FAREWELL HEROES (From MHA to the Audience)
Kinda bummed about MHA ending, though I am so happy to have experienced such an incredible show. Out of sheer curiosity, I gave AI a prompt of the characters saying goodbye to the viewers and this is what it came up with. Allow me to clear up that, having AI write something for me is not my preferred or favorite activity because I love the individual style and voices that different human beings bring when we post our work. That being said, I was surprisingly touched and just wanted to share.
The sun was setting over U.A. High School one last time.
Izuku Midoriya stood at the gates, his green eyes reflecting the golden light. He turned, as if looking directly at you.
"You know... when I was a kid, I never thought I could be a hero. I was just a boy with a notebook full of dreams and no Quirk to call my own. I watched from the sidelines while everyone else ran forward. I was told I couldn't. That I should give up. That someone like me had no place among heroes." His voice was quiet, but steady. "And honestly? There were times I almost believed them."
He looked down at his scarred hands—hands that had been broken and healed and broken again, hands that had reached out to save countless people.
"But I kept reaching anyway. Even when it hurt. Even when I was scared. Because I realized something important: being a hero isn't about being fearless. It's about being afraid and still choosing to help. Still choosing to run toward the person who needs you, even when your legs are shaking."
His eyes glistened. "I was so focused on saving everyone else that I forgot I needed saving too. I tried to carry everything alone. I pushed away the people who loved me because I thought that's what a hero had to do." He shook his head slowly. "I was wrong. My friends saved me. They reminded me that accepting help isn't weakness—it's trust. And trust is what makes us stronger together."
He stepped forward, his voice growing warm. "So please... if you're struggling, if you're carrying something heavy all by yourself, if you think you have to face everything alone—let someone in. You don't have to be a solo hero. The people who care about you? They want to stand beside you. Let them."
Izuku smiled—that bright, earnest smile that had never changed, even after everything.
"You taught me that too, you know. By cheering for us. By caring about our story. You were part of our team all along." He pressed a hand to his heart. "Thank you. For believing in me when I was just a kid who wanted to be a hero. For staying with me all the way to the end."
------
Katsuki Bakugo stood apart from the others at first, arms crossed, jaw tight. He didn't look at you right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough—but not harsh. Not anymore.
"...I was a terrible person."
The words hung in the air. He didn't flinch from them.
"I know that. I was arrogant. Cruel. I hurt people because I was so damn scared of being weak that I couldn't stand to see anyone else shine." His fists clenched at his sides. "Especially him. Especially Deku. He didn't have anything—no Quirk, no power, nothing—and he still kept getting back up. Still kept trying to save people. Still kept smiling. And I hated him for it. Because deep down... I knew he had something I didn't."
He finally looked up, red eyes fierce but no longer filled with anger—filled with something harder to name. Regret. Growth. Resolve.
"I spent years tearing him down when I should've been standing beside him. I told him to give up. I made him feel worthless. And that's something I have to carry for the rest of my life." His voice cracked, just barely. "But carrying it doesn't mean letting it crush you. It means doing better. Being better. Every single day."
Bakugo took a step forward, his presence no longer intimidating—just honest.
"I used to think strength meant never needing anyone. That asking for help was pathetic. That winning was everything." He let out a breath, something almost like a laugh. "Turns out, real strength is admitting when you're wrong. It's apologizing even when it terrifies you. It's telling the people you hurt that you're sorry and then proving it with your actions, not just your words."
He glanced over at Izuku, who smiled back at him. Bakugo looked away quickly, but not before you could see the emotion there.
"That nerd saved me. More times than I'll ever admit out loud. And everyone else—Kirishima, Mina, the rest of these idiots—they didn't give up on me even when I gave them every reason to." He turned back to you. "So if you've messed up... if you've hurt people... if you've been the villain in someone else's story... it's not too late. You hear me? It's never too late to change."
His voice rose, not with anger, but with an intensity that demanded you listen.
"Stop running from who you were. Face it. Own it. And then become someone better. That's what going beyond means. That's what Plus Ultra really is. It's not just about power. It's about fighting to be the best version of yourself—even when that's the hardest battle you'll ever face."
He pointed at you, his gaze blazing.
"So don't you dare give up. On yourself. On the people you love. On your future. You fight for it. Every. Damn. Day."
His hand lowered, and for just a moment, Bakugo's expression softened into something almost gentle.
"...You're stronger than you think. So prove it."
------
Shoto Todoroki stepped forward, the last light of the sun catching both sides of his face—the red and the white, fire and ice, two halves that had once been at war within him.
