Eight years earlier

Izuku marched out of the Yagi mansion, trying desperately not to look back. A duffel bag was sling over his shoulder; it contained all his possessions, everything he'd ever had that he could really call his. Everything else was…well, it just felt like an accident, a hiccup of fate. The mansion, the limousine waiting to take him to the airport…it was all because of the man arm-in-arm with his mother at the top of the stairs, watching him go, not him.

Izuku finally lost the battle against the urge to look back; he craned his neck as he half-turned to see what he was leaving behind. Inko was openly crying, a sight that stabbed Izuku through the heart; Toshinori, meanwhile, stood tall and steady as he watched his adopted son go, his eyes warm but understanding. He'd been the one to suggest this, after all; he'd recognized that the weight of all the changes happening in his life was slowly crushing Izuku, that he simply could not handle the adjustments necessary to turn a boy who had been the child of a working-class single mother into the heir of the greatest noble House in Japan, not without cracking or breaking or losing something fundamental to who he was.

This was necessary, this journey to America; it didn't make it hurt any less to see his mother sobbing on the steps as he turned his back on her. Still, Izuku forced himself to go.

He got the duffel loaded into the limo, then hopped inside; a butler closed the door behind him, and then, at last, he said, "Haneda airport."

The driver nodded, and the limo pulled away from the Yagi manor. For a moment, Izuku was able to just sit back, relax, and breathe.

Which was, naturally, when a voice from the seat next to him said, "So, you really went through with it, eh?"

Izuku jumped in his seat. He whipped his head around, to find Katsuki motherfucking Bakugo sitting there, arms behind his head, dirty boots up on the gorgeous leather interior, and that goddamn grin on his stupid face.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Izuku demanded. He hadn't seen Bakugo in nearly two months; he'd become so consumed by the abrupt shift in his life, by becoming the stepson of Toshinori Yagi, that he'd completely fallen out of the pipeline to enter the Yagi House Guard. He and Bakugo had been training together-he should've been graduating the program now, guaranteed a life of good pay and prestige as a member of the most elite fighting force in Japan. "Shouldn't you be a Guardmember by now?"

Bakugo reached into a pocket as the limousine picked up speed, pulling out a lighter. "Oh, yeah, that," he said mildly, flipping the cap off and on again. "Dropped out a few weeks back."

Izuku stared at him, wide-eyed. Ever since they were kids, Bakugo had declared to anyone that would listen that his goal in life-the only thing he'd ever wanted-was to join the Guard. For a boy with a quirk like his, growing up literally in the shadow of the great Yagi mansion, it was the most logical course of action; for Izuku, who hadn't had a quirk but had the sheer goddamn stubbornness to make up for it, it had been harder, but still every bit as strong a dream. In Musutafu, any job worth having was tied to House Yagi; you worked in a Yagi factory or business, served the Yagi estate, were protected by the Yagi House Guard. The two of them had trained their whole lives for that opportunity…the opportunity that Bakugo had apparently just thrown away.

"You can't be serious," Izuku said, horrified. "Why would you do that?"

Bakugo snorted. "As it turns out," he said, sounding disgusted, "I'm damn good at killin' shit. I'm less good at followin' orders. It's all "wait for the signal" and "avoid collateral damage" and "Oi! Rookie! Stop blowing up the whole damn building!" Fuck that shit. Seems to me, my talents would be better served as a soldier of fortune, like I hear a certain someone is about to become."

Izuku's eyes narrowed. "Lord Yagi's making you do this, isn't he?" he hissed.

Bakugo raised an eyebrow. "Nobody makes me do anything," he shot back.

"Don't give me that shit," Izuku snapped. "You're trying to make me believe that you gave up on your dream on a fucking whim?"

Bakugo put his feet down at last, slipped the lighter he'd been playing with back into his pocket, and fixed Izuku with a red-eyed stare that dropped all pretense, revealing the deadly seriousness behind the veil of sarcasm.

"Listen here, Deku," he said, using his old half-joking, half-insulting nickname for Izuku, the one that had almost become a mark of affection over the years. "Yeah, it's true that I was damn close to makin' it. But, honestly? We made that deal to get in together; once you dropped, I was already halfway out the door. What would've been the point? But your stepdaddy knew it too. So, if he maybe pulled me outta training and told me that you were about to go gallivantin' off on a grand expedition to get yourself fuckin' killed, now I don't see how that's any of your damn business."

