An Agreement Between Gentlemen. A Musical Follows.

Author's Note: More backstory. Not a joy. Musical number, much more joy! Song is Street Lamp Swing by Dirty Honkers for those inclined to listen to it, and for everyone to know I didn't write the bloody thing. Enjoy!

Izzy slid his shirt sleeve up to look at his watch. 6:05. He needed this meeting to hurry up and happen. He tapped his foot, thought, fuck it and pulled out his horn. The trumpet had been a gift from his master. The well-worn pads and polished brass glistened in the early evening. He looked out over the near skyline, and breathed in. The trumpet came to life with a riff that had been running through his head. A bouncy number, light and sweet. The thought of Ochaco popped up in the back of his mind and he stopped. The girl was going to be a problem for him if he didn't stop. Behind him, the tell-tale landing of his contact told him his meeting would finally begin.

"Pretty sounds. A shame such a gift is squandered on a villain," Izzy signed and put his horn away. He didn't have time for the posturing.

"I have to say I prefer the piano, but thanks for the compliment, All Might," Izzy faced his former idol. "And would you please get out of that form. We've been over this. I don't want you keeling over. No one will see us here. I've checked."

Steam poured off the number one hero as Toshinori Yagi reverted to his true form. The sunken eyes fell as he put a hand to his forehead and rubbed his temples.

"You're in a good mood today."

"Just don't want you coughing up blood on my shoes. I have a gig tonight."

"Don't you mean a date?"

That got Izzy's attention. He was used to holding all the cards and keeping them close to his vest. He knew a lot of hero agencies had their ears to the investigation on him, but he didn't realize All Might would be kept in the loop on it. When it came to him, All Might tried to keep his distance. He had a suspicion as to why.

"I know all about your plans with Miss Uraraka this evening. A word of warning. If you hurt her, I will break you. As one of my former students she had some of the most potential I'd ever se-"

"So much so that you passed One for All on to her?"

Tosinori froze. Izzy smiled as the shame played across the Symbol of Peace's face.

"No, you didn't. You didn't because in the end you don't trust anyone to take up that mantle. That whole year looking for a successor, and no one worthy to take up the torch of All Might, greatest hero. Not even your little protégé," Izzy stepped to the side as he finished. A fist came flying through the air, missing Izzy by inches. The rest of hero's body passed through him. The young man tried to dive back into floor, but Izzy was quicker. He activated Compel, and the hero's body flattened out, and fell to the floor. He let the man get up and face him, allowing himself a smile.

"You're getting better Mirio. That one almost got me," Izzy chuckled, walking forward and extending his hand. Mirio shook his head, but smiled and took it.

"One of these days, I will beat you. Sensi has seen it."

"Yes, and Sir Night Eye saw All Might's death, and my redemption, and an endless parade of possible futures. How's the leg."

Mirio looked down, flexing his right leg and giving a few kicks.

"Getting better. Docs say I should have it back to almost brand new with a little more rehab. It was nice seeing Eri in the hospital. Thanks for that."

"My pleasure. She's happy to see her Uncle Lemillion anytime."

"And I'll be happy when I get to arrest her new dad."

Both of them smiled. This game had gone on between them for years. Izzy admired Mirio. He was the real deal. A hero who believed and stood by those beliefs. It was a shame they were on the wrong side of each other. Friendships were easier when you didn't have to fight each other. As it stood, the slightly older hero wasn't a match for Izzy. Someday though, he might have to put his friend in the ground. He didn't relish the thought.

"If you're done with my sidekick, let's get to business."

"Yes, you're right," Izzy admitted. Mirio took his place at All Might's side. He felt sorry for the young man, trained to be the successor to All Might, but never being able to inherit that piece of him that would make him a true heir. It was for the best though. The idea of a super charged Lemillion didn't scare him per se, but the thought of the young hero burning out and dying at a young age made the villain sad. He understood All Might's reasons and was thankful for them.

"They're moving the body of Shigaraki in two days' time. Eraser Head will be receiving it from the plane, and the convoy will make it's way to Tartarus from there."

"Is there anyway to pull Eraser off that detail."

Izzy watched as shame and anger mixed in All Might's frail body. The man hated this new reality.

"Listen, if you want to stay in the game you have to start playing by the rules the rest of us have been going by, All Might."

"This is a compromise. It's disgraceful."

