Toshinori has been here before.
There’s a man, desperate and angry and dangerous for it.
He has a knife, which has never been great in Toshinori's experience.
Really, it isn’t that unusual.
It’s just usually Toshinori isn’t the one being threatened, or if he is it’s a desperate act of last resort.
He knows he looks weak in this form, an easy target.
He can’t be All Might, here. There’s no slipping away and his time is up anyway.
It’s frustrating but it’s the way of things.
He’s getting tired.
He’s getting slow.
He wonders absently if All For One ever feels like this.
Toshinori tries to focus, fumbles for his wallet.
A flash of green catches his attention and he’s too experienced to do anything as dangerous as startle.
The man shakes his knife in a threat again and Toshinori makes an appeasing gesture, smiles nervously as he tries to catch the movement a second time out of the corner of his eye.
It’s a child.
Toshinori isn’t great with ages anymore but if he’s looking at a teenager it’s a rather young one.
They smile and it’s an attempt at reassurance. He doesn’t smile back, doesn’t react beyond snapping his attention back to the man holding the knife. He can’t risk the kid, regardless of how the kid seems intent on risking himself.
The moment of inattention was enough it seems.
The knife moves, unsteady but no less deadly for it.
An arm shoots out before Toshinori can formulate his response, yanks the knife back and redirects the weight of the movement into the wall next to him.
It is, he notes distantly, a well executed maneuver.
He looks over at the crumpled figure, knocked out on the pavement.
He glances up.
“Um, a-are you alright?” The kid asks.
Toshinori nods slowly, takes a deep breath.
“That was incredibly dangerous, young man!” He scolds, relieved that they’re both well enough he can do that.
“S-sorry.” The kid ducks his head, sheepish.
“Izu-chan!” Toshinori turns and finds even more children. These are at least smart enough to hang back, phones in hand.
“We’re fine!” He calls back. “Did you call?”
“Yeah!” One answers. “Your dad’s on shift, you know?”
“Yeah…” The kid cringes, “How did you know?”
“Tsukauchi-san?” They check with their companion. “Right, Tsukauchi-san says he’s coming over.”
They start walking over, the shorter child steals the would-be thief’s shoelaces and ties him to a dumpster before joining them.
The taller one roughly tussles Toshinori’s rescuer’s hair with a grin.
“Damn, you’re screwed.”
“No…” ‘Izu-chan’ groans into his hands.
“Language.” Young people these days, honestly.
“Sorry.” The kid grins up at him, he does not look sorry. “Seriously though, you good?”
“I’m-” any response is lost as Toshinori devolves into a coughing fit.
“‘Toshi! Is he alright?”
“How should I know?”
“He’s bleeding!”
“I can see that Izuku!”
“There’s no blood on the knife.”
“Where’s it coming from then?!”
“A quirk?”
“I’m fine.” He manages to get out, flapping an arm out in reassurance.
“Are you sure?” All three look incredibly skeptical.
Izuku is holding himself like he might jump forward to steady him at any moment, which is sweet.
“I’m sure.” He takes a careful breath, hoping to stave off a second attack. “Thank you for your assistance.”
Toshinori considers how to caution them from trying this again, it was incredibly reckless.
“Yamada Izuku.” It carries just enough that all four of them jump.
“Hi…” Yamada Izuku tries his best to hide behind his friends.
Present Mic pulls him out from behind them easily and into a gentle hug.
“What did we say about vigilante activity?” He sighs.
“Uhhh, that it doesn’t really apply to me?” Yamada smiles up at him hopefully.
“We most certainly did not say that.” Present Mic counters. “Hypothetical legal discussions with a troublemaker are not permission and you know he’ll agree with me.”
Yamada grumbles something Toshinori can’t make out and returns the hug.
“I know you couldn’t.” Present Mic’s expression goes surprisingly soft and he smiles. “You’re a good kid.”
He feels out of place all of a sudden, like he shouldn’t be here.
Present Mic lets his… son? go after another moment and snaps into a professionalism Toshinori can’t help but respect.
He has Toshinori reassured and the children scolded and the perpetrator properly arrested in record time.
Toshinori leaves things to him, feeling distinctly useless in the moment.
He sits on the curb with a bottle of water helpfully provided by Present Mic after the children expressed concern for his health and watches the world go by.
They would make good heroes.
He takes a small sip.
The water settles cool on his tongue.
The quiet care of a new generation.
He hopes he gets to see it someday.