Syndicate

by InuKagomeLuver4Eva

The powerful Yakuza clan, Uraraka, has ruled Musutafu with an iron fist for hundreds of years. Now, when the first female heir is born, Ochaco Uraraka must take a stand as rightful ruler of the clan. A fateful encounter with a stranger who saved her life seemed nothing more than a one time event...until he shows up at her door looking for an in. Ochaco x Deku.

4. Encroachment

"Again," Ojiro barked at the sweaty, wearied Yakuza. "There's no excuse for sloppy forms! Sloppiness equals failure in the world of martial arts. You'd be dead in a real fight against an experienced fighter. Tighten your core and steady your stance. Set. Go!"

Yells of kiai filled the room as they began the drill once more, the sound of hits connecting and bodies slapping the floor satisfying to the instructor. To be honest they were doing much better than in the beginning. While all had fighting experience and enhanced reflexes, their forms needed a bit of work. Besides, it kept his mind occupied from the outside world. Despite being trapped in practically a hidden, forest surrounded castle to repay a family debt, Ojiro didn't mind it. He was housed, fed, given a good range of the place to move around. There were the orders he needed to abide by at a moment's notice though they often weren't more than escorting or, like now, training the members of the clan to better their self-defense. No one treated him badly.

Perhaps it was the way martial arts had trained him to stand tall, never back down. Mashirao Ojiro only began finding his courage once entering the world of fighting in middle school, the training carrying him through high school and into a career of guiding others. The current level of his black belt was eight with a goal of achieving ten. Beyond that was mastering other forms. Just to get to level eight took years of strenuous trainings, meditations, and even six months of isolation on a mountainside to hone the spiritual side. Martial arts was about finding harmony and peace within while respecting and accepting nature. Fighting was about self-defense, not showing off.

"They seem to be managing well. Any issues?"

Aizawa sidled up beside the blonde, watching the men with sharp eyes and crossed arms. They were already improving; those who'd been on the de-ranking list were currently throwing their all into disabling an opponent. Even if their rankings were dropped due to performance…all hands were needed. Within the next few weeks things would become hectic. Deployments to other bases, extensive training, calling some legendary fighters back from retirement. Hell was going to break loose, and every Uraraka Yakuza was needed to man the front lines.

"Aizawa sir, everything is going well. A few minor mistakes to correct though they seem to take criticism very well." Ojiro made to quickly bow at his superior though a raised hand stopped him. The ragged man didn't care for the formalities in the training room. Here, titles didn't matter. "The men are doing better than expected to be honest. Another week or so and I'll give them a proper grading system. For now I want to restructure their stances and correct any bad habits."

"Good. You're a valuable asset to the organization," Shota replied, a thankful smile his response. He held out a vanilla envelope to the fighter who glanced at it curiously. "Your contractual obligation to the Uraraka clan will expire at the end of the month. The debt you took out to save your family has been cleared and funds will be allocated for the next five years in support. As thanks for your hard work."

"I don't understand," Ojiro started, utterly puzzled as he took the envelope. "I was under the impression that I had to work off the entire debt within a year. What's changed all of a sudden? Not that I'm being ungrateful, it's the opposite; I'm just…curious as to what the sudden change was."

"That would be my decision." Ochaco answered while walking in. Gone were the formal Ashido Aesthetics, instead replaced by a gi held closed with a thick black belt. The room fell silent as all members bowed deeply at her presence. "Take a break for now, I need the room for an hour."

"Yes, Miss Uraraka!" Chorused the men who quickly scurried from the room after cleaning the mats with the fury of a surging tidal wave.

"Miss Uraraka," Ojiro forewent the dismissive hand and bowed deeply. "I'm eternally grateful for your generosity! I can never repay you for your kindness, though I offer my body and soul to the Uraraka clan for the span of my life."

"You got that down, Aizawa?" Ochaco asked easily while scooping chestnut locks up into a bun, two tendrils of hair swinging back down to graze both cheeks.

"Recorded and documented."

"Don't look so worried Ojiro, it's just for legalities. Besides, you already signed off when going over the original contract. When the clan calls upon you, you are to answer within forty-eight hours unless you are physically incapacitated. Or dead. Dead bodies don't do me any good." Ochaco snapped the hair tie against the tightly twisted bun and began stretching.

"I guess I didn't read the contract thoroughly enough…" Ojiro chuckled awkwardly then sighed in defeat, head hung. Just when he thought he'd be free. Guess he should've known better. "May I ask…how often does that happen?"

"As needed. The likelihood of calling you back would be moderate for the time being. We'll go over that later once this spar is done. You win, I'll tell you whatever you want to know within reason." That peaked his interest.

"And if you win?"

"You'll serve as the official Uraraka clan martial arts master, contractually, until otherwise determined. I understand you're two belts away from reaching top level."

"That I am."

Ochaco grinned confidently while shifting to the center of the room, stretching as she went. "Let's put those skills to the test then. No holding back. In this room status and formalities don't exist. Fight me with everything you've got."

"Are you sure? I really don't want to hurt you, Miss Uraraka." Ojiro replied uneasily. Setting the envelope atop a stack of unused mats, the martial artist began limbering up as well. The heiress laughed out loud with arms above her head.

"The chance of you hurting me is slim to none, Ojiro. And just call me Ochaco. No formalities, right?"

"Of course…Ochaco."

The two centered, bowed, and instantly slid into position. Ochaco opted for a ready stance as Ojiro slid back to a front positioning. Motioning with four fingers the heiress offered the first strike. In the blink of an eye he struck. Incapacitating an opponent was key in a high-stakes battle so Ojiro made for an opposite shoulder grab with his left hand. For a moment she didn't move as his fingers grazed the top of the gi, then a hand latched against his wrist and back of the neck. The well-trained martial artist saved the faceplant at the last moment by throwing his weight sideways, in doing so it threw the brunette from the solid stance she maintained. Both tumbled across the floor before darting back up with confident grins.

"Impressive instinct. No one's been able to break that stance easily before," Ochaco complimented while they circled, eyes locked onto the target. Adrenaline was flourishing through pumping veins and raising the tingling excitement. His fighting style was new, unpredictable yet strong. Unlike the master's she'd trained with; Ojiro was a marvel.

"With how your stance was it became clear that the only way was down. You may add a little swing to throw the target off balance, though that only works on people who aren't prepared. And judging by your belt coloring and gold stripes you've had some experience. Ninth Dan. Not bad." Ojiro replied with hands up in practiced form. Ochaco gave a grin.

"I may only be at nine, but no master has yet to defeat me in the ring. I've been training since I was born, Ojiro. Think your natural talent can beat an unbeatable?"

"I say less talking, more sparring."

Shota watched the two go at it for nearly forty-five minutes, the strikes relentless and full force. Ochaco boasting about never being defeated wasn't a lie; no one had been able to take her down in the ring. Despite calling upon the highest-ranking master's from all over Japan, no one could outmatch her speed and tactical skill. Though he'd have to say this was a very close match. Ojiro naturally harnessed more strength and had honed his skillset to a fine point as Ochaco cycled through teacher's in search of someone who could take her down. While he didn't doubt the heiress and her skillset, this might be the day she loses to an outsider.

"Are you two tired yet?" The Yakuza called out after hanging up from another phone call. He had both the police department and the clan up his ass about one thing or another. Plus it was past his smoke break.

"Tired? I could keep going for hours!" Ochaco wheezed back while sloppily dodging an arm bash.

"This is nothing compared to training in the mountains!" Ojiro retorted from his slightly hunched position, the man clearly trying to catch his breath.

"I'm calling it a draw before you both kill yourselves. These are new mats; I don't want blood or dead bodies on them." Shota retorted with a hand raised, signaling the end of the match. Both parties groaned out of frustration. "I'll give you a few minutes to cool down then it's back to work, Ochaco. Ojiro, I need you to run an errand in an hour as well."

"I think I've worked enough today to earn some time off, Aizawa." Ochaco complained after properly bowing to Ojiro, regrettably accepting the match as a tie. He returned the gesture though placed his hands against both knees to catch his breath afterwards.

"Quit bitching."

"Again with the attitude."

"Never going away," Shota snorted and threw a damp towel at them both before heading for the double doors. "I need to handle some business; you have until I return. Water and snacks over here."

"Thank you, sir!" Ojiro called out just before the doors silently shut. "Well, I guess since the match was called a tie, neither of us get the prize."

"My offer still stands," The heiress replied with cracking open a bottle of water and chugging nearly a third before taking a breath. Ojiro gave a glance though said nothing as he placed the towel against his nape and ripped open a protein bar. "You would do great here, Ojiro. Plenty of space, unlimited access, free supply of mats and training tools, countless students. Not to mention the pay would be great."

"I'm truly grateful for the offer, Mis—Ochaco, but I'm afraid my family would get too worried about my whereabouts. I'm sure they're frantic right now," The blonde frowned against the bar as he took a bite. Poor Hagakure…she had zero idea where he'd gone, though his family had somewhat of an inkling. "Especially my girlfriend. I never got to tell her I needed to go away for a while."

"You mean Hagakure Toru," The way his head whipped around so fast nearly had her concerned for a neck injury. Wide, saucer eyes stared hard for a minute before blinking and returning to a manageable size. "She's surviving with the support of her friend, Mina Ashido. There's nothing to worry about, we make sure all personal connections are monitored and maintained."

"Wait, Mina? I knew about Kirishima being back in town due to the, uh, failed outing, but I didn't realize she was back too. They left right after high school; Kirishima to attend police academy and Mina to pursue a fashion career. I wonder why they're back after so many years…"

"They plan to get married at the beginning of the year, hence why they moved back home. To be closer to family." Ochaco supplied easily. While it may draw suspicions as to why she knew that much, he wouldn't question it. The conflicting emotions on his face nearly told a story in itself. Alarmed, worried, wary, relieved, happy.

"That's great! We always knew they'd stick together since back then. I'd like to send them a congratulatory gift if I can't make their wedding. I'll bet the rest of the class will come back and attend. Man, that'd be a crazy reunion to have everyone together again."

"I want you to read what's in the envelope," Ochaco spoke abruptly.

"The envelope?" Ojiro parroted before remembering the tossed side documentation. He shifted to a stand in order to fetch it. "Aizawa mentioned my contract ending in a few weeks and that the Uraraka clan would support my family for the next five years."

