Inside of the seemingly abandoned factory, Overhaul led Mirio toward the far side of the room. A crowd of suited guards were gathered around a hatch in the floor, seemingly waiting for their arrival. Overhaul snapped his fingers as the pair of men reached the others. One of the men lifted his hand, and with it, the trapdoor rose as if on command. Below the concrete covering was a descending staircase leading back toward the entrance and deep underground. The stairwell was well-lit and carpeted with plush red material that seemed incredibly out of place for a worn-down warehouse.

"Come. Close the door behind us," Overhaul instructed as he began his descent with Mirio right behind him.

"You got it," one of the thugs replied as they waited for the others to file onto the staircase.

Mirio immediately coughed as he made the transition beneath the ground. Though the descending tunnel was uncomfortably cramped, what struck him as more disturbing was the smell. Where acrid factory smoke had once clogged the air, the claustrophobic tunnel was instead heavy with cigarette smoke instead. The bitter scent and taste of the air almost gave Mirio a headache, and he wrinkled his nose as he continued downward.

"You'll get used to it," Overhaul said confidently. "I can't imagine many people smoke at U.A., do they?"

"Not really, no," Mirio confirmed as he pinched his nose. "It smells like it's trapped in the carpet…"

"Could be," Overhaul considered as he put his hands in his pockets and arrived at the bottom of the staircase. "You'll find far more unpleasant things than smoke here, hero. Watch your tongue, especially around Arowana. Be careful who you speak to."

Mirio nodded as he followed Overhaul into the entrance chamber of the Shie Hassaikai headquarters, only for his jaw to drop as he took in the sights. The room was illuminated by burning torches affixed to bright red painted columns with jade accents, as well as an array of crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling of the chamber. The red carpeting continued down onto the dark wooden floor, which was accented with golden diamond patterns resembling the scales of a fish. The final, and most noticeably gaudy detail of note was a tall, golden statue of a man wearing flowing robes and a straw hat, holding what appeared to be a swordless hilt. Though Mirio didn't recognize the man depicted by the statue, its very presence combined with the fact that it stood at twice his height unnerved him greatly upon his first glance.

The chamber was wide and long enough such that the far end wasn't visible from the doorway, and several members of the Yakuza sat upon red velvet couches around glass tables while drinking, smoking, gambling, and talking quietly amongst themselves. As Overhaul and Mirio entered with an escort of guards behind them, several individuals at the closer tables looked over in their direction. Mirio tried to smile back at them, and suddenly found that for once, he didn't have it in him.

Perhaps it was only then that it had dawned upon him where he was.

"Back already, Overhaul?" a husky feminine voice asked from close by. "Looks like your mission was a success."

Mirio looked to his left to find a woman unlike any he had ever seen in person standing before him. She was tall- almost as tall as Mirio, and her skin was a dark olive in tone. Her eyes were a piercing amber, and her nose, ears, and lip were pierced. Her chin-length black hair had blonde tips, and the bridge of her nose was rounded and protruding, in stark contrast to most noses in Japan. Unlike the majority of the other members of the Shie Hassaikai, she didn't wear a suit, or really, anything like one at all. Instead, she wore black lipstick, a simple white, form-fitting crop top with spaghetti straps and a black leather pleated skirt with fishnet stockings beneath it. Her outfit was completed by thigh-high wraparound boots with golden buttons up the sides, but her eccentricities didn't stop there.

All across the canvas of her skin was something that Mirio had fully expected to see in his time with the Shie Hassaikai, but not so early or in such volume. It seemed that nearly every inch of her skin below the neck was tattooed in colorful patterns of some sort that were proudly on display. Though he did his best not to simply gawk at her ink or her features, he noticed immediately that the majority of the inked artwork upon her skin was of some sort of monsters, mythical figures, or arcane symbols.

"Dreamgirl," Overhaul replied, his face and tone undecipherable. "This is him, alright."

The woman that had been christened 'Dreamgirl' gave Mirio a wide, friendly smile, and he found himself taken aback. Something about the earnestness and warmth of her expression struck him as disturbing, as though finding nothing malicious or scheming in her features was a surprise.

"A pleasure," the woman said with a tilt of her head as she offered her hand. "What should I call you?"

"Oh, uh," Mirio began with a guilty grin as he took the woman's hand and used his other to scratch the back of his head. "I… I'm not sure, just yet."

Dreamgirl looked around Mirio as she kept a firm grip upon his hand and raised a penciled brow at Overhaul.

"You're not already filling his head with old-blood nonsense, are you?" she asked before turning her attention back to Mirio. "You can use peoples' names in here if you're comfortable with it. It's only the old men that will give you trouble for it. Rizumu Saku."

Mirio could hear Overhaul hissing softly in disdain behind him, but he couldn't help returning Rizumu's welcoming smile.

"In that case… Mirio Togata."

"Togata it is," Rizumu acknowledged as she finally let her hand drop. "Going to see the boss?"

"Yes," Overhaul snapped as he narrowed his eyes at Rizumu. "And I would appreciate it if you didn't flout your loose interpretation of the rules and customs with someone trying to make a good first impression."

