Author's Note:

A guide to 1920s slang used in this chapter:

Penny dreadful = cheap popular serial literature

The cat's meow = something splendid (Author's Note: I really like this one, we should bring it back into fashion.)

Fuzz = police

Breeze off = get lost (street slang)

Chapter Two:

The bed was soft. Too soft. Izuku's eyes snapped open. Oh god, why was he in some rich person's house? Had he snuck in here to hide from the goons and fallen asleep? Izuku leapt out of bed. His bare feet landed on soft green carpet. He was wearing stripped pajamas? Where did those come from?

Memory washed over him like a flood. His entire life had changed yesterday. It felt like something from a penny dreadful, having two wealthy men fight to adopt him. Izuku was still waiting to find out what the catch would be in exchange for living a rich life in this nice mansion—and he hadn't even tried potential dad number two yet.

Izuku washed his face in his ridiculously large bathroom. From outside, Hisashi called, "Have you checked out your closet yet?"

"I haven't had time," Izuku admitted.

Hisashi said, "I'll lay out an outfit for you to wear. You'll need to dress semi-formal since I'll be showing you some possible schools today."

Izuku's ears perked up. Unlike most other kids at the orphanage, he'd always liked school. "Whoa! I, uh, I might be a bit behind in my studies…" His classroom had regularly lacked basic things like textbooks and paper.

"I'll hire you private tutors. You're a bright boy, I'm sure you'll catch up fast. Would you prefer a Japanese or Western breakfast?"

"Uh…" Izuku wasn't used to having anything except thin porridge for breakfast.

Hisashi said, "I'll prepare some of both breakfast items for you. Please join me downstairs when you're ready."

Chuckling to himself, Izuku shook his head. He'd definitely come up in the world. What would his old friends back at the orphanage think?

On the bed, Hisashi had laid out a sporty green tennis sweater and grey Oxford bag pants. Izuku marveled at the cleanness of his clothing as he changed. It even smelled like fresh soap.

Breakfast was delicious and Izuku ate too much too fast. Afterward, Hisashi looked up from his newspaper and said, "My personal doctor will come around to check your health, then we'll look into schools."

The promise of schooling was enough to make Izuku sit through the doctor's examination. Dr. Garaki was a wizened old man who wore peculiar gear-like goggles. He gave off a slightly creepy vibe and never once spoke to Izuku except to give him orders. Otherwise Dr. Garaki delivered his assessment to Hisashi.

Izuku got poked, prodded, and weighed. He was pronounced fortunately free of illness and lice, but a bit malnourished and underweight. Hisashi took careful notes about Izuku's diet. The caring felt nice. Izuku had gone a long time with no one caring about his health. Though Izuku did wince upon learning he had a dentist appointment later that week.

"Will we look at schools next?" Izuku asked with pleading eyes.

His enthusiasm made Hisashi smile. "We have a couple good potential schools in the area. I'll have Oboro pull the car around."

In the doorway, there were half a dozen pairs of Oxford shoes. Hisashi said, "I was able to eyeball your clothing size, but shoes can be tricky. Try them on and see which one fits."

It felt wasteful, for Izuku to have so many shoes in different sizes. As he tried on pairs, he asked, "Can we give away the extra ones to charity?"

"You really are like your father." Hisashi chuckled. "Of course, I have no use for the extra shoes."

Feeling very fancy, Izuku followed Hisashi into his limousine.

A short drive later, they arrived at a beautiful brick building that looked like a castle, from the square tower to the ivy growing over the church. Izuku could barely imagine why a school would need to be so large.

The principal was a skinny balding man in a suit. He rushed out to shake Hisashi's hand, falling all over himself about what an honor it was to have such a distinguished visitor. Then he turned his fawning on Izuku. "What a fine young lad. Your boy looks a lot like you."

"Doesn't he?" Hisashi beamed, putting an arm around Izuku's shoulder.

The principal showed them around the school. It was truly impressive, from the large cafeteria to the fancy gym to the indoor swimming pool. At the sports fields out back, the principal hinted about how they planned to lay down new pavement on the tennis court soon. At that point, Izuku realized that the principal expected not only tuition but also a generous donation if he attended the school.

A teacher let them sit in on a history class. Izuku was in awe. All the students sat down politely in their seats instead of throwing objects. The teacher had a serious lesson plan and some interesting class exercises. From what he could tell, no one was carrying a hidden knife. Though every single other student was white, making Izuku wonder how easily he'd fit in.

