Section 1: Shopping and Bonding
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city in a golden hue that reflected off the glass storefronts of the bustling shopping district. The air was alive with chatter and laughter, the kind of vibrant energy that only a weekend evening could muster. Momo Yaoyorozu adjusted her bag on her shoulder, glancing around at her companions with a rare, relaxed smile.
"Okay, what's first?" Jiro asked, her earphone jacks swaying slightly as she adjusted the strap of her guitar-shaped purse. She looked up at Momo expectantly.
Yui Kodai, as usual, trailed slightly behind the group, her stoic expression betraying little of what she might be feeling. Yet, the way her eyes lingered on the stores hinted at a quiet interest. Toru Hagakure, however, was anything but subtle. She clapped her invisible hands excitedly.
"Let's hit the fashion boutiques first!" Toru exclaimed. "I saw this cute dress the other day that would look amazing on you, Momo!"
Ochako Uraraka chimed in with a grin. "Ooh, maybe we can find something that screams 'hero in training' but, you know, fashionable."
Momo chuckled softly, her cheeks pink. "Alright, but I think Yui would look fantastic in something bold. Don't you agree, Jiro?"
Jiro shrugged, her tone dry but warm. "Yui could wear a potato sack and still look intimidating."
Yui's lips twitched, almost forming a smile. "I'll pass on the sack, thanks."
As the girls wandered into the first store, they were enveloped by racks of colorful clothing and the subtle hum of upbeat music. Toru darted ahead, plucking outfits from hangers and holding them up for inspection.
"This one!" she said, brandishing a sleek black jacket toward Yui. "Totally your vibe."
Yui tilted her head, inspecting the garment. "It's nice," she said simply, but there was a glimmer of approval in her eyes.
Jiro leaned against a nearby rack, observing the scene. "It's weird seeing you like this, Yui. Almost like you're… human."
Yui shot her a mock glare. "Don't get used to it."
Momo stifled a laugh as Ochako held up a flowy sundress. "What about this for you, Momo? It's so elegant!"
Momo took the dress, running her fingers over the fabric. "It's lovely, but… maybe a bit much for everyday wear?"
"It's perfect," Ochako insisted, her brown eyes sparkling. "You deserve to treat yourself sometimes."
Jiro rolled her eyes but smiled. "Yeah, you're always working so hard. Take a break, princess."
The group moved from store to store, laughter and teasing punctuating their conversations. They tried on accessories, posed in front of mirrors, and shared their thoughts on everything from school to future hero ambitions. Even Yui, usually reserved, found herself engaging more than usual.
A Glimpse of Vulnerability
As they exited yet another boutique, the arcade across the street caught their attention. Neon lights blinked invitingly, the muffled sounds of cheering and game music spilling onto the street.
"Let's go!" Toru said, already halfway across the crosswalk.
The group followed, stepping into the chaotic world of flashing screens and mechanical beeps. They split into pairs, tackling claw machines, rhythm games, and racing simulators.
Yui found herself in a shooting game booth with Jiro, the two of them locked in a fierce competition.
"You're going down," Jiro said, her tone playful but determined.
Yui smirked, her fingers steady on the trigger. "We'll see."
Meanwhile, Momo and Ochako were trying their luck with a claw machine, the latter nearly hanging off the side in her attempt to guide the claw.
"Almost… almost…" Ochako muttered, her tongue sticking out in concentration.
The claw released its grip, and the plush prize tumbled into the retrieval slot. Ochako whooped in victory, holding up the stuffed bear triumphantly.
Momo clapped, her smile wide. "Well done!"
"You mean we did it!" Ochako corrected, handing Momo the prize. "Here, you should keep it."
Momo hesitated but accepted the bear, her heart warmed by the gesture.
The Encounter
As they left the arcade, the group wandered down a quieter street, still chatting animatedly. It was then that Toru froze, pointing ahead.
"Isn't that Bakugo?" she whispered.
The girls followed her gaze. Sure enough, Bakugo Katsuki was walking down the street, his usual confident stride replaced by something slower, more subdued. He held a bouquet of white lilies, their delicate petals stark against his rough demeanor.
"What's he doing with flowers?" Jiro asked, arching a brow.
Ochako frowned. "Maybe he's visiting someone?"
Yui crossed her arms, her gray eyes narrowing. "Let's find out."
"You want to follow him?" Momo asked, hesitating. "That feels… invasive."
Toru shrugged. "He'll never know we're there."
Reluctantly, Momo joined the group as they trailed behind Bakugo, keeping a safe distance. The blonde boy's path led them to the outskirts of the city, to a quiet cemetery. The sight of the iron gates and rows of tombstones silenced the girls, their earlier curiosity replaced by a sense of solemnity.