"It's necessary. I don't like exposing myself to heroes on this level either, but you are in no condition to take All for One in a straight up fight. Not anymore."

The old hero looked away at that. Izzy hid it, but his heart went out to his idol. Even in the darkest moments of his creation, he never hated All Might. Not really. The old hero was right. You couldn't be a hero in this world without a quirk. Sure, he could have entrusted it to Izzy, but it would have destroyed his body while he tried to master it. Maybe he could handle it now, but that would be asking the Symbol of Peace to entrust the greatest power on Earth to a villain. It wouldn't work. Until they found a suitable quirkless candidate, All Might had to be preserved and protected. The thought of OFA falling into the hands of his "father" filled Izzy with dread.

"I'll see what I can do. He'll be difficult to convince."

"Find something. The remnants of the LOV will be out for blood, and Aizawa is too important to lose in a battle they need to win. Find some other heroes for the detail."

"You're being pretty casual about the lives of these heroes. You're asking us to send them to their deaths."

"I'm a villain, All Might. Death is a part of the game."

With that, Izzy picked up his horn, and jumped from the roof. The wind flew through his hair, and the ground came to his feet. He absorbed the landing, and stood up, augmentations preventing any damage. He hoped the heroes would find the right pieces to sacrifice quick. It was too late to pick wrong.

Uraraka stirred, opening her eyes to find she was still in the back seat of the Cadillac. She took a quick inventory. Nothing seemed out of place and besides having to adjust her hair, she was undisturbed. She looked at the clock at the front of the car. 7:15. The door opened on her right.

"Apologies again, Miss Uraraka. But as I said, we must keep some secrets," Riggs bowed and extended her hand. The car sat in front of Josephine's, the neon glow cutting into the night, and the subtle thump of the music pushing through the walls and letting her know that the club was livelier than it had been even the night before. She got out of the car and stood in the light of the sign. She readied herself for her mission. She'd appear to be having fun. She'd get the intel they needed on him, and she'd make sure Izzy couldn't get to her.

Riggs closed the door behind her and made his way to the driver's door.

"The master will see you home himself, at your leisure. If you need anything else, he will see to it," the man started to get in, but paused. "A favor, if you would, Miss Uraraka?"

"Yes, Mr. Riggs?" she looked at him. She saw the old man's eyes knit together as he looked for the right words.

"The master is very important to all of us. We believe in his work. Believe in the man. None of us want to see any harm come to him. Do enjoy yourself but be careful with him. Izzy has endured enough heartbreak as it is," he said, and ducked into the car. Riggs pulled the car down the road and out of sight, leaving Uraraka alone with her thoughts.

She wasn't alone for long. Below her the door to the club opened, allowing the music and laughter to pour out into the street. She braced herself, and walked into the club, past the doorman, and too a silent suited man who beckoned her to follow him.

All around her the room was alive with the same wonderous movement and joy she had seen last night. Stone cold sober, she could no longer chalk up the effect of this place being a lonely woman's alcohol fueled fantasy. The man sat her at a table in front of the stage. She felt exposed being so close to the band, with the dance floor at her back and only a few tables on either side of her.

Uraraka scanned the room, committing herself to knowing who was considered important enough to gain entry to this place. The list of the famous and infamous began to pile up. Behind her Mt. Lady, retired hero turned full time model, sat at a table with the young head of the Agatello Family from the United States. The Prime Minister's chief of staff was arm in arm with several members of the Hollywood and Japanese film industry elite. She wasn't sure, but towards the back, dipping his whiskers into a mug half his size, she thought she could make out Principle Nezu being helped to his booth by Hawks and his retinue of wannabe heroines. This place was wonderful, and unsettling. Were all these people under Izzy's thumb? There was no way. Hawks and Nezu were known in the hero community for being pillars of accountability. Who else would the government trust to go undercover or raise the next generations of heroes? Maybe this really was a club and Izzy wasn't a villain. Or maybe…they were all being duped.

Uraraka opened her purse and pulled out a little notebook, making note of everyone she saw in the club. Pictures would have been preferable, but she doubted she could be sneaky sat at the front of the room like she was. The song ended and the singer stepped to the front of the stage and knelt in front of Uraraka.

"This next one is for you sugar, so pay attention. It took me some convincing to get him to sing it, but it was Ms. Josephine's favorite," she whispered and then she was gone. Uraraka turned to see where she was gone only to be shocked to see Izzy standing at the front of the stage, head tilted down and ready. The crowd rushed to the dance floor in anticipation and Uraraka heard the beginnings of a wall of horns setting up something with more of a churn than the electric fast swing she'd heard here before.