During the drive to the next school, Hisashi said, "Both schools have entrance exams, but they won't dare fail you. I'll hire a private tutor to catch you up on your schoolwork. You can interview potential tutors with me."

Nodding, Izuku looked out the window. The streets going by so fast fascinated him. "I'll catch up quickly, I promise."

"I'm sure you will," Hisashi said indulgently. "It's a good thing you didn't get Kaiji's brains. No, you're a Shigaraki through and through. I can tell."

Izuku flinched and sank lower in his seat. Did Hisashi have a more difficult relationship with Kaiji then he'd let on last night? The compliment had been a backhanded insult toward his father, but Izuku was wary about showing his hurt feelings. Hisashi came across as intimidating, and Izuku had little power.

Without noticing, Hisashi continued, "The next school is a little further away. It's co-ed, which could be a plus or minus depending on your preferences. I picked this school because they teach Japanese language. Not that you would need that class, but there's a language club."

Izuku jerked his head around and said in Japanese, "Of course you speak Japanese. Why didn't I realize sooner?"

Hisashi smiled and replied in the same language, "We can speak in either tongue whenever you prefer. It's fun to have a secret language."

Izuku was bilingual, but he hadn't been able to speak Japanese to anyone in a long time. It nearly brought a tear to his eye.

Hisashi continued, "Although they do not offer Japanese history, the principal was amendable to arranging a special private history class for you in Japanese. I thought you might enjoy at least one class in the tongue of our homeland. It's important for you to know your roots."

Izuku bounced in the seat. "Thank you, that would be the cat's meow."

The second school was a long white building with a bell tower. Beautiful oak trees with red leaves spread down the road. The facilities weren't quite as fancy. The smaller outdoor pool had currently been closed down for the fall. However, Izuku did notice a couple other Asian-American students, unlike the last school. In fact, the principal had bragged extensively about his prize pupils Shouto Todoroki, the son of a famous politician, and Momo Yaoyorozu, a genius heiress.

During the car ride back home, Hisashi asked, "Do you have a preference?"

Izuku said, "I liked the second school more."

"Oh? Why?"

Izuku had a feeling he was being tested, and it irritated him. "Because you can bribe the teachers to let me into their lily-white school, but you can't make the kids like me."

Hisashi laughed. "That's a reasonable concern. If you picked the first school, I had thought about funding scholarships for a couple other students to ensure that you had friends."

The scholarships sounded like a cool idea, but Izuku didn't want people who'd been paid to be his friends. "Even if you do that, I still think I'd fit in better at the second school."

"Forming connections with your classmates from influential families is important," Hisashi said. "I think you're making a good choice. Do you feel hungry for lunch?"

"I'm a bit peckish," Izuku admitted.

Hisashi called to the driver, "Take us to Harvey's." Turning to Izuku, he said, "I own the restaurant. I own most of this town."

They had deli meat sandwiches for lunch. Izuku picked roast beef, the meat twice as thick as the bread. He could barely refrain from licking his fingers. Afterward, Hisashi asked, "How would you like to go shopping?"

Izuku asked, "For school supplies?"

Hisashi smiled. "For anything you want, my dear nephew."

First, Hisashi took Izuku to an expensive clothing store. The employees perked up at the smell of money, fluttering around and fawning. Hisashi picked out the outfits, and Izuku let him, since he had little sense of what was fashionable.

In short order, Izuku tried on a dizzying array of suits, wool sweaters, Oxford pants, and lounging coats. When Izuku made pleading eyes, Hisashi led him add a comfortable flannel shirt that cost a ridiculous price.

Turning to the cashier, Hisashi said, "We'll take it all."

Izuku felt faint. "I have so many outfits at home already…"

"Nothing but the best for my family." Hisashi picked up a green felt hat and placed it on Izuku's head. "We'll take this, too. Green always did suit you, Yoichi."

Izuku stiffened. Hisashi didn't seem to notice his blunder. He leaned over to write a check. Izuku's stomach felt queasy. Honestly, this didn't come as a complete surprise. There had been earlier signs, like the bedroom. Izuku had always expected his new good life wouldn't come for free. Nothing did. Being treated like a replacement for his dad was a fairly cheap price to pay in exchange for access to food, education, and a luxurious life. Idly, Izuku wondered what price potential dad number two would expect from him.

Still wearing the hat, Izuku headed to a bookstore next. He was even more enthusiastic this time, darting from shelf to shelf and soon amassing a collection of books taller than himself. Hisashi smiled indulgently and ordered the books to be shipped to his mansion.