Izuku growled. "I do not need a fucking babysitter, Kacchan," he snapped. "I am not letting you tag along just so Lord Yagi can jerk me around like a puppet on a string."

Bakugo chuckled. "You see me babysitting a fuckin' thing?" he asked. "I'm coming along because you need somebody to watch your goddamn back the first time you get into a fight you can't win, you dumbass. And don't worry-I ain't telling the old fucker a goddamn thing once we touch down in America."

Izuku…kinda had to concede that one. Besides, he had been apprehensive about trying to enter the mercenary world completely solo, with nobody to rely on but himself. Despite his many, many flaws and the long, messy history they shared, Bakugo was his friend. One way or another, they'd grown up together, trained together, dreamed of the future together. Izuku trusted him with his life. Should he? Probably not, but that chicken was well and truly out of the coop by now.

He slumped in his seat. "I'm never getting rid of you, am I?" he muttered. He didn't bother to say "thank you;" he knew Bakugo would hear his gratitude anyway, and they had known each other for far too long to need words to communicate. "Fucking typical. I get ready to halfway across the world to get away from you, and there you still fucking are, causing me headaches."

Bakugo grinned irreverently. "I'm like fleas on a rat, my friend," he replied. "Wherever you go, I'll be there."

Izuku really shouldn't have been reassured by that. But somehow, he was.

Present day

It was a miracle Izuku's patience lasted long enough to drag Bakugo out of the room by his lapels and into the empty hallway before slamming him into the wall.

"You have ten fucking seconds," he hissed, "to convince me not to kill you."

For his part, Bakugo somehow managed to look smug while being threatened by one of the most terrifying men alive. "Jeez," he chuckled. "Guess noble hospitality ain't all it's cracked up to be."

Izuku growled. "Start talking, you son of a bitch," he snapped. "Why are you here? What scheme are you pulling now?"

Bakugo rolled his eyes, even as Izuku hauled him up higher, leaving his feet dangling helplessly off the floor.

"Oh, quit being so damn dramatic about it," he replied. "Can't a man find gainful employment these days?"

Izuku snorted. "You're about as likely to find "gainful employment" as you are to find God, Kacchan," he snapped. "Do you have any idea how dangerous these people are?"

Bakugo's only response was a smirk. "Everyone keeps saying that," he said. "But their security's shit. I literally just stole an extra uniform and I've been able to walk around all night."

Filing that away for later, Izuku shot back, "If they found you, I wouldn't be able to pull your ass out of the fire, you know that, right? And I do mean that literally. Lady Todoroki would roast you alive."

Bakugo raised an eyebrow. "Lady Todoroki, eh?" he asked. "That the one that was trying to get you to look at her tits all night?"

Izuku's eye twitched. On the one hand, Katsuki was making it very tempting to squish him like a bug. On the other hand…he had noticed Shoko's outfit. It was fucking impossible not to notice it. And dear fucking God, it was almost unreal how gorgeous she was.

Izuku was a master of self-control; he had to be, with One For All's awesome power at his fingertips. But he was thankful that his interaction with Shoko tonight had been brief, because if it had lasted much longer, he was pretty sure he would have been reduced to a babbling chimpanzee by that fucking woman.

Taking a breath, Izuku growled, "Stop trying to distract me, Kacchan. Answer the fucking question."

Bakugo finally sighed. "Alright, alright," he said. "But set me down, first. Or do you want to explain this shit if someone walks in on us?"

Reluctantly, Izuku did so. Bakugo took a second to straighten his tie-Izuku genuinely couldn't tell if he was doing it just to fuck with him, or if Bakugo was just really in-character right now, both were entirely possible-before glancing to either side, and leaning up against the wall.

"I'm just here keeping an eye on things," he said with a shrug. "After that train robbery-"

Izuku narrowed his eyes. "Did the old man put you up to this?" he demanded.

Bakugo snorted dismissively. "Fuck no," he replied. "I'm here on my own time. I'm just trying to keep my ear low to the ground, y'know?"

Izuku looked at him skeptically-but not entirely. Bakugo had always had a good eye and a better ear for trouble; he was a very unsubtle man, to be sure, but his instincts for information gathering and his intuition for covert operations were second to none. If he thought there was something here worth "keeping an eye on," Izuku was inclined to believe him. Or at least, he would be, if he wasn't still seething over him being here in the first place. "Listening for what?" he asked suspiciously.

