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.

7. Declaration of War

"—recovery efforts continue late into the night after a planted bomb collapsed an office building downtown—"

"—citizen fear has risen nearly one hundred percent in the last month alone. What are Musutafu police planning to do with an influx of calls—"

"I saw the car chase from the very beginning! It was two blacked out SUV's being trailed by like an ice blue Mazda. They were weaving like crazy through the lunch rush in Downtown! I'm surprised they didn't hit anybody. Then this cop shows up out of nowhere and open fired—"

"—are Musutafu police becoming rampaging tyrants by openly discharging their weapons during car chases? What we know now is the offending criminals were armed with Molotov cocktails, but does it justify breaking police protocol—"

"The biggest questions we need to ask are these; who are the Shigaraki gang and what do they want with Musutafu? No official word from the Uraraka Yakuza at this time—"

Ochaco shut the TV off. It'd been going on for two days now. Every channel. Every hour. The casualties had reached three dozen with numerous more injuries. While the pyromaniac chased her down more members of Shigaraki had planted a bomb as a distraction, blowing a thankfully mostly empty building up. Casualties are casualties. At the end of the day people still died due to her carelessness and lack of action. Blood stained both hands. Fingers pressed against the tops of her eyes firmly, praying this was all just a nightmare. The city had enforced a lockdown at night to reassure citizens they were safe. But many were angry. Crimes had skyrocketed to the point where there were at least a few dozen a night now, ranging from assaults to property damage, thefts, grand theft auto, bank robberies. It was never ending.

The brunette closed her eyes a little harder as the thoughts became more intrusive. Her father would know what to do if he were here. The buyout process had been delayed again thanks to city officials wanting to change the zoning for the warehouse. That meant more hoops to jump through, hefty stacks of paperwork, and countless more hours of work. Her parents did their best to reassure her but even the phone calls were dropping in frequency. She'd be lucky to hear from them once every other week now. An exhausted sigh slipped out.

"You've stopped eating again,"

Ochaco cracked an eye between splayed fingers to see Aizawa standing there, hands shoved deep into his pockets like usual with a neutral expression. Instead of the usual suit or detective uniform he was dressed up in all black with the scarf wrapped loosely over his shoulders. It was almost time. She merely re-covered both eyes. "I'm not hungry."

"Ochaco," Shota started firmly as he took a few steps forward to sit on the edge of the desk. Despite paperwork and office supplies moving around, Ochaco didn't bother looking at him. "You can't keep this up. Your health is the most important thing right now, so I need you to at least try and eat something. What happened wasn't your fault—"

"Their blood is on my hands," Ochaco interrupted sharply, slamming her hands against the wood desk. It resounded loudly in the empty office. Her chest heaved with effort while she kept her gaze anywhere but on him. "I'm responsible for the death of those people because I ran away instead of standing and fighting for my home! For the citizens I'm supposed to protect! Crime has spiraled out of control and the police can't even keep up. How many hours of sleep do you get a night, if any? You're always gone at the police station or dealing with Uraraka business. Everyone is getting worn down, including those patrolling at night despite constant rotations. We can't keep going like this."

"That's the price to pay for protecting the city. Sacrifices have to be made. It's not an easy or glamorous life, Ochaco. Your father went through the exact same thing; when you were just a child a rivalling gang challenged him for the property rights of Musutafu. Skirmishes increased, crime got out of control, people became scared to go out past sundown. Kenji tried negotiating at first, to find a compromise instead of violence. When that failed he did what he had to; fought to defend his city. There was blood draining through the rivers and into the sea for days on end. At least a hundred dead, countless injured, all for the sake of protecting Musutafu. Your home. Conflict is unavoidable when it comes to standing up to protect what you love."

"Does it always have to end in conflict?" Ochaco asked so softly it barely registered above a whisper. Shota looked over. Tears overflowed onto the desk, plopping silently against a scattering of documents.

"That's up to you; do you want to continue the cycle of violence for generations to come, or are you willing to put an end to it? The choice is yours, Ochaco. You'll be the deciding factor in this war. Just know your family is behind you always even if we're not physically by your side." Shota stood, walked around the desk, and crouched beside her. Ever so gently he cupped her face, turning her attention to him. "Listen to me. If you want to change the way the Yakuza works then do it. No one's pressuring you to continue on the violent ways, we understand the heavy burden on your shoulders. Your parents will understand. I understand. The turn of the century is like a new sprout; guide it to how you see fit."

"I…I can't do this…" Ochaco hiccupped.

"You can. There's a reason you were born, Ochaco, a reason why the tides have already begun shifting for the future. You were the one destined to break the old ways of Yakuza. Being afraid and reluctant to retaliate are natural; it makes you more than just a name or lineage. It means you have a heart and compassion for others." Shota carefully grasped both wrists then lowered them as she tried to cover her face. A habit of hers whenever she cried; making sure no one else saw the weakness. She still tried to hide her face as the tears raged on. "I'm going to be honest with you….you're not the only one afraid."

"You're never afraid of anything…" Ochaco sniffled, briefly glancing up. Aizawa gave a small, guilty half-smile that had her doing a double take. "…I never knew…I always thought you were invincible, unafraid of anything."

"Everyone becomes afraid at some point in their life. There are only a few things I truly fear; Hizashi when he plays his hitlist on full blast, the world running out of coffee, and…losing those close to me. Including you. There are times I can't sleep because I worry over you, Kenji, Fumi, members of the clan. I fear my friends getting killed most days. I've lost a handful throughout my years on this earth, and they could've been prevented if only I'd been resolute in my choices. Learning from your mistakes prevents the future from repeating itself. My carelessness caused the life of my best friend because I let my guard down."

"I'm sorry," The brunette breathed, teary eyes widening at the vulnerability of her protector. Shota merely shrugged with a small head shake. "Do you…do you ever wish you could go back to fix your mistakes?"

"In the beginning, yes. As you grow older though you learn that you can't change what's already been done. My friend died that day and what I got from that experience is to never let my guard down in dangerous situations. I've brought that life lesson into the Uraraka clan, utilizing it daily. When it seems I'm relaxed or not paying attention, I'm tracking my surroundings simultaneously. It was a hard lesson to learn but valuable to me now."

"Do you think we can win this war?" The heiress asked quietly as the roiling emotions quieted back down. Her mentor let out a huff, resting his arms over his knees. It took him merely a moment to think it over but then he finally answered with a confident smile.

"I already know we can under your leadership, Ochaco."

Ochaco gave a watery smile as he stood, finally allowing herself to wipe the tears away. For the past two nights she'd gone over her failures relentlessly, tossing and turning in bed trying to calculate a better way. It would always haunt the heiress, the first mass spilling of blood under her watch, yet it would become a painful reminder of how she could do better. Time would heal the wound. What she needed to do now was go out there and meet Shigaraki head-on under public eye. First, though, there was a meeting with the police station crew that needed to occur. The first step in taking down the ruthless gang.

"I'm sorry for being such a pain in the ass, Shota. I've put you through a lot all these years, huh?"

Shota stood a few feet away, checking his phone for any new messages. A snort slipped between his lips, gradually increasing into a muffled laugh. Ochaco stared quizzically as he tried to cover up the noise via hand. As soon as she stood up he burst out laughing. Full on hand to his side laughing. Never before had she seen him lose composure in a way and it honestly left her dumbfounded, maybe a little scared. Had she triggered a nervous breakdown bringing up old memories? Yet nearly as soon as it started he stopped, shaking his head with a sharp cough. "A-are you okay?"

"Who do you think taught you to be a pain in the ass? That was intentional." Shota chuckled with a proud grin at the baffled heiress. With a lazy wave he headed for the door, still highly amused. "I'll meet you in the main hall when you're ready. Don't take too long or else you'll be a bigger pain in my ass."

"Thank you, Shota. For everything." Ochaco whispered as the office doors lightly clicked shut.

The warehouse was dimly lit with only a few high up lights remaining functioning after years of desolation. It took five flashlights just for a clear view of their surroundings. With the moon entering the waning crescent phase, the heavens above failed to provide support in the heavy darkness. Izuku pulled his jacket a little tighter as a howling wind slipped through the shattered windows. He wasn't expecting an abandoned warehouse as the meeting place with the Uraraka Yakuza, though it made sense with its isolated location and treacherous path. It made it harder for wanderers to just stumble upon the area. On the way up Sergeant Aizawa had gone over the plan once more to be sure, emphasizing the no weapons policy.