"Thank you, Uncle Hisashi," Izuku said, smiling from ear to ear.

Hisashi held out his arms.

Ah, so this was also part of the price. Izuku willingly hugged his uncle, and did not even complain about the long length of the embrace.

Next Hisashi took them to a toy story. Izuku got a tinker toy set, marbles, a gyroscope, an airplane toy, and a set of cast iron toy cars. Hisashi insisted that Izuku was being too modest, then also ordered a bicycle and a clockwork train set with fifteen feet of track and three different trains. In exchange, Izuku offered up several more hugs and effusive praise that Hisashi ate right up.

By the end of the trip, Izuku had to stifle a yawn with the back of his hand.

Hisashi chuckled. "Time to head home. Did you have a good day?"

"Very much so," Izuku said. It had all been very overwhelming. He still couldn't believe this was real. But he couldn't wait to read all his new books. A part of him feared that if he didn't read them quickly, they might all be taken away from him.

Hisashi patted Izuku on the head. "You can have anything you want, as long as you stay with me." His voice filled with pride. "I'm strong enough to protect you and provide for you. I wish I'd been stronger sooner…"

Izuku's ears perked up. But since they were in public, he filed away his questions for later and got into the car. He did not ask on the drive either, since the driver could listen.

As they pulled up to the mansion, reporters waited on the streets. Mobbing the car, they shouted questions.

"Izuku, how do you feel about two of the richest men in the country fighting for custody of you?"

"You have an amazing rags-to-riches story! Would you be available for an interview?"

"It was unknown until now that Hisashi Shigaraki had any family. Where are your parents?"

"Have you heard the unsavory rumors around both of your guardians?"

"Do you prefer being a mafia prince or a shoe baron's heir?"

Hisashi sighed. "I wonder who leaked to the press." His voice held a quiet threat for when he found the culprit.

The car drove straight past despite the people banging on the window. The gates closed behind them, locking the reporters out of the mansion.

Getting out of the car with a raised eyebrow, Izuku asked, "Mafia prince?"

Hisashi smirked. "No one can prove anything. I'm heavily involved in numerous reputable industries. Officially I get most of my wealth from my dairy company."

Izuku followed his uncle into the house and took off his shoes.

Hisashi asked, "What would you like for dinner?"

Izuku hesitated, then said, "I'd like to ask how my fathers died."

Hisashi sighed. "I see I'll be hitting the heavy liquor."

"You don't have to tell me," Izuku said, more because he didn't want to upset his guardian. He very much wanted to know.

Hisashi said, "You have the right to ask questions. Especially if you don't remember anything."

Over a supper of lasagna, Hisashi took out a bottle of Dom Pérignon. Alcohol had been outlawed across the United States since Prohibition passed into law in 1920, but Izuku was not surprised to see the wine. The extremely unpopular 18th Amendment had been flouted across the U.S., and Izuku already knew that Hisashi had ties to far greater acts of criminality. Bootlegged alcohol had been a great boon to the business of organized crime leaders like Hisashi.

Taking a swig straight from the bottle, Hisashi wiped his mouth. He fixed Izuku with an intense stare. "What happened to you, old sport?"

Izuku said, "I wandered the streets for a while with a severe head injury and a gunshot graze on my shoulder. After I collapsed, a passerby took me to a clinic. The only identifying object on my body was my locket. I remembered my first name, but nothing about where I came from. I ended up at a homeless shelter, then they sent me to the orphanage."

"No one filed a police report? Surely I would have found out. I watched the police carefully for all news, and so did the blond oaf." Hisashi spoke of his rival with disdain.

Izuku shrugged. "An injured street kid is nothing special. No one cared. I could have gone to the police myself, maybe I should have, but I had an instinctive distrust of the fuzz."

Hisashi sighed and leaned back in his chair. "That's understandable. If you'd gone too soon, and one of Destro's dirty cops had found you first…" He shook his head. "The past can't be changed. You're here now." Smiling, he reached across the table to rest his hand on Izuku's.

His uncle looked in a hugging mood, but Izuku wanted some answers first. "I answered your questions. Now answer mine."