Bakugo hesitated-something that instantly made Izuku very uneasy.

"Alright," he said slowly. "Look, Round Cheeks and I have been asking around in the right places, and whatever team hit the Iida train is recruiting. Hard."

Izuku frowned. He did not like the sound of that.

"How do you know?" he asked, knowing full well what Bakugo meant by the right places, and having no desire to stir up memories of crime bosses and smoky rooms populated by the sorts of men you never turned your back to.

Bakugo hesitated again. "We got an offer," he said curtly. "Said they're looking for fighters. Offered damn good money too-if they're making that offer to others, they'll be getting plenty of takers."

Izuku's eyes widened. "Seriously?" he asked. "Don't they know who you are?"

Bakugo shook his head. "It was through a middleman who didn't know us," he explained. "Hell, I'd be shocked if it was only one middleman. More likely, there's three or four people between whoever sent us the offer to join up and whoever's actually running the operation. But it confirms what I was worrying about-there's something up. Something big. Someone out there has a whole lot of hired muscle, and they're hitting the Great Houses."

Izuku was dead silent for a moment, processing that. At last, he summed it all up: "Fuck. Any idea what their next move is?"

Bakugo looked at him dryly. "If I did, I wouldn't be here serving wine to self-important dickheads, now would I?" he answered.

Izuku had to concede that point. "Alright," he said. "Keep an ear out-if it turns out to be one of the other Houses stirring up shit, we need to know. Just…give me advance warning if you pull something like this again, yeah?"

Bakugo's response was a raised eyebrow and a meaningful glance at his fine suit-and especially at the long glove pulled over his left hand and forearm. "I thought you wanted to stay out of this life," he reminded Izuku. "Become a morally upstanding citizen and all that."

Izuku was quiet for a moment, considering how he could possibly respond to that. Finally, he sighed.

"I'm not doing anything," he shot back. "Just staying informed. That's hardly getting back into the game, is it?"

A snort escaped Bakugo's nostrils. "If you say so," he replied ominously.

Instead of dealing with the fact that Bakugo saw through him like a pane of glass, Izuku decided to change the subject.

"If you want a way in," he told Bakugo, "You and Uraraka can pretend to be Yagi attendants at the duel in a few days. That should give you plenty of cover to move around without being questioned."

Bakugo considered it for a moment, then nodded. "Sounds good to me," he agreed. "We should probably get out of here then-don't want anyone recognizing our faces when we get there."

He turned to do just that, but he only made it a few steps down the hall before a chill went down Izuku's spine.

"Wait a second," he realized. "We?" "Our?"

Bakugo paused, turning back to face him with a truly evil smirk on his face. "What?" he asked. "You think I wouldn't come to a shithole like this without backup?"

Izuku crossed the distance between them in a rush. "You brought Uraraka to infiltrate a noble party?" he hissed. "Are you fucking insane?"

Bakugo just grinned wider. "She promised she'd be on her best behavior," he assured Izuku, who was not reassured.

"Where the hell is she?" he demanded, mentally preparing himself to try and hunt down one of the most destructive people he'd ever met without starting a fucking House War.

"Relax, I'll get her," Bakugo replied, rolling his eyes. "Don't worry your pretty noble head about it."

Izuku, realizing that there was literally no chance he would pry Uraraka's location out of Bakugo, could only sigh and watch him walk away. As soon as he was out of sight, Izuku turned to head the other way-there was a door that led back into the main hall, maybe he'd get lucky and spot the sniper across the room or something.

He made his way to the door-only to come face-to-face with Kaminari Denki, who came through it just as Izuku reached it.

For a moment, Izuku wondered if it would be rude to push past the shorter man-but then, Kaminari met his eyes, and something in his eyes made Izuku stop.

"Ah, there you are," Kaminari said. "I was hoping to talk, if you have a minute."

Izuku briefly considered the possibility of ignoring the man and trying to bulldoze past him, but forced himself to calm down. Surely Uraraka couldn't cause that much trouble all by herself, right?

(She absolutely could. Who was he kidding?)

Sighing to himself, Izuku decided that he'd made enough enemies today. "Of course, Lord Kaminari," he said cordially. "What do you want to talk about?"