Though Izuku still had heavy doubts about the Uraraka side abiding by their own policy. Shigaraki attempted to flambé the heiress in broad daylight; they weren't going anywhere without weapons. Trusting Aizawa on this matter was one thing but protecting himself after what just happened was another. The pistol concealed beneath his pantleg said otherwise. A physical search would probably happen then they'd all be outed as traitors. But a gut feeling was telling him everything would be alright this time.

"Where the fuck are they? It's cold as shit," Bakugo ground through his teeth, flashing the light every which way to check for hidden guards. Katsuki Bakugo, demolitions expert who hated being cold. Izuku sometimes wondered if being on fire would cure the hated low temperatures. "Sergeant Aizawa, do you expect us to wait around here all night waiting for a Yakuza to show? They're already ten minutes late."

"Impudent of you, Katsuki Bakugo. You're the one who's late and wasting my valuable time." A feminine voice replied cooly. Everyone became on guard as shadows shifted into the beams of the flashlights. They were surrounded and outnumbered. "Toss your weapons onto the floor. Don't try anything funny or this is going to end badly."

"Hah? Now why would we do that? We agreed to the terms and you want us to out ourselves as liars? Means you're armed to the teeth right now, aren't you?" The blonde retorted back as the men swiftly moved in. A concealed blade would take out the nearest one, using him as a meat shield when it came down to it. "You've broken your side of the agreement already; that little stunt two days ago with the Shigaraki gang means you aren't going anywhere empty handed. I'll show mine if you show yours."

"Bakugo, I warned you not to bring a gun," Aizawa snapped lowly at the demolition expert. "We just had a fucking conversation about this on the way up here! Drop your god damned weapons!"

"Them first!"

"W-wait!" Ojiro stepped forward with hands up to appease the growing tension. "We don't mean any harm, honestly. With everything going on right now it's best for us to have a means of self-defense. Shigaraki is rampaging through the city, taking lives and destroying what lies in their path. We're here to collaborate in order to take them down. Can we please oversee this issue for one night?"

"Ojiro…" Izuku breathed lowly, eyes tracking every step he took away from their knit circle. Seeing as how he was with Ochaco for months it made sense to be less afraid to approach with appeasement. Aizawa kept a close eye on Bakugo as the air stilled. Todoroki remained impassive with both hands up at head level, eyes scanning the shadows.

The sound of heels clicking across the floor had chills running up Izuku's spine. Just like the hospital. The detective swallowed hard, attempting to remain calm. Despite the close distance a few days ago he hadn't seen or spoken to the heiress in weeks. They weren't supposed to meet again, at least not like this. But knowing Aizawa's double life maybe he planned it that way. A way to mend the broken relationship. A loud buzzing took over the silence as all of the lights sparked to life. The group shielded their eyes once four large spotlights illuminated them clearly. Spots floated behind his squeezed eyelids.

"Shota Aizawa, Izuku Midoriya, Mashirao Ojiro, Katsuki Bakugo, and Shoto Todoroki. So, you were the five brave souls sent to deal with the big, bad Yakuza. Aren't you the lucky ones." Ochaco hummed while scanning over the slightly blinded men. Aizawa caught her attention with a nod, encouraging her to keep it up. Showing weakness in front of the officers could be her downfall. It almost felt like a theatrical play. "Last I checked, it was respectful to bow before a high-ranking Yakuza. On your knees. Now."

"Do what she says," Shota hissed at them, dropping to his knees into a dogeza. Izuku and Ojiro nearly face-planted into the dirty floor as Bakugo and Todoroki were slower to proceed. They didn't seem to be intimidated by the young woman, surely not understanding who they were dealing with.

Ochaco noticed the extra resistance in the blondes movement and shifted over to him. She could feel Izuku and Ojiro glancing up at her but paid them no heed, instead stopping before Bakugo. A moment of contemplation as he gave a half-assed dogeza pose. Apparently he needed some help getting closer to the ground. A foot pressed down hard into his back and forced his face against the concrete, twisting the thin heel against his spine. The anger radiating from his form was nearly palpable.

"I think your boss over there told you to do what I say. Now, bow properly, Katsuki Bakugo. Unless, of course, you want to continue to be defiant. In that case," Ochaco raised a hand in signal. The sound of at least two dozen pistols cocking resounded in response. After a moment of struggling he gave in, correcting his posture with forehead planted against the back of his hands. "Good boy. Was that so hard?"

"…no, ma'am." Katsuki forcefully spit out.

She removed her foot and stepped back. Of the group she knew Aizawa, Izuku, and Ojiro would heed her requests. Bakugo resisted authority while Todoroki seemed to quietly accept it with stiff movements. Ochaco slowly walked between them, hands clasped behind her back while surveying the now hostages. Well, in their minds they were hostages. At this point she was just keeping them on their toes to drive home the situation. Making her way around the prostrated men, the brunette stopped beside Izuku. His shoulders stiffened and he kept his head down, eyes pinching shut to prevent accidentally looking at her. Ironic how they kept running into each other after their talk in the hospital. Was he too afraid to look at her?

Then there was Ojiro. The one she cut loose in order to protect him from the war. Kirishima was supposed to be the one here, not him. Did Aizawa plan that? She hadn't been made aware of any changes to the meeting. Nevertheless, the show must go on. "Tie this one up, use him as an example for the others."

Men swooped in faster than Izuku could process and suddenly he was being dragged towards a warped metal chair, thrown onto it, and handcuffed tightly to the back. A hefty chain had been dragged over from its anchor point in the wall and wrapped around the detective's chest multiple times, ensuring he couldn't move an inch. Steel anklets clamped him against the chair snugly, barely grazing the muzzle of the concealed weapon. Ochaco watched impassively, noting the hardening look in his eyes. There it was, that hatred for the Uraraka clan and herself. Once such a hatred took root it never left.

"So," Ochaco started with an exaggerated drawl while heading towards the chair one of her men pulled out. She took her time sitting against the cushiony furniture, flinging her legs over the arm and crossing them. An elbow resting against the other arm supported her head while addressing the group. A snap of her fingers had Izuku dragged closer to her right side, the metal sparking against the concrete floors. He avoided her gaze at all costs, choosing to drop his head. "You want a deal with the Uraraka clan in order to take down Shigaraki, correct?"

"That's the idea, ma'am." Shota replied stonily, rising to a sitting position. The grin twitching at the corner of her mouth caught his eye. She was enjoying this too much, he thought with a grimace. "The U.A. Special Police Force is requesting a temporary alliance with the Uraraka clan in order to take down the Shigaraki clan infiltrating Musutafu. This would only be a temporary alliance until the infiltrating gang is taken out of the picture."

"I see. What's in it for us? Surely you didn't come here thinking we'd do this for free." Ochaco replied nonchalantly, going so far as to examine the back of her nails. Oof, her nails were starting to look a bit rough. All that stress chewing made them look like mutated pieces of paint chips. They quickly became hidden against her palms.

"We've received the stipulations of this contractual agreement and are fully prepared to fulfill your requirements."

"Hm. Tell me, Shoto Todoroki; what purpose does the son of Ejiro Todoroki have with the Musutafu Special Police Force? Were you called in at the request of U.A.?" Ochaco turned her attention from her mentor over to the well-known negotiator. The oddity of his hair really threw her off yet as he sat up to address her, the strangeness continued with two different colored eyes.

"Yes, ma'am. I was sent a request on behalf of U.A. Special Police Force to participate in a joint operation against the Shigaraki gang. My purpose for returning to Musutafu is to protect the city and my friends. The skills I possess were required due to the delicate proceedings currently occurring in this room. I will be acting as the mediator between the Uraraka Yakuza and U.A. police, ma'am." Shoto answered autonomously. Like a robot, Ochaco thought.

"Katsuki Bakugo, what is your purpose for being here."

"My aid was requested by U.A. Special Police Force in order to provide explosives expertise and to disarm any potential threats to the city. Ma'am." Bakugo added quickly as he noticed the nasty look given by Sergeant Aizawa. Manners, Katsuki, then you can blow their fucking faces up later.

"Typical rehearsed answers," Ochaco sighed while looking over at Izuku, noting his leg twitching out of nerves. Did she make him that nervous? Funny. Same thing happened when she placed the watch on his wrist. Speaking of… "The paperwork checks out on your end. The Uraraka clan will fully cooperate with the U.A. Special Police Force as long as you're willing to abide by each condition. No shortcuts, no modifying, and no double-crossing. If we sense there's any hint of being stabbed in the back, Izuku Midoriya will be executed on sight."