Hisashi took another long slug of wine. "I was always very close to my little brother. We were each other's only family member, after all. Naturally I helped him out financially after you were born. But in retrospect I wish I hadn't gifted the money without any conditions, because it attracted parasites. Yoichi was always extremely soft-hearted. He would give away his last cent without hesitation to anyone with a sob story. He had a group of friends who did nothing but live at his house and leach off him all day—and the worst of the lot was the last to join, Toshinori Yagi. The blond oaf fancied himself an inventor and had created a shoe sewing machine. He persuaded Yoichi to invest all his remaining money into his crackpot scheme."

Ah, so was that why the media had referred to Toshinori Yagi as the shoe baron. It seemed like the invention had been successful, but Izuku didn't think it would be helpful to disagree with his uncle. Better to let Hisashi keep drinking in hopes of coaxing more information out of him.

Hisashi's hand grew unsteady, spilling a little as he drank. "The blond oaf took out loans from the wrong people and attracted debt collectors. They broke into your parents' home looking for Yagi, who freeloaded there. Instead they killed both of your parents and kidnapped you. I think they planned to hold you for ransom. But they must have lost you, because they never sent a ransom note."

Even if it hadn't entirely been Toshinori's fault, Izuku could understand Hisashi's rage and blame. Though Izuku did wonder why Toshinori hated Hisashi in return. He was not blind to the possibility there might be another side to this story.

Swaying slightly in his seat, Hisashi said, "That's why I don't want you around Yagi…he killed your parents…I think he does feel guilty in his own selfish way…that's why he wants you…as vindication for his past mistakes…but you mustn't go near him…I won't let him get you killed with his foolishness too."

Izuku made a neutral noise in the back of his throat. He'd have to leave with Toshinori Yagi in a week, and it would be an interesting test to see how much of a fuss Hisashi put up about that. Had Toshinori's fears about kidnapping been overblown or justified? Izuku didn't intend to leave this city, much less this country. He wanted to hear both sides of the story and give both potential dads a try.

Hisashi's head dipped down. He muttered, "I avenged Yoichi's death. You may rest assured about that, Izuku. Every single person responsible is dead." Losing his grip on the bottle, he fell face-first, toward the table.

Izuku grabbed the bottle before it could smash and caught his uncle's shoulder. "Come on, Uncle Hisashi. Time to go to bed. Where's your bedroom?"

In a drunken slur, Hisashi guided Izuku into the hallway and down a flight of stairs. Izuku would have expected the master bedroom to be on the upper floor, but he followed the directions. Looking around, they'd ended up in an unfinished basement with nothing in particular except cement walls and storage bins. The wooden shelves in the back were empty. Izuku said, "I think you've gotten so drunk you turned us around. Let's go upstairs."

"It's here." Hisashi tapped a shelf in a particular place, and it swung back to reveal a hidden door. He pulled out a key from his neck and unlocked it. Izuku stared in fascination, now keeping very quiet so he could be let in on the secret.

Inside was an illegal still for making moonshine. A copper canister sat on top of a stone furnace for fermenting the alcohol. A pipe led out of the top of the still to a thump keg, or a heated barrel where the distilled alcohol condensed. The hot vapor distilled the alcohol a second time to make it more potent. The steam traveled up a coiled pipe into a crate of cold water. Called the worm box, the cold water was used to condense the alcohol steam into liquid. There was a spout at the end of the worm box. Judging from two dozen barrels packed into the shelves, this was a very profitable still.

The air felt cold and smelled like yeast. Izuku looked in all directions, his wide eyes taking in the fascinating contraption. Some older kids at the orphanage had once tried to create a still but the resulting drink had made them all sick and the machine had broken down after one use. This was a far more professional operation.

At first, Izuku had assumed that Hisashi was merely after more to drink. Instead, Hisashi walked to the corner of the cellar and shifted aside a barrel. He bent over and touched something on the floor, then the carpet peeled back to reveal a metal trapdoor.

Was that a bank vault door? It definitely looked like one, judging from the round wheel for a handle. This was kind of cool. Maybe his uncle kept a fortune inside. Izuku followed Hisashi down another narrow flight of stairs, into the vault.

The inside looked more like a living room, with a grey leather couch, a TV, and a billboard table. The metal walls had been painted light brown. At first Izuku thought this was merely some extremely eccentric drinking lounge located inside a bank vault. Then Hisashi led him past shelves stocked with canned food, into the bedroom with a huge king bed covered by a black canopy. This place must be a rich person survival bunker. It was also a comic book collector's paradise: Hisashi had just as much villain merch and posters as his little brother had hero merch.

Izuku heaved Hisashi into the bed. Hisashi muttered, "Safe here. This place is safe." He grabbed Izuku and dragged him into a hug. "Stay."