Bakugo stopped in front of a modest grave, kneeling to place the lilies on the ground. The girls hung back, hiding behind a cluster of trees. Jiro plugged one of her earphone jacks into the ground, amplifying the faint sound of Bakugo's voice.
Section 2: The Cemetery Encounter
The graveyard was hauntingly quiet, the only sounds being the faint rustle of leaves and the distant hum of city life. The soft glow of the setting sun painted long shadows across the tombstones, adding an ethereal quality to the scene. Momo, Yui, Ochako, Toru, and Jiro crouched behind a large tree, watching Bakugo as he knelt before the grave.
Jiro pressed her earphone jack further into the soil, her face a mask of concentration. The girls waited in hushed silence as she listened. Her eyes widened slightly as she turned to the others.
"He's talking to someone," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Or… the grave."
Yui raised an eyebrow. "What's he saying?"
Jiro hesitated before relaying Bakugo's words. "'I miss you, Auntie Inko. It's been so long.'" Her tone grew softer, almost reverent, as she repeated his words. "'Everything went to hell after you… after you were gone. I'm sorry about everything that happened with Izuku. I didn't mean for things to go that way.'"
The name hung in the air like a specter.
"Izuku?" Momo echoed, her brow furrowing. "Who's Izuku?"
"I don't know," Jiro admitted. "But… listen to this." She resumed her quiet translation. "'I'm going to make it right. I'll become the greatest hero, and I'll make sure that what happened to him doesn't happen to anyone else. If he's still out there… I'll bring him to justice.'"
"Justice?" Yui murmured, her eyes narrowing. "What does he mean by that?"
Ochako shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe… maybe we shouldn't be listening to this. It sounds personal."
But Jiro continued. "'Izuku scares me. Even more than her.'" She stopped, glancing up at Yui with an almost imperceptible nod. "'He's haunted me for years. I've never forgotten what happened that day.'"
A shiver ran through the group, the weight of Bakugo's words settling over them like a heavy fog. They had never seen him like this—vulnerable, haunted, human. The fear in his voice was a stark contrast to the explosive confidence they were so used to.
"Who is this Izuku?" Momo whispered, her mind racing. "And what happened between them?"
Yui folded her arms, her expression unreadable. "Whoever he is, he's someone Bakugo can't forget. That says a lot."
As the girls exchanged uneasy glances, Bakugo stood, brushing the dirt off his knees. He stared at the grave for a long moment before turning away, his face a storm of emotions. The girls ducked behind the tree, holding their breath as he passed them. They thought they were in the clear—until Bakugo froze mid-step.
"Oi," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I know you're there. Come out."
Section 3: The Confrontation
The group emerged from behind the tree, their faces ranging from sheepish to guilty. Toru tried to shrink back, but her invisibility didn't help her escape Bakugo's piercing glare.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snapped, his red eyes blazing with anger. "You think this is funny? Spying on me while I—"
"It's not like that!" Ochako interjected, raising her hands defensively. "We just… we were curious, that's all."
"Curious?" Bakugo barked, his fists clenching. "You don't know anything about this, about me, or about—" He stopped himself, his jaw tightening as he looked away.
"We're sorry," Momo said, stepping forward. Her voice was calm but firm. "We shouldn't have followed you. It was wrong."
Bakugo's glare softened slightly at her words, but his anger still simmered beneath the surface. "Damn right it was wrong. This isn't your business."
Yui crossed her arms, her gray eyes unflinching as she met Bakugo's gaze. "Who's Izuku?" she asked bluntly.
Bakugo flinched, his composure cracking for a split second before he recovered. "None of your damn business," he growled.
"Bakugo," Jiro said carefully, "we're not trying to pry. But… you were talking about him like he's dangerous. If he's a threat—"
"He's not just a threat," Bakugo interrupted, his voice low and venomous. "He's a monster."
The word hung in the air like a curse, sending a chill through the group.
"Izuku Midoriya," Bakugo continued, his tone bitter. "You don't know him, and you don't want to. He's not the kind of person you can reason with. He's—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Forget it. Just stay out of this. All of you."
The girls exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of Bakugo's words settling heavily in their minds. He turned away, his shoulders tense as he walked back toward the cemetery gates.
"Bakugo," Momo called after him. He stopped but didn't turn around. "Whatever happened… you're not alone in this. We're your classmates. Your friends. If you need help—"
"I don't need your help," Bakugo said sharply, cutting her off. "I'll handle this on my own. I always have."
With that, he walked away, leaving the group standing in silence.