"Wait, no—!" Ojiro exclaimed in sync with Izuku's shocked response.

"What?!"

"Let's try to be reasonable here…" Aizawa replied with hands up. What the hell was she doing? This wasn't discussed. Ochaco now ignored him completely while looking at Ojiro. Was she getting too far into the role of an intimidating Yakuza leader?

"You heard me. Unless you'd like to join him, Mashirao Ojiro. Though I'm sure Toru Hagakure would have some complaints about that. That stipulation was added in the last drafting of the contract; if we're double-crossed then a chosen target gets eliminated. Loose ends and all that. It should reinforce the severity of crossing the Uraraka Yakuza. Are we understood?" Ochaco switched to a menacing tone while swinging her legs back to the ground. A few swipes at the black suit pants then they were clean.

"Yes, ma'am."

The heiress smiled. Good. They needed to know she wasn't messing around with the binding contract. Pushing to her feet Ochaco swiveled around the chained Izuku, trailing a hand over his arm, up his shoulder, and to the dark green tendrils. She nearly lost focus at the softness of his hair before latching onto a handful and yanking his head up. "Izuku Midoriya. State your business for being here."

"Yes, ma'am. My extensive experience as a detective within the U.A. Special Police Force places me at the frontline of Yakuza activity within Musutafu. My job is to respond to homicides, gang skirmishes, and any activity suspected of being Yakuza related. The purpose of my business today is to assist Sergeant Aizawa with the unification of the U.A. Special Police Force and the Uraraka Yakuza, ma'am."

"You should've stayed away, Izuku," Ochaco whispered against the shell of his ear, keeping narrowed auburn locked on Ojiro who remained on edge and ready to shoot forward. There was such a desire for him to help that it shone brightly in his expression, pure desperation. "The drive and tenacity you contain excels you in your field of work yet ends you up right at my feet. Epistemic curiosity. Ideal for the everyday working man, just not for a Yakuza detective yearning for justice and revenge. You want to understand how we operate, what we control, how far our reach extends. What our plans for the future are. Do you truly wish to crumble my family?"

"Your family killed my father," Izuku lowly shot back, unable to hide the venom he truly felt. What Ojiro warned him about…now he saw why his friend panicked. Ochaco was slipping further into the harsh ways of the Yakuza. "And now you've gotten my mother involved, Miss Haniko. What's going to happen when Shigaraki tries to go after her to get to me? You've now endangered more people because you're a power hungry tyrant."

"Tyrant?" Ochaco parroted, taken aback at the term. While Yakuza families were known for being controlling and ruthless, it didn't exactly make them tyrants. Some of her predecessors could fall under the category, yes, but her father had strived for decades to change their ways. Now they supported local businesses and families to ensure their survival. Her blood began to simmer. "Do you honestly believe that I'm a tyrant? After all of the information you've forced out of Ojiro? All of your snooping since that day in the alley? What he said has to be a lie, right? He was making it up just for you to be lured into the trap like a gullible fool. And it worked. You're nothing but naïve, Izuku Midoriya. You know nothing of our ways."

"Maybe I don't understand how your world works, just like you mentioned under your pseudonym. All I need to know is that your family has caused enough suffering throughout the years and should be brought to justice once and for all. You can't keep skating under the radar, dodging jailtime, bribing government officials to keep secrets under wraps. Your family will pay; that I'll make sure of personally."

The two stared one another down in a battle of wills. Ochaco remained steadfast, Izuku hardening his glare. Tensions skyrocketed as the remaining group shifted uneasily. Aizawa glanced at the nearest guard, darting his eyes back and forth to indicate things were getting out of hand. The man merely rescinded into the shadows. Moments later he appeared by Ochaco, whispering behind a hand against her ear. She didn't break her gaze but tilted her chin up slightly.

"Unless there's anything else you'd like to offer, I believe this meeting is complete. We'll be in touch." Ochaco said while pulling back, never breaking eye contact. Izuku was a stubborn one that's for sure. He refused to back down. "I'm going to hold onto this one for a while since he seems to hold such a personal grudge against the Uraraka clan. I need to know what information he holds."

"Ma'am, with all due respect, we don't wish to take any more for your time tonight. Please allow Midoriya to return with us this evening." Ojiro began pleading, shifting to a stand. The guards locked onto him but the martial artist wouldn't back down. Ochaco finally broke the eye contact to look over at him. But he wasn't looking at her; his gaze was averted down and to the side, aimed at Izuku. He was trying to communicate. Auburn narrowed. What was Ojiro trying to get at Izuku?

"Why don't you just go back to your secretary duties and let us leave," Bakugo chimed in with obvious annoyance. Izuku quickly shook his head at the explosives expert, silently warning him not to egg her on. He was going to get them all killed! Ochaco notched a brow at the remark and allowed her hand to slip from the soft tendrils. "You got what you want; the deals complete and you can have that damned nerd for all I care. The rest of us don't have a reason to remain. We'll be taking our leave to go protect the city while you're playing interrogator."

"Will you? Who decided you could do such a thing, Katsuki Bakugo?" Ochaco naturally switched to a harsher, cold tone while stepping towards him. He was defiant, just like Izuku. Eyes locked on, posture confident, cocky grin on his face. He didn't know who he was messing with. "Last I checked, I'm the one in charge right now. You already violated the no weapons policy we had, a dealbreaker as I'm sure Sergeant Aizawa mentioned. Are you really stupid enough to continue this tirade of yours? I could execute every last one of your friends here, letting their blood trail across the concrete and soak into your clothes. Staining your skin. Leaving a reminder that your actions caused their deaths. How about I go after your parents? Mitsuki and Masaru. Your best friend? Eijiro Kirishima. You've stated you don't care about your childhood friend, Izuku Midoriya, but is that really the case?"

"You wouldn't…" Katsuki hissed dangerously, shifting up to one knee. A single woman controlling a handful of guards, she was nothing but a lower rung peon working for the Uraraka. She stopped just shy of him, towering over the blonde menacingly. A hand reached into her jacket. The barrel of a gun rested against his forehead, pressing hard enough to leave an imprint. He glowered with a clamped mouth.

"You've got some balls; I'll give you that. Though that mouth of yours will get you into more trouble than it's worth. Sharp tongue. Arrogant. Pretentious. At the end of the day, Katsuki Bakugo, you're nothing more than an insignificant insect not worth saving."

"Fucking do it then!"

"Please stop, Ochaco!"

Ojiro latched onto the arm of the heiress, shifting the gun up and away from Bakugo as Ochaco broke into a stunned expression. Her body reacted and pulled against the trigger. A gunshot rang out. The room erupted into chaos; Aizawa latched onto Bakugo and Todoroki, dragging them out of the way as shouts filled the room. Guards swarmed Ochaco and Ojiro, shouting at him to let go with guns raised. Izuku called out helplessly from his position, yanking and tugging at the chains tirelessly. Glass rained over them as the fired bullet shattered a rooftop window. Ochaco stared at Ojiro with wide eyes as he carefully removed the gun from her possession, holding it out for a guard to snatch. The guards knew who he was; he'd trained most of them in martial arts. They wouldn't fire unless she commanded it.

"Ochaco, this isn't who you are! Don't become someone you're not! Please! I'm begging you; stand down." Ojiro pled with tears in his eyes, hand latching onto her other wrist. "You're a kind-hearted person who cares about her friends, who wants to learn about the world around. You love watching Love without Boundaries with Mina and Hagakure. They haven't kept up with the show since you left; it's not the same without you. I miss having a sparring partner who doesn't hold back, regardless of ranking or title. Kirishima tries to learn self-defense from me but can't quite understand it like you showed. Midoriya…I know he won't say it out loud; no one had in-depth conversations like you two did. I know why you pushed me away…you wanted to keep me safe, right? Does it seem like you're doing that right now with all these guns pointing at me?"

"Ojiro…" Ochaco breathed out in disbelief. All of the anger dissipated the longer she read his face. He was afraid. Not of the dozens of guns pointed at him…but afraid for her. What was she doing? Pointing a gun at someone for antagonizing her position? Right now she was no different than Shigaraki and it stung sharply in her heart. "Stand down. All of you. Escort the other three from the premises."