Kaminari nodded towards a door further down the hallway. "Why don't we talk somewhere…quieter?" he suggested. "I'd rather not be overheard, if you don't mind."

That made Izuku more curious. What did Kaminari have to say that he wanted to stay a secret? He inclined his head. "Very well," he agreed.

Kaminari led him through the door, which turned out to open onto a balcony with a lovely overhead view of the gardens below. From this angle, the geometric shapes of hedges and flower beds seemed to weave together, producing an almost hypnotic pattern. Izuku watched as Kaminari leaned on the railing, looking out into the quiet night.

"You delivered quite the spectacle in there, you know," he said.

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "That was sort of the point," he replied bluntly. He wasn't quite sure how to take Kaminari's demeanor; he seemed simultaneously anxious and at ease, constantly jumpy and yet supremely casual. It made Izuku uneasy.

Kaminari turned to look at him, and once again, Izuku found himself wondering just how much of the hapless fool he'd pegged the man as was an act. Like any good act, it was impossible to tell.

"I suppose that's fair enough," Kaminari said, grinning. "Though I do wonder-do you know what you've done, challenging Lord Monoma?"

Izuku frowned. "Are you suggesting I made a mistake?" he said in a low voice.

Despite the danger in Izuku's expression, Kaminari met his eyes easily. "You're the only one who can make that judgment, I'm afraid," he said breezily. "But, well, you are new around here, so I feel like a warning is only fair, yes?"

Izuku's eyes narrowed. "What sort of warning?" he rumbled.

Once more, Kaminari looked thoroughly unimpressed. "Oh, don't be like that," he said. "I'm not here to intimidate you on Monoma's behalf or some shit like that. Frankly, I'm mildly insulted that you thought I would support him at all. The thing is, quite a few Houses will support him in this duel, Lord Izuku. House Monoma is old, proud, and powerful-and beyond that, there are those who see you as an outsider, and worse, a commoner."

There was something to the twist of Kaminari's lip as he spoke that last word that nearly made Izuku chuckle, the irony in his voice was so strong. However, even that couldn't distract him for long. Mildly, he said, "I fail to see how their support matters all that much. I'm only fighting Lord Monoma, after all."

In response, Kaminari smiled. "Well, it seems that this conversation wasn't in vain, after all," he said brightly. "Tell me, Lord Izuku, do you even know what Monoma's quirk is?"

Izuku hesitated-because he didn't. Kaminari noticed immediately, and, raising an eyebrow, remarked, "Well, then. I suppose you're either supremely confident in your abilities-or just a fool. For the record, his quirk is called Copy-and it does exactly what the name suggests. If he touches someone, he can use their powers for around five minutes."

Izuku frowned-then shrugged to himself. That was a powerful quirk, yes. But it wouldn't matter. One For All was simply too strong.

"I can see how the number of supporters he has would matter," he mused. "But how many would he actually have?"

Kaminari shrugged. "In addition to political considerations, House Monoma are among the largest bankers in Japan," he replied. "They lend money to many other Houses-I imagine it would be quite simple for them to call in some favors and debts owed."

Izuku nodded to himself-then paused. Turning back to Kaminari, he eyed the man suspiciously for a long moment before asking, "If I may be so blunt…why are you telling me this?"

Kaminari grinned lazily. "Ah, so you've learned our ways already, I see," he said. "You're quite right-nobody does anything out of the goodness of their hearts, in this world. I suppose honesty is the best policy, then. You see, I have a few reasons. For one thing, I really, really hate Monoma."

Izuku couldn't help but laugh at that-because, well, it made perfect sense. Monoma was an asshole; he supposed that was plenty of motivation.

But Kaminari continued, "Beyond that, though…I have another reason. You see, someone close to me knows quite a bit about you. According to them, you're one of the most dangerous men alive."

Izuku's eyes narrowed once more. "If that were true," he said carefully, neither confirming nor denying, "then would drawing my attention really be the best move?"

Kaminari smiled wider. "That certainly is the risk, isn't it?" he asked rhetorically. "But, the way I see it, dangerous men can be dangerous enemies-or, if you play your cards right, powerful friends. Personally, I'd much rather be on your good side than not. You strike me as the sort of man who can appreciate someone not interested in stabbing him in the back."