Section 4: The Group's Reaction
As Bakugo disappeared into the distance, the group was left standing in uneasy silence under the sprawling tree. The cemetery's eerie stillness seemed to amplify the tension between them, each of their minds racing with unspoken thoughts.
"What… the hell was that?" Jiro finally broke the silence, her voice laced with disbelief.
Ochako hugged her arms around herself, her usually cheerful demeanor replaced with unease. "I've never seen Bakugo like that before. He was… scared."
"Not just scared," Yui said, her gray eyes narrowing as she stared at the direction Bakugo had gone. "He called Izuku a monster. That wasn't just fear. That was something deeper."
"Who even is Izuku?" Toru asked, her voice tinged with worry. "And why was Bakugo talking to that grave? What's the connection?"
Momo's hand instinctively went to the trinity necklace around her neck, her fingers tracing the intertwined symbols. "Inko Midoriya," she murmured. "That's the name on the grave."
Yui glanced at her cousin, catching the glint of curiosity in Momo's crimson eyes. "You're already piecing this together, aren't you?"
Momo hesitated before nodding. "Bakugo said everything went wrong after Inko Midoriya passed away. If she's Izuku's mother, then maybe… maybe Izuku changed after losing her."
Jiro frowned, crossing her arms. "That doesn't explain why Bakugo was apologizing to her or why he's so scared of this guy."
"It doesn't," Yui agreed, her tone measured, "but it does tell us that whoever Izuku is, he's tied to something big. Something that's shaken Bakugo to his core."
Ochako shifted uncomfortably. "I don't think we should get involved in this. Whatever it is, it's clearly personal."
"Exactly," Toru added, nodding. "If Bakugo wanted to tell us, he would. We shouldn't pry."
Yui's jaw tightened. "And what happens if whatever this is comes back to haunt him? You saw how he was. He's not going to ask for help, not even if he needs it."
Momo placed a gentle hand on Ochako's shoulder, her voice soft but resolute. "Bakugo might not want us to get involved, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't. We're his friends. If this Izuku is as dangerous as Bakugo says, then it's better to know than to be caught off guard."
The group fell into silence again, the weight of the decision pressing down on them.
Finally, Jiro sighed. "Alright. But we do this carefully. No assumptions, no jumping to conclusions. If we're going to look into this, we need to be smart about it."
Yui smirked faintly. "Smart's my middle name."
Toru gave her an exasperated look. "Yui, you just want to dig into this because you're nosy."
"Call it what you want," Yui replied, shrugging. "But if it helps us protect ourselves—and Bakugo—then it's worth it."
Later That Evening
The study in Momo's home was bathed in the soft glow of her high-tech monitor as the group gathered around, tension thick in the air. The polished wooden shelves and quiet hum of the air conditioner were comforting, but the atmosphere was anything but. Momo's fingers danced across the keyboard, her expression intense as she navigated through records and databases.
Yui leaned over her cousin's shoulder, her sharp eyes fixed on the screen. "Find anything yet?"
"Give me a moment," Momo replied, her tone clipped. Her crimson eyes narrowed as she scanned the search results. "There's not much, but… wait. Here."
The screen filled with information about Inko Midoriya. Momo clicked on a highlighted document, and a file opened, displaying sparse details about the woman.
"Inko Midoriya," Momo read aloud. "She worked as a seamstress, but—wait—she was also an employee at Yaoyorozu Industries."
The room fell silent. The name of their family's corporation hung in the air like a shadow, heavy and inescapable.
"She worked for your dad?" Jiro asked, breaking the silence.
Momo nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Yes, it seems so. She was employed there but… she was fired."
"Why?" Yui asked, her voice sharp.
Momo scrolled further down the file, her expression growing darker with every word she read. "The termination reason is listed as… psychosis, schizophrenia, and violence."
"Violence?" Ochako echoed, her voice tinged with disbelief. "What kind of violence?"
"There's no further detail here," Momo said, frowning. "But it says she lost her job and… she passed away two years later. It doesn't say how, though."
"Wait a minute," Yui interrupted, pointing at the screen. "What about her son? It says she had a son."
Momo clicked through another set of documents. A single line of text caught her attention.
"Izuku Midoriya," she read, her voice barely above a whisper. "Born quirkless. He would be seventeen now, going on eighteen. It says he attended Aldera Middle School before… he went missing."
"Quirkless?" Toru repeated, her voice a mix of surprise and confusion. "But Bakugo said he was a monster. How does that make sense?"
"And he went missing?" Jiro added. "People don't just vanish. Someone has to know what happened to him."
Yui's gaze darkened as she absorbed the information. "Aldera Middle School… that's the same school Bakugo went to, isn't it?"