"That part is true; as thanks for your hard work and dedication to the Uraraka clan, I instructed Aizawa to redraw a new contract that goes over the updated stipulations. What I stated earlier was also true. When the Yakuza call upon you for assistance, you are required to respond in a timely manner." Ochaco shifted to a sit on the mats, legs extended out tiredly. She hadn't had that much of a fight since taking on Aizawa; that was something she'd never do again. Got her ass whooped so fast that not even cameras could catch it. "But I'm not cold-hearted. I won't force you away from family just for the fun of it. If you have events to attend, you will be given temporary release for the duration needed prior to returning to your assigned duties. You'll be able to attend Kirishima and Mina's wedding at the start of the year."

"This…" The martial artist trailed off after skimming through the paragraph of changes. If he was reading this correctly, and he prayed he was, then Ochaco was allowing him to leave at whim…any time. If he wanted to go home right now he could. He could meet up with Toru. Wide eyes turned to the Uraraka heiress, tears beginning to brim. "Can I really…is this legitimate? I can go see my family and Toru? Today? Right now even?"

"Yes," The heiress reassured gently.

"A-are you sure? What if it gets discovered that I'm working under the Uraraka clan? What if Aizawa sees me in public?"

"That is still highly confidential. You can tell your friends and family whatever you wish except your affiliation to the Uraraka clan. In the event of a leak it'll be handled on this end. Do your best to remain secretive until your contract is up at the end of October. And don't worry about Aizawa; he's mostly harmless."

"I…I don't know how to thank you, Ochaco," Ojiro swiped at the tears slipping down tinted cheeks. He could go home! A hand rested against his arm gently, so he looked to see the brunette smiling tenderly. He assumed all Yakuza were heartless bastards in it for violence, money, and glory. But Ochaco…

"Your company is more than enough, Ojiro. I have to get back to work now but I'll have a driver escort you to your destination. Don't worry about your errand, it was nothing too important. Enjoy your time out. And thanks for sparring with me, it means a lot."

"Thank you! I will!" Ojiro beamed. "Call me anytime you want to spar, Ochaco."

The heiress was left alone as the blonde departed to see his loved ones again, life renewing in his dark eyes.

Ochaco felt the smile slip a few notches as she watched his back disappear through the training room doors. What little freedom she had became unreachable once more. Make no mistake, there was no regretting the freedom she had and often yearned for; with the Shigaraki security breach life became more complicated. Their threats were increasing slowly over the weeks and now they'd managed to slip into city limits despite countless security measures. Her life was more at risk if she were to remain in public. Besides, with only a handful of weeks left before ascension, the heiress needed to remain focused on the work ahead.

It wasn't just learning how to rule the centuries old Yakuza clan; business management and purchasing, fund allocations, loan distribution and collection, maintaining housing, food, and training for the members, retaining clan territory throughout Musutafu and other districts, communication networks. There were advisors for each category of what molded her powerful clan, it wasn't possible for one person to manage it all, but she had to retain enough knowledge in order to approve their suggestions or make changes. She needed to be strong and unbreakable like her father. Her father who guided the clan through decades of turbulence and economical sways, the one who remained firm yet understanding to the plight of Musutafu citizens and Yakuza.

Ochaco Uraraka needed to exceed the expectations forced upon both shoulders.

---

Toru stared into the cup of rapidly cooling tea as she sat outside the coffee shop Midoriya always praised. Fall was beginning to swing into gear as leaves changed shades and dropped temperatures had citizens bundling up more. Normally it'd be a joyous season for the blonde though the weeks trudged on without a familiar face. He'd been gone over a month now. No text, no letter, nothing to explain where he was going. One minute Ojiro was at his normal mountain training session then the next he'd disappeared from the face of the earth. Despite the U.A. police saying there was nothing more to be done, there had to be something they could do. No one just disappeared like that without reason.

"It's getting so packed in there! Apparently everyone wants in on the seasonal flavors," Mina grumbled lightly as she arrived at the reserved table with hot drink in hand. "They said our scones will be ready in a few minutes. Kirishima mentioned swinging by with Midoriya on their lunch break. You good, girl?"

"Do you…do you think Ojiro is okay?" Toru asked sullenly as both hands tightened against the cool ceramic cup. "It's been over a month Mina, and nothing. No word on if he's even alive—"

"Don't think like that. We know how strong Ojiro is, Toru. He can withstand anything, even if he's been recruited into a Yakuza gang. Just have faith that he returns safely when the time is right." Mina gently redirected, placing her hands over Toru's. They felt cold to the touch. "I know you're worried; we're all worried. Kirishima and Midoriya have been trying to dig further into his case, there's just not a lot of leads right now. They're doing their best."

"I know…I just…I can't help thinking something will go wrong and he doesn't return to me. I also feel guilty that the entire class is coming back to help search for him. They've got their own lives to worry about."

"Sweetie," Mina started softly as the blonde let the silent tears hit the tabletop. "We'll find him. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow; he will come back to you. I promise."

"I hope you're right, Mina,"

"I always am. Oh, there's Kirishima and Midoriya. Hey! Over here!" Mina spotted the two officers on patrol and flagged them over, eagerly waving to get their attention. "Let's do our best to enjoy our time out today and we'll have a heart-to-heart tonight, okay?"

Toru nodded, quickly swiping at the tears before the other two arrived. She didn't need their pitying, sympathetic looks. They were trying their best, that she knew, it just never felt like enough was being done. Both detectives worked hard at their jobs in order to protect the city. A plastered-on smile as they approached, grins on their faces. Conceal don't feel. Things would work out in the end, right? All she needed was faith and support from her friends and Ojiro would return to her.

He had to…right?

"How's my fav officer doing?" Mina chirped happily as Kirishima settled on the chair beside, placing a chaste kiss against her cheek. "And I guess you too, Midoriya. Though you're not my favorite man in uniform."

"Uh…fine, I guess?" Izuku replied with an awkward chuckle. Mina tended to be rather open when it came to speaking her mind. "It's been a rough week of cases and we're finally catching up on the overload. Being out of the office for a few weeks really cluttered up my desk."

"I couldn't believe how many stacks of files you were buried in! You could've made a house out of them! Seriously though, I'm glad we're getting a break because I'm worn out. Escorting that diplomats daughter around was a piece of cake compared to hardcore cases about murders and Yakuza turf wars."

"Really, Eijiro? While we're about to eat?" Mina cocked an eye at her man who sheepishly apologized. "How is she anyways? I haven't heard anything in the news about her father finishing his political tour. Maybe Ochaco's gone home already, wherever that is."

"Sergeant Aizawa has assured Miss Ochaco is safe and sound after…" Izuku trailed off, looking away from the understanding gazes. No need to bring up the incident; it affected them but him most of all. Countless nights of worrying, lack of sleep, even attempting to visit her in the hospital. He needed to apologize to her in person for his mistake. If only he could find her… "Anyways. What've you two been up to lately? I know it's been hard to find time to get together with our schedules."

"I've been designing more clothes like usual, preparing for more store unveilings, the works. Always busy with Ashido Aesthetics!" Mina said with a nonchalant hand wave. The hand then reached up to slowly touch the partially concealed necklace given to her by Ochaco, an ache of sadness tinging in her chest. "Ochaco was the one who helped launch my line off the ground. Now I have consistent clients clambering for my designs…yet it doesn't feel as exciting as when she was here. They see the clothes as new and trendy, but that's it. That's why they buy them. It doesn't feel like they truly appreciate the clothes for what they are and not what my brand stands for. Maybe I'm just rambling on at this point—"

"I get it," Izuku interjected the pinkette. "Miss Ochaco…I think it was her reserved background that made it seem like material possessions didn't matter. She could see through the appearances and appreciated what was beneath the surface. I believe that's why she wanted to continue seeing you and Hagakure; she yearned to experience what freedom was and you two were the perfect examples. She was learning how normal life could be."

"That makes sense…there was so much she didn't know about and constantly asked either of us to explain further. I feel so bad for her; how could anyone live life always having to look over their shoulder and fear an unpredictable attack?" Toru tossed her thoughts into the stirring pot as well. Ochaco truly seemed excited when she and Mina talked about how their school years went and how their other friends were. It was like she'd never had any of that. The necklace beneath her shirt felt just a bit heavier at the thought.

"Her life isn't something we'll ever understand. It's like they're too different of fabrics to mesh together in hopes of coinciding perfectly. Some things just can't be."

"Midoriya, are you sure Sergeant Aizawa won't give up her status? I think we're all in agreement we need to see Miss Ochaco again to convey our thoughts and feelings." Kirishima asked his partner after taking a sip from Mina's offered drink. He grimaced a bit at the sweetness though remained appreciative of the hot coffee. Midoriya shook his head slowly. "Damn. What about Captain Yagi? Have you tried him? I'd give it a go though I don't have nearly as much hold in this district as you do."

"Captain Yagi has been getting sucked into meetings all day, every day. There's only been a few instances where I've seen him leave his office or the conference room. I think he's been trying to work with another major police station on a project. Even Sergeant Aizawa has been disappearing more often. Between them being unavailable and my mountain of paperwork, there hasn't been time to inquire about it. Sorry."

"Man, it's not fair! Ochaco is the sweetest person alive, and we can't even see her! I should've gotten her number when I had the chance." Mina plopped her head into cupped hands supported by the table.

"If her father continues to tour around Japan then I'm sure we'll catch a glimpse. Let's not give up hope yet!" Toru encouraged with a pumped fist. Smiles around the table encouraged the blonde even more. If she could hope to see her newfound friend again, then she'd continue to hold out for Ojiro.

"I'm going inside to order a coffee, need one?" Izuku directed the question at his partner while standing. He'd barely had time to have one cup this morning, let alone another after hours of grinding. Lethargy was about to become his main personality trait if he didn't get more caffeine.

"Yes! Black like always. Thanks, Midoriya! I'll cover lunch tomorrow!" Kirishima gave a thumbs-up as he threw an arm around his fiancé. Izuku waved off the offer before heading inside.

It was warm with countless cups of espresso brewing and packed bodies trying to escape from the chilly weather. While Japan had yet to swing fully into the fall season, the end of summer was obvious with colder temperatures and chilly winds. He didn't mind it, honestly. Seasonal changes were like flipping a page into the next chapter of life. A chance to renew oneself and reflect on how to better prepare for the upcoming new year. Soon temples would be holding festivals for Christmas and New Year, something the detective always looked forward to. He and his mother always went to the small shrine nestled atop a hillside that looked over Musutafu. Not many people knew of its location, so it was often barely busy.

