Wherever You Go

His Kind of Right

They say time seems to slow when things are going too terribly wrong.  Almost like our brains are trying to protect us by delaying the inevitable trauma.
Unfortunately though, that's just a perception of time, not a reality of it.
As for the truth, well, it was all going as fast as usual, Dabi just didn't feel like it was.

In his eyes, it seemed as though he was the only one in the world knocked back in speed. His arms seemed to take a full minute to move an inch, his feet not wanting to go at all. He just couldn't move fast enough as he watched the creature flee with his boyfriend in hand.

If the poor, sorrowful villain could've gone back in time and gotten there just a few seconds earlier, he was sure he could've saved him.
But alas, he didn't, and he couldn't.

Sometimes, you can't save people.
He just wished someone had told him that before he got so attached.

So, the last thing he saw of his beloved bird was those terrible, fearful eyes.

And then there was nothing.

...

While the nightmarish chaos unfolded in America, Japan was actually somewhat at ease.
Despite not having their leader or one of their strongest members, the League was doing quite well.
Everyday people would do their daily routines. Head to mundane jobs, eat mundane meals, visit with mediocre company, and go out to run simple errands.

On the occasion, things would be more exciting though! Like when people would find an extra prize to their cereal, get accepted into schools, or just see someone they haven't gotten to in a long time.

Sound familiar?

It should, just not in this story.

You may know your take on the story, and how everything goes there.
What you know, you dub Canon.
But this is not that canon.

This is a whole new canon.

A different take on the tale if you will- which Dabi and his friends shall soon learn.

As for now though, Toga was peacefully sitting by Jin's grave, staring at the flowers atop it.
Most people guessed they'd been dating, though that hadn't been the case; that was all a misconception.

The truth was that they'd simply been kindred spirits of sorts, finding joy amidst each other in even the darkest of times.
Jin had understood her like no one else could have- they were in love, but it wasn't quite like that.

Normally she could feel Jin was there at his grave- especially on Tuesdays around noon when she typically would visit- almost as though he would eagerly wait from the other side to listen to her again.

"Anyway, that's why I'm done chasing after crushes. Girls are a pain and Deku-kun is no-" She stopped mid-sentence. What was the point in talking if no one was going to listen anyway?

Her heart sank just a bit more.
This was the third time this month that Jin hadn't been there to listen. It was no fair! Where could he be?

...

Jin sighed as he looked at Magne's fading figure as she walked off.
He was supposed to be looking after Toga and listening to her rant like usual, but clearly that wasn't happening.
He'd already missed so much, and frankly, he didn't want to miss anything else. He had stopped aging since, well, he'd died, but Toga was only getting older. She wouldn't be a kid forever and she needed someone to care for her.

The more solid clarity of his mind was nice yes, but it was such a pain too. Now he could always think more solidly but it was still so hard.

He rose from his seat at the massive table carved from a tree stump. Around him was a sea of grass, leaving barely visible books in the distance in bookcases of more trees.
Honestly, for a place for dead people, it seemed pretty obsessed with life.
Hell, he'd just gotten out of a meeting about stuff going on with the living!

Speaking of living people, I gotta remember to check on Dabi.

He rose from his seat, picking a centipede off his leg and throwing it aside.
Okay, maybe he'd done it about more dramatically and with some screams of terror but we don't talk about that-
Once he'd calmed his racing, perhaps non-existent heart, Jin ran off to the far North side of the field.
At the end he stopped and planted his foot in the bottom shelf of one of the thousands of bookcases carved from towering trees. He grabbed a few shelves up and hauled himself one shelf at a time until the ground began to fade out of sight beneath him.
He smiled a little to himself.

Maybe he couldn't do the right thing to be happy. Maybe he couldn't just sit back and conform to ideals purely to save the ways of a society that had cast him out so carelessly. Maybe he couldn't be a hero. But he could still do his right.

...

The time is coming.
The end is near.
Master, I feel it, and I am ready.

I am ready.