"The street lamp shadow poured out of the alley, like a shot from a mystery thriller romance flick."

The horns kept hitting on the off beat. No drums yet. The floor picked up the beat, but no one danced quite yet.

"No sound but the trash dancing in the city smoke, reminding me I'm out of cigarettes, reminding me I'm out of cigarettes. 'This must be hell I thought.'"

Still no action just yet, but the way everyone stood at the ready Uraraka had to give more credit to Shoto's hell idea. She'd have to ask them if demons choreographed.

"As I rest my back on the brick wall, waiting for nothing at all. When suddenly a big white yellow Cadillac came gushing out of the main street. Stopping right in front of me, a compelling voice crept out from the back seat."

The singer stepped forward, placing her arms around Izzy and her cheek next to his. A pang of hot jealousy shot through Uraraka's chest. She didn't know where it came from, but she didn't fight it. She didn't like seeing this woman so familiar with her…target. He's a target. Target target target…

"Hey there stranger, looks like you need a drink. Climb in."

"Desperate and curious I got in the car, not long after screeching to a halt in front of a big door, with neon lights."

Izzy stepped away from the mike as the singer took full possession of the stage, the man bringing up his horn and the bass and drums locking into the rhythm the horns had been laying in for them. The crowd began to move as the singer opened mouth and sang.

"Open up the front door now go to the back. Keep the liquor flowing alls bout to attack. Where you going kitty no time to stra-a-aaay."

Uraraka didn't realize what was going on till she was being lifted and found the singer had brought her to the stage. The lights bore down, heating her face. If she was exposed at her table, she was out on open water here. Izzy put down his trumpet.

"Can I get a high ho? From the freaks out on the dancefloor? Holler at me and let me know. Do you like swing time? Would you like some more?"

Uraraka looked around, desperate for a place to run, to get off the stage. She was about to float herself away when a gloved hand took hers. Izzy stood in front of her, moved them both into a dance position.

Thousands of thoughts vied for the front spot in her mind.

I can't dance. He's so close. Why am I up here? Why do I like this? He's really cute. HE'S SUCH AN ASSHOLE FOR DOING THIS! All of them jumbled together in her head but fell by the wayside as she felt her feet moving in time with him. She stepped back, and then to the side, and the other side, repeating and following along as Izzy smiled at her. She felt his arms telegraphing each movement, and decided to follow along.

"Step up and shake your tail feathers, put your left and right together. Clap your hands now to the beat. Tonight we're gonna dance till we bring the heaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!"

She followed along until the singer held her last note and the drums began to break down. Then she started spinning. Faster and faster he turned her until her feet left the floor as he scooped her up and jumped them to the dance floor below set her down. There was no mistaking the look on his face; eyes wide, mouth open, and breath pumping through his chest. The man was exuberant. A part of her still wanted to thrash him. Maybe she would later, but after that landing she let herself forget about the mission and forget about being the center of attention for her friends and for this room. She was going to dance damn it. Her partner obliged.

They moved across the room. Izzy guided them and twirled them through couples and trick dancers that filled the floor. Her feet followed in time, matching the beat and keeping pace with Izzy. The band played on, soloing and backing the singer where needed. "Come on, plaayyy. Plaaayyy."

Eventually they were back at her table. He sat her down and looked her over. Even in shape, she was out of breath. She grabbed for her drink, downing the still cold concoction. She needed a break. She was loving the feel of dancing, gliding across the floor, but her breath was catching in her chest. With a wink, Izzy lept back on stage to catch a microphone tossed his way.

"Pretty girls, of all sorts. With matching handbags and skirts, surrounding the bar. As my hostess paraded around hanging onto my arm like a movie star."

The singer grabbed his arm, and the jealousy was back. Tired or not Uraraka wouldn't have that. Performance be damned, she was going to talk to Izzy after this about what her partner…

She caught her train of thought and quickly tried to bury it.

"And dragging me toward the back room, where the jazz band onstage played a hot tune. And everybody started to move like cartoons, hooked by the rhythm like a sharp harpoon."

Someone brought her another drink. She took it. She knew she might want to slow down, but brought it to her lips anyway.