Izuku couldn't help but let his mind wander back to Ochaco as he stepped forward in the busy line. The incident had scared him pretty good; the sheer amount of panic on her face struck a deep cord within. Whatever happened on that phone call deeply affected the brunette to the point of straight up fleeing his apartment. Was it something terrible like a family death? A threat from an enemy of her father? He'd never know. Despite countless pleas, his boss refused to give an update other than she was fine and returned home to recover fully. Even when trying to dig further into her family name and history through public records, there wasn't anything indicating phone numbers, an address, or even an active office for her father.

Why should he question what his boss told him?

It was like Ochaco Haniko didn't even exist. Yet she did. Her appearance, voice, mannerisms…they all existed. The softness of fingertips grazing against the back of his wrist as she helped put on the expensive watch was real. Emerald eyes narrowed the slightest bit. Things weren't making much sense the more he thought about it. Maybe…maybe Ochaco existed…but not Ochaco Haniko. And if Ochaco Haniko never existed…then who did?

"Izuku?" A feminine voice drew the detective from his spiraling ramble, and he looked up to see a familiar head of blonde locks beside. "No way! How are you doing?"

"Melissa! It's been a while! What are you doing back in Japan?" Izuku accepted the tight hug from his overseas friend. Despite months apart, Melissa Shield still looked exactly the same. Her signature red glasses and blonde hair were hard to miss amongst the sea of Japanese. "I didn't realize you'd be coming back after a few months."

"Yeah! My dad is actually working on a massive project in America right now, so I have plenty of free time since he's tied up. Plus, I wanted to see Uncle Toshi and experience fall in Japan. It's so pretty here already! What're you up to? Are you working right now?" Melissa chattered excitedly as she moved with Izuku and the line.

"I'm just on a lunch break with my partner. I've got some friends out there as well; I'm grabbing drinks real fast. Does Captain Yagi know you're back in town? He'll be excited to see you back."

"Oh, sorry! I didn't realize you were hanging out with other people right now. I never told Uncle Toshi that I'd be returning, I figured it was easier just to surprise him. Well, since you're here with other people why don't we just catch up later?"

"Don't worry about it! I'm sure they'd love to meet you. My partner is actually an old classmate of mine who moved back home recently, and he's getting married at the beginning of the year as well. His fiancé is a designer who recently launched her clothing line in town. Her best friend is here too." Izuku insisted after sensing the hesitation. "Seriously. They won't have a problem with you being here."

"If you're sure…do you need any help carrying drinks?" Melissa inquired as he reached the register to order, a paper cup of her own concoction residing in a palm. Izuku merely shook his head with a smile. Always considerate of others.

After ordering and receiving the necessary sustenance to continue surviving for the day, Izuku and Melissa wandered outside to rejoin the group who instantly gave curious looks. Mina especially, the pinkette going as far as to wiggle her eyebrows suggestively while asking if they had any special plans. Much to her disappointment, Melissa mentioned she was only here for a short while to see her uncle for a few weeks. Kirishima remained cordial and professional much to Izuku's relief. He was already going to be hounded by the two women for not informing them of her unexpected arrival. Pretty sure Mina still thought they would make a cute couple.

Their lunch break came to an end sooner than expected so the two officers bid their farewells and strolled back towards the station. Kirishima explained how the wedding planning was going and how he'd even reached out to Bakugo Katsuki to stand in as best man. While he was still awaiting a response, the redhead abruptly stopped and turned to his friend expectantly.

"You'll be in my wedding party, right?"

Taken aback by the sudden question, Izuku blinked a few times before responding. "If…you'd like me to be. Sure. I've never been in one before…"

"Hell yeah! I've got Bakugo, you, Kaminari…Ojir-oh shit…"

"Don't think he'll be found by then?" Izuku asked quizzically as his friend stopped short, staring ahead like he'd seen a ghost. "What's wrong?"

"That's…I'm not hallucinating, right? Isn't that him? Standing in front of the police station?" Kirishima lowered his voice while pointing with a shaking finger. Izuku snapped his gaze to the entrance of the police station, eyes widening. There, standing in front of the station, stood Mashirao Ojiro with a focused gaze on the front doors.

"You're right…that—that's Ojiro. How did he—" Izuku stuttered out as he tried to comprehend what was happening. Zero warning for weeks and now he appeared out of nowhere? "What the hell…w-wait a minute, Kirishima!"

Ojiro stared at the police station doors intensely, morally debating what he should do. While technically still bound to the Uraraka clan for the remainder of October, and on-call the rest of his life, a part of him wanted to do the right thing and announce his safe return. But then they would interrogate him, force him into giving up the location of the Uraraka main house. The thought of Aizawa coming after him sent a heavy shiver down his spine. No way in hell did he want that Yakuza chasing him down in the middle of the night to finish the job.

Yet…he'd seen the missing persons poster a few blocks down, where he asked the personal driver to drop him off. Personalized by Hagakure; he'd recognize that handwriting anywhere. The thought of how frantic and scared she was…

"I can't do this. I can't betray Ochaco like that…she hasn't done me any harm. Maybe I should just wait until my contract ends…Toru can wait a few more weeks, can't she?" Ojiro quietly argued with himself as passerby gave him weird looks. In his preoccupied state of mind, the martial artist failed to see the incoming fiery missile headed straight for him. Despite sensing someone approaching at the last second…it was too late. Kirishima slammed into him heavily and both men hit the ground hard enough to kick up a cloud of dirt.

"Ojiro! Where the fuck have you been?! Are you okay? Were you kidnapped? Blackmailed? Does Toru know? Did you know we were working today?" Kirishima rushed out as he pulled his friend into a tight hug, manly tears streaming down his face. Ojiro could only helplessly pat his friend on the back as his body was constricted by the hulking officer. "Shit, man! You've given us all a scare! Don't you know we've been looking into your disappearance for weeks?!"

"Good to see you too, Kirishima. I'm sorry for not reaching out sooner…things have been complicated, to say the least. Hi Midoriya."

"What happened, Ojiro? Where have you been these past few weeks? I'm glad to see you're at least alive and mostly unharmed," Izuku let out a shaky sigh as he offered a hand up to both Kirishima and his missing friend. The relief nearly had him collapsing onto the sidewalk. So many sleepless nights of tackling any small lead he could dig up. "Do you need anything? Water? Food? Should I call Hagakure—"

"Don't!" The blonde blurted out as Midoriya began pulling his phone from its holster. Both officers switched to business mode at the sharp tone. Izuku slowly put the phone back into its holster, moving both hands away from his body. "S-sorry, it's just…I don't know if I want to alert her yet. This whole thing is…"

"Let's go inside. We can occupy one of the conference rooms and sort this whole situation out, okay? We're not going to push you past your comfort zone, Ojiro. We're just concerned about what happened." Kirishima reassured lightly at his friend's panicked expression. Not wanting Hagakure to know meant whatever happened to him these past few weeks could potentially drag others into a deep web. Already Eijiro was thinking what his partner was.

Uraraka.

The station was busier than usual as tourists came in search of lost personal items during the country's busy season. A handful of regulars were visiting as well; Mrs. Yamamoto delivering weekly baked goods, Mr. Hanabishi chatting it up with some not-yet-retired workforce buddies, and even a local newspaper doing a report on the increased Yakuza and civilian skirmishes filling the city. Sergeant Aizawa repeatedly informed the reporter she needed to come back another day when there was time allotted specifically for interviews, though she persisted and drew more attention with a raised voice.

"The citizens of Musutafu and surrounding areas need to know! Is the Uraraka clan still planning to hand over the reins in January, are there rival gangs moving in due to this transition, and the biggest question of all; who is Shigaraki?" Chitose Kizuki demanded with the microphone a mere inch from Aizawa's mouth. The officer's lip twitched in annoyance at the persistent questions. "We have a right to know as—"

"As citizens, yeah, yeah. You say that every time you barge in here demanding answers. And you get told the same thing every. Single. Time. Come back during allotted journalist hours." Shota finally snapped and shoved the microphone out of his face rather roughly. "Escort them out of here and put a no trespassing order under their names, the news station, and any affiliates. You've pushed me one too many times, Miss Kizuki. Now you're banned until otherwise noted."

"Banned?! You can't ban me from the property! It's public access!" Chitose shot back as multiple officers swooped in to corral the unruly reporter and cameraman. "This isn't over, Sergeant Aizawa! I will get the answers my viewers need to know!"

"Or just wait for the official release like all the higher-rated stations do instead of gravelling for the first speck of gold hiding in the dirt." Aizawa snorted in response, shaking his head tiredly as the indignant squawking died down. His hands reached for the crumpled cigarette box in his chest pocket and nearly empty lighter until tired eyes caught sight of the unexpected visitor standing between Midoriya and Kirishima. Ojiro. Judging by the color quickly leaving his face, the martial artist wasn't expecting to see him outside of the mansion. Oh, that's right. He never knew he was an officer in the local police force. "What, Midoriya? I need a smoke break more than anything right now."

"I'm sorry, Sergeant Aizawa…it's just that we've found our missing friend. Well, more like he showed up in front of the police station and we happened to run into him." His detective quickly explained. Given freedom and already he runs to the police station? Perhaps he was wrong about the kid…though there didn't seem to be any issues earlier when sparring with Ochaco. That was another interrogation for today's list.

"Give me fifteen minutes to smoke. Put him in conference room three and continue with your paperwork. More was dropped off at both of your desks."

"Yes, sir." Midoriya and Kirishima quickly ushered their friend to a quiet place as their superior shifted towards the roof access.

Ojiro wouldn't rat. He was smart enough to know the consequences of releasing private Uraraka information, especially to an officer looking for an in. Besides, he'd drilled it into his head from day one that the bay sharks had the taste for human flesh if any danger were to fall upon the Uraraka name due to negligence. Though they were just fed a hefty meal the night prior, there were always more sharp mouths to feed. The chilled autumn air tousled messy onyx locks around as Shota leaned against the building. A few clicks of the lighter then a vigorous shaking. He forgot to get another one after his chore last night.

Reaching into his pocket for a back-up pack of matches, Aizawa placed the nicotine stick between curled lips. With all the bullshit going on lately he'd been tearing through cigarettes like crazy. Not to say it wasn't his only form of stress relief, it was just the most habitual. And his worst. Debating for a few seconds after retrieving the strike box, the detective let out a rough sigh. The matches returned to the pocket and the cigarette snapped in half before being disposed of in a nearby receptacle. He needed to be in top shape for the approaching war. Smoking like a freight train did nothing but slow him down physically.

