Chapter Text
It was a hell of a way to die.
Just a few hours ago, you had been sitting lazily on the subway.
You'd been idly scrolling on your phone whilst listening to the Bokurano by Eve, ignoring the idiots blowing vape directly into your face (a crime punishable by death), when the train you'd been sitting on jolted suddenly, drawing you attention away from your battered phone screen and towards the window opposite you. People murmured for a second before passing it off as a minor bump in the tracks. Your tired eyes flitted across the train car for a moment though, something just felt wrong, as if everything was a touch out of place. You set your phone in your pocket and took your earbuds back in their case, just incase. And sure enough, another whine and a bump occurred.
Then it happened again, but more violent.
Once again, friend groups tried to laugh it off and businessmen chuckled their concern away, but then the train had began shaking- rocking back and forth and back again. You clutched at the seat's sides as the train's turbulence threw people off their balance. People started screaming along with the train when the lights suddenly shut off, leaving everyone in pitch black.
Your backpack flew from your hands and you yelped when it seemingly thudded into one of the other passengers, your metal water bottle ringing as it collided with the roof. Similarly, you were thrust from your seat as the train tipped to its side. Your mind spiralled as all sounds conjoined into one reverberating squeal.
Bodies on bodies hit each other, crashing flesh on bones and definitely squishing some unlucky people under the high speed mass. The sickening squelch of people left your stomach even more tossed than before and you struggled to keep the bile down as you clambered over the mangled groups. At one point you saw a stroller overturned, breathing a sigh of relief when you found it was only filled with cans. Eventually, you separated yourself from the mess as much as possible, your back pressed against the harsh edges of the railway tunnel you'd found yourself stranded in.
Your head hurt tremendously and you were sure you had some sort of concussion. Staring down at your hands and finding four did not help.
Your vision was blurred and your face was wet with sweat and blood and your leg felt like it had been torn off and your mind couldn't process this and you were so tired and-
"H-Hey, are you good?"
A tentative voice called from the darkness, his voice coarse, you could only see his slight silhouette against a small white light emanating from the train. From your angle he looked like the pure essence of an angel no, hero. Just his aura calmed your aching mind, allowing a fragment of hope to fuel you to stagger up into a standing position.
For the next hour and a half, you helped this unnamed godsend collect other wounded civilians from rubble and body piles. You realised the deafening pain in your right leg was due to it literally being partially torn off, but stubborn motivation to help led you to push through until you couldn't handle the pain any longer.
That had led you into the half-assed fetal position you lay in now.
You figure this is your deathbed.
Dying fucking sucks. And now that the delusional hero-complex fog has cleared it's way out of your mind you finally have time to actually think. Thoughts such as; 'What the hell just happened?' 'Where the hell am I right now?' 'Why was that baby stroller filled with canned beans?' and-
'Am I happy with my life?'.
The latter being quite the bummer. It's not like your ever did anything or put in the effort to. You just never found any reason to try hard at school seeing as you had no-one at home to impress, and with mediocre grades and eyebags that could carry your shopping, you weren't exactly the model worker. No life, no friends, no loved ones, just customer service and a Crunchyrolls subscription.
'Would anybody even remember you existed?'
That one hurt. Not that you wanted compensation for your actions, but due to the dim lighting in the tunnel, none of the people you rescued would remember your face and the mystery man that you'd met earlier would've probably already forgotten you.
If only there was something you could do, just to let your memory linger in one singular person's mind after your rapidly approaching end.
Then you remember your driver's license.
Hastily, you dig through your pockets and take out your cracked phone, Sanrio earbuds and finally your license.
"Hey! Please, does anybody- anybody have a p-pen or a pencil I can borrow. Please," you call out into the pressing darkness, fumbling to sit up straighter.
A man- the same holy ass man, stumbles over to you, taking out a generic Bic pen and holding it out to you with trembling fingers.
You grab it quickly, putting the last of your energy into filling out the organ declaration section on the reverse side of your driver's license. His eyes widen with realisation as you hand the pen back, and he takes out his to do the same.
Suddenly, the hordes of survivors that you hadn't noticed around you began to copy your actions in the dark, pens passed around as all adults fumbled with their licenses in sync.
An odd surge of pride filled you heart and you smile.
You strain your body one last time to put your earbuds in, laughing quietly to yourself as you realised the only music you'd downloaded was the My Hero Academia opening: Odd Future.
Ironic.