"As I watched from the corner of my eye, Mr. Jack Malone giving me the evil eye…"

Uraraka drank deep, the combination of dancing and liquor hitting her system hard and fast. Her head began to swim, unable to follow the rest of the song between the dancers and music. She closed her eyes, trying to regain focus. When she looked up again, Izzy was down from the stage again, offering her his hand.

She took it, following him to the secluded booth from the night before. As she took her seat he raised his other hand. Someone came to them immediately with a glass in hand.

"Thank you, but no. I need to slow down."

"It's water, Ochaco."

She took the glass and began to drink. The cold water helped clear her head. Across from her Izzy held her hand. His eyes were kind, and he seemed so caring. She punched him in the chest.

"I don't appreciate being pulled into…musical numbers…without warning."

Izzy rubbed the spot on his chest. It'd been a solid hit. She wouldn't be surprised if he'd be wheezing a bit.

"Fair, and I'm sorry. Molly insisted, and I can get carried away from time to time."

Uraraka nodded and looked back toward the stage. Molly was still finishing the song. She took another sip of water and kept her eyes on the stage.

"So, you and Molly seem close."

"We perform together from time to time?"

"Just perform?" she didn't look at him.

"What? I mean I don't think I have much work for her outside of the club. And it wouldn't make sense to…oh." Izzy looked at her and chuckled.

"I don't think you have to worry about that. I think you'd be more to her liking than I would be. Besides," he shrugged. "She's more like an annoying older sister." Izzy watched Uraraka for any change in her expression. She continued to stare at the crowd. Refusing to reveal just how silly she'd been being jealous.

"Oh, okay," was the best she managed. She switched back to her cocktail.

They sat in the booth, exchanging small talk here and there. In between bouts of conversation, they danced some more, but as the night wound down and the crowd thinned, they remained in the booth. He asked after her friends, making sure they'd enjoyed themselves the night before. She answered his questions. He switched to asking about her. Her time as a hero, ideas for work, even if she got to see her family very often with her being called away to different disaster zones around the country.

"I don't see my parents very much anymore. I still send them money every week. Mom's sick, and Dad already works as much as he's able. They need the help."

"But you don't make it home to see them?"

She shrugged.

"Train tickets add up, and between the money I'm already sending them and what I need to keep my own shitty apartment here, I'm spent. Nobodies clamoring to sponsor Recovery Heroes. They love it when we're on site, but we aren't flashy and no one's putting up Uravity posters in their rooms," she finished her drink and looked back out on the floor.

"If I'm being honest, and I'm still mad at you for this, that show you pulled me into, dancing with you, even coming here is the most attended I've felt in a long time."

"It's nice to be wanted."

"It really is," she leaned into him. She felt his body tense up, and then relax as she let herself enjoy the closeness. For all his confidence on stage and on the dance floor, here alone, he was still a nervous young man around her. She found that comforting.

"So is this hell? Are you dead, or Satan, or something?"

"What? I'm sorry, but what?" He looked down at her. She looked back. There was genuine confusion there.

"Are you the devil, and is this hell? You know we're investigating you. That tracker I had couldn't track you. You've set up this whole production. I don't know where I really am and no one could probably find me," she closed her eyes and nestled deeper into him.

"And Bakugo insists you're dead. So, what is it?" she waited. Not sure what answer would be worse. "To be fair, you don't feel dead."

"Because I'm not," his arm draped over her. She felt the rise and fall of his chest as breathed and talked.

"I'm not dead, Ochaco. And this place is home. Hard to find, yes, but very real. There's nothing supernatural going on here."

He waited.

"Ochaco?"

A light snore was his only response. He looked down on the beautiful woman sleeping against him, pondering. He needed to call this off. He should have his men take her to her home, and never call on her. Never see her. This had gone too far as of last night. Anything mores was an unnecessary risk.

Risk is part of the game, Izzy boy. Find something to hold onto in your life. Remind you why you do the things we do. We won't make it on blood alone. Do you understand?

His men approached the table, but he waved them off. He took Ochaco in his arms and carried her out of the club, and to the apartment above it. Once in his home, he laid the woman down in his bed, removing the shoes from her feet, and brought the blankets over her body. On the chest at the foot of the bed, he set some comfy pants and button down pajama shirt Riggs helped Eri get him for his birthday.

Satisfied that she was settled, Izzy slipped out of clothes and into a pair of sweatpants. He set himself up on the couch, and puzzled over what place Ochaco Uraraka could have in his life.