Even Hizashi was beefing up internal securities around the main base. Dozens of new cameras, trip sensors, ramped up signal strength, new biometric, double authentication locks. Even the higher up members had been equipped with GPS trackers and two-way private intercoms. If there was ever a time for a traitor, it would be before the coronation and who better than a long-standing member. All swore loyalty to the Uraraka clan though Aizawa couldn't trust anyone.

Kenji and Fumi were still out of town dealing with the new business acquisition. Their expected return was a few weeks before Ochaco's ascension. He was in charge of ensuring she was ready and the constrained time prior to the ceremony was spent preparing. Ochaco needed fittings for the ascension kimono, custom made months in advance, had to have all paperwork switched to her name and authority, needed to make a public announcement that she would be inheriting the family title. That was just the main formalities. That didn't include addressing all those affiliated to the Uraraka name, urging them to remain strong in the face of a new leader. Shota expected heavy pushback on that end.

No powerful, man-led Yakuza clan wants to be dictated by a female leader. It broke tradition. Not to mention women were seen as less powerful within the rankings though nonetheless a necessary force. After three-hundred years the Uraraka clan would have its first female heir to take on the family name. Ishikawa Uraraka was the former leader of the clan, Kenji's father. Though he left many decades ago, the old man resided up North and maintained a smaller section of the gang. Mostly he probed into leads about new business aspects with his youngest adopted son, Kaga. Very few knew of Kaga Uraraka, now deceased, and for good reason.

The man had attempted to take a woman hostage and force intimacy in an alleyway. While crimes were allowed underneath his adoptive father's authority, taking advantage of women in such a grotesque manner made the clan look bad and was heavily shunned. Therefore, one night as his son gambled away hard-earned clan money, he was jumped in the same alleyway as his attempted crime then taken to the bay for feeding time. While there wasn't much more information Shota could find on the matter, it was obvious he'd been taken care of. Considering Kaga wasn't full Uraraka blood, the loss was barely noticeable apart from the deep depression it brought upon Ishikawa.

The worry he had for Ochaco regarded lack of respect from other gangs. No one would take her seriously unless she proved to the world she was ready to say, 'I am here', which is why he was pushing so hard for her to begin working every day. The little bit of freedom was absolutely needed for her mental health, but now he worried she would spiral if this undercover plan went into action. Midoriya would wholeheartedly join in and Toshinori already planned on him being a main asset. That interaction between them wouldn't go well. But…maybe it was needed. Maybe Ochaco needed the realization that honoring tradition and family meant sacrificing things she cared about.

"Nice day, isn't it?"

The barrel of his pistol aimed so fast at the uninvited guest that the sun barely had time to reflect from the blackened metal. A low chuckle and the person placed both hands up in the air. Shota hadn't heard them arrive, meaning they took unconventional methods to reach the rooftop where he currently resided. Even that was a difficult trek seeing as high walls with no place to grip provided little help.

"Tell me who the hell you are and how you managed to slip past high-end security measures. You've got a lot of balls waiting for me to come out here." Shota threatened with dangerous eyes. He'd never seen this person before. Ragged appearance, stark white hair that was scraggly and unkempt, gaunt expression like that of corpse, face that resembled acid-charred flesh. Yet it was his eyes that were the most unsettling; they absolutely radiated with bottomless insanity. Tinted blood red with nearly pinpoint pupils even in the shade of the AC unit resting above.

"Now, now, there's plenty of time for that later. I just wanted to formally introduce myself before…well, that's not really my business to say, is it? My master will be the one to announce the special occasion." The man let out a gravelly bark, fingers itching at his left cheek. The yellow and jagged nails left slightly raised trails over the damaged flesh. "You can call me Tomura. Tomura Shigaraki."

"You've made this an easy decision then. Guess your body will be the message your dear master is waiting for." Shota snarled as his finger slammed down against the guns trigger. Fucking around with a member of Shigaraki could end in disaster and he needed to be eliminated now. Information be damned; this bastard was going to be delivered back to his leader on a slab of cold metal! "You picked the wrong person to fuck with today, Tomura Shigaraki!"

"Oooh, such a violent one! Shota Aizawa," Tomura cackled while deftly dodging the bullets that expertly fired in his direction. He was good. Just not good enough to land a proper hit. "My master was right; you are highly skilled at what you do. Is that why you're Kenji Uraraka's favorite little thug?"

Shota ignored the personal hit as he ran out of ammo, tossing the gun aside and practically ripping the large, serrated blade from its leg holster. One hand reached for the hidden scarf coiled around his shoulders as the other twirled the knife and readied. If he'd managed to find him and the police station then it was only a matter of time before they traced back to the mansion. Tomura pranced around the roof without a care, glancing over the sides of the building as if it were viewing platform. Bastard wasn't even being serious.

"You know," Tomura drawled as he finally diverted his attention back to the threat now inching closer. The look he was receiving made his skin crawl. He'd been warned of the man's skill beforehand though seeing them in real life was much more exciting. "This was nothing more than a friendly visit. I'm starting to think you don't like me very much."

"Whatever chewed on your face must've left most of a brain cell for you to figure that out," Shota retorted, tightening the grasp against his tactical scarf. He needed to get a better vantage point then strike. Throwing him from the roof was an option. Surely the rest of the police station heard the gunshots by now and were preparing to burst through the door. Meaning Yakuza also heard the shots and were rushing to position. "Friendly visit or not, you're a threat that needs to be handled. I'll even be considerate and offer you one chance to surrender. Deny that request and it'll be an instant death as you're thrown off the highest corner of this roof."

"Man, I'm starting to regret not bringing backup. Oh. Wait. I did bring backup." A sharp snapping of his fingers filled the air. "Silly me! My one braincell must've forgotten that important part."

Shota could sense them all around; at least three, no, five others. Strategically placed out of sight until the right moment to strike. He couldn't risk taking both eyes from the white-haired menace cackling to himself. Outmatched, he thought darkly. Not the first time nor the last. A low buzzing over by the door caught his attention. Hizashi was actively monitoring the situation, no doubt relaying information down below. Just needed time to—

A blade grazed his cheek as it made for the camera, shattering the lens immediately and frying the unit. Shota had no choice but to look towards the attacking source. Wispy blonde hair wrapped up in odango buns, gleaming golden eyes…and a wide smile filled with unnaturally elongated canines glistening with blood. His blood. The blade used to destroy the camera had retracted via wire cable and the freak had the nerve to lick his blood from the blade. What the hell kind of people did Shigaraki employ?

But it wasn't just the blonde girl pretending to cosplay in school-girl apparel that caught his eye. A man decked out in a long, tan trench coat, black and white face mask stood by her side holding what appeared to be marbles of sorts between each knuckle. On the right of Tomura was a purple-haired, masked man dressed in a white tank-top, thick red scarf, grey khakis and sport knee guards with shin supports. Bandages wrapped most of the way up to his shoulder with wrist guards. Belts wrapped around his abdomen to support a sword holder against his back. One of the blades resided casually in a flexing palm. The third crouching atop one of the ventilation shafts was dressed in a full black and white bodysuit with red wristlets. There were only eye holes on the suit that didn't even reveal what was beneath. The fourth and final member joining Tomura looked like he'd just strolled out of a crematory. Heavily burned skin around his eyes, mouth, neck, and arms had been reattached by heavy surgical staples. Tattered black and silver cloak fluttered behind as he stared with piercing blue eyes, sizing up the target. Messy black locks partially concealed the stinging stare, though not enough to force the Yakuza to back down. Black pants and a white t-shirt made up the fairly simple outfit.

"Fucked up party you've got here, Tomura. Freak who loves blood, a living piece of half-decayed charcoal, fetish-boy in a bodysuit, grown ass man in a trench coat playing with marbles, and I'm going to assume a wannabe teenage mutant ninja turtle. Or a fanboy. In case you weren't aware, Halloween isn't until the end of the month."

"Teenage mutant ninja turtle?!" The man dressed up as a street fighter exclaimed, clearly offended. "Do I look like a lizard?!"

"Fetish-boy?! More like fetish-man! Get it right! Nah, he's right. This suit seems like a fetish to be honest." Fetish-man argued back and forth with himself, clearly suffering from a mental break causing split personalities.

"A freak? Maybe you should look in the mirror, creep!" The blonde cried out with a shaking of her fists. "How I dress is none of your business!"

"You tell him, Toga! Oops, we weren't supposed to say our names! Too late, now he knows. It'd be rude not to mention our names since we know his." The unhinged man shouted out, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth then crossing his legs and throwing his arms out wide.

"Twice, you're not helping the situation. Shut the hell up." Charcoal drawled tiredly. Both hands shoved a little deeper into his pockets and the motion wasn't missed by Aizawa.

"Hey, now you just said his name! Ah hell, there go our secret identities. What now, Tomura? Seems this little visit is getting out of control. I'm expecting backup in fifteen seconds." The trench coat man leaned over to the unimpressed leader of the disorganized gang. Tomura grunted in annoyance then stepped forward. Shota prepared to snatch his wrist up the moment it raised. If he could get at least one of them, preferably the leader, then things would shift to his favor. Being out of ammo wasn't ideal considering his back-up gun was sitting in his desk. Higher restrictions at work meant shit results in situations as such.

"I think our business here is done. Though…there is one last thing I wanted to mention, about a certain…heiress—"

Shota launched the scarf from the confines of his police uniform and managed to wrap it around Tomura Shigaraki, binding both raised hands together. A hefty pull right as the roof access door exploded open sent the intruder crashing against the concrete surface, tangled in a mess of constricting fabric. The remaining squad lunged forward to attack as the Yakuza swiftly slammed a knee down against Tomura's back, pinning him down with every ounce of weight. The tip of his blade sparked as it slammed beside the Shigaraki member's face. He leaned down close until sneering lips were a mere inch from his ear.

"Remember this as your saving grace; there won't be another, Tomura Shigaraki. If you ever show your face in these parts again, I'll make sure no one remembers who you were." Shota warned lowly prior to leaning back up. Tomura stared wide-eyed at his captor before letting out an insane laugh.

"So scary! Just like master warned!"