Momo nodded slowly. "Yes, but Izuku would've been two years ahead of him. If they overlapped, Bakugo might've known him."
"And whatever happened between them must've left an impression," Yui said. "A big one."
A Troubling Revelation
The room was quiet again, the air filled with unspoken questions. Momo leaned back in her chair, her hands clasped together as she stared at the screen. "This doesn't add up. If he was quirkless, how could he become dangerous enough to make Bakugo… scared?"
Yui's eyes narrowed. "Quirks aren't the only way to gain power. There are… other means."
Ochako frowned, hugging her knees to her chest as she sat on the couch. "But why would someone quirkless need to? Unless…"
"Unless life pushed him into it," Jiro finished grimly. "If his mother lost her job, and then he lost her… he would've been left completely alone."
"That still doesn't explain why he disappeared," Momo said, her voice thoughtful. "Someone must've taken him in. Or he found a way to vanish on his own."
Toru shifted uncomfortably. "This is starting to sound really dark. Do you think… do you think he's alive?"
Yui crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "If he wasn't, Bakugo wouldn't be afraid of him."
The Pieces Come Together
Momo clicked on another file, this one tied to the incident at Yaoyorozu Industries. It was heavily redacted, with large sections blacked out, but a few details stood out.
"There was an incident shortly before Inko was fired," Momo said, reading aloud. "It doesn't specify what happened, but… the timing lines up with when Bakugo said everything went bad."
"An incident?" Jiro leaned closer. "What kind of incident?"
"It doesn't say," Momo admitted. "But if it was bad enough to get her fired, it must've been significant."
Yui's gaze lingered on the screen. "What if whatever happened at the company is tied to Izuku's disappearance? If Inko was fired for psychosis and violence, maybe there was something—or someone—pushing her."
Momo hesitated, her fingers pausing over the keyboard. "If that's true, then…"
"Then someone in your family might know more than they're letting on," Yui finished for her, her tone sharp.
A Shared Determination
The room fell silent once again, the weight of their discoveries pressing down on them. Momo leaned back in her chair, her gaze distant. "We need to be careful about this. Whoever Izuku is, he's clearly tied to something much bigger than just Bakugo's past."
Yui nodded. "Agreed. But if this involves our family—if Dad knew something about Inko and Izuku—then we can't just ignore it."
Ochako hugged herself tighter. "Do you really think your dad would hide something like that?"
Momo's expression hardened. "If it served the interests of the family… yes."
The weight of her words settled over the group, each of them grappling with the implications of what they'd uncovered.
Finally, Jiro spoke, her voice quiet but firm. "Whatever this is, we'll face it together. For Bakugo's sake—and for ours."
Yui smirked faintly. "You're all braver than I thought."
Momo managed a small smile. "And you're all better friends than I deserve. Thank you."
The Mystery Deepens
As the night wore on, the girls pored over what little information they could find. Every lead seemed to dead-end, leaving them more frustrated than before. But amidst the frustration, a sense of determination began to grow.
Momo leaned back in her chair, her gaze thoughtful. "We'll need to approach this carefully. No direct questions to Bakugo. He'll shut down if he thinks we're prying."
Yui smirked. "Leave the subtlety to me."
Toru gave her a skeptical look. "You're about as subtle as a sledgehammer."
"Hey, I can be subtle when I want to be," Yui shot back, crossing her arms. "You'll see."
Ochako sighed, looking between them. "Let's just make sure we don't overstep. Whatever this is, it's clearly painful for Bakugo. We don't want to make things worse."
The group nodded in agreement, the weight of their decision settling over them. They didn't know what they were stepping into, but one thing was certain—they were in it together.
And somewhere in the back of her mind, Yui couldn't shake the feeling that this mystery was tied to something much bigger. Something that could change everything.
A Divided Mission
The air in Momo's study was tense but determined as she and her friends planned their next steps. Each of them had their role, their piece of the puzzle to uncover. The weight of their mission was evident in their serious expressions.
"Okay," Momo began, her hands clasped tightly on the desk. "Here's how we'll do this. Ochako, you'll speak to one of the teachers from Aldera. I've already arranged the meeting and paid for their time. They were one of Izuku's instructors, so they might have insight into what he was like before he disappeared."
Ochako nodded, her brow furrowed in thought. "I'll make sure to ask the right questions. If anyone knows what happened, it would be someone who saw him every day."
"Good," Momo said, her tone resolute. "Jiro, you'll speak with Tsubasa. He was one of Bakugo's classmates, right?"
"Yeah," Jiro replied, crossing her arms. "If anyone has the guts to talk about Izuku around Bakugo, it's probably him. I'll track him down and see what I can find out."