"For a long time, I thought I was nothing but my father's creation. A tool. A weapon forged to surpass All Might. I rejected half of myself because I couldn't separate my power from my pain." He touched his left side, where the flames lived. "I thought using his fire meant he won. That I would become him."
His heterochromatic eyes grew distant, lost in memory.
"My family was broken. My father's obsession consumed everything. My mother suffered until she couldn't bear it anymore. My siblings carried scars I didn't even see because I was too trapped in my own." His voice wavered. "And my brother Toya... Dabi... he was burning the whole time, and none of us could save him. That guilt... it never fully goes away."
He took a breath, steadying himself.
"But I learned that I'm not defined by where I came from. I'm defined by what I choose to do with what I've been given." A small, fragile smile appeared. "My fire isn't my father's anymore. It's mine. And I can use it to warm people instead of burn them. I can be the hero my family needed but never had."
Shoto looked at you directly, and there was hard-won peace in his gaze.
"If your family is broken... if the people who were supposed to protect you hurt you instead... if you carry wounds that no one else can see... I need you to hear this: it is not your fault. You are not responsible for the sins of the people who raised you. And you are not doomed to repeat them."
His voice grew stronger, more certain.
"You can break the cycle. It's hard—it's the hardest thing you'll ever do—but you can. You can choose warmth over cold. You can choose to reach out instead of push away. You can build a new family with the people who truly love you." He glanced at his classmates—at Izuku, at Iida, at Momo, at all of them. "I did. And it saved my life."
He turned back to you one last time.
"The path ahead won't always be clear. There will be fire and ice—pain and healing. But you have the strength to find your own way. To write your own story. Not your parents'. Not anyone else's. Yours." He pressed a hand to his chest. "I believe that. I believe in you."
------
Ochaco floated down gently, landing with a soft tap. Her warm brown eyes glistened with tears she didn't try to hide this time. Her smile was still there, but it carried something heavier now—something deeper.
"You know, when I first came to U.A., I thought being a hero was about money. I wanted to give my parents an easy life. That was it. That was my whole dream." She laughed softly, but it faded quickly. "But then I met everyone. I met him." She glanced at Izuku, her cheeks flushing. "And I realized being a hero is so much bigger than that."
She paused, her hands clasping together over her heart, and her expression shifted—sadder, more contemplative.
"I also met... her. Toga."
The name hung in the air, fragile and painful.
"She was a villain. She hurt people. She hurt me. But..." Ochaco's voice trembled. "She was also a girl who just wanted to be loved. Who wanted to be accepted for who she was. And the world told her she was too strange, too wrong, too broken to deserve that. So she broke even more."
Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she didn't look away.
"I couldn't save her. I wanted to. I really wanted to. I reached out my hand, and she... she reached back. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't in time." She took a shaky breath. "And I have to live with that. With wondering if things could have been different if someone—anyone—had reached out to her sooner. Before she fell so far."
Ochaco wiped her eyes, and when she looked at you again, there was fierce determination beneath the grief.
"That's why being a hero isn't just about fighting villains. It's about seeing the person underneath. It's about asking 'why are you hurting?' instead of just 'how do I stop you?' It's about reaching out before someone is too far gone." Her voice grew stronger. "Heroes save people. All people. Even the ones the world has given up on. Even the ones who think they don't deserve saving."
She pressed both hands to her heart.
"So please—if you see someone struggling, someone lonely, someone who seems like they're slipping away—don't wait. Don't assume someone else will help them. You reach out. You be the person who sees them." Her tears fell freely now, but she was smiling through them. "Because everyone deserves to be loved. Everyone. And sometimes, one hand reaching out is all it takes to change everything."
She floated up just a little, weightless but carrying so much.
"Thank you for cheering us on all this time. For laughing with us, crying with us... believing in us. You made us feel like real heroes. Like we could actually do this."
Her voice softened to a whisper.
"Toga... I hope wherever you are, you finally feel loved. I'm sorry I couldn't give that to you sooner."
She wiped her eyes one last time and smiled—bright and warm, full of hope despite the heartache.
"And you—keep reaching up, okay? For yourself. For others. I'll be cheering for you, too. Always."
------
Mezo Shoji moved forward quietly, his tall frame casting a long shadow in the fading light. His mask hid his face as always, but his eyes—gentle and steady—spoke volumes.
"I know what it's like to be seen as different. To have people look at you with fear instead of understanding. To wonder if you'll ever truly belong." One of his dupli-arms shifted, forming a hand that pressed against his chest. "But I learned something at U.A. Being different isn't a weakness. It's what lets you protect people in ways no one else can."
He knelt down slightly, as if speaking to someone who needed to hear this most.