"Let me see your hands! Now!" Izuku ordered with gun raised at the closest unknown. As soon as gunshots were heard, the entire building went into lockdown. Getting staff and civilians was priority before searching for missing personnel. Kirishima was guarding Ojiro in the event of a gang related attack, his correlation still unknown. A quick glance revealed Aizawa pinning down one of the attackers, gun discarded off to the side and serrated knife in hand. "Drop your weapons and get down on your knees! Keep your hands above your head!"

"Oh, I know you!" Tomura cackled gleefully while straining to look up at the newcomer. Izuku gave him a bewildered look in between tracking the now motionless crew. "You're the one who found the note! Izuku…Midoriya…now that's a name to remember—"

"Shut the hell up!" Aizawa demanded with a digging of his knee against Tomura's spine, though the man merely cackled louder and squirmed excitedly.

"Dabi…" Shigaraki wheezed out.

"About damn time," Dabi, formerly labeled Charcoal, gave a crooked grin as both hands shifted from his pockets.

"Allow me to assist!" Trench coat announced. The marbles resting in his knuckles flew towards Aizawa as Dabi began aiming for them.

Aizawa heard the flickering of a lighter. It all connected as alarmed eyes swung from Tomura to Dabi then back to Midoriya standing in the doorway with more officers thundering up the stairs. He had a life-altering choice to make; release Tomura and throw himself at his detective or attempt to stop the inevitable fireball about to wipe them all out. Shigaraki won this round. Snapping the bindings from his captives wrist, Shota lunged for Midoriya. Two gunshots rang out followed by searing pain beneath his right eye and excruciating pain in the right elbow. A Shigaraki sniper? Three retaliating shots pierced the fall air; those he knew were Uraraka. Latching onto Midoriya's waist, the two tumbled into the doorway.

"Sergeant Aizawa!" Izuku cried out as blood flew into the air. He didn't see the direction the bullets came from, meaning he couldn't retaliate accurately. All that caught his gaze was piercing red and a maniacal grin as fire raged across the rooftop.

"Keep your heads down!"

The sound of an explosion filled the packed stairwell prior to the door being forced shut by emergency protocol, the action remotely activated by Hizashi. Both he and Midoriya slammed into the steps until a few officers caught the brunt of the forceful tumbling. There was shouting and calls for an ambulance as Aizawa gathered his bearings, ears ringing painfully. A straight attack against a higher-ranking Yakuza became a call for war; only blood would satiate the rage sure to rile his men. Heat rushed from beneath his eye. No doubt his elbow had shattered or in the very least fractured from the bullet.

"Shota, Midoriya, are you alright? What happened up there?!" Captain Yagi rushed to the aid of his friend. Worn blue eyes frantically darted around to assess the situation before landing on the blood pooling against the stairs. Heat was beginning to lick at the heavy metal door. "Has anyone called an ambulance yet? Get the fire department rolling! I want all available units to set up an eight-block perimeter!"

"Don't bother," Shota grunted while sitting up with the aid of Midoriya. "They'll be long gone before any units can clear the roof and start searching."

"…you know who did this." Toshinori stated lowly as chaos flurried around them. A tight nod confirmed his suspicions; gang related. "Shigaraki or Uraraka?"

"Tomura Shigaraki and his entourage of scum. Claimed he had a message pertaining to the heir of Uraraka. Never got to finish it before I subdued him. This is going to start an all-out war, Toshi. Whatever plan you're going to concoct I suggest you do it now."

"W-wait, they were part of the Shigaraki gang?" Izuku nearly whispered. They planted the note on that body…possibly even killed that man...marked him… "How did they even—"

"Not now." Aizawa demanded as paramedics made their way up the stairwell. Other parties didn't need to be overhearing confidential information. "When the time comes, you'll know. Go assist the others and ensure Ojiro gets home safely. Have him come back once everything clears up."

"Hey, hey, focus on yourself, Shota! I can handle things here, don't worry. We'll get you taken care of," Captain Yagi assured as two officers supported Aizawa to escort him to an open area while awaiting paramedics. "Once things settle down here I'll come visit you in the hospital. Anyone I can call for you?"

"Nah, I'm sure they've already been made aware of what's happened."

_B_

Ochaco flew up the stairs to the hospital with a few extra guards in tow. From the moment the news trickled back to the mansion, the heiress was showcasing full authority. All members were to converge closer to Musutafu and maintain strict patrol schedules. Member initiation froze. Every single Yakuza was to be armed at all times. Increased security at vantage points and nightly sweeps through the city. Not a speck of Musutafu should be left unturned.

This shouldn't have happened…

Aizawa was the strongest there was. For him to be ambushed and attacked at work was—

"Miss Haniko?!"

Ochaco jogged to a slow, chest heaving from the long distance she sprinted in heels, no less. Izuku Midoriya sat in the waiting room of the Surgical wing she'd just abruptly entered. Beside him was Kirishima, Ojiro, Captain Yagi and a few non-Yakuza officers. It made sense for there to not be any of her men as they were swarming the city in search of Shigaraki gang members. Ojiro glanced nervously at the heiress before diverting his gaze downward. His presence didn't matter right now. "I-Izuku? What are you doing here?"

"We—"

"Miss Haniko, I'm so sorry to meet again under such circumstances," Toshinori interrupted firmly, a hand raised at his employee as he stood. Izuku pressed his lips together. "I understand you may be concerned about Aizawa, but rest assured he's getting the best care in the city right now."

"I heard…the police station was attacked by an opposing gang. How bad is it?" She asked breathily. Her heart wouldn't slow down, the beats painful against ribs. No parents…Aizawa down for the count… two months to go…already the anxiety spiked higher with each step towards the operating room.

"Shattered elbow and a deep laceration beneath his right eye. He was still in fairly high spirits as the ambulance brought him in. I really hate to do this Miss Haniko, but since this is an active investigation…I'm going to ask you to leave. I'm truly sorry," Toshinori tried his best to break the news as gently as possible. The shifting of emotions on her face was lightning fast. From frantic to cold indifference in a second. "I can have Detective Midoriya or Detective Kirishima escort you back home—"

"They will do no such thing, Captain Yagi. In fact," Ochaco replied with stern authority and chin slightly tilted. Ojiro felt a shiver go up his spine and tensed, wary of what was about to happen next. He'd never seen her this worked up when it came to Aizawa. They were close; family, considering he practically raised her. Ochaco mentioned how her parents were out of town for the moment and her mentor was the only one there as a strong guide before the daunting coronation. Now the Chief of police was telling her to leave. "I believe it would be best if you—"

Ojiro shot to his feet faster than any of them could respond to the thickening tension. One hand latched onto her upper arm as the other redirected her body via upper back. The withering look he received was intimidating for sure, yet it was better than her enforcing authority over the wrong fight to pick. "I-I'm so sorry! Sergeant Aizawa just means a lot to Miss Ochaco, they're practically family! I'll take her out for fresh air, be back in a bit!"

Izuku watched them both leave with growing suspicion, virescent narrowing at the odd behavior.

"Do you realize what you're doing right now, Ojiro?" Ochaco hissed once they passed through the same doors she burst through minutes ago. Nearly every inch of her body was trembling with barely constrained emotion at the situation. "Get your hands off me—"

"Not until you comprehend what you were about to do back there. You're trying to enforce your authority over the wrong person to fight! Do any of them realize who you are? Truly?" Ojiro kept a firm grasp on her upper arm as they walked, making sure to keep his eyes forward and voice low. Already he could feel the countless stares zeroing in on his grasp though they made no attempt to intervene. Perhaps they knew. Or were waiting for the call to have him wiped from earth. "I understand you're upset about Aizawa; I truly do. But you need to be rational about this. He's alive. Injured, yes, but alive. It'll take more than a skirmish to take him down."

"That doesn't change the fact that I'm being denied visitation rights. No one can stop me from seeing him. I'm ordering you to release me so I can continue to do just that." Ochaco seethed through clenched teeth, the heiress digging her heels against the tile flooring until they both came to a screeching halt.

"I'm sorry, Ochaco…that's an order I'm going to have to deny for your own good." Ojiro stood firm, gaze never wavering from the brunette. "Do whatever you want to me, I don't care. I'm trying to protect you right now! Why can't you see that?"

"Because the only person I have left right now is lying on a surgical table! My parents won't be home for months, maybe not until the end of the year or beyond! I don't have anyone else!" Ochaco shouted into the closed Pediatrics wing of the hospital. Neither nurse nor Yakuza were seen, leaving the two truly isolated. The heiress yanked her arm free and took a few steps back, a clenched fist against a racing heart. "You don't understand how I grew up; what it was like to grow up with no one other than family! The only time I've had more than just a bit of freedom was when I was hanging out with Izuku and Kirishima, Mina and Hagakure! And even then it got cut short thanks to a security breach! I don't get that luxury! I can't just go where I please whenever, Ojiro, unlike you! I have an entire network of people to protect, to lead, to ensure my lineage continues into the future. My future is set in stone."

"My parents…" Ojiro started hesitantly as the heiress sniffled hard, swiping at the frustrated tears that slipped out. It took a few moments though she finally looked up at him behind an arm. "They put everything onto my shoulders since I'm the oldest. I was always in charge of watching my siblings during the day, even when I had school, extra-curricular activities, work. I became a parent because mine didn't have the time. When I finally got into middle school, I walked past the martial arts club one day and instantly became intrigued. That was my escape from being a parent at twelve. You know what they said to me in response? 'Make sure you keep helping your siblings, Ojiro.' That's what they said. Despite me having a completely packed schedule with little free time. I never had time to myself, Ochaco. Not until I moved out of home after high school."

"I understand where you're coming from, I honestly do. And while I can't fully comprehend how your family works or why you do what you do; I'm empathetic to your plight. I've been in similar shoes. But one day I had to say enough. What's stopping you from standing up for yourself?"

"Heritage. Tradition. A blood oath to always protect and carry on the Uraraka name. As the only female heir to the current leader, it's my duty to step up and take over once I hit twenty-one. Being that lineage is handed down to the firstborn male, the pressure is nearly tripled to prove I can be a strong leader. That's why I have the family crest tattooed on my back; so I can always remember where it started and how far we've come." Ochaco replied softly as fingers dug against the top of the tattoo. The silence between them grew as neither knew what to say next, the only sound a nearby clock ticking softly.

