’s perhaps a leaf or two missing from the salad now, but when the entire plate was made with greens on top of greens, with only a couple of things to add colour, it was hard to tell if he had eaten anything at all.
“I don’t need a hobby.” Toshinori argued, taking a sip of the smoothie but unable to hide his reaction as he got a lump of powder in his mouth.
“Ah yes, because your hobby of making yourself inedible smoothies is doing so well for you,” Naomasa snarked, before placing his fork down, having given up on pretending to eat at all. “How many times have I told you this? Even before the incident, I told you that you needed to make more friends.”
Not this argument again.
Well, it’s not much of an argument than a recurring conversation between the pair of them. Naomasa mentions his friends, or there lack of, and he responds with the completely reasonable response of ‘I don’t have time to make new friends’ or ‘it’s too dangerous to be getting close to civilians’. All very sensible in Toshinori’s eyes of course, but after the death of All for One, well, it just doesn’t hold up like it used to.
“But-”
“I’m gonna stop you right there. You don’t have to meet people in person to be friends with them, you know that right?”
“What do you mean?”
“You do know what social media is, right?”
“Of course I know what social media is!” Toshinori said indigenously, “I have an account on every platform, I’m pretty sure.”
“All Might has an account on every platform.” Naomasa corrected kindly. “Yagi Toshinori, however, does not.”
Toshinori didn’t answer, instead taking a large mouthful of the smoothie so that he had an excuse not to respond.
Of course, he instantly regretted his decision when it hit the back of his throat in the wrong way, causing him to cough. He pretended that he didn’t feel the metallic taste of his own blood as he reached for a napkin to wipe the corners of his mouth with.
“Look, I can’t exactly force you to do anything, but you must be going insane sitting in your apartment watching the news and thinking of ways to help.” Toshinori frowned at his friend’s words, knowing them to be correct. How many nights has he been lying awake, listening to the news, and wondering how many more people he could be saving if not for the limits of his own body. “I’ve got to head off back to work, but I’ll send you a couple sites when I get in. Just… Think about it, please?”
Toshinori nodded and wished Naomasa well as he watched him walk out into the terrible weather, his friend’s umbrella being blown away as soon as he left the establishment. While the sight of watching his friend run after the umbrella was funny, the smile left his face as soon as he’s out of sight, leaving him with a half finished, inedible protein shake, and a sour taste in his mouth that had nothing to do with blood.
It couldn’t hurt to try, right?