Izuku…had to admit that Kaminari had him pretty much figured out. And frankly, he did like the idea of having someone he could at least sort of trust in this fucking world-even if that trust only went as far as he could throw Kaminari. Luckily, that was pretty far.

"That makes sense to me," he agreed. "If that was your goal, it's worked, Lord Kaminari. I appreciate it."

Kaminari's grin grew brighter. "You're quite welcome, Lord Izuku," he said affably. He stuck out his hand, and Izuku took it. The two of them shook-and then Kaminari said, "Now, if you don't mind, I rather suspect we have one other thing to discuss-our eavesdropper."

With that, he stepped over to the closed door that led back into the mansion, and opened it to reveal the dark-suited figure of his bodyguard, Jirou. Her odd, elongated earlobes were plugged into the wall-Izuku suspected that they were some form of enhanced hearing, judging by the way they resembled headphone jacks as they plucked themselves out of the mahogany facade.

"There you are, my dear," Kaminari said, grinning. "You know you could've just knocked, right?"

Izuku's eyes widened in surprise, but the woman didn't even seem embarrassed to have been caught spying on two great lords in private conversation. Instead, her arms were crossed, and she looked ferociously indignant.

"Denki fucking Kaminari!" she hissed. "I look away for five goddamn seconds, and you immediately run off and go talk to…fucking Titan?"

Izuku raised an eyebrow as Jirou blurted his old name out in surprise the moment she spotted him lurking behind the target of her fury. So, she did know who he was. Interesting.

"I don't believe we've met," he said mildly. "It seems you have me at a disadvantage."

Jirou's eyes narrowed dangerously, but Kaminari stepped in instead. "Lord Izuku, this is Kyoka Jirou. Kyoka, this is Lord Izuku."

Jirou made no effort to get any closer to him. "You better have a damn good explanation for why you wandered right into the most dangerous man in Japan," she snapped, turning back to her charge.

Kaminari's response was a grin and a kiss pressed to the back of Jirou's knuckles-an act of affection so bizarre, it made Izuku recall all those rumors about what their relationship really was. It seemed there might just be some truth to them after all.

"I was simply making friends, my dear Kyoka," Kaminari explained.

Jirou glared at him. "We are in public, Denki," she hissed frantically, jerking her head at Izuku, who simply raised an eyebrow. Yep. Definitely something going on there.

"For what it's worth, Miss Jirou, Lord Kaminari has nothing to fear from me," he said, smiling. "Actually, I'm quite grateful to him-he had some excellent advice to give me."

Slowly, Jirou nodded. "Well, then," she said slowly, "I…guess we should get going, then."

"Very well," Kaminari agreed. "Farewell, Lord Izuku. Good luck in your duel. I will be eagerly awaiting your victory."

Izuku grinned. "Thank you very much, Lord Kaminari," he replied.

He watched the two of them disappear back into the manor, noting how, as soon as she thought Izuku wasn't looking, Jirou allowed Kaminari to link their hands together, fingers tightly interlaced.

It was nice to have at least one person who he could trust in this snake pit. Maybe two, if he didn't murder her totally-not-lover.

Shoko allowed Momo to drag her all the way up to an isolated balcony before her patience finally wore thin.

"If you've got something to say, Momo," she said dryly, "I really would like to hear it now."

Momo turned to her, having closed the curtains to give them as much privacy as possible.

"Very well," she said, holding Shoko's gaze. "Lady Todoroki…what on earth do you think you're doing?"

The tone of Momo's voice instantly put Shoko on her guard. That was not a tone she heard often-it was all ice and steel, frosty and disdainful. There was no humor in it, no wink, none of the camaraderie or the vocabulary of in-jokes that she and Momo had developed over the years. This was not Momo. This was Lady Yaoyorozu in all her fury-and, Shoko recalled now, the second most dangerous woman in Japan.

"You'll have to be more specific, Lady Yaoyorozu," she said, cool as always.

Momo studied her for a moment, as if assessing her, subtly elaborate braid, risqué dress and all. Shoko did not like being studied; it reminded her of her father's calculating gaze, always judging her to see if she was worthy of carrying on his precious legacy.

At last, Momo said, more calmly this time, "Was that why you dressed like this? To dine with Lord Midoriya?"