Momo turned her gaze to Yui. "And you…?"
"I'll see if my mother will spill anything," Yui said, her tone sharp. "She's good at keeping secrets, but she's been rattled lately. If I push hard enough, she might let something slip."
"Be careful," Momo warned. "This isn't just about family secrets anymore. This could be dangerous."
Yui smirked faintly. "When is it not?"
"And what about you?" Ochako asked, her voice tinged with concern.
Momo's expression hardened. "I'm going to snoop through my father's files. He's away on a business trip and won't be back until tomorrow. This is my best chance to find out what he's been hiding."
The room fell silent, each of them processing the gravity of their respective tasks. Finally, Momo took a deep breath and looked at her friends. "We do this carefully, and we do this together. No matter what we find, we'll face it as a team."
A Divided Family
The Yaoyorozu estate stood like a monolith under the moonlight, its towering gates and meticulously pruned gardens exuding the wealth and power that had defined the family for generations. Within its grand halls, an intricate web of secrets was beginning to unravel.
Momo sat alone in her room, her thoughts heavy with the revelations of the past few days. The events at the arcade and the graveyard had shaken her to the core. Inko Midoriya. Izuku Midoriya. Names that had been nothing more than whispers in the dark were now taking on a haunting clarity. And the more she dug, the more she realized her family might be tied to their story in ways she couldn't yet understand.
She reached for the delicate necklace hanging around her neck—a trinity of interwoven symbols that represented creation, modification, and destruction. The family crest. The symbol of their faith. Her fingers brushed against it absently as her mind wandered. The Trinity religion wasn't just a belief system; it was a doctrine that governed their family's every decision. The prophecy, the power, the duty—it all weighed heavily on her shoulders.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Come in," she said softly, her voice betraying her exhaustion.
The door creaked open, and Akiko Ueda stepped inside. The older woman's presence brought a sense of comfort that Momo hadn't realized she needed. Akiko had been more than a maid; she had been a second mother. Yuna Yaoyorozu, Momo's actual mother, had always been preoccupied with her work, often traveling abroad for weeks or months at a time. In her absence, it was Akiko who had bandaged scraped knees, read bedtime stories, and offered words of encouragement when Momo felt the weight of expectations pressing down on her.
"Akiko," Momo said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "What brings you here so late?"
Akiko hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching Momo's face. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation earlier," she said finally, her voice low and deliberate. "About Inko Midoriya."
Momo's heart skipped a beat. She hadn't expected anyone to be listening, let alone Akiko. "You… you heard that?"
Akiko nodded, stepping further into the room and closing the door behind her. "I think it's time you knew the truth."
A Surrogate Mother
Akiko sat across from Momo at the small table near the window. The moonlight bathed the room in a soft glow, casting long shadows that seemed to flicker with the weight of their conversation.
"You know I've been with this family for a long time," Akiko began, her voice steady but tinged with something that felt like regret. "Long before you were born. I've seen things, Momo-sama. Things that most people wouldn't believe. Your father… he's not the man he seems to be."
Momo leaned forward, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "What do you mean?"
Akiko took a deep breath, her gaze distant. "I knew Inko Midoriya. She worked for your father. She was one of his most loyal employees, a brilliant mind with a heart of gold. But she was also… fragile."
"Fragile?" Momo echoed, her brow furrowing.
Akiko nodded. "She was passionate, driven, and deeply empathetic. But she had her struggles. She cared too much, trusted too easily. And your father… he used that against her."
Momo's chest tightened. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that your father and Inko were involved," Akiko said bluntly. "Before you were born, they had an affair."
Momo's world tilted on its axis. "An affair?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Yes," Akiko confirmed. "It wasn't public, of course. They were careful to keep it hidden. But I saw them together once, here in this very house. They were… intimate."
The words hit Momo like a blow. Her father, the stoic and calculating patriarch, was not a man she associated with vulnerability or emotion. The idea that he had been involved in an affair was almost impossible to comprehend.
"But what does this have to do with—"
"Inko's downfall wasn't natural," Akiko interrupted, her tone sharpening. "The reports about her psychosis and violent behavior—they were fabricated. Your father orchestrated the entire thing to protect himself."
Momo's breath caught in her throat. "Why? Why would he do that?"
"Because she became a liability," Akiko said simply. "She knew too much. About the family, about his dealings. And when she started asking questions, he silenced her. She lost her job, her reputation, everything."
"And then she died," Momo murmured, her mind racing.
Akiko's expression darkened. "Yes. Two years after she was dismissed. I don't know the details of her death, but I wouldn't be surprised if your father had a hand in it."