Gently, Izuku squirmed. He'd rather sleep the night in his own bedroom. But Hisashi held on tight, his fingers like claws. Izuku considered shaking his uncle awake. Then Hisashi whispered, "Don't go…please…"

The plea sounded so sincere that Izuku stopped struggling. He decided that he could probably wait for his uncle to fall asleep, replace himself with a pillow, then escape.

But Izuku's stomach was full after his big meal, and it made him sleepy. His eyes slipped closed and did not open again.

The next day, Izuku woke up in his own bedroom. Hisashi must have carried him up there. It had all been so strange that Izuku wasn't entirely certain if he'd dreamed it. To confirm the truth, Izuku went back to the basement and, with a fair bit of tapping, figured out how to open the secret door to the still. But without a key, he couldn't get inside. He tried to pick the lock, but he wasn't skilled enough to open a professional one. At least this confirmed he hadn't imagined it all.

Hisashi did not speak about the drunken conversation. Izuku assumed that his uncle was embarrassed or might not remember everything. Given his precarious position as a dependent, Izuku thought it better to pretend he didn't remember either. If his uncle had carried him back upstairs, that might mean he wasn't supposed to know about the vault.

Izuku spent a day taking a test of his education level. The results were spotty: Izuku had an advanced vocabulary from spending time at the local public library but math skills below his grade level. He'd read a lot about astronomy and geology because he'd found the subjects interesting, but he was missing the other sciences. Hisashi gave him a comic book as a present after the testing.

Next, Hisashi and Izuku interviewed half a dozen private tutors, then agreed to have each one come in and spend a few hours teaching Izuku over the week. According to Hisashi, there was no rush to pick because it would be better for Izuku to start school at the next beginning of a semester. All the tutors seemed skilled but Izuku especially liked Tomura Shigaraki, who had chatted with him about comic books.

The next day, over breakfast, Izuku asked, "Who's coming in to tutor me today?"

Hisashi set aside his newspaper. "Today is a Saturday, old sport. You don't have school today. I have a fun day planned for us."

In Izuku's eyes, schooling was fun, but he was also eager to see where he would go today. "Thank you, Uncle Hisashi."

Oboro drove them outside the city and dropped them off at a sprawling white building with a stables attached. The staff once again fell all themselves to obey Hisashi.

In a large changing room that they had all to themselves, Hisashi took out a tan wool riding habit. "Here, put this on."

"We're going horseback riding?" Izuku asked hopefully. That would make him feel like a main character in a penny dreadful.

Hisashi smiled and handed him a pair of riding boots. "You'll see."

Izuku bounced with eagerness as Hisashi led him to the stables. Hisashi stopped at a stall at the end and opened the gate. "This is your horse."

A big stout dappled grey horse with a black mane whinnied.

Izuku gasped. He'd seen pictures of horses in books, but they were much bigger in-person. "Mine…to ride today?"

"Yours for as long as you want him," Hisashi said. "I own multiple racehorses. This one raced poorly and isn't worth breeding. I'd send him to the glue factory for disposal, except I thought you might appreciate a tame older mount for your first time."

"No, no, don't dispose of him!" Izuku waved his hands. "I love him."

Hisashi handed Izuku a sugar cube. "Here, you can feed him."

Izuku held out the sugar cube and the horse ate it from his hand. The horse's breath was warm and tickled. Izuku asked, "What's his name?"

Hisashi said, "He raced under the name Hailstorm, but you can rename him anything you'd like."

"Hailstorm sounds like a fine name." Izuku would feel strange, renaming a horse who had already lived to old age. It seemed like it might bother the horse, even if Izuku didn't know enough about horses to be sure. Dogs and cats were smart enough to know their names. Presumably so did horses?

Hisashi said, "If you like riding, then I'll get you a younger horse fit to enter competitions. You can still keep your first horse, of course. There's plenty of room in the stable."

"I can't imagine how I'd look after two horses." Izuku shook his head.

"Oh, you don't need to look after them. The staff take care of that." Hisashi raised his voice. "Jin, get Hailstorm saddled up."

Jin Bubaigawara fastened the saddle, then helped Izuku up. Looking down at the world from high-up, Izuku felt empowered and maybe a little dizzy. With a friendly grin, Jin said, "Hailstorm has been trained to follow other horses at a slow pace. You don't need to do a single thing, young master. Just hold on."

Izuku gripped the saddle horn with all his might and nodded.