All guns lowered, guards stepping away to remove Aizawa, Bakugo, and Todoroki. Ojiro only released his grasp once the will to fight died from her body, the martial artist letting out a strangled breath. Ochaco slowly lowered her arms until they dangled at her sides depraved of strength. Izuku stopped tugging against the chains, just watching the scene carefully.

"I'm sorry for grabbing you like that, Ochaco. I didn't mean to be so rough," Ojiro apologized softly to the heiress. "I was afraid you were going to hurt Bakugo."

"No…I'm the one who lost control. I let it get to my head. I was never going to shoot him…" Ochaco replied brokenly, looking away from Ojiro. This should've been an easy meeting to get through, yet her pride clouded all rational judgement. Bakugo's taunts pierced through the carefully built barriers easily. "I'm not…I'm not a monster like Shigaraki…I don't kill needlessly."

"No, you're not. It's why you're stronger; because you don't take life so recklessly. That's not who you are, Ochaco. You're kind and compassionate to the plights of others. You're also under an immense amount of stress right now…it's okay to be afraid." Ojiro responded kindly to which she looked at him, tears welling up.

Izuku let out a forced breath through his teeth to lower his heart rate. It all made sense now; why Ojiro was so adamant in stopping Ochaco before the war escalated. How she reacted just now was her subconsciously slipping into a defensive mode to protect herself, just like how she nearly slammed Mina into the carpet and almost attacked both him and Kirishima. Aizawa was the one to snap her from it because he knew. Ojiro was right…

She was afraid.

The chains shifted at his back causing him to jerk his head around. Aizawa motioned with a finger against his lips to remain quiet while unravelling the hefty links. Then he crouched down to undo the ankle latches, silently setting them down before removing the handcuffs. Once he was freed Izuku stood and rubbed at his wrists. "Sir…"

"What happens from here on out is none of my business. I'll be waiting at the car." Aizawa simply explained then slipped into the shadows, most likely using a back door Izuku was unaware of.

Izuku cautiously shifted towards Ojiro, watching his surroundings for more guards lurking in the darkness. Would they even allow him to get close enough to her? If Sergeant Aizawa was the one to release the chains, did that mean he warned the guards to stay out of it? Not that Ochaco was in danger or anything with Ojiro beside her…

"Midoriya," His friend called out to him, motioning with a hand to come closer. Ochaco stiffened at the mentioning of his name and faced away, hand residing against her face. "We're fine, they won't bother us right now."

Swallowing hard Izuku kept walking until he stood in front of the heiress, studying her body language. Ochaco kept facing away, hand covering both eyes but the tears escaping still trailed down her face. He…didn't know how to start a conversation, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck as Ojiro looked on. A glance over to his friend revealed him tearing up as well, nodding in encouragement. Izuku contemplated for a few moments. A steadying breath in.

Then he began.

"Miss Ochaco…I…wanted to apologize for my behavior back in the hospital. What I said to you was unkind and unnecessary. I was afraid for my friend's life; afraid he would be wrapped up into a binding contract he could never escape. I acted irrationally. I'm more than willing to admit that I'm still biased against the Yakuza for the aforementioned reason. But that doesn't mean I should take it out on someone who has no control of their fate. I'm deeply sorry for my actions." Izuku bowed sharply to the heiress who seemed a little more than surprised at his response.

"…it's not your fault, Izuku," Ochaco answered thickly, swallowing back the lump growing in her throat. He remained bowing though seemed to be intently listening. Ojiro watched on as he swiped at watery eyes. "I don't blame you for having a harsh opinion against my family, it's nothing new for me. I am sorry for the loss of your father…and I wanted to clarify what actually happened that night. Your mother told me more about what occurred years ago which caused me to look into it,"

"She…did?" Izuku straightened up at that remark, brows furrowing in confusion. Why would his mother talk about his father to Ochaco? Said person nodded meekly, hands tightening together. "I looked up the case file for what happened…it was a gang skirmish, and he got caught in the middle. The police report says it was an Uraraka Yakuza that confessed to doing the fighting."

"It was an Uraraka Yakuza who claimed responsibility, although it was a rivaling gang that actually assaulted your father. Hisashi Midoriya approached the Uraraka clan in regard to a financial loan due to overwhelming debt. While he only wanted information pertaining to acquiring one, he never actually went through with it. Wind caught word of that so a rival gang attempting to enter Uraraka territory tracked him down one night, offering him a better deal. When he denied…" Ochaco trailed off uneasily, yet the implication was loud and clear.

"They roughed him up," Izuku finished lowly. She nodded slightly. "Then your guy showed up to challenge the encroaching gang. But what I don't understand is why an Uraraka member took the fall if it wasn't even his fault."

"…he tried to save your father, Izuku. We teach our guys to save civilians if they can, whether gang related or not, and by the time the police showed up he was covered in blood. No justice system would take his explanation of how he was soaked head to toe in victim D.N.A with an Uraraka tattoo. He was ordered to take the fall for the skirmish. They released him about five years later on good behavior and a note from my father."

Izuku placed a hand over his mouth. All these years he thought it was an Uraraka thug that killed his father…even the newspapers dragged their name in the mud because of it. Innocent man jumped and killed by Uraraka Yakuza. His mother…his poor mother. The paranoia and fear she had for years after that incident only fueled his hatred of the clan. It's part of the reason he became a detective with the U.A. Special Police Force, to help eradicate the Yakuza plaguing Musutafu.

He'd been wrong this entire time?

"Miss Ochaco…do you have his name?" Izuku breathed between fingers, turbulent virescent darting to puzzled auburn. "Do you know the name of the Yakuza who tried to save my father?"

"Itagaki Shuzo."

Everything from two days ago clicked like a tensioned spring snapping into place. The old man in line for the Katsudon, his affiliation with the Uraraka. He had to have been a member at one point! Now it all made sense! Izuku began muttering to himself while connecting all the dots, mapping out the paths with his hand. Ojiro let out a defeated groan as Ochaco glanced anxiously between the two. She wasn't quite sure how the conversation had steered into a downward spiral, but the vibration in her pocket dragged her thoughts elsewhere. The screen flashed Aizawa.

"What's wrong?" Ochaco asked after stepping away to answer. He wouldn't be calling so casually, especially since he was waiting down the hill at his vehicle.

"We've got company."

Ochaco whirled around, eyes scanning the high up windows. Someone was watching them, and she'd been too busy having a mental breakdown to pay attention. Ojiro noticed the alarm and change in demeanor, following her gaze to the windows. He shifted closer to her, whacking Midoriya on the arm to break his ramblings. Izuku broke the train of thought and quickly slipped into a defensive manner. A fast pant leg lift revealed the concealed gun. Ojiro didn't carry and Ochaco's was confiscated by her crew. He'd have to be the only one armed.

"How many?" The heiress breathed into the phone.

"Can't tell. Some of the security team has gone silent. Converge to the evacuation point."

"We'll finish this conversation later, we're moving out." Ochaco ordered after hanging up. The heiress began jogging towards one of the back doors, both men on her heels. Ojiro shined the flashlight up to clear the area of hiding enemies as Izuku swept the perimeter with laser focus. She grabbed onto the door handle and swung it open.

Coming face-to-face with a raggedy dark haired man, a knife gleaming in his hand. He thrust the blade towards her side, aiming for a critical point. Ochaco couldn't completely dodge the attack yet managed to grab his arm, swing him forward with a hand latched onto his neck, then slam him into the ground face first. His head hit with a sickening thud. The man went limp limbed as the knife clattered across the ground. She could feel the warmth beginning to spread beneath the cool shifting of the jacket. Minor injury, she'd live.

"Are you hurt?!" Izuku asked while ensuring the man was completely down. Apparently the blow to the head knocked him out completely. They were fighting in the literal dark once they stepped foot outside.

"Just a graze. Keep moving, there's bound to be more of them nearby." Ochaco pushed forward through the doorway with the map of the evacuation route implanted deeply into her mind. It wasn't surprising that Shigaraki was trying to track her down everywhere she went. They failed the first time, now it only fueled their desire to burn her at the stake.

"Let me go first, Ochaco. Please," Ojiro latched onto her upper arm when she tried to rush through another door, hand already pushing down the handle.

"You know I'm more than capable of handling myself, Ojiro," The heiress replied.

"I understand that, but you were just nicked with a blade of unknown origin. The next time it could be a gun pointed directly at your head." Ochaco gave him a pointed look to which he sheepishly looked away. "Sorry, bad comparison. Let us do our job of protecting you."