Shoko raised an eyebrow. "I fail to see how that is your concern," she said dryly. If Momo wanted to play it this way, Shoko would remind her where they stood.

Momo's gaze began to harden, something in the air around them curdling a little. Soft-hearted Momo may have been, but she still had a noblewoman's pride-and a killer instinct.

"Lady Shoko," she said, "I am just trying to make sense of this. Ever since you met Lord Midoriya, you've been acting…odd. Tonight is no exception."

Shoko returned Momo's even-keeled, unreadable stare without effort. "I fail to see why you think my behavior is linked in any way with Lord Midoriya," she said, all ice beneath her mask.

Now it was Momo's turn to raise an eyebrow. "I have eyes, Lady Shoko," she said dryly. "And if he has them, he'll have noticed too."

She gestured at Shoko's dress again, and for the first time, wearing it made Shoko feel exposed instead of empowered. Vulnerable.

Shoko hadn't been vulnerable since the day her mother poured a kettle of boiling water on her face. She had sworn to herself that she would never be vulnerable again. To restore that feeling-to claw back some of the armor she could feel starting to crack-she took the path of the cornered animal, and went on the attack.

"You have yet to convince me that you have any right to be meddling in what I do with my time or who I do it with," she said darkly, the tone of her voice a warning.

Of course, Momo was made of stuff too stern to be dissuaded by that warning, so she simply replied, "I'm only trying to help you, Lady Shoko. Lord Midoriya…he makes me nervous. I worry that our usual games will end…badly with him."

Shoko frowned-partly at Momo's claims of helping, and partly because she hadn't ever picked up on Momo's apparent unease. "I thought you liked Lord Midoriya," she said, confused.

Momo met her eyes, and Shoko saw clearly how disquieted she was-a rare glimpse behind the steel curtain of her noble mask. "Most of the time, yes," she admitted. "But every so often, he'll say something, or get a certain look in his eyes, this… flash. And then I get a chill down my spine. It's like he's…"

"A lion in a field of sheep," Shoko muttered, finishing Momo's sentence-because she'd thought of it too, watching Izuku face down Lord Monoma. Only…where Momo had been intimidated, Shoko had felt something very different. Intrigue, excitement, desire, even. As much as she really, really didn't want to admit it-lust was a useless emotion, a distraction and nothing more-she knew herself well enough to admit what she felt when she saw Izuku Midoriya.

Momo nodded, swallowing heavily as she saw the look on Shoko's face. "I just…I worry what a man like him might be capable of, if you push him too far," she finished. "He's dangerous, and I don't want you to get hurt."

Shoko's eyes narrowed again. That look, that tone…it felt like Momo was pitying her somehow, like she was talking as if Shoko was a child playing with a hot stove…or a boiling kettle.

"If you recall, Lady Yaoyorozu, I am also dangerous," she said in a low, dark voice. "If anyone should be scared of getting hurt, perhaps it's you."

That was as blatant a threat as Shoko had ever had to make in her relationship with Momo, and it finally had the desired effect; the taller woman took a few unsteady steps back as she saw the look in Shoko's eyes, the menace that rolled off her in waves. At long last, she stopped talking…but Shoko could tell that she had pushed too hard. There was a hardness under Momo's submission now, a little knot of resentment that hadn't been there before. A friction point that could fray and fray until everything tore apart.

"Very well, Lady Todoroki," Momo sighed. "I know I can't stop you. Just…I'm on your side, you know that, right?"

Shoko's expression didn't soften. "Then perhaps you should act like it," she shot back.

She didn't wait to see Momo's reaction. Instead, she turned and slipped past the curtain, ignoring the hubbub that floated up from the Great Hall as word spread of Lord Izuku's challenge. Brushing past a female waiter with short brown hair carrying a platter of food, she went looking for her security detail-it was time to leave. She had an outfit to plan for the duel, after all. It wouldn't do to show up in anything but her very best.

When Izuku got home, he had hoped to make it to bed in a timely manner-he had preparations to make, after all. But instead, he found Sir Nighteye waiting for him on the front steps.

"There you are, boy," he said scathingly as Izuku stepped out of the Yagi limousine. "Come. Lord Yagi wants to speak to you."

Izuku frowned. "About what?" he asked. "Has there been another attack?"

Nighteye shook his head. "No," he replied. "This is about your… behavior."