Hisashi mounted a black stallion. As Jin had said, Hailstorm followed after the other horse. Izuku gasped a little as the horse lurched under him. Hisashi guided them around a paved track once, then asked Izuku if he wanted to try riding on one of the wooden trails.

Izuku very much did. He was nervous, but he wanted to try anyway. They set off along a leaf-covered path, framed by trees in a dizzying range of orange, yellow, and brown. The air smelled fresh and a bit moldy. Leaves crunched under the hooves.

Hailstorm was a very easy horse to ride, moving at a sedate pace. The horse had a comforting odor, like hay in the spring. Izuku lost track of time.

When they finally arrived back at the stable, Hisashi helped Izuku down. Izuku didn't realize his legs felt sore until he'd dismounted. It wasn't too painful but left him feeling a little unsteady. Jin came to help take off the horse's gear.

Izuku leaned on his uncle's arm as he walked out of the stable. Hisashi said, "You'll get used to it after a few times riding. It takes different muscles. Did you have a good time?"

"Oh, yes, very!" Izuku grinned.

There was a "click" from the entranceway of the stable.

Face stormy, Hisashi's head whipped around. Jin pocketed a camera, but not fast enough to avoid being caught.

"How dare you," Hisashi growled. He moved as fast as a viper, snatching the camera and throwing it to the ground. He smashed it with his foot. Then, just as quickly, Hisashi punched Jin, sending him falling to the ground.

"Wait, stop!" Izuku cried.

Wiping blood from his mouth, Jin whimpered, "Please, sir, I'm sorry, the reporter promised me a thousand dollars for just one picture of the two of you together."

"A thousand dollars?" Izuku whispered, shocked the media cared that much about him. A thousand dollars could buy two new cars.

"Everyone loves the story of the orphan boy who made it rich." Jin's eyes met Izuku's pleadingly. "I didn't mean any harm. I have debts, I couldn't resist the temptation. I'm sorry."

Hisashi growled, "You're fired. Be grateful I don't do worse, because my nephew is watching."

Jin babbled, "Please, I need this job, and I love all the horses, please!"

Izuku said, "Wait, you don't need to fire him." As someone who'd been poor, Izuku couldn't blame anyone for accepting the offer of life-changing money just for one measly picture. He also didn't want anyone to lose their job. "He's clearly taking good care of my horse. You already broke his camera, can't you let it go?"

Huffing, Hisashi said, "Only for your sake, Izuku." He turned a glare on Jin. "You should be grateful for my dear nephew's benevolence."

Jin fell all over himself swearing a lifetime of gratitude.

The whole affair left Izuku feeling strange. He didn't know how to deal with being in such a position to change other people's lives. He hadn't enjoyed being poor and powerless but he was still adjusting to this.

After Izuku changed into a semi-formal tennis sweater, they ate lunch at the country house. Hisashi said, "There aren't any official races today, but I planned to have a few of my horses race each other for your amusement this afternoon."

The reminder of racing made Izuku think about Hailstorm's status as a failed race horse, leading to a rather horrible thought. If Toshinori won custody of him, then would Hisashi get rid of the poor horse as originally intended? Izuku was afraid to ask directly for fear of rousing anger in his temporary guardian at the reminder that he might not stay. "What happens to Hailstorm…if I don't come back?"

Teasingly, Hisashi said, "I'd send him to the glue factory, of course."

Either Hisashi had not understood the question, or he was in denial about any chance of Toshinori winning the court battle. Izuku gulped and tried again. "I'd want to make arrangements for him to have a good home…"

Hisashi said, "I'll be holding onto ownership papers until you're older, of course, since I own the stables. I'll make sure your horse is looked after for as long as you're using him, old sport."

This time, Izuku knew he hadn't been misunderstood. This horse was both a bribe and a threat. If Izuku didn't pick Hisashi in the custody case, then Hisashi would have his horse sent to a slaughterhouse.

"Thanks," Izuku whispered, lowering his head and finishing his sandwich.

Watching the races just made Izuku feel sick, because he kept thinking about Hailstorm and his possible grisly fate. Izuku didn't control what the judge decided, even if his opinion was taken into account. It wasn't fair.

Afterward, Hisashi said, "I have one more plan for this area. An acquaintance of mine is throwing a party. It will be the perfect chance to show you off."

