"The fucking balls on you."

Aizawa had been expecting the insult. He was less prepared for Yaoyorozu Asao to grab him by the back of the neck as he drove his knee into his gut. Aizawa grunted, the wind knocked out of him, and he wheezed in a noisy breath. Aizawa grabbed onto the corner of Yaoyorozu's desk to stay on his feet from the cheap shot.

Kobayashi shoved a desk behind Aizawa, hitting him in the back of the knees and forcing him to take a seat. In front of him, Yaoyorozu had drawn his tie from beneath the collar of his suit and wrapped it over his knuckles.

"You've got one chance — one chance — to make this right," Yaoyorozu warned. "If anything comes out of your mouth besides that you're here to marry my daughter, then you're not leaving here at all."

Had he not been wheezing, Aizawa might have laughed. Every next thought happened in a split second, all at once. Each layered over the other in a chord.

If she weren't a child, he might have considered it. Yaoyorozu Asao had wealth and reach, and he had his Yakuza roots to raise himself upon — there would be little better solidification of power than to meld bloodlines and bring dynasties to meet.

Yaoyorozu didn't even know Aizawa was Danchou; the man couldn't imagine what he was offering, and who he was offering it to. Yaoyorozu assumed to gloss over the seediness of the accusations by pairing a respected Pro Hero to a Pro Hero-in-training, when he'd be laying himself prone before none other than Danchou.

But Aizawa could not gloss over it. Even though he legally could marry the girl, she was still a child. Nothing but time could change that. To marry her, no matter what his personal ambitions were, would be an admission of guilt. It would be laying truth into the words held against his temple. His pride would not permit it, even if he stood to gain.

Aizawa put his hands on his knees, drawing himself up even as his lungs protested. One chance, Yaoyorozu had said.

"I have the full tape," Aizawa said. "It's not what you've been told. I have not dishonored your daughter."

He looked up at Yaoyorozu, gaze steady, and the man snatched him up by the front of his button-up shirt.

"Frisk him," Yaoyorozu ordered.

"Right breast pocket," Aizawa said as Kobayashi's hands tapped down him, looking for it. He found the flash drive exactly where Aizawa told him it would be and handed it over to his boss.

Aizawa stayed seated. He didn't try to get up or speak, instead watching as Yaoyorozu crossed to plug it into his television then loaded the file. The lines in Yaoyorozu's forehead deepened as the video began to play.

Yaoyorozu emerging from the crowd alongside the wall, looking back over her shoulder, and then he came through behind her. There it was — the moment that had been framed so salaciously. When he pinned her against the wall. Hands on either side of her head, knee between her legs. But then the video continued on. He was close, but Aizawa hoped that Yaoyorozu could read his posture on the screen. Then the moment as Momo left, with nothing more between them. Aizawa let his eyes go to Momo's father as the video looped and began to play again. Again. Again.

"I was on a mission in the nightclub," Aizawa began, cautiously, still watching the man in case his hackles raised. "I saw Momo there and pursued her, and approached her the way I did to maintain my cover. The encounter you're watching, we exchanged words. I told her I was on a mission and that she needed to leave the venue. She complied."

"Who is responsible for the blackmail leveraged on my family?" Yaoyorozu asked without looking back.

"I did investigate that. It was a former student at UA who I expelled, who worked at the club."

"And what's being done about them?"

"They've been charged — and their assets frozen. I will personally oversee the money being returned to you."

Whatever accounts Goro had, Aizawa would find them. He would fulfill that promise, man to man.

"I want this handled quietly," Yaoyorozu said, turning to look at him at long last. His dark eyes were still firm and cold, calculating, but the anger had ebbed.

"My mission was an undercover one, and a public hearing would compromise my mission's integrity. I assure you it will be quiet. I understand, better than anyone, the desire for privacy. It is a disgusting accusation to have slung against me, and I take the insult personally."

"How did you hear about this?"

"From your daughter. Please don't be cross with her — she contacted me to tell me what had happened, in the hopes that I could help resolve it. For everyone's sakes."

Yaoyorozu lowered himself into his chair behind his desk, and Aizawa at last let himself relax and straighten his clothes. Yaoyorozu gestured at Kobayashi.

"Will you find my wife."

Kobayashi nodded and left, excusing himself, and leaving the two men alone. Yaoyorozu unbuttoned his sleeves and pushed them up his forearms, revealing his tattoos. Aizawa covered his smirk with one hand and kept his comments to himself. When Yaoyorozu's wife had joined them, Aizawa reiterated his lie, and Momo's mother was less reserved with her relief.

"I will update you as the case progresses," Aizawa said at last, rising to his feet. "Hero to Hero, I want to put this disgusting behind us. As far as the issue of Yaoyorozu transferring…"

Yaoyorozu and his wife exchanged a glance.

"I am unsure that it is best for her to continue at UA, regardless of this," her father admitted. "The things that have been happening are concerning. I fear for the future of our profession."

"Your daughter is nothing short of brilliant. She should be a Hero," Aizawa half lied.

It would be both regretful and a relief if Momo left not just UA, but Hero courses as a whole. She looked and she would be formidable. Better that she never sit in a seat of power where she could choose to hunt him down with the knowledge she had. Better that, should her conscience one day get the best of her, Yaoyorozu Momo be limited in her efforts. She had already shown she was someone he did not want investigating him.