"Miss Ochaco, please get between Ojiro and me. That's the best way we can protect you right now since you're weaponless." Izuku affirmed his friend's concerns with a confident stare at the heiress.

Ochaco briefly pursed her lips in thought, giving in with a step back and hand gesturing them towards the door. Why not have a little fun with it. They didn't know the first gun only had the one round in it, so it was useless. The second one on the other hand…"Through the door, left, one point six kilometers down the path, left again down to a wide opening. There's an emergency zone that either Aizawa or another member will gather us at. Hope that hothead friend of yours brought enough ammunition with him because it's going to get nasty in a minute."

"Wasn't he just bluffing about that?" Ojiro asked, mildly concerned at her statement.

"With Kaachan…probably not," Izuku shook his head as the door swung open.

The trio weaved their way through the abandoned warehouse taking out attackers as they arose. Ochaco did her best to remember their faces in the event they came looking for her again. Most of them seemed unrecognizable, either due to being unknown or wearing masks of sorts. They pushed out into the chilly air and began the trek down a narrow hilly pathway. A hand pressed against the screaming side. Heat filtered through both layers and onto flesh. Ochaco tsked beneath her breath. The bleeding wasn't stopping. How big of a wound was it? She'd barely felt it.

"What's wrong? Does your wound hurt?" Izuku suddenly asked as the trail weaved through a tall thicket of grass. Ojiro slowed down hearing that, looking back at the heiress with the light. "We should take a look at that—"

"When we're not surrounded by enemies on all sides," Ochaco warned as the grass around them began to waver unnaturally. "Get ready!"

The first one popped between the stalks with a machete raised and aimed at the heiress. Ojiro slammed the side of his hand against his neck, forcing his arm back into his throat and pulling tightly to ensure he went down. As the blade clattered against the dirt more and more emerged, shouting their threats and vowing to end the Uraraka lineage. Izuku began firing shots to the legs and arms to incapacitate limbs, the injuries painful yet not life threatening. One slipped through the busy defenses and swiped his fingers against the back of Ochaco's jacket, yanking hard on it. Anticipating the move, she slid both arms from the top, grabbed the sleeves then wrapped them around the attackers face. With him blinded and struggling for oxygen Ochaco sent a roundhouse kick to the side of his head, knocking him off the trail and back into the grass.

Something shiny caught her attention as it hit the dirt, and she realized it was Izuku's watch. Snatching it up it became shoved into her pant pocket as another thug emerged. He narrowly missed the bullet aimed for his shoulder, instead ducking low and tackling Ochaco by the waist. They tumbled into the grass as Ojiro and Izuku cried out her name. Hands fumbled to reach for her throat, the sloppy movements giving her plenty of time to lodge a knee sharply between his legs. He howled in pain until a fist to the face sent him reeling to the side, hands clawing at his now broken nose. A painful kick to the side of his head finished the already fading consciousness and he settled in for a long nap. She felt a sudden breeze from behind.

A large blade shifted upwards, hip to neck, tearing the entire blouse in half. Ochaco swung around and took out a knee, forcing the attacker down. The second leg following up cracked into the side of his head heavily. Though unlike the last guy he didn't go down so easily. A rough hand latched onto the slender leg, throwing her off balance, and she went soaring through the grass like a paper bag. The force of the impact against the hard dirt was measured by the loud popping of her shoulder as it shifted out of place. A pained cry slipped out alerting Izuku and Ojiro of her location. The burly man stomped through the grass with the blade raised high above his head, aiming for the injured brunette. A single gunshot rang out.

Ochaco peered through teary eyes to see a trickle of blood racing down the side of the attackers head. A few moments later his body began to rock backwards until it finally gave, and he collapsed to the ground, dead. Rapidly approaching footsteps had the heiress back on her feet in a flash, hand cupping the dislocated shoulder firmly. She could still fight, would still fight with every ounce of strength in her injured body. The last few strands of grass swayed from movement, and she launched herself forward with leg swinging out full force. A hand deflected the attack, latching onto her ankle and holding it in place tightly.

"Watch who the hell you're attacking!" Bakugo barked angrily as a flashlight emerged from the path behind her, illuminating the angry face of the explosives expert. He released her foot, and she regained balance, stepping back when he and Todoroki emerged with guns drawn. He gave a quick glance over as she cupped her shoulder once more. "The fuck happened to you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Ochaco shot back bitterly. Why him of all people? "What happened to Aizawa? Did you get separated?"

"Sergeant Aizawa took off in another direction without warning, so we just followed the gunshots and sounds of fighting. What happened to your shoulder? Is it injured?" Todoroki asked with eyes trained on the held appendage. Judging by the lack of movement in her hand and arm, it either became severely injured or was dislocated.

"It's fine,"

"Ochaco!" Ojiro rounded the corner first with Izuku right on his heels. The two quickly took in the newcomers before shifting to the heiress. Her shirt had been torn practically in two from the back with only a few thick threads keeping it together. Blood from the side wound stained skin and blouse crimson, slick and wet. The hand cupping her oddly shaped shoulder twitched every few seconds from pain.

"Let me see your shoulder," Ojiro swiftly moved in and grabbed her upper arm, examining the dislocated joint with mild concern. "It's not broken I can tell you that. Just seems to be dislocated from the socket, partially instead of completely. Easy fix but painful. I've dealt with these a few times so I'm going to pop it back into place now. Ready?"

"Get it over with," Ochaco grit out when her arm shifted forward, and pressure was applied. Fuck, it hurt.

"Three…two…" Ojiro never got to one before expertly yanking her arm forward. The joint successfully popped back into the socket and Ochaco let out a strangled breath of pain. He prodded around her shoulder blade with his fingers before nodding, pleased with the positioning. "Alright. You're good to go now…but, uh…the back of your shirt is…nice tattoo though?"

Heat rushed to Ochaco's face as she realized the front of her shirt had slipped a little due to the skirmish. The top curve of her breasts were exposed through the collar as the blouse shoulders had slipped down to rest mid upper arm. She also became very aware that the entirety of her family tattoo was out in the open for all to see. No doubt Izuku and Ojiro had taken a gawk at the colorful piece. The brunette slapped both arms over her chest, mortified.

"D-don't just stand there and stare! I need a shirt!" Ochaco shakily demanded as Todoroki shifted to see the damage as well, the curiosity getting the better of him. Bakugo remained rooted in place as Ojiro quickly shifted the curious negotiator away, Izuku ripping his jacket off, then unbuttoning his collared shirt and covering her with it, his tank top remaining beneath. She clasped the two sides together with trembling hands, face burning a thousand degrees under the stars.

"Oi…answer something." Katsuki started with a finger pointed at Ochaco, face no longer scrunched in annoyance or anger. It almost seemed like he was close to an epiphany. Everyone looked at him quizzically except Ochaco who had a guess what he was about to ask. "What the hell's your name?"

"Kaachan," Izuku tried to warn but a delicate hand raised up to silence him. The brunette stepped closer to the explosive blonde, tilting her head up to lock eyes.

"I am Ochaco Uraraka, heiress to the Uraraka throne, daughter of Kenji and Fumi Uraraka." Ochaco answered proudly, unwavering. It took a few moments to fully process in Bakugo's mind, the gears twisting and spinning to interlock. Once it did, he spoke.

"Oh."

"That's…it? Just 'oh'? I was figuring a better reaction than that honestly," Ojiro replied with a nervous laugh, though no one else moved. No one laughed. Todoroki's eyebrows raised into his bangs. Izuku remained stoic. Ochaco stepped back and began buttoning up the oversized shirt. "Uh…maybe we should just keep moving now…"

"Let's go. Remain under the assumption that there are more enemies lurking in the grass. If you can't bring yourself to complete fatal shots, then incapacitate. We still have a ways to reach the evacuation zone."

"Right!" Everyone save for Bakugo chorused as the now larger group trekked forward. The blonde lingered at the back of the group, still scanning his surroundings though now with a blank expression.

Despite the throbbing pain in her shoulder Ochaco led the group down the pathway, dodging attacks and retaliating when necessary. Shigaraki was really throwing everything he had at her and the guys. The further they went the worse the attackers became. Gunshots rang out more heavily as the opposing gang members opted for firepower instead of close combat. A lot of the time was spent hiding behind boulders or hitting the dirt to avoid widespread sprayings of ammo. Bakugo and Izuku handled most of the attackers in between magazine changes, either killing them or crippling their arms. But their resources were beginning to run low, and they soon found themselves with only Bakugo's arsenal.