Izuku flinched at those words. "Uh, truthfully, I'm a little tired today after the horseback riding…and I'm especially tired of everyone staring at me…"

Coldly, Hisashi raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So you were more affected by Jin's antics than you let on? I knew I should have punished him…"

"No, no!" Izuku waved his hands. "I'm fine! I feel better already. Of course we can attend your friend's party."

Hisashi chuckled. "Friend would be an overstatement. There's no one at that pitiful party on our level, but it will be a start for you to get used to your proper place in society."

Trying not to show his exasperation on his face, Izuku took a shower and then let Hisashi help him change into formal clothing: a heavy dark green corduroy suit with three golden buttons. To finish the outfit, Hisashi fastened a bowtie on Izuku's neck and placed a boater hat on his head. "You look like a little prince," he said with a pleased murmur. Hisashi seemed to enjoy dressing Izuku up. It had already gone from fun to exhausting. Izuku mumbled his thanks.

Hisashi did not seem to notice the lack of enthusiasm. He wore a dark grey suit with stripped grey trousers. Donning his fedora, he led Izuku outside to where Oboro waited with the limousine.

The party was held on a long white yacht. As soon as Izuku set foot onboard, he was nearly overwhelmed by the loud notes of "West End Blues" by Louis Armstrong blaring from the jukebox. The partygoers were gathered in a lounge with over a dozen white couches. Huge glass windows let in a view of the water. The light overhead had a dozen golden disks jutting out from it. White carpet with a grey leaf print spread across the floor. Two drunk women danced the Charleston next to the jukebox. Appetizers spread out across a table on the back wall. More wealthy people gathered around the bar, ordering drinks. This lot had no fear of Prohibition, probably because they had enough money to bribe the police and pay fines.

The men all wore suits and ties. The woman wore flapper dresses, straight and loose with waistlines at the hips. Izuku had remembered seeing an article in the paper decrying the scandalous new trend to show knees and blaming the suffragettes. A handful of women had cut their hair in short bobs, another fashion trend that had outraged the papers. Quite a few women wore headbands decorated with precious gems, metals, or feathers. Every woman present had jewelry, and most were decked out with a couple pearl necklaces and bracelets on both arms. Even the dancers wore high heels, though one woman had kicked hers off as she shimmied on the carpet.

Chatter filled the room, rising up above the music. There were so many people, talking and moving around. Izuku's head hurt. Within seconds of their arrival, heads turned towards them. People pointed at Izuku as they murmured to each other. For once, it wasn't just Izuku's anxiety making him believe that everyone in the room was talking about him. More people pushed their way over from the bar. Everyone wanted a glimpse of the famous Rags-to-Riches orphan boy.

A doe-eyed woman broke through the crowd first, claiming her right as hostess to greet the new arrival. She wore a purple flapper dress with tassels at the bottom and a huge ostrich feather poked out of her turban. "Hisashi, how wonderful that you could make it to my little party. Is this your long-lost nephew? He's adorable. Nice to meet you, Izuku. My name is Moira." Moira bent down to stick her face into Izuku's. Her floral perfume was overpowering. "I'm so glad that you found him after he got amnesia in that nasty—what was it again?"

"A car accident," Hisashi said smoothly. His grip tightened on Izuku's shoulder. "I'm afraid to let him out of my sight now."

Car accident? Izuku had a gunshot scar to prove that no accident had killed his parents. He felt annoyed at the lie, no doubt designed to help Hisashi maintain a respectable appearance. But Izuku knew he had to pick his battles, so he only nodded. "I'm happy that I have an uncle now."

This unleashed a flood of people coming up to introduce themselves. Izuku learned far more names than he could ever hope to remember. He repeated the same lines over and over again:

Yes, he'd been very surprised to find out that he was a missing heir.

Yes, it was very dramatic, like something from the movies.

Yes, his uncle had been very kind and generous to him.

The scent of perfume and cologne combined made Izuku start to feel ill. When a strange woman tried to kiss him on the cheek, he ducked.

"Aw, are you shy?" the drunk woman cooed.

"I'd rather not," Izuku said, stepping backward. Where was Hisashi? Looking around, Izuku saw his uncle in a conversation with two other men holding wine glasses. Izuku hesitated, not wanting to interrupt.

The drunk woman grabbed Izuku by the front of his suit and pressed a messy kiss against his forehead. Her breath reeked of whiskey.

"Hey, breeze off," Izuku snapped.

"Breeze?" The woman pressed her hand to her mouth and laughed uproariously. Izuku's cheeks flushed. Loudly, she shouted, "Ooo, he talks like an urchin too, it's very authentic."