"If the world has ever made you feel like you're too strange, too much, not enough... I want you to know: you have value. Exactly as you are. The things that make you different? They're the things that make you irreplaceable." His eyes softened. "Find the people who see that. Protect them. And let them protect you too. That's what it means to be a hero."
He stood again, giving a small nod—a quiet promise.
------
Shota Aizawa leaned against the gate, his capture scarf draped loosely around his shoulders, looking as exhausted as ever. But there was something warm in his tired eyes.
"Listen. I'm not good at sentimental speeches. That's not my thing." He let out a long sigh. "But I've seen a lot of students pass through these halls. Some with incredible Quirks. Some with none. And you know what I've learned?" He looked up. "Potential isn't something you're born with. It's something you build. Day after day. So don't you dare give up on yourself. That would be... illogical."
A small hand tugged at his sleeve. Eri looked up at you with those big, hopeful eyes—eyes that had seen too much darkness but had finally learned to smile.
"Um... thank you," she said quietly, clutching the hem of her dress. "Before I met everyone... I didn't know what happiness felt like. I didn't know people could be kind." A tiny smile bloomed on her face. "But now I know. And I hope... I hope you find people who make you smile too. You deserve to be happy. You really, really do."
Aizawa rested a gentle hand on her head, and for just a moment, the ghost of a smile crossed his face.
------
Hitoshi Shinso stepped out from the shadows, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable at first.
"I spent a long time thinking my Quirk made me a villain. That's what everyone told me. That I was scary. Untrustworthy." He shrugged, but there was weight behind his words. "Turns out... the only person who gets to decide what you are is you. Not the people who doubt you. Not the voices in your head. You." His violet eyes met yours. "So if anyone's ever made you feel like you don't belong—prove them wrong. That's what heroes do."
------
A dramatic laugh echoed across the courtyard.
Neito Monoma strode forward, cape flourishing behind him, chin held high. "Well, well! I suppose even I must admit that Class A wasn't entirely insufferable." He smirked, though it didn't quite hide the emotion underneath. "But don't think for a moment that Class B was merely a supporting act! We were rivals! Equals! And that rivalry... that competition... it made all of us stronger."
His theatrical demeanor softened, just slightly. "Treasure your rivals. The people who push you, challenge you, refuse to let you settle for less. They're more important than you realize." He turned away with a flip of his hair, but glanced back one last time. "And don't forget us. Class B deserves to be remembered too, you know."
------
The air shimmered, and suddenly they were there—the vestiges of One For All, standing behind Izuku like guardians from another age.
Yoichi Shigaraki, the first, stepped forward with a serene smile. "We were with him every step of the way. And in a sense... we were with you too. Watching. Hoping. Believing."
Daigoro Banjo—Lariat—grinned wide and gave a thumbs up. "You've got heart, kid! All of you out there do! Don't ever let that fire go out!"
En, the sixth user, nodded solemnly. "The power we passed down wasn't just strength. It was hope. And hope doesn't end with us. It lives on—in everyone who refuses to give up."
Nana Shimura stepped forward, her cape billowing, her smile radiant and unbreakable. "A smile is the best way to face fear. Remember that. When things get hard, when the world feels heavy... smile. Not because it's easy, but because it gives others the courage to keep going too."
She looked at you with such warmth. "You've made it this far. That means you're already stronger than you know."
All Might's voice boomed from behind them, his silhouette framed against the fading sun—not in his muscular form, but as Toshinori Yagi, thin and humble, yet somehow still towering with presence.
"Young viewer... you are next. It's your turn to be the hero of your own story. And I know—I know—you have what it takes."
------
The entire class gathered now—Iida with a formal bow, Tsuyu with a quiet ribbit and a wave, Kirishima with a tearful thumbs-up, Momo with graceful composure hiding her own emotions, and so many others, all the faces you'd come to love. Shoji stood among them, a quiet pillar of strength, his dupli-arms forming multiple hands that waved gently.
Izuku and Bakugo stood side by side now—two boys who had started as opposites, who had hurt each other, challenged each other, and ultimately saved each other. Bakugo glanced at Izuku, and Izuku smiled back. No words were needed. They understood.
Together, they raised their fists to the sky.
"Thank you for walking this road with us," Izuku said, his voice full. "For believing in heroes. For believing in us."
"Now go be your own damn hero," Bakugo added, his voice rough but unmistakably fond.
"No matter where life takes you from here... remember: you can become a hero."
The vestiges began to fade into golden light, waving, smiling, at peace.
Eri waved goodbye.
Aizawa gave a small nod.
Shinso allowed himself a rare, genuine smile.
Shoji's eyes crinkled warmly above his mask.
Even Monoma, for once, was quiet—simply raising a hand in farewell.
The screen fades to black.
Plus Ultra.