Footsteps interrupted his thoughts. Aizawa and Yaoyorozu both looked to the door.

Momo was there, a robe over her nightclothes, hair down and loose over one shoulder. Dark eyes staring at him in surprise.

"Good morning, Miss Yaoyorozu," Aizawa said, inclining his head.

"Come sit," her father instructed.

Momo entered the office and her mother rose from the armchair, gesturing for Momo to take her place there. She did as she was bid.

"It seems I owe you an apology, Momo," her father said. "I am sorry, but you did the right thing."

"Thank you for trusting me to tell me about the threats against your family, despite the risk," Aizawa added, and he willed her to read the air — to read his mind and catch the silent wavelengths he directed at her with all his will. "I do not want to lose you as a student, so I've come forward to entrust your family with the details of the undercover mission I was on in the nightclub."

It was her mother's turn to chime in. "You shouldn't have snuck into a club, Momo, but you showed great resolve in keeping the secret of Mr. Aizawa's mission to yourself. You did what you needed to in order to protect his mission. You will be a great Hero."

Momo dropped her eyes respectfully, abashedly, and bowed. Smart fucking girl. Aizawa was pleased as she fell into her role without so much as missing a beat.

"Thank you," she said. "I never meant to place our family in the position of being dishonored, but I understood the importance of keeping Mr. Aizawa's confidence for his mission."

She was beginning to lie beautifully, and Aizawa was caught off-guard by the pride in his chest. A word came to him then, unbidden and of its own accord, and despite that he gestured to the door, it did not leave.

Protege.

Never, his mind scoffed. He was no Jack Crawford, and she no Starling. No matter her roots, no matter how deep in the earth they tangled, she wouldn't turn her back on the ambitions she had before her.

Would she?

Was it too far-fetched to imagined the Yakuza princess embracing her throne?

Protege.

"You deserve to know the source of the conflict. The person responsible for the blackmail was a former pupil who I expelled from UA; he recognized me, of course, and he knew you from the Sports Festival. They saw an opportunity to get revenge at your expense — they had wanted to ruin my reputation, but had not expected that your father would actually pay to keep it quiet. The money has been recovered, however, and returned, and they will be facing lawful justice."

"Thank you, Sensei."

"There is no need for you to transfer from UA," her father announced, and Aizawa felt both relief and dread. A strange, uneasy balance to strike. "You may return to class on Monday."

"Do you have any more questions for me?" Aizawa asked her parents, and they shook their heads. Momo's father shook his hand, and Aizawa turned to go.

"Will you show me out, Ms. Yaoyorozu?" he asked, and she nodded.

He didn't speak until they were outside, but her atoms were vibrating with the anticipation of being told what had transpired — what the rest of the secret was that they would share. For what was one more secret between teacher and student?

"I told your parents that I was in the nightclub on an undercover mission, and that you had snuck in," Aizawa said, watching the valet walk away to retrieve his car. "I approached you the way I did to disperse any suspicion about our connection and told you that you needed to leave — which you did, but our interaction did not go unnoticed. Enter the 'expelled student.'"

"Who was it really? And what did you really do?"

"It was one of the men who kidnapped you and the other girls that night," Aizawa admitted.

"What did you do to them?"

She looked so small but fierce, with her hands curled into fists and such determination in her eyes. As though she would not rest until she knew exactly what justice had been done.

And how was he to tell her that Goro w was bound and unconscious in his trunk, right now, as the valet drove it in their direction. How would he detail, exactly, what his intentions were? Not that it mattered.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

"You're lying. You aren't ready to hear it. Just know that it's been dealt with."

The valet was there then, the car coming to a stop, and the employee exited the vehicle then offered a bow. Aizawa decided to leave the conversation there with her as he approached his car.

"I will see you in class on Monday, Ms. Yaoyorozu," he said over his shoulder. "Be ready. Final exams are coming up, and I expect you to be prepared."

Her sullen silence was an answer all its own, and it shouldn't have been as deeply amusing as it was. But, leaving through the gate of the Yaoyorozu estate, he felt good. Damn fucking good. Like a Greek tragedy, all of the elements had fallen into place. He had resolved each problem and kept his secrets along the way. He had only Goro left.

He was going to enjoy what came next.

He planned to savor every cry of pain, every drop of blood spilt. He would unleash all of his bottled emotions on the man who had caused all this. It would feel righteous. Just. The man would pay his toll to the underworld in screams.

The thought warmed Aizawa as he drove to other part of town. To the warehouse district, where factories hummed and plumed smoke through the day and night. The part of the city where the stars were harder to see. To the abandoned warehouse that, at points, had been his private hideaway when it was needed. Just like it was needed now.

Aizawa stopped the car in front of the bay doors, then went inside and unlocked the padlock that kept it shut. The door rolled up as he got back behind the wheel and drove his nondescript sedan inside, then pulled on the thin nylon rope to draw the door down and shut again. Locked it. Checked the other entrances for good measure before he returned to stand at the trunk of his car.

He was so fucking ready.

Aizawa raised the trunk lid, and found a man he'd never seen before laid bound and gagged inside.