More people were staring. Tears filled Izuku's eyes. He tried so hard to hold them back, but the harder he tried, the more he wanted to cry. A drop slipped down his cheek.

Hisashi's voice cut through the chatter in the crowd like a knife. "Fifty thousand dollars for the boat." He whipped out a check, wrote the amount, and presented it to the stunned hostess. In a lower voice, he hissed, "Don't play coy, I know about your gambling debts."

Moira seized the check with wide, eager eyes.

"I own this boat now." Hisashi strode up to the rude, drunk woman. "Get off my property."

At first, the crowd was silent, then they started laughing raucously. The woman fled the boat in tears.

Hisashi put an arm around Izuku. "Inspecting my new property," he said with a smirk as he steered them outside. Looking over the railing, he handed Izuku a handkerchief.

Izuku blew his nose. It took him a moment to stem the flow of tears.

Hisashi patted his back. "You'll get better at handling them with training. I'll teach you."

Izuku wasn't sure he wanted to get used to this. He appreciated the save but wished it had been done in a way that hadn't drawn even more attention to him. But it would be ungrateful to say anything except, "Thank you, Uncle Hisashi."

Hisashi's gaze grew wistful. "You could call me 'Dad.' I'll be raising you from now on. If only everything had gone as it should have, you would have grown up calling me Dad."

Izuku didn't know what that meant, but the suggestion felt like a betrayal to his fathers. To get out of answering, he sniffled. A few more tears convinced Hisashi to take Izuku back home.

Several days of tutoring passed smoothly. Hisashi complimented Izuku on his progress. At the end of the week, Izuku picked Tomura Shigaraki as his tutor as if it was guaranteed that he would come back to live here forever. Izuku had noticed that Hisashi was calmer as long as he maintained the illusion that there was no court case with an outcome that would not be entirely in either of their control.

On the very last day, Hisashi fussed over Izuku before bundling him up in a heavy fur coat—at tad too heavy for the fall weather. There were a lot of hugs. Anxiously, Hisashi asked, "You won't listen to anything the blond oaf says, will you?"

"Of course not," Izuku said. Actually he planned to keep his options open, but he would only make life more difficult for himself if he told Hisashi that. Currently Izuku did feel more inclined to stay with Hisashi, who was his only living family member, clearly loved him deeply, and treated him with great generosity. But Izuku was a little skeptical that his voice would count for much no matter what the judge said. In either custody situation, he would need to stay on good terms with his guardian to survive.

Toshinori showed up at the mansion gates with a police escort. It was rather obvious that he did not trust Hisashi to hand over Izuku. Indeed, Hisashi did grip Izuku's hand a bit too tightly. Possessively, Hisashi pulled Izuku into one last hug. Toshinori's eyes crinkled and his hands clenched. Finally, Hisashi let go.

Toshinori stepped forward. His smile was nervous. "I suppose I should say nice to meet you? Since you don't remember me from before your amnesia."

Determined to get off on the right foot with the man who would control his fate for the next week, Izuku said, "Nice to meet you." He offered a handshake because he felt hugged-out.

With possessive red eyes burning into his back, Izuku left with his second potential guardian.

OMAKE TIME!

Omake: Class Differences

Hisashi: I'm going to show you to two of the most prestigious private schools in New York.

Izuku: Whoa, I'm impressed.

Hisashi: The facilities are adequate for a child of your status.

Izuku: The teachers go to school unarmed.

#

Omake: Truth from a Certain Point of View

Izuku: Tell me how my fathers died.

Hisashi: …First I need to know how much you already know. For reasons.

Author's Note: The 1920s was a time of segregation in the United States. Asian-Americans had a fluid status, sometimes segregated and sometimes not, often depending on their social class. No amount of money would have gotten Izuku into that private school if he'd been Black.

Psst, here's a secret! Tomura Shigaraki is actually Tenko Shimura, Nana's nephew. The One for All holders are the same generation in this AU, so Nana is too young to be a grandmother. Tenko had a good childhood and a good relationship with his aunt. Nana sent Tenko to apply for the tutor position under a fake name to check up on how Izuku was doing living with Hisashi. The past holders all felt very nervous about leaving Izuku alone with Hisashi so they wanted a spy on their side.

The amazingly talented Artistic Hermit has drawn Izuku's locket with his parents. Yoichi and Second are rocking those stylish 1920s outfits. I adore the smiles on their faces and little Izuku is the epitome of cuteness. Delete the spaces to get the link:
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