And just like that the danger is past, and a roomful of eyes stare and stare and don’t look away. If anyone speaks then Izuku can’t hear it past the cotton wool in his ears and the high-pitched whining tone echoing in his brain. He pumps the brakes on his roaring panic, because homeroom is only ten minutes and he needs time. But it’s just like Sachi’s car, that mangled steel corpse left to rust on the beach—the lines are cut and Izuku is going to crash.

pitviperofdoom:

(Yesterday Upon the Stair, Chapter 28)

I’m a big fan of FMA. A lot of people are. And I read once, I think on some Tumblr post that’s been lost to the ages, that one of the many good things FMA did was refuse to forget about deceased characters. Characters that die stick with those that survive; Hughes for Mustang, Nina and Alexander for Ed and Al, and so on. They aren’t constantly on the characters’ minds, but every now and then they’re reminded of what they’ve lost, what they failed to save.

I wanted to capture that for YUTS Izuku, especially since death is such an integral part of his life. He’s full of stories, most of which he keeps locked in a box under his bed so he doesn’t forget the people he meets, the people he helps, the people who weren’t saved. He doesn’t stop thinking about them just because they happen to leave.