"…I guess I truly don't understand how your world works, Ochaco. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed it'd be easy to tear apart from your family like I did," Ojiro apologized quietly after a few minutes. Everything he assumed about Yakuza was wrong. He never thought about how generational power affected each new heir, how their lives were restricted when it came to simple, everyday activities like getting coffee or going shopping. Publicly, Yakuza were notorious for their crimes, lawlessness, and overall callous personalities and appearances. People didn't trust them. Couldn't trust them. "I don't want you to think I tore away from them for that sole reason. Ever since I left home they've struggled with household income since my mother got sick. Dad works himself to the bone and now my younger brother has stepped into my role. I aligned myself with your family in order to help them. I may never forgive them for stealing my childhood away, but that doesn't mean I resent them. Acceptance is the first step to inner peace."

"You sound like Aizawa,"

"Yeah, maybe a bit. Guess I've been hanging around him too much." Ojiro chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. While she didn't seem entirely over the incident, the tears weren't flowing. There seemed to be so much built-up emotion within the brunette that she couldn't properly express the frustrations, fears. "I'm going to go back and check on how things are going with his surgery. Do you want me to bring you something or would you like to come back to the waiting room?"

"I'm fine, thank you. I just need some time to collect myself. I'm…I'm sorry for snapping at you. Stress has been eating away at me lately and this incident pushed me over the edge. I apologize, Ojiro." Ochaco finally turned directly towards him, bowing slightly with hands at her front. Though he was surprised at the gesture, the blonde let out a soft sigh and a small smile. Even though she was breaking protocol right now by bowing to him, it was just a part of her personality. A part that made Ochaco her own individual and not just another Yakuza title.

"Don't worry about it. I understand being under a lot of stress. Are you sure you'll be alright by yourself? Should I find someone…?"

"No need, we'll manage things from here." A man abruptly muttered in his ear and the martial artist swung his head around to see at least four, heavily armed Yakuza assisting the heiress. They were stealthy enough to fly under his radar. "Head back to the waiting room and await further instructions."

"Understood."

Ojiro slowly made his way back to the Surgical wing of the hospital. Conflicting emotions swirled within as he replayed the conversation over and over. She was frantic running into the hospital, probably ever since she got the call. He was her number one priority…he's the only one she had right now. With both of her parents gone for a vaguely determined time, Aizawa was the closest family member she had at arm's reach. And with the chance of that safety net being yanked away for good…no, he wouldn't think like that. Aizawa seemed to be one of the strongest and most respected Yakuza of the Uraraka. Surely a minor skirmish with a rival gang wasn't enough to take him out. But those injuries were no joke.

A shattered elbow restricted movement for half of his arm. Fighting with one arm was plausible though not ideal. It seemed to be his dominant hand as well. If he were attacked again once healed, would it make him an easier target? Could he fight again after this? And what about the Shigaraki gang who launched the attack? Would they continue to push into Musutafu territory before overtaking the main estate? Aizawa had rushed him up to date on the current situation with their other bases being attacked and members being slain. Did that mean their number one rival was trying to weed out her location?

He stopped short of the doors that Ochaco burst through just minutes ago, glancing through the viewing windows. It seemed Captain Yagi had left for the evening, or was taking an important call, meaning only Midoriya and Kirishima remained with another officer hanging out by the receptionist desk. They didn't know…their aspirations to wipe out the Yakuza for a better future now included him. Forever he was tied to the Uraraka name. Would they strike him down as well? Throw him in jail for the rest of his days? His hand slowly reached for the handle. Even if he admitted his alliance…they would still trust him, right?

"Welcome back," The receptionist brightly exclaimed as the blonde entered the room once more. "I'm afraid your boss was called away for an important call. I hope that's not a problem for you."

"Not at all, thank you for relaying the message. I'm just going to go sit with my friends over there. Has the surgery started yet?" Ojiro asked quieter in case the others hadn't been informed. The nurse nodded.

"I believe it just stared a few minutes ago. The doctor is estimating at least two hours for repairs and damage inspections. Your friend is in good hands. Let me know if you need anything at all!"

"I will, thank you."

"Everything good? Where did Miss Ochaco go?" Izuku asked once Ojiro settled between them heavily.

"Ochaco is just…taking a bit of a breather in a closed waiting area. The news really shook her up," Ojiro explained. "She and Sergeant Aizawa go way back, all the way to her childhood. Guess he's been like a second father to her. I don't blame her for freaking out and getting agitated about being turned away."

"So, I understand if you're not ready to talk," Kirishima started carefully while leaning back against the chair, a loud pop procuring from the moment. "But what happened all those weeks? Where did you go without warning?"

"It was something I had to do because my family is in heavy debt. I'm okay, nothing bad happened! I'm just contractually obligated not to give extensive details…"

"Why didn't you say something? We all could've pitched in to help!" Kirishima exclaimed only to be gently shushed by the receptionist. He gave a sheepish head bow in response, quickly lowering his voice. "Seriously, it wouldn't have been an issue. That's what friends are for."

"I appreciate the offer; it's just the deal was too good to deny, and it covered the debt. All I need to do is train Ochaco and her bodyguards in martial arts. And even then that's only a few days a week so the remainder is assisting with anything else she needs." Ojiro prayed they took the excuse. While not technically wrong for the most part, it's all he could think of without blabbing she was Uraraka lineage.

"That does seem to be a good deal," Izuku added in, fingers pinching at his bottom lip in frenzied thought.

"Right? The best part is the contract completes by the end of the month. Of course, I've offered to come back whenever she needs me to; I actually don't mind the busy work. After my annual training in the mountains there's usually not much for me to do locally. Besides, she really puts up a challenge. I couldn't even beat her earlier today. The match ended in my first tie."

"What?!" Both officers quietly shouted.

"You couldn't defeat someone? Let alone a girl?" Kirishima sputtered out in disbelief. "You've never tied and very rarely lose! She can't be that good, right? Not that I'm saying females are weaker or anything, it's just a bit surprising! Though…we've seen Miss Haniko utilize those martial arts skills before…"

"That's true. She nearly slammed Mina into my entryway rug after being surprised with a popper. Mina still gets excited talking about it. You should've seen it Ojiro, I've never seen someone react so fast to a potential threat! Then she went into a strange trance like she was waiting for a secondary attack. We had to call Sergeant Aizawa to talk her out of it. With you mentioning their years of knowing one another, it makes more sense that he could pull her from it so fast." Izuku input, quickly noticing the odd look on his friend's face. It was like he was trying to figure something out, yet it conflicted. "You alright? Was it something I said?"

"I just didn't realize you guys already met…when was this?" Was that where she was going with Aizawa in the mornings? To meet up with his friends? How in the world did that start? After the shooting incident? Also…Haniko as an alias? He'd need to stick with that name from now on to avoid suspicions.

"Little over a month ago?" Izuku confirmed Kirishima's question with a nod. "Damn, already been a few weeks. I guess her father is on a diplomatic tour around the country and asked Aizawa for a favor. Midoriya and I were instructed to escort Miss Ochaco around town a few hours a day. She really hit it off with Mina and Hagakure. They'd flip if they knew she was here. It's been a bit rough since her sudden departure."

"What caused her to leave so suddenly?" Ojiro inquired as his own interest piqued. Ochaco never mentioned the outings after Aizawa nearly riddled his friends with holes. "I was preoccupied with training her team that I didn't notice."

"Miss Ochaco ended up having a severe panic attack after a phone call in my office. She made it down three flights of stairs before I could catch her; and that was impressive because she was in heels." Izuku half-heartedly joked though his face told otherwise. Both hands interlocked over his knees as he leaned forward, reminiscing about the incident. "She was so freaked out that I couldn't get her to calm down. After taking my hand, all she did was mutter my name then faint. Kirishima had to call an ambulance since I didn't bring my phone. The month long contract was voided that day. This is the first time we've seen her in public since."

"That's insane," Ojiro breathed. "I never realized that happened. I know she's under a lot of stress lately, maybe that's why."

"Possibly. Anyways, apart from you being on a casual name basis with our former client, what's the deal with you not wanting to call Hagakure?" Kirishima suddenly diverted back to the topic Ojiro was avoiding. The subtle flinching caused a red eyebrow to raise. "She's been worried sick…"

"I know…I saw the missing persons poster before I arrived at the police station. This contract I'm in restricts external communication due to security protocols. It's serious enough that they took my personal phone and gave me a burner one to use in case of emergency. Even documents are monitored going in and out so I couldn't write a letter explaining. I feel horrible about it, honest. But with you offering to call her earlier, Midoriya; I panicked." The blonde admitted softly with closed eyes. So close yet still so far…she needed to stay safe until he was done. Just a few more weeks. "I don't want to risk Toru getting involved until I'm free and clear from my duties. Something might happen then she could be kidnapped, held hostage—"

"By Miss Ochaco? Not likely unless she's secretly a Yakuza going undercover as a politicians daughter." Kirishima snorted at the absurdity of it. Izuku remained silent at the remark, expression unreadable as hair shifted to further cover his face. Ojiro let out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Have you been watching too much of Love without Boundaries? It's all fiction man, that stuff never happens in real life."

If only they knew…

"Right, probably too much of that show. I totally wasn't expecting you guys to be in front of the police station earlier. I'd been given a free pass for the day and that's kind of where I ended up. I was going to turn around until you tackled me into the concrete. Nasty bruise forming from that, thanks."

"Ah, my bad! I just got so excited to see you alive and well that I didn't think much…or really at all. Blame instinct."

"You always like to react first think later, Kirishima."

"True, true. It's one of my defining qualities though. Totally why Mina fell for me—"

Izuku tuned out the conversation as it switched to wedding talk. Warning bells were ringing in his head once more while mulling over what Ojiro mentioned. He'd been affiliated with Ochaco prior to them stepping in for three weeks. Unable to contact the outside world for 'security' reasons. Becoming defensive and skirting around direct answers when prompted. Even for a supposed politicians daughter it seemed odd; Ochaco could easily talk about her normal life, yet Ojiro immediately diverted on similar topics? And what of the fact that the last name given had limited records? A verified birth certificate, no driver's license, not even a local address. Some of those could have weak explanations. The rest couldn't and didn't.

Like the shooting incident where Ojiro was spotted driving a very expensive, blacked out SUV. Despite him mentioning partaking in other chores under Ochaco's request, going from a martial artist teacher to driver didn't make sense. Familiarity of the area would swing the twitching needle closer to plausible, but that's what specific drivers were hired for. Not someone hired to teach martial arts. The timespan was too short to be hired for one position and then switching to the other…unless there was a reason behind the decision.

Like being spotted in public by two friends who happened to be detectives.