Momo's hands trembled as she processed the information. The weight of her family's legacy, their power, their secrets—it was suffocating.
"Why are you telling me this now?" she asked, her voice shaking.
"Because I see the kind of person you are, Momo-sama," Akiko said, her tone softening. "You're not like your father. You have a good heart. And if anyone can uncover the truth and set things right, it's you."
A Dangerous Listener
Unbeknownst to them, another presence lingered just outside the door. Sayuri Tanaka, a younger maid with an angular face and sharp gray eyes, stood in the hallway, her ear pressed against the wood. Her lips curled into a sly smile as she absorbed every word of their conversation.
Sayuri had always resented Akiko's position in the household. The older maid's bond with Momo, her unwavering loyalty to the Yaoyorozu family—it all grated on Sayuri's nerves. She had spent years vying for Hisashi's favor, eager to prove her worth and secure her place in the family's inner circle.
Now, she finally had her chance.
As Akiko and Momo's voices faded, Sayuri slipped away, her steps silent and deliberate. Her mind raced with possibilities. Reporting this conversation to Hisashi could not only win her favor but also eliminate Akiko as a rival.
She smiled to herself, her heart pounding with anticipation. By the time Hisashi returned, she would have everything she needed to secure her position.
The Weight of the Trinity
That night, Momo lay awake in her bed, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The necklace around her neck felt heavier than ever, its three interwoven symbols pressing against her skin like a brand. Creation. Modification. Destruction. The trinity that defined their family, their faith, their prophecy.
Her father's words echoed in her mind, the teachings he had drilled into her from a young age: "The strong survive, and the weak perish. We create, alter, and destroy to achieve our goals."
She thought about the prophecy Akiko had mentioned, about the three pure holders of the trinity. Creation, modification, and destruction, all manifesting in a single generation. Was it true? Was she destined to fulfill some ancient prophecy? And what about Yui? What role did she play in all of this?
Her thoughts turned to Inko and Izuku. If her father had truly wronged them, if his actions had left a trail of destruction, she couldn't stand by and do nothing. But where did she even begin?
Momo clenched her fists, her resolve hardening. She didn't have all the answers, but she knew one thing for certain: she wouldn't let her family's legacy define her. She would uncover the truth, no matter the cost.
Little did she know, the shadows of the past were closing in, and the web of lies surrounding the Yaoyorozu family was far more intricate than she could have imagined.
Ochako's Interview: The Truth About Izuku Midoriya
The small café near Aldera High was dimly lit, its ambiance quiet and unassuming—perfect for a discreet conversation. Ochako sat across from Mr. Akimoto, a retired teacher from Aldera High, who had agreed to speak with her. His thinning gray hair and tired eyes carried the weight of years spent in the classroom, and his expression turned grave as Ochako introduced herself and explained her purpose.
"I want to know about Izuku Midoriya," she said softly, pen poised over her notebook.
Akimoto's lips pressed into a thin line. "You're brave, young lady, poking around where most wouldn't dare. Izuku Midoriya isn't a name people mention lightly around here."
Ochako tilted her head. "Why not? Was he dangerous?"
Akimoto sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. "Dangerous? Not at first. Izuku was… complex. A troubled child, to say the least. But it wasn't his fault—not entirely, anyway."
The Genius Without a Quirk
Akimoto stared out the window, his voice tinged with both nostalgia and regret. "Izuku was different from the start. A genius. He could solve equations and puzzles in seconds, things that would leave most adults scratching their heads. Some thought he had an intelligence quirk, but we all knew the truth—he was quirkless."
Ochako frowned. "Why would people assume he had a quirk just because he was intelligent?"
"Because in our society," Akimoto said bitterly, "being quirkless is synonymous with being lesser. If someone excelled, they had to have a quirk. It was the only explanation people were willing to accept."
He shook his head. "Izuku wanted to be a hero, but without a quirk? That dream painted a target on his back. The students bullied him mercilessly, and even some of the teachers looked down on him. Helping him was a death sentence socially. Anyone caught standing up for him faced ridicule or worse."
Ochako's grip on her pen tightened. "That's horrible."
"It's the world we live in," Akimoto replied grimly. "The quirkless are seen as relics of the past—a disease. People feared him, worried his 'taint,' as they called it, might drag down our evolution. He was treated like a chimp in a room full of humans."
The words felt like a punch to Ochako's stomach. "And you? Did you help him?"
Akimoto's gaze dropped to the table. "I should have. I regret every day that I didn't. But at Aldera, you learned quickly that the system was against you if you sided with people like Izuku."
The Turning Point
"When Izuku's mother died, that's when everything changed," Akimoto continued, his tone lowering. "Her death broke him. Something inside him… snapped."