"Where the hell do these guys keeping coming from?!" Katsuki barked in frustration as he narrowly ducked down to avoid a round aimed for his head.

"Shigaraki has a lot of men; we're talking at least sixty thousand," Ochaco replied in a panting breath. The pain was beginning to settle against her bones, gnawing at the nerves. Blood continued to leak from the side gash in an uncontrollable flow. For a simple graze it was leaking too much to be normal. She yanked up the side of her shirt to finally examine the wound. No more than a two inch, quarter-inch deep gash in her side. "The wound should've stopped by now, it's still going."

"Let me see," Izuku motioned for a light against the wound, carefully examining the gash as rounds flew above their heads. He failed to notice Ochaco's face turning beet red at the closeness. A finger grazed over the wound. "I think the blade may have been coated with a type of venom, possibly an anti-coagulant. Your blood's not clotting because it can't. You're going to keep bleeding out."

"Fuckers," Ochaco moaned in frustration. Dodging that blade in its entirety would've kept her in better fighting conditions. Now she was slowly bleeding to death in a field in the dark. "I normally carry medical supplies in the main vehicle, but that's a good distance from here. If we can get to the evacuation zone then we should be fine."

"May I?" Bakugo suddenly asked politely, awaiting confirmation. A shotgun shell with the cap ripped off in one hand and a lighter in the other.

"What the fuck, Kaachan?! You can't just use gunpowder and a lighter on her!" Izuku cried out indignantly, reaching for the shell to keep it away. His friend deftly kept it out of his range while maintaining eye contact with Ochaco. "Why do you even have this on you right now?"

"I'm always prepared," Bakugo deadpanned. He set the lighter down, reached into his jacket, and withdrew a grenade. Without even blinking he ripped the pin out with his teeth and casually tossed it towards the enemies. Within seconds it detonated. Screams and dirt filled the air. Silence followed afterwards as all targets became eliminated. "See? Problem solved. No more enemies."

"That's just messed up," Ojiro breathed, peeking over his rock to look at the scene. Instant regret and he diverted his flashlight back to the group. "How much further is it to the evacuation zone? Can you make it back for proper treatment?"

"You've already lost almost a quarter of your blood supply judging by the trail you're leaving and how fast it's soaking through the clothes. When fighting you have to squint your eyes slightly to focus on the target because of the lightheadedness. Even your martial arts skills are beginning to slip. While not life threatening at this point, once you reach fifty percent of blood loss there's no recovering from it." Katsuki stated matter-of-factly. Ochaco let out a low whistle, thoroughly impressed.

"Katsuki Bakugo, underneath that rough exterior lies some intelligence after all." The heiress remarked lightly. At least he was keeping track. With the chaos constantly ensuing around them, she'd been focused on taking down the Shigaraki men. Surprisingly though, apparently to everyone else, Katsuki bowed sharply.

"Thank you, Miss Uraraka."

Izuku nearly fell over from shock. Earlier his friend was acting brash and insulting Ochaco, yet now he was being respectful? Kaachan being respectful?! Even his friends seemed shocked at the sudden change though no one remarked. "I-if you think we can keep going then let's make it back to the evacuation zone. It's been nearly one kilometer already."

"Try to reach out to Aizawa, get a lock on his location. I want two of you to go find him and make sure he's alright. Oh, here." Ochaco grasped a section of pantleg and yanked hard, splitting it open to reveal a concealed gun and holster. It released instantly. "You're going to need this."

"Buffalo Bore Penetrator, one-hundred and twenty-four grain FMJ FN rounds. American lethality. This shit'll blast a hole and obliterate anything surrounding it," Bakugo remarked after reaching first for the gun. He popped the magazine, examining the rounds with high interest. "It'll do the job all the way to the grave. Todoroki, take Ojiro and go find Sergeant Aizawa. Call when you've found him, we're going to keep moving towards the evacuation zone and hunker down."

"Ochaco, you'll be alright?" Ojiro asked worriedly as Todoroki took the gun, calculating the weight before chambering it. Leaving her alone with Bakugo and Midoriya wasn't a terrible idea; they were two of the strongest people he knew, it was just the fact that they also constantly bickered and fought at the worst times. Ochaco nodded wearily. "We'll find Aizawa and be back. You two better focus on the task at hand instead of bickering."

"Ah? The fuck you say?" Bakugo barked indignantly as the two disappeared back into the tall grass. A finger gesture followed promptly after.

"Kaachan, let's get moving. I'm sure the grenade blast drew more attention." Izuku peeked over the rocks to ensure the area was clear. No sounds, nothing moving. Didn't mean there weren't people waiting to ambush them the second they moved. "Miss Ochaco, let me help you up."

Ochaco stared at the helping hand held out by the detective. Just like that day in the alleyway. Despite being wary and constantly on guard for threats, his face remained reassuring in the dim light of the flashlight held by Bakugo. She felt almost taken aback when she instantly grasped it, latching firmly onto the appendage. Even in the cool air of the wintery night, his hand felt scorching hot as his fingers gently grazed across her skin. Steadying to her feet the heiress quietly thanked him, motioning for him to lead with burning cheeks. The tank top only showed off his chiseled physique even in the darkness. Bakugo brought up the rear with constant surveillance, minimal complaints or remarks.

Silence filled the trek save for Izuku occasionally asking how she felt, monitoring any new symptoms and offering to attempt to tie off the wound. Ochaco merely declined saying she'd survive until help arrived. The uneven ground wasn't helping the gash as each step on the right side put more pressure on the skin. So much blood had been spilled that it attached the shirt via a large cold patch. She'd get it fixed up soon enough so dealing with the slimy sensation was tolerable. What was beginning to bother her was the fact that no other Shigaraki men appeared. No movements, noise, surprise attacks. Ochaco narrowed her eyes in distrust. They were planning something…

"Wait." The heiress announced prior to reaching the vast open space, shifting herself forward with an arm out. Both officers stopped in anticipation, killing the flashlights. Crouching down she grasped for a rock around the small cliff-edge. She had a feeling the evacuation zone had been compromised and tossed the rock forward, aiming for the rusted metal roof of the small, rundown utilities shed that connected to the abandoned warehouse. It collided with a tink. Seconds passed with no movement or response, leading them to believe the area was secure. But the moment the rock rolled from the metal to the solid earth below, a resounding explosion obliterated everything and created a sizeable crater.

"Landmines? Seriously?" Izuku whispered with an arm shielding himself from raining debris.

"It shouldn't be that surprising considering how many previous assassination attempts I've had," Ochaco mentioned as if it were a casual conversation regarding the weather. Izuku just gave her a horrified look. "The record in my family is around a thousand."

"Fucking stubborn lineage," Bakugo snorted under his breath.

"Why do you think we're the most powerful in all of Japanese history?" Ochaco retorted instantly. That shut him up. "Anyways, have you heard anything from Todoroki or Ojiro?"

"Nothing yet. Deku, give your boss a call since I don't have his number in my phone." Bakugo instructed while studying the smoking crater, tossing his phone to the detective. Crouching beside the heiress he pulled out a pair of binoculars for a closer look. "They're most likely using anti-personnel landmines deigned to explode with the smallest amounts of pressure. The distance from the roof to the ground was more than enough to trigger the internal combustion, causing it to explode. There's no easy way to get around these except to either trigger them all or go back. If they're willing to fight this dirty then we can expect the path backwards to be rigged by now. Since they used the tall grass to their advantage, we're going to do the same."

"You're forgetting the possibility of rigging the grass as well," Ochaco pointed out, shifting to rest on her bottom as the dizziness grew. Both arms rested over raised knees to cradle her head. "If they're going to rig the pathways we took then they can also toss a bunch of these in the grass, easily concealing them until stepped on. Losing a few guys for a chance to take down the Uraraka heiress is nothing to them."

"True, but I doubt their goal is to ultimately kill you off just yet. Critically injuring is also off the table. If they were chasing you down two days ago without actively trying to assassinate you then it was nothing more than a diversion tactic. They wanted you to draw all resources away from Downtown so they could plant the explosives and blow the building. Shigaraki is just playing around right, testing how you and the Musutafu police force respond."

"Seems you've figured it all out," Ochaco mused, a cocky smirk her response.