Add on what Sergeant Aizawa mentioned earlier, about him knowing when the time comes. Was that why Captain Yagi was in so many meetings with high clearance? Was the U.A. Special Police Force about to engage in Yakuza turf wars? His boss seemed so confident in his answer, too. Like he knew what they were planning to do.

But what bothered him the absolute most was when he returned home after being dismissed by Aizawa in the hospital, he entered the office to find the whiteboard without its cover on and a line connecting the Uraraka focal point and Ojiro's name had been smudged. That board hadn't been touched after the threat to leave it alone weeks prior and no one but him entered the room. Ochaco was the only other one in there. Why was that line traced over with a finger or piece of cloth? Curiosity or a deeper connection than the eye could see?

Izuku slowly stood. What he was about to do could get him killed if his thinking was correct. For the sake of the city—his, their, home; he had to know.

Was Ochaco Haniko…really Ochaco Uraraka?

"Bathroom, Midoriya?" Ojiro asked suddenly, virescent quickly darting over to him. He'd been watching him travel down the spiraling thought train. The blonde had a hunch he was getting up for another reason with the seriousness of his expression.

"Uh, yeah. Which way?"

"Down the hallway, take a right then it's on the left, second door down. I was planning on getting a drink, why don't I go with? Want anything, Kirishima?"

"Nah, I'm good for now. Midoriya already covered my coffee earlier and I've had my fill of being pampered today. I'm going to give Mina a call downstairs real quick if you two are going to step out for a minute." Kirishima stood as well, stretching high above his head before reaching into his pocket. With a nod of acknowledgement the two set off from the waiting room.

"Did you get bored with the wedding talk, Midoriya? Noticed you spaced out for a bit," The martial artists casually struck up conversation as they wandered down the empty hallway. Not very many people were having surgery so late in the afternoon and less people were waiting around all night.

"Nah, just thinking of something else. Been an exhausting day." Izuku replied weakly, tossing a brief smile at his friend who suddenly became interested in going the same direction. The vending machines weren't down this hallway.

"That was a bit insane! I've never seen a police station go under lock and key so fast. I was worried when you suddenly ran off into the chaos, gun drawn. Did you have to fire at someone up there?"

"The situation turned too dangerous as a fire started. Sergeant Aizawa got shot in the line of duty from an unknown sniper, hence the facial wound and injured arm. What bothers me the most is these people managed to corner him without triggering any security measures. They destroyed a camera in the skirmish, too. Whoever they are, they're not going down without a fight." Overly excited about an intense interaction with unknowns. Constant hand movements to distract from the path they were travelling down, possibly in hopes of diverting away from a certain area.

Cover-up.

Ojiro was attempting to keep him away. He knew where Ochaco was.

"Man, I chose the wrong time and place today," Ojiro laughed with a head shake. There it was again. Redirecting. Joking about a serious situation. It was completely out of character.

Izuku slowed to a stop, his friend doing the same though staying a few feet back. The intensity of the gaze drilling into his head gave away the casual chatter. Slowly turning to face his friend, he swallowed hard as his mouth dried out. "Ojiro…there's something I need to ask you…"

"Anything, Midoriya." He answered earnestly though his expression said otherwise. Dark eyes traced over his face constantly, studying any sleeved emotions and tensing up when something unexpected flashed by. Mashirao Ojiro was smart and had strong intuition for someone so young. It also made him dangerous during combat.

"Are you working for the Uraraka Yakuza?"

Strained silence filled the hallway, both men staring intensely; one unwilling to back down as the other remained impassive. Izuku already had his answer just from the clenching jaw of his friend. Though he wouldn't ever speak the truth allowed, Ojiro didn't need to; he'd already figured everything out. If Ojiro had been initiated into the Uraraka clan…

That confirmed his second theory.

"I don't know what you're talking about. That's a rather strange question to ask suddenly, Midoriya. Are you sure you're fine from what happened earlier? It seemed pretty traumatic being on the frontline." Ojiro asked quietly, no longer jovial. A gaze that darkened in warning despite a face that remained neutral. Every muscle in his body tensed for a potential fight. They were being watched right now. Out of sight, out of mind yet never truly alone. Uraraka Yakuza were no joke after an attack on a high-ranking member. "Should we get you looked at—"

"There's a reason you're avoiding the question, Ojiro." Izuku interrupted sharply, going so far as to take a step forward. Ojiro took a half step back. Not to run but to fight. Stop pushing, Midoriya! He's warning you! "Nothing you said earlier lines up with what Miss Haniko has previously mentioned. You both had similar stories though you instantly redirected, avoided a straight answer. Your reasoning for taking that job was because you were desperate to save your family debt, something only a major loan company could do. Or—"

"Stop." Ojiro warned lowly though his friend persisted forward with another step. "Don't, Midoriya. Leave it alone."

"You signed a loan with the Uraraka clan, didn't you?"

"Midoriya, please…"

"By doing so you've now branded yourself as a member despite your contract 'expiring' at the end of the month. You're never truly set free. You will always—"

"You're going to get us both killed," Ojiro hissed fearfully with a quick glance around. Izuku faltered only slightly before continuing forward until they were a foot apart. "Leave it alone. I'm fine, I'm safe. Don't get involved in this."

"I care about your safety, Ojiro. All you had to do was talk to us. We could've found a way to save your family; now it's nearly impossible to get you free. This was the wrong choice." Izuku eased back on the accusatory tone. It wasn't his place to judge what his friends did just as long as they remained safe and away from Yakuza. A scarred hand rested firmly on his friend's shoulder. "Look, I can get you out of here and take you to see Chief Yagi. He might be able to negotiate a deal with the Uraraka clan and have you fully released, no ties."

"You don't understand anything about this situation!" Ojiro had enough of the heroics and shoved the hand from his shoulder before backing up, more guarded than scared. Izuku remained rooted in place with his hand slowly falling back to his side. "When I said I was fine, I meant it. Not a scratch on my body. Three meals a day. A private room. I. Am. Happy."

"Then why would you abandon Toru like that? Without a word? You want to know the other reason Kirishima and Mina came back to town? Because you went missing!" Izuku retaliated out of frustration, hands thrown up in the air. He wasn't understanding the severity of the situation he dug himself into! His nerves were already fraying thanks to the shootout on the station roof, now the cherry on top was his friend being a Yakuza. "Almost all of the class plans to come back to help us find you! That's how desperate Toru is to have you home! What you did was incredibly selfish, Ojiro."

"My family was going to be thrown out on the streets, Midoriya! My salary can barely cover my own rent and food, let alone for my family! Mom got sick and dad has been working himself to death trying to keep up on bills! My younger brother is now taking care of my siblings at the age of nine. Nine. That's not fair for him to live the life I struggled to escape! Why can't you just drop this?!"

"Because I care about you! You're my friend! You disappeared and everyone had the thought you were dead. How do you think that would've played out if Kirishima or I had to go knock on Toru's door and say we found your lifeless body somewhere?"

"Leave Toru out of this; I'm trying to protect her—"

"By disappearing without a word? Did you really think that was the best option, Ojiro?"

"What else was I supposed to do? I couldn't contact anyone!"

"You should've tried to find another way. When Kirishima identified you while you were out driving, a damn message in a bottle could've been thrown! Anything!"

"That's enough."

Ojiro instantly fell to his knees in dogeza, face obscured by trembling hands. Izuku stiffened at the familiar voice and clenched both hands tightly at his sides. He didn't want to see her face…not after confirming what he feared. The heels clicking against the tile floors rang loudly in his ears. Virescent softened at the sight of his friend trembling against the ground. Dread washed over as the detective realized he'd pushed way too far and endangered his friend. Probably even his own life.

"Forgive me!" Ojiro sobbed quietly against the floor. "I didn't mean for it to get this far! I tried to stop it—"

"This wasn't your fault, Ojiro. Raise yourself from the ground." A soft voice ordered lightly as the heels slowed to a stop. When he barely moved, the shifting of clothing indicated someone crouching down. That was when she entered Izuku's peripherals.

Ochaco had a hand extended out for his friend, patiently waiting for him to grab it. Tendrils of chestnut blocked most of her face from his view, so he remained stoic to see how it all played out. There was no noticeable malice in her voice, just understanding and…sadness? Once Ojiro lifted himself up, accepting the hand though using his own body to shift to a stand, he avoided all eye contact with the detective. A guard appeared out of nowhere and shuffled him out of sight, leaving just the two standing in the hallway.

"So, it's true then," Izuku started hoarsely, quickly clearing his throat of pounding heartbeats. When Ochaco failed to move or speak he took that as his cue to continue. "Ojiro is a part of the Uraraka Yakuza."

"I really wish you hadn't interfered with this, Izuku," She spoke softly, sorrowful.

"He was missing for weeks…"

"I understand your concerns. Your friend had his own reasons for doing this. Ojiro understood the consequences of our agreement."

"…you know how upset Hagakure has been, how she's had to practically beg all of her friends to help find him. You tried to be friends with her."

"I wanted to be friends with her and Miss Ashido. I wanted to be friends with Kirishima, Ojiro…I wanted to be your friend, Izuku. None of that was fabricated I can assure. I treasure the time we spent together—"

"Then why…why did you lie to us?!" Izuku rasped out with swelling emotions. There was one thing that Izuku Midoriya couldn't tolerate…and that was being lied to by a supposed friend. "You could've just been honest from the start, Miss Ochaco! I don't even know if that's your real name or not; you could've lied to me when you were getting attacked in the alleyway! Your last name…it's not Haniko. There aren't any records of Diplomat Haniko ever having a daughter named Ochaco, or any children for that matter. He also hasn't toured in nearly ten years due to ailing health…who are you really?"

Ochaco remained silent, turning away. It took a few minutes of composure before she finally, tentatively, faced him. Overflowing auburn had his reaction turning to stunned with a zing of regret. Izuku's body slumped a few degrees while taking in her expression. She looked absolutely tortured at the situation. No hand tried to swipe away the tears pouring over reddened cheeks, the saline staining the tile below. Quivering, pursed lips opened to take in a shaky breath.

"Because I was trying to protect you, Izuku. I didn't want you getting wrapped up in my lifestyle. I lied to protect you from what's about to happen in this city, to let you continue on with a normal life instead of being watched every waking hour and dream filled night. To prevent more innocent blood from being spilled in the streets."