"What happened to her?" Ochako asked gently.
"Heart attack," Akimoto said. "At least, that's what the reports said. But she'd been under so much stress—losing her job, raising Izuku alone, dealing with society's disdain. It's no wonder her health gave out."
Ochako's chest tightened. "What did Izuku do after that?"
"He became a different person," Akimoto said. "Violent, but not in the way you'd expect. He wasn't lashing out physically—no, he was too smart for that. He started fighting back with cunning. Students who bullied him found themselves framed for crimes they didn't commit. Accidents started happening—fatal ones. And while nothing could ever be proven, everyone knew not to cross Izuku Midoriya."
Ochako's pen hovered over her notebook. "He was… dangerous."
"He was at war," Akimoto corrected, his eyes hardening. "At war with society itself. He hated everything—the hierarchy, the discrimination, the way the world crushed people like him under its heel. And the scariest part was that he was good at it. Too good."
A Rift Between Friends
"What about Katsuki Bakugo?" Ochako asked, her voice hesitant. "I heard they knew each other."
Akimoto's expression softened slightly. "Katsuki and Izuku were best friends once. Izuku was like an older brother to him—they were inseparable when they were younger. But that changed the day Katsuki's quirk awakened."
"How so?" Ochako asked.
"Bakugo started seeing the world differently," Akimoto explained. "He began to internalize the same hierarchy that crushed Izuku. Suddenly, his best friend was beneath him—a quirkless nobody. He started to turn on Izuku, pushing him away, looking down on him."
Ochako frowned. "That doesn't sound like Bakugo now."
"It wasn't permanent," Akimoto said. "Something happened between them—something big. I don't know the details, but Katsuki started avoiding Izuku like the plague after that. It was as if he was terrified of him."
Ochako leaned forward. "Do you think Izuku hurt him?"
"I don't know," Akimoto admitted. "But whatever it was, it shook Katsuki to his core. He never spoke about it, but the fear in his eyes whenever Izuku's name was mentioned… it was undeniable."
The Disappearance
"What happened to Izuku?" Ochako asked. "After everything?"
Akimoto's shoulders slumped. "He vanished. One day, he just disappeared from the foster system. No trace, no leads. Some people think he finally gave up and ended his life. Others believe he was kidnapped by purist groups—those who wanted to eradicate quirkless individuals entirely."
"And you?" Ochako pressed.
"I think Izuku Midoriya is still out there," Akimoto said quietly. "Waiting. Watching. Planning. He was too smart to just disappear without a reason."
The weight of his words settled over Ochako like a heavy blanket. She thanked Akimoto for his time and left the café, her mind racing with everything she had learned.
Reflections
As she walked back to the dorms, Ochako couldn't shake the image of a young boy, brilliant but broken, fighting a world that had rejected him. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place, and while they painted a tragic picture, they also hinted at something darker—something far more dangerous.
Whoever Izuku Midoriya had become, one thing was clear: he was no longer the boy who dreamed of being a hero.
A Golden Silence
The Yaoyorozu estate's hallways were eerily quiet, the distant ticking of a grandfather clock the only sound breaking the stillness. Akiko walked briskly toward Hisashi's private quarters, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. A summons to Hisashi was never casual, never without weight. Something about his message had unsettled her, but she tried to calm herself. Perhaps it was a misunderstanding, a minor issue she could resolve quickly.
She knocked lightly on the ornate double doors.
"Enter," came Hisashi's smooth, commanding voice.
The room was bathed in the warm glow of chandelier light, casting soft reflections off the countless golden statues lining the walls. Each was masterfully crafted, the details so precise they seemed almost alive. Their expressions ranged from serene to anguished, and Akiko felt their hollow gazes follow her as she stepped inside.
Hisashi Yaoyorozu sat behind a massive mahogany desk, his demeanor as unyielding as the metal he manipulated with his quirk. His sharp suit and pristine appearance made him look every bit the powerful patriarch of the family, yet his calm exterior only served to heighten the tension in the room.
"You summoned me, Yaoyorozu-sama?" Akiko asked, her voice steady despite the growing unease in her chest.
Hisashi leaned back in his chair, his piercing gaze locking onto her. "Yes, Akiko. Please, have a seat."
She hesitated but obeyed, lowering herself into the chair across from him. Hisashi steepled his fingers, studying her with a look that made her feel like prey under a predator's scrutiny.
"I've recently discovered an issue," he began, his tone deceptively gentle. "Someone has been stealing from my safe."
Akiko blinked, taken aback. "Stealing? I—"
He raised a hand, silencing her. "Let me finish."
