The Angel's Call - A My Hero Academia One-Shot

Mirai Sasaki didn't know what to expect when he let go. He wasn't sure if there was anything beyond in the first place. Would he awake to a pleasant breeze in the skies or a desolate layer of brimstone? When he closed his eyes that one last time, would he even think or dream?

What awaited him was something he didn't expect, though. He carefully slid out of his hospital bed and walked towards the clock on the wall. The clock read 11:44 PM. He notices that the room is dark, the curtains drawn, and the door closed. Looking down, he sees that his wounds have cleared up, and he is wearing his hero uniform instead of the gown he had on the last time he was awake.

"What is going on...?" The hero questioned nobody in particular. A soft chuckle in response broke the brief silence, though, as Mirai whips his head toward the noise.

In front of him stood a short man, no taller than 165 centimeters. His face looked like an old teenager's or a young adult's. Yet, his dark brown eyes gave way to an aura of wisdom and duty impossible for someone of a human lifespan. If that wasn't enough of a tell on its own, the man wore a short-sleeved black muscle shirt and green sweatpants. His right hand held a lazy grip on a scythe only slightly taller than its wielder. Four fluffy and feathery angel-like gray wings jutted out from his back, almost seeming to layer on one another. The soft smile the figure bore gave Mirai a sense of calm unlike any he's felt before. This man felt almost like a brotherly or a fatherly figure.

"Death is never what you expect it to be." The unknown man finally spoke. His tone is gentle and relatively soft as he walks toward Mirai. "Lord Dolos made sure of that for the sake of those who cross before you're supposed to."

Mirai's eyes widen at the name drop. "So the Greeks–"

The angelic figure held up a hand and shook his head. "Technically, most civilizations had it right to some degree. Of course, not all of your myths and legends are true, but most gods and goddesses do exist."

"So, who would you be, then?" Mirai can't help but ask.

"I'm a being separate from the gods. I am both their humble servant and their hierarchical superior. My true name is irrelevant, but you may call me Azrael, the Angel of Death."

Azrael gave Mirai another warm smile and held out his hand, which the former hero shook. "I take it you know who I am already?" He quips.

"It's my business to know, Mirai Sasaki." Azrael laughs, enjoying the man's humor.

"So I really am dead, then, aren't I?" He looks down at his form, once again inspecting it for any sign of the trauma that did him in.

"That is correct, Mirai," Azrael replied. "Your body was already carried away by the hospital staff; your current form is how your spirit manifested itself."

"I see," is all Mirai could respond with.

"It's never easy, especially when you have people who depended on you in some way and vice versa." Azrael places a hand on Mirai's shoulder. "If it helps, I can promise you they'll all do great. You did well."