"What…are you talking about…" Izuku breathed as her teary gaze shifted to the gifted watch still residing on his wrist. Slender fingers reached for it though he instinctively tensed up and pulled back, closing his fist. She hesitated then withdrew, clenching both hands together tightly. "I…I don't understand what you're getting at—"

"Ochaco is my real name, I didn't lie about that part," Ochaco sniffled against the back of her hand, seemingly in an attempt to regain emotional control.

"…your last name…then…"

"My full, legal name is Ochaco Uraraka. I am the only heir to the Uraraka bloodline and will be ascending to the throne by January." She announced steadily with an unwavering gaze. Izuku's heart plummeted into the pits of his stomach as the name echoed around his mind. His brain suddenly seized up out of shock causing him to stand there with a slightly slacked jaw and frozen body.

The detective felt numb all over as she waited patiently for his response, the occasional small sniffle filling the tense atmosphere. Virescent widened in horror as recalled conversations aspiring to wipe out all Yakuza surfaced…conversations he had with her. The Uraraka heir. She never commented—no, she couldn't without giving away her identity and risking an attack. Everything was beginning to fall apart and Izuku stumbled back until he hit the wall, slowly sliding down to sit against the floor. Ochaco remained standing, hands formally resting against her front as she watched. He gripped onto his hair tightly as it dawned he'd royally fucked up.

Not even Captain Yagi could fix this.

"I will have to advise against you saying anything, Izuku," Ochaco started off so softly he wasn't even sure he heard it right. "If this had resulted in other people becoming aware…they would have to disappear. I will not intentionally harm you, your family, or your friends as long as you abide by this rule. I will use the full extent of my powers to protect what you cherish most. One promise is all I ask of you."

Izuku watched as Ochaco crouched down once more, the brunette fully shifting to rest against her knees on the white floor. Even if he could speak at this point, what the hell was he supposed to say? Thanks for not killing me right away? I never meant those passion-fueled conversations about cleaning up the streets of Musutafu by eliminating all Yakuza? Something soft and warm grazed across his hand before gently shifting it out of his hair. Then the same happened with the other hand. Ochaco carefully clasped both scarred hands together. She gave a contemplating stare then lowered her gaze to the hands she currently held in one palm.

"You will most likely not see me after this interaction," She began, grazing over the scars on his hand with one finger. Almost curiously she traced, as if imagining how they happened. "It would be best for you not to seek my company either. The world is about to become dangerous, and I don't want you involved any further."

"Y-you mean because of the Shigaraki incident…" He finally managed to slip out while watching her finger shift over his scars. A part of him wanted to instantly recoil from her touch, for with a snap of her fingers she could have him disappear from existence. This was the main reason he stayed away from Yakuza; unpredictability. Her nod was the answer.

"Shigaraki is a powerful rival gang to the Uraraka. We've been fighting for decades though not often publicly. If we falter in our protection to the city then—"

"They'll take over." Izuku finished in a whisper.

"Hm. I've admired your intelligence, tenacity, and unparalleled sixth sense from the moment we met. You have the makings of a great detective, Izuku. By saying this I want you to understand where I'm going, why I didn't want you involved in this territory war between gangs. You have a bright future ahead where you can make the world a better place. In my world, my path is engraved in stone from three hundred years back. People will always scorn and jeer at Yakuza, it's how society has been for hundreds of years. The past few generations have shifted the focus away from the crime aspect of our family name, yet there will always be bloodshed as long as opposing forces exist."

"So…what does that mean when you ascend the throne in January?" Izuku asked hesitantly, trying to digest every ounce of information being thrown in his face. Ochaco was willingly admitting information never released before, so maybe he could get to the root of the turf war…her smile slipping away ground that thought process to a halt. Did she figure it out?

Ochaco graciously stood and took a partial step back, turning to something out of sight from Izuku. As she turned back around the severity of the situation weighed heavily on them both as a gun pointed directly at the detective. He tensed up, placing one against the wall in order to push off and dodge the shot. Her expression remained fairly neutral though body language oozed intense authority. Auburn eyes steeled to an emotionless stare. Not an ounce of hesitation in her bones.

"Would you really pull the trigger against someone you considered a friend?" Izuku swallowed hard, glancing around for a fast escape route. The best option would be to try and take her out at the legs while thrusting up on the hand holding the gun. Of course, her reflexes were nothing to sneeze at. She seemed to debate for a few seconds prior to pulling the trigger.

A loud click filled the air as Izuku shot forward, hand reaching for the gun. He grasped onto Ochaco's wrist while simultaneously sweeping at the nearest leg. Though as he threw his weight to overpower the heiress, she latched onto the back of his arm then rolled herself forward with a jerk. They both went tumbling against the floors, sending the gun skidding ten feet away. Ochaco moved first to grab it until a hand latched onto an ankle. Taking the opportunity the brunette shot a shoeless kick against his shoulder, briefly loosening the hold for an escape. It didn't deter him long as an arm wrapped around her waist from the back and a lot of muscle pushed down over her twisted hips.

"Don't do this! We can talk this out!" Izuku begged as he tried to fend off the heavy hitting hand and arm hits. He didn't want to fight, didn't want to hurt her! "Miss Ochaco, please—"

"Then prove to me you can fight back. Prove to me you can survive what's coming!" Ochaco ordered, landing an elbow against his collarbone. He fought back the cough of pain and snatched the offending appendage, pinning it down at her side. "If you can't even fend off an opponent to retrieve a gun, how do you expect to win against highly trained Yakuza? Fight, Izuku!"

Izuku inhaled sharply. Ochaco was on her back, twisted legs pressed against the tile and immobilized, both arms pinned; one above her head and the other angled out from her waist. Fierce determination shone through previously steeled barrier, and for a moment he just sat there, incapacitating a powerful Yakuza heiress. Yet there was something odd about her reaction, the way she said to fight. How she stopped resisting and was just waiting for a response. His hands released from her arms slowly, shifting his body and swaying to a stand.

Enough of this.

"I'm not going to fight you, Miss Uraraka, and I won't give you the response you want for self-justification. Rest assured; I want nothing to do with you or the Yakuza from this point on. It's already ruined my friend's life and caused innumerable amounts of grief. Your turf war is why Sergeant Aizawa is in surgery right now and it never should've happened if you claim to care about this city. This conversation will remain confidential since sending men would only further trouble the people I care about. Remember this though...if you try anything to hurt the people of Musutafu, I will take you down. And here," Izuku calmly removed the expensive watch from his wrist. Without hesitation he tossed it back to Ochaco, watching as she carefully caught the jewelry. "I don't need your bribery either. Leave me and my friends alone."

The brief moment of utter surprise flickering across her face spoke volumes. Izuku studied how her eyes lowered in thought, the heiress gently handling the watch as if it were the most delicate thing in the world. After nearly twenty seconds of digesting his proclamation, Ochaco stood and brushed herself off all the while remaining focused on anything but him. She scooped down to grab the gun and for a moment Izuku thought their fight was about to start all over again. But to his surprise she pitched it sharply in his direction. He snatched it mid-air and thanks to countless hours of training, immediately made to clear the chamber. Except there wasn't anything in there. No magazine either. Glancing it over he found it was a tactical training gun made to simulate the real thing.

She never planned on actually shooting him.

"Wh—" Emerald darted upwards to find no one standing there. He whirled around yet he was the only one remaining in the hallway, training gun in hand. Ochaco Uraraka had disappeared without a trace. "Why would she…"

"Midoriya! There you are! Man, didn't you hear the drama going on downstairs? I just had to assist with an arrest of a guy going nuts in the ER entrance. Hey, have you seen Ojiro? He hasn't come back to the waiting room." Kirishima called out to his friend from the other end of the hallway, waving a hand to catch his attention.

Izuku shoved the prop into his jacket, ensuring it was fully covered before turning to his friend. The freshly watch-less wrist remained partially concealed in a pocket.

"He had something urgent come up."

---

Shota slowly stirred after the anesthesia wore off, leaving an odd feeling in his lungs once manual breathing turned on. The bright lights of the recovery room had his free arm covering his face. A few blinks and intense thinking had the memory of why he was in the hospital coming back. His right arm was pinned tight against his body, wrapped in bandages and stuck in a sling. Tape stuck to what little stubble he could grow as a thick pad of gauze covered beneath his eye. Various tubes connected to a moveable IV cart, a multitude of fluids keeping him hydrated and pain-free. A gruff grunt confirmed the situation. He'd been ambushed atop the station.

How the hell they got up there he didn't know; no one should've been able to climb that high without some sort of assistance. Unless that was a rat in the station that slipped the group a security card. He didn't want to think of that. Hizashi no doubt was tracking them down through the city cameras. The more important thing was—

"Don't…go…"

A mumble drew sluggish eyes towards the noise. Ochaco was resting against the side of the bed, head planted on folded arms and sound asleep. Hair and clothes were disheveled like she'd gotten into a schoolyard fight. Shota blinked a few times. Had she been in a fight? Even the jacket resting over a nearby table had various levels of dirt staining the back, white blouse rumpled beyond normal movements. Focus shifted back to the flushed, teary expression that remained. Crying. The amount of stress she'd been under was enormous. Without her parents around to help prepare for the ceremony, it was up to him and other higher-ups to assist. But with the issues going on at the police station, now exponentially more dangerous thanks to Shigaraki, there hadn't been much time to help.

Ever since she was little, Ochaco stuck to him like glue.

Who could blame her? He'd raised her like his own when Kenji and Fumi were away or too busy managing the clan. While Ochaco had the entirety of the Yakuza to guide and assist as she grew, she mainly stuck to him and both parents. Friends weren't a thing as a child. It was too much of a security risk; young children tended to blab about anything they heard. So she grew up surrounded by a lot of big brothers. Especially a certain one who spoiled her constantly with mochi.

Aizawa sighed. Poor thing must've sprinted here the moment word reached the main house. He never wanted to worry her; that was the main thing he avoided doing. Whenever she cried, it meant hell for whoever dared to cause such sadness. Out of every single member of the Uraraka clan, Shota Aizawa was the most protective.

A hand rested gently against her crown, smoothing out the frazzled chestnut locks. Things were going to get worse from now on, but at this moment...

"You don't need to worry about me, Ochaco. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

---

I actually had to rewrite a good amount of a section because I made Deku too nice lol. Can't have him being super nice and understanding so early on! I think this was the fastest I've ever written such a long chapter. Boo Shigaraki! Yay for motivation!

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW! It's hard for me as an author to tell if people like the story or not! Sometimes I write so fast that mistakes are made, please point them out!