Mha Bnha Anime One Shots

The Rain - Kirishima Ejirou

The rain had soaked through my coat long before we reached the gates.

The sky was a grey and black and the water clung to every strand of my hair, running down my face like tears I couldn't allow myself to shed. Maybe that was fitting. No one would be able to tell what was rain and what was grief. Maybe that made it easier for everyone to keep it together. Maybe that was mercy.

But I wasn't sure if I wanted to.

The ground squelched beneath my boots, the mud sucking at the soles like it wanted to pull me down with him as I followed the slow procession toward the plot.

Ahead of me, the coffin moved slowly. His coffin. Carried by six pairs of hands.

Mina had one of the handles. She was biting her lip so hard I thought it might bleed. Her shoulders shook as she walked, her knees bending just slightly as though the weight of the wood and the man inside was too much. It probably was.

He would've laughed at that. I could hear him now, his voice so clear it felt like he was standing beside me.

"Don't worry, Mina." He would've said, grinning, his sharp teeth on full display. "I'm pretty heavy, but you're strong enough for this."

I closed my eyes, trying to shake the memory loose, but his voice wouldn't leave me. It hadn't stopped echoing in my head since we got the news.

I didn't want to be here.

When you grow up with people, like we did, you don't expect them to disappear. You see them at every stage of life: graduation from UA, first Pro Hero gigs, late night ramen after patrols, clumsy weddings, and kids who would grow up together just like you did.

That was supposed to be us. All of us. Together.

No one told me that heroes didn't get that luxury.

The world had made a liar out of him. Out of all of us.

I stared at the polished black surface of the coffin as it reached the edge of the grave. It seemed too small to hold everything he was. He had been larger than life, someone who filled every space he walked into with warmth and energy.

Now he was here. In this box.

I stared at it, my chest tightening. I wondered if they'd let him keep his red hero gear on. He'd have hated the idea of being buried in anything boring. Would they have put him in a plain black suit?

I couldn't stop picturing him lying there.

I glanced around at the people I once thought of as family. Everyone from Class 1-A was there, scattered like broken pieces of a picture that no one could ever put back together.

Shoto was the one who stood closest to the headstone. His expression was as cold and unreadable as ever, but his fists were clenched so tight I thought his nails might draw blood. He didn't move, didn't flinch.

Mina had folded into Denki's side, her small frame trembling as her sobs broke through the sound of the rain. Her cries were muffled against Denki's chest, his arms wrapped around her in a feeble attempt to shield her from a pain no one could protect her from.

Uraraka and Deku stood next to each other. She held onto his arm like it was the only thing keeping her upright, her fingers digging into his sleeve. He whispered something to her, his voice too low to hear, but she shook her head and buried her face in his shoulder.

And then there was Bakugou.

I couldn't stop staring at him. He stood apart from everyone else. He hadn't moved since the ceremony began.