"Don't underestimate me,"

"Sergeant Aizawa's phone went straight to voicemail, same for Todoroki and Ojiro. There's not enough service to connect a call up here. There should be a secondary evacuation point, right?" Izuku handed back the phone before settling beside Ochaco, remaining crouched in the event of a fast exit.

"We can try to go for my vehicle. Shouldn't be too far from here," Ochaco decided with a tired rubbing of eyes. Her shoulder was aching like hell and her side burned like it was on fire, but she had to keep moving. Falling asleep now would be dangerous. "It's the most armored thing on this island. Impervious to most attacks, explosive and non. It may also be our only way out of the remote hillside at this point."

"Where was the vehicle parked last?"

"…I don't know." Ochaco admitted sullenly, forehead tapping against her arms. Bakugo and Izuku shared a look.

"You…don't know?" Izuku asked unsurely. "Do you have coordinates or anything?"

"No. I don't keep track of the vehicle. They move away to an undisclosed location after I get out. It's not my job to track them."

"Okay, not a huge deal. What about GPS?"

"…"

"Not that either?"

Ochaco shifted her face to look at the detective, shame flittering across her expression. Aizawa always took care of things like this… "…I don't know how to use it."

"Let me see your phone, Miss Uraraka," Katsuki interjected himself into the conversation, holding a hand out for the device. Begrudgingly she dug around in the pocket for the device and forfeited it. The blonde shifted a little ways to get a better signal while messing with the GPS coordinates. In the process Izuku's watch fell out once more, landing face up in the dirt and reflecting the starry skies.

Before Ochaco could snatch it up, Izuku gently pulled it from the dirt and wiped it off with his shirt. She quickly hid her face out of embarrassment. He wasn't supposed to know she kept it on her at all times! Did Ojiro mention something? Apart from being torn to shreds by Shigaraki, this was her second worst nightmare!

"I'm amazed at how durable this is," Izuku mentioned softly. Deft fingers twisted the watch this way and that, examining the quality with the emitted glow. Not a scratch on it despite already being dropped twice. The chains shifted smoothly like a well-oiled machine. The hands ticked silently in perfectly timed increments across the face. It was the most amazing piece of jewelry he'd ever seen; and he threw it back at her like a vile piece of garbage. "How long did it take for you to pick this out, Miss Ochaco?"

"Three days," Ochaco muffled through her arms. The heat burning her cheeks kept her from lifting to properly respond, though he seemed to hear it quite clearly. He let out a hum of contemplation.

"You know something?" Izuku suddenly asked the heiress, shifting to a sit with legs loosely crossed. Auburn peeked up at him. "I don't feel for a second that someone who took three whole days to meticulously pick through probably dozens, if not hundreds of watches…could honestly believe, confidently, that it was nothing more than a bribery."

"Because it wasn't." Ochaco replied a little more vocally, raising her head to fully stare at him. Where was he going with this… "If it were nothing more than bribery, it'd be the most carelessly picked item with the highest value."

"Exactly. Despite what I said that day in the hospital…Miss Ochaco, do you wholeheartedly feel this watch, that you carry around with you at all times, was an attempt at purchasing friendship?" Izuku turned towards her fully, hand extended out with the watch resting center in his palm. Auburn studied the jewelry momentarily before shifting up to gleaming virescent. It wasn't vulnerability shining through his eyes…more like…being earnest? At the same time it wasn't a gravely serious state of mind. He was absolutely honest, probing for an answer he internally sought. No. It wasn't that either…Izuku Midoriya was looking for her answer. Her reasoning.

Her feelings.

"I…I never attempted to purchase your friendship, Izuku. Merely show gratitude for your company and time." Ochaco whispered, eyes never leaving his. The dryness in her mouth made her tongue feel thick, sticking to everything it touched. His gaze remained unwavering even when she failed to respond in a timely manner. He was patient with her, coaxing at the pace she could handle. "T-to thank you for unwavering support even in my weakest moments. You taught me so much about the world outside of my fortress that it…seemed almost like a fairytale. A world vastly different than my own. Mina, Hagakure, Kirishima, Ojiro…and you. You all taught me how to push past my comfort levels to see what the city I hold dear to my heart has to offer."

"You taught me that just because you're known for your family or lineage, it doesn't mean it defines who you are." Izuku replied softly. Ochaco bit down on her bottom lip to stop the emotions from spilling over though the floodgates quickly opened. The detective let out a small, choked laugh while swiping a hand across his face, paying special attention to his eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry. If it makes you feel better I cry like a baby at the simplest of emotional moments. You should've seen me at my police academy graduation; full on bawling as I got my degree. My mom has the picture framed on her wall."

Ochaco let out a strangled laugh as the tears spilled over, tilting her head back to gaze at the stars. It was odd, the pressure that built up in her chest was dissipating at a fast rate. Izuku joined in her crying/laughing session, the two eventually attempting to rein themselves back in. The heiress glanced over. He was still laughing mostly to himself, tears trickling down reddened cheeks and glassy eyes watching the starry heavens above. The first time she'd ever seen someone so…euphoric. Serene.

Happy. Honestly, truly, happy.

Without taking her eyes from the beautiful scene the heiress reached for the watch still nestled in his palm. His attention shifted downwards, meeting the awe filled shimmering gaze as her fingers grazed against his palm. Auburn dropped downward to focus on the jewelry. Already he predicted what she was about to do and held up his left wrist, patiently waiting as the brunette slid the cool metal against skin. It latched silkily.

"I want you to have this back, Izuku. As a token of…friendship, if you will." Ochaco mustered up the courage to look up at him through her lashes. Her heart began flurrying against the ribs in a rhythmic beat. An unusual, light and fluttering sensation filled her stomach, floating upwards into her chest. Izuku merely gave her the widest smile she's ever seen, and it knocked the breath straight from her lungs.

"Friends."

Ochaco beamed so hard it hurt the corners of her mouth. In response Izuku looked away, suddenly bashful with a hand over his mouth. While slightly confusing to the brunette, she could care less. She had a friend. Her first real friend. It made her want to jump up and down with joy, body already shifting to a stand. Just as she extended a hand to help her new friend up, a wave of dizziness crashed so hard against the Yakuza she stumbled backwards. The first heel slipped over the edge, hitting air as gravity shoved the heiress towards the field of hidden landmines.

A streak of fabric shot between both detectives rushing forward, frantic to grab onto the falling body, and quickly wrapped itself around Ochaco tightly. Her body jerked to a stop, leaning heavily over the edge. Izuku grabbed one side, Bakugo the other, and guided the near fainting heiress back to solid ground. She slumped against the green haired detective with barely an ounce of strength left.

"Right on time," Aizawa panted heavily, both hands tightly grasping the scarf. Shit had gone down further up the hill which delayed her rescuing though judging by the two fretting over her, Ochaco was in good hands. Ojiro and Todoroki were sent to bring the SUV down. One of his captured attackers spilled the beans on everything; how they were instructed to follow any blacked out vehicles out of town and whoever injured the heiress, the prize was a hefty hundred-thousand yen. Most average scum of the barrel would jump at such an easy job.

"Sergeant Aizawa, Ochaco's been injured." Izuku explained as his superior jogged over, watching as he dropped to his knees and checked for a pulse. Aizawa seemed mostly unharmed save for a few cuts and scratches. "She was grazed with a blade back in the warehouse that must've been coated in something to prevent proper clotting. Her left shoulder was dislocated but Ojiro popped it back into place. She wouldn't let any of us attempt to tie off the wound."

"Stubborn as always, Ochaco," Shota growled, digging through a pouch on the back of his belt. A small vial emerged, and his thumb quickly popped the cork. Carefully it was poured over the wound, cleansing it while forcing the blood to clot. Within a minute the flow ceased, chunking up as her body returned to normal function. "Probably an anti-coagulant like substance that forces the blood cells apart so they can't bind. What happened to her shirt?"

"Well, you see…" Izuku trailed off nervously at the murderous look he was currently receiving. A quick glance told the Sergeant where it came from. "Ochaco got into a fight with a Shigaraki member and the two went tumbling into a thicket of tall brush. By the time she dealt with the first guy, another sent her flying. When we got to her the shirt was already torn almost all the way from bottom to top. She'd found Kaachan and Todoroki before we did. I gave her my shirt since she was…uh…becoming a little exposed…"

"I shouldn't have to say this, to either of you, but if you took the opportunity to take a gander at Ochaco in a vulnerable moment," Shota popped his large, serrated blade from his boot, pointing it between the two menacingly. "I'm going to rip your organs out one by one then shove them up your asses. Then I'm going to reprocess them and feed the concoction to you via funnel due to freshly broken jaws. Clear?"