"As if you don't agree with my interpretation," Rizumu shot back while folding her arms across her chest. "But fine, fine. If you want him tense and uncomfortable in his first days here, more power to you. That approach didn't do anything for me, but I'm not the one responsible for breaking him in."

"No, you're not," Overhaul agreed before beckoning to Mirio and beginning to walk. "Come."

"…it was nice meeting you, anyway!" Mirio offered with a wave as he moved to follow Overhaul.

"Togata!" Rizumu called, prompting Mirio to look back over his shoulder at her. "You have any questions, text me! Overhaul can give you my number!"

Mirio waved in acknowledgement and quickly noticed that their escort of thugs had vanished into the crowd of other seated individuals. Somehow, the chamber seemed to grow even larger as they walked through it, and Mirio began to notice more and more statuary, artistic wall scrolls, and racks of expensive bottles of alcohol.

"…be careful around Dreamgirl," Overhaul warned as he slowed his pace to let Mirio catch up to him.

"Hm? Why?" Mirio asked as he lowered his voice to match the other man's hushed tone. "She seems genuinely nice."

"She is, but she's giving you dangerous advice about names," Overhaul acknowledged as he made a sudden diversion toward the center of the room. "She's also Dabi's girl."

"…Dabi?" Mirio asked, his face full of concern.

"Who we're visiting now," Overhaul replied coldly. "He doesn't like people getting too friendly with Dreamgirl, especially when she's on the job."

"I thought we were headed for the boss…?" Mirio asked.

"We are," Overhaul agreed as he began to approach a lone figure seated upon a couch with a bottle of sake on the glass table before himself. "But I'm doing you a favor by bringing you to Dabi first. Get the package ready."

Mirio reached down into his paper bag and pulled out a large, book-sized parcel wrapped in similar brown paper and a crossed length of yarn. Simply holding the brick of cocaine filled Mirio with anxiety, and he could feel his shoulders tensing horribly as he finally got close enough to see the man he assumed to be Dabi.

Just like Rizumu, Dabi had eschewed typical Yakuza fashion for his own sense of style. Unlike his girlfriend, though, he seemed incredibly comfortable in cheap, torn, messy clothing. Dabi was clad in only a frayed white sleeveless t-shirt and black, ripped jeans with holes in the knees, a studded belt, and a silver wallet chain. His hair was a messy field of disorganized black spikes, and his eyes were a pleasant sky blue, which contrasted his rather unpleasant skin.

If Mirio hadn't seen him sitting so casually, cigarette held lightly between his fingers as he sat with one leg crossed over the other and bouncing his foot to an absent rhythm, he would have though that Dabi was dead. Beneath both of his eyes were patches of charred, sagging, wrinkled skin akin to that of a burn victim, and his lower jaw and the entirety of his neck were of the same burnt pallor. Through the holes within his shirt and jeans, Mirio could see that more patches of random, burned flesh were scattered all over his body, and each was surrounded by thick surgical staples. It was impossible to tell whether the ruined skin had been grafted onto his body for some reason, or if it was being simply held in place by the staples to keep from sloughing off.

"Overhaul," Dabi said with a grin so wide that Mirio thought his facial staples might rip apart, "and the new kid. What a pleasant surprise. Don't tell me you brought me a present?"

"I did, actually," Mirio said, keeping his voice as light and friendly as he could through the tension. "Call me Togata."

Suddenly, as Mirio tossed the package through the air and Dabi caught it one-handed, the burned man's facial expression changed from an unsettling grin to a serious, searching stare. He kept his eyes locked to Mirio's for a moment as he kept the package held aloft, seemingly studying the man's face. Mirio didn't blink.

"Togata, huh?" Dabi asked as his smile slowly crept back over his features. "Interesting. Unusual. I like unusual things, you know."

"I know," Overhaul cut in. "But we can't keep the boss waiting. I just figured you would want to meet the new blood before we made our way downstairs."

"You figured right," Dabi agreed as he deposited the cocaine down next to his sake, took his cigarette in his teeth, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and rose from the couch. Dabi walked around the glass table and right up to Mirio, where he stood with his head tilted slightly to one side. "I hear you were supposed to be a hero. I don't like heroes."

"Dabi…" Overhaul said cautiously as he stepped forward, only for the other man to put a hand out and thrust his palm into the center of his chest to hold him back.

"No, no- I want to hear what he has to say," Dabi said softly. "Face like that, you wouldn't lie to me. Would you?"

Mirio steeled himself and did his best not to blink again as he let his expression fall into a frown.

"…I'm no hero. Not anymore. I'm just pretending to be one, at this point."

Dabi exhaled streams of smoke through his nose and plucked his cigarette from his mouth before clapping a hand heavily onto Mirio's shoulder.

"Pay attention, and I think you'll find that you're not the only one. Don't let me keep you fuckers any longer. I'm satisfied with your little tribute. Run along, before the man up top gets impatient."

"Will do," Mirio acknowledged as he gave Dabi a nod and moved to follow Overhaul once again. "See you around."

"Yeah," Dabi agreed as he took a puff of his cigarette. "You've got that right…"

Author's Note:

Next time, a return to Bakugo and Deku… and then the first meeting with The Boss.

-RD