That made Izuku very nervous. He knew Nighteye was no fan of his-he'd made that quite clear when Toshinori had first chosen him as heir. To his eyes, the position should have gone to a more capable-not to mention Quirked-man, not one who required such extensive training to achieve even basic competence in the complex skills required to lead a Great House.

But Izuku had been determined, and no matter how brutal or unfair the training had been, he'd hurled himself into it. That had at least earned Nighteye's respect-or so Izuku thought; the man held his feelings so close to his chest that they were nearly impossible to read. But at the very least, he didn't think Nighteye would lie to him, at least about his beloved Lord's words.

"Well, then," Izuku managed to say. "Let's not keep him waiting."

Nighteye nodded, but said nothing. Instead, he merely turned and went inside, leaving Izuku to follow him.

As always, the manor felt cold and quiet to Izuku; he knew that Inko had worked hard to change that, to put some life into the vast stately house, but she could only do so much against the sheer mass of the place. It had its own gravity, its own inertia; one woman couldn't make it feel less sterile.

Nighteye and Izuku soon made it to Lord Yagi's office; Nighteye eased open the cracked door, revealing Izuku's stepfather drinking a cup of tea.

As always, Toshinori's expression brightened as he saw Izuku.

"There you are, my boy!" he said. "Come in, if you don't mind. Thank you for fetching him, Mirai."

Nighteye said nothing; he simply bowed as he entered, taking up his customary post in the corner of the room, one part butler, one part advisor, and one part bodyguard. Izuku, meanwhile, took up his usual seat in front of the magnificent oak desk at the center of the office.

As soon as Izuku was seated, Toshinori set down his cup, making Izuku shift nervously.

"Forgive me for keeping you from your bed, my boy; I'm sure you must be tired," he said. "But I wished to discuss something with you. You see, I heard what you did at the gala tonight. It's already become the talk of the aristocracy."

Izuku's blood went cold. That could only mean one thing. He briefly considered begging for mercy, then discarded the thought. He knew it would be pointless.

Toshinori glanced over at Nighteye, then back at Izuku. "I must admit, Izuku," he said mildly. "Challenging a fellow Lord to a duel is a rather… bold act, so soon after returning from America."

Izumi hung his head, awaiting the inevitable reproach. He'd done it now. All the trust Toshinori had placed in him, all the opportunities he'd given him…Izuku had ruined it.

But Toshinori said nothing. And when Izuku raised his head, ever so slightly, he found Toshinori still watching him with that unreadable expression, the one that was not the angry, disappointed one he'd expected.

"Are you…mad at me?" Izuku finally asked, fully aware that he sounded like a child.

Toshinori raised an eyebrow-but his eyes did not change, those deep, shimmering pits that obscured more than Izuku could ever know. "Hardly," he snorted. "You see, my boy…when I was informed of your challenge to Lord Neito, I was also informed of what he said to earn such a response."

A chill went down Izuku's spine-not at the words, but at the sight of Toshinori Yagi rising from his chair, all seven feet of him-skinny now, not the titan he'd been a decade ago, but still imposing-and at the realization that Toshinori approved. "Oh," he said meekly, suddenly feeling embarrassed at how readily he had believed the worst of his stepfather yet again.

Toshinori laid a hand on Izuku's shoulder. "I am not young anymore, my boy, but I will say this: if you hadn't challenged him, I would have," he said in a low, deadly voice. "Nobody insults my wife, your mother, while I still draw breath."

Izuku went very, very still. In that moment, he saw another side to Lord Toshinori Yagi-the side that Enji Todoroki had seen all those years ago on a ship on the East China Sea, the side that had smashed a war fleet and sent thousands of men to a watery grave with a wave of his hand. This was the man who stood at the top of the aristocratic world, the man who all the nobles feared and loved in equal measure. This was the man Izuku had to become.

"So…do I have permission to go all-out?" he asked, grinning despite himself.

His father's response was a grin, too; equally bloodthirsty, equally eager. "By all means, my boy!" he replied, chuckling. "I want you to make a statement. Remind Lord Neito exactly who you are."

Izuku couldn't help the broad smile he grew in response to that. Finally. No more prancing around fancy dinner parties, no more tiptoeing around for fear of being the uncultured bumpkin. Titan was coming out to play.

"As you wish, Father," he said eagerly. "He'll never know what hit him."