Her mouth snapped shut, and she nodded.
"This safe," he continued, his voice like silk laced with steel, "is not just any safe. It contains items of great importance to this family. Items that must remain secure at all costs. And yet, someone—someone with access—has seen fit to violate that security."
Akiko's heart pounded. "Yaoyorozu-sama, I swear, I would never—"
"All I'm hearing is talk," Hisashi interrupted, his gaze narrowing. "You like to talk, don't you, Akiko?"
Something shifted in the air, a palpable tension that made Akiko's skin crawl. The way he said her name—it was no longer a name but a sentence, a weight he intended to press upon her.
Her mind raced, trying to piece together the purpose of this meeting. Then, like a lightning strike, it hit her. He knows. Somehow, he knows about my conversation with Momo. Her blood ran cold.
Hisashi rose from his chair, his movements deliberate and graceful. He walked toward one of the golden statues lining the room, his fingers lightly tracing its surface.
"Do you admire them?" he asked, his voice almost conversational. "The statues?"
Akiko swallowed hard, her throat dry. "They're… beautiful, Yaoyorozu-sama."
"Yes," he said with a faint smile. "Life-like, wouldn't you agree? So elegant, so perfect. I care deeply for my employees, Akiko. And whenever I have to let one go, I ensure they're remembered. Immortalized, even."
Her breath hitched. She could feel the blood draining from her face as the implications of his words settled over her like a suffocating fog.
Hisashi turned to face her fully now, his smile widening ever so slightly. "A new statue is about to be added to my collection."
Akiko's body froze. "W-what do you mean?"
"I really did like you," he said softly, almost wistfully. "But loyalty is everything, Akiko. Without it, there can be no trust. And without trust…"
He stepped closer, his hands glowing faintly with a golden sheen.
"Please," Akiko whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't do anything. I swear—"
"Shh," Hisashi murmured, placing a hand on her shoulder. "This won't take long."
The transformation began instantly. Gold spread from where his hand rested, creeping over her skin like a liquid plague. Akiko's breaths came in short, panicked gasps as she felt the metal harden her limbs, immobilizing her. Tears welled in her eyes, and she tried to plead, but her voice was choked by the weight of her encroaching fate.
Hisashi watched impassively as the gold consumed her, inch by inch. Within moments, she was frozen in place, her expression locked in one of shock and terror.
"Exquisite," he muttered, stepping back to admire his work.
The Pet's Reward
Hisashi pressed a button on his desk, summoning Sayuri Tanaka. Within moments, the younger maid entered the room, her sharp gray eyes glinting with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation.
"You called for me, Yaoyorozu-sama?" she asked, bowing respectfully.
"Yes, Sayuri," he said, gesturing toward the golden statue. "Our dear Akiko has been relieved of her duties. I'd like you to place her in the garden. Somewhere prominent. She deserves to be remembered."
Sayuri's lips curved into a sly smile. "Of course, Yaoyorozu-sama. It will be done."
She approached the statue, her movements efficient and deliberate. As she began to wheel it toward the door, Hisashi stepped forward and placed a hand under her chin, tilting her face upward to meet his gaze.
"You've done well, Sayuri," he said, his tone dripping with approval. "Your loyalty will not be forgotten."
Her cheeks flushed, and she leaned into his touch, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you, Yaoyorozu-sama."
He bent down and placed a brief, calculated kiss on her lips—a reward, nothing more. When he pulled away, his expression was as composed as ever.
"Go," he instructed. "And remember: failure is not an option."
Sayuri nodded, her heart pounding as she turned to complete her task. As she wheeled the statue away, she couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction. Akiko was gone, and her place in Hisashi's favor was secured.
A Warning in Gold
Back in her quarters, Sayuri carefully placed the Akiko statue in the garden, arranging it among the others with precision. The moonlight glinted off the golden surface, casting an eerie glow that made the statues seem almost alive.
Sayuri stepped back, admiring her work. Akiko's frozen expression seemed to scream silently, a haunting reminder of what happened to those who crossed Hisashi Yaoyorozu.
As she walked away, the weight of her own loyalty settled over her. Hisashi was not a man to be crossed. And she would do whatever it took to stay in his good graces.
Reflections
Later that night, Hisashi stood alone in his study, gazing out the window at the garden below. The golden statues shimmered under the pale light, their expressions a testament to his power and control.
He reached for a glass of wine, his mind already turning to the next phase of his plans. The prophecy, the Trinity, the future of the Yaoyorozu bloodline—it was all within his grasp. And he would crush anyone who dared stand in his way.
"Balance," he muttered to himself, sipping the wine. "Balance must be maintained. At any cost."