"Sir!" Both men snapped at attention solely from fear alone. While still disgruntled at the explanation and situation, the Yakuza forced himself to deal with it later. Ochaco needed urgent care.

The sound of a vehicle approaching reached their ears so the officer direction Bakugo to intercept them from entering the rigged plain. Izuku remained by Ochaco's side, holding onto her hand supportively. While his boss gave him wary looks about it every few seconds, he ignored it and instead focused on the Yakuza heiress falling in and out of consciousness. It wasn't until they had her loaded up in the modified backseat of the SUV that she stirred briefly. A hand flopped against her face as a throbbing headache formed.

"What…where am I…" Ochaco mumbled with eyes squinting up at the ceiling. It certainly didn't look like outside. Or maybe it was, and the world spun too fast for her to see the stars.

"You did good, kid," Shota reassured her when she lolled her head towards his voice. He was sitting in the driver seat trying to navigate Todoroki and Bakugo behind him in the cop car. "It takes skill to survive an ongoing onslaught like you did."

"Aizawa, where the hell did you go?" Ochaco moaned in tired annoyance.

"To take care of some business. You're lucky your friends were there to help you out."

Friends? Ochaco fully opened her eyes, brain registering warmth against the right hand. Izuku was loosely grasping her hand from the upright seat next to her, facing the window. It was hard to tell if he was even awake as the car jolted over uneven terrain. She quickly glanced towards the front seat to see Ojiro slumping against the passenger window, completely knocked out. Easing herself to a leaning position with her elbow Ochaco pushed herself a little closer to the front seats.

"They're both out?" She asked quietly. Aizawa nodded with a glance in the rear-view mirror. "I didn't realize they were so worn down."

"They fought hard to protect you, giving everything they had. Our guys are still cleaning up the warpath you three created. You did a lot of damage, but I'm proud of you for sticking with your decision, Ochaco."

"I wanted to end the violence not get wrapped up into more," The heiress sighed and shook her head, disappointed. Chestnut tendrils swayed against her cheek, a finger gently pushing it back behind an ear.

"I know. But we both understand that it's going to take more violence in order to stop what's coming. Consider it the cost of ending terrorism Shigaraki puts our citizens through on the daily. Think of all the people suffering right now under their wrath, destruction, and pain; it has to be done."

"Yeah…" The brunette agreed quietly, shifting to lay back down on the makeshift bed. Tubes protruded from the back of her left hand providing vital nutrients and pain meds. A bag hanging from the door handle replenished lost blood from her side wound. It was like being in the hospital all over again. "Can I ask you something?"

"You know the answer to that," Shota replied instantly.

"Is it safe for Izuku, Ojiro, Bakugo, and Todoroki to stay around me?"

Shota was only partially prepared for that question, his free hand rubbing against his jawline. The obvious answer was no. Aligning with a powerful Yakuza group was dangerous no matter how limited the interaction was. At the same time, the group had proven themselves capable in dangerous situations. But as for aligning directly with Ochaco… "With everything going on right now, my answer is probably not. While they've proven themselves capable of defending against Shigaraki, it also makes them easy targets. But…at the end of the day, it's their choice to make if they stand beside you."

"I don't want them getting hurt…my friends." It warmed Ochaco's heart to say that and as she curled up to sleep off the growing exhaustion, she failed to see Aizawa's smile from her position.

"You've got some good friends, Ochaco."

"I do…I really do."

---

The office was in such a flurry the following Monday that it had Izuku standing in the doorway just watching. Papers were flying back and forth between desks, phones ringing off the hook, supervisors directing people where to go with high-strung voices. He hadn't even taken a sip of coffee yet. Slipping through the entanglement of bodies Izuku managed to reach his desk. Except there was nothing there. No chair, computer, filing cabinet, motivational cat picture (his mom found it on sale and he did think it was adorable). Confusion flickered across his mind. Looking left and right he verified it was his desk, the very same one he'd occupied for the entirety of his career. A hand scratched green locks.

What was going on today?

"Midoriya, about time you showed up," Kirishima called out through the throngs of officers, large hand waving easily above them. "Come on, man, you're about to miss it!"

"Kirishima, what's going on? Where'd everything at my desk go? And what am I about to miss?" Izuku hurriedly followed suit as his friend led them to the large conference room where nearly every Yakuza detective stood, whispering amongst themselves. An uneasy pit began to form in his core. A quick headcount revealed it was only detectives who aligned with the Yakuza division. No other officers. "Please tell me there wasn't another Shigaraki attack this morning…"

"You didn't hear, Midoriya?" A senior detective asked, surprised. Izuku shook his head. "I'm surprised you didn't with how involved you are. The Uraraka Yakuza are holding a press conference in a few minutes. Rumor has it they're going to announce a war against those bastards plaguing the city."

"Are you serious? Where's Sergeant Aizawa at?"

"That's the other thing…no one knows. Chief Yagi has been trying to get ahold of him this morning. The crazy thing is a good portion of the staff haven't shown up for work either. Like they all disappeared at the same time. The Chief's worried Shigaraki nabbed them for blackmail." Kirishima filled in as the senior detective had his attention redirected. Dread drained the color from Izuku's face. Oh no. "Man, you good? You just like, lost all the coloring from your face."

"They start yet?" Bakugo appeared out of nowhere, shifting to Kirishima's other side. He glanced over at Izuku with a knowing look. The coffee cup lifted to his lips slowly, like he needed the distraction yet had no urge to drink.

"Nah, not yet. The lines are going nuts this morning. People are panicking and asking for evacuation details. None of that's even been decided yet seeing as we're waiting for Chief Yagi to confirm."

Izuku tightly crossed his arms to quell their trembles. Suspicions of what the Uraraka clan was about to do bubbled to the surface, aggressively popping. Did it mean Aizawa left the force to fight alongside Ochaco?

"Everyone pipe down, it's starting!" Someone shouted as the volume was cranked all the way up on the large tv. Silence fell over the room once the Uraraka clan symbol appeared. The screen switched to a live feed a few seconds later and Izuku nearly gasped aloud at the view. Others vocally expressed their distress.

Sergeant Aizawa stood beside Ochaco dressed in all black with his hair tied back into a low bun. The officer appeared more menacing than ever before with a piercing gaze that could drill through solid walls. His posture was upright and rigid, hands resting against his lower back. He truly looked like a Yakuza. Izuku could see Kirishima shaking his head in disbelief, hand latched over his mouth. Bakugo remained silent with a stony gaze on the screen.

Yet it wasn't Aizawa who drew the most attention. Ochaco sat regally upon a grey tinted marble and wooden carved throne. A large dragon head with a crystal Sakura in its mouth protruded from the back, looming over the heiress. It's claws curved outward from the armrests, metal nails gleaming dangerously in the lighting. In the right claw laid a thick book that appeared ancient, the edges worn and golden scripture losing luster. Clutched in the left claw was a beautifully sheathed katana wrapped in pure gold, the Uraraka clan symbol nestled atop in white marble. Though not even the impressive statue could top Ochaco. Donned in probably the most beautiful kimono ever to see the light of day, the black, gold, and pink laced formal wear stood out like the brightest star in the starry sky.

Intricate threads depicting countless pristine Sakura littered the front, the petals falling from a grand Sakura tree that curved over the right shoulder. Koi swam between the flowers carefree and fluid, scales reflecting like diamonds. Her obi, with its golden and white colors, created a stark contrast between the black by using tighter knit patterns of the family crest. A sensu rested gracefully between her fingers atop her lap. Chestnut locks were pulled back save for the two tendrils that rested against delicate pink cheeks. Crimson tinted lips brought out the smoldering fire in her eyes. No other makeup touched porcelain skin, her natural beauty more than enough. A large, ornate pin held together the tight bun at the base of her nape, tendrils of freshly picked Sakura flowers swinging gently.

"Is…has Aizawa been a traitor all along?" A low voice asked, quivering in emotion.

"No way…he's been with the force for two decades without any signs! What's the deal? Is he being forced into working for them?" Another quipped in. The fear was beginning to spark from a single flicker into a bigger flame. "And who's that lady next to him? The boss' wife?"

One person was inciting panic and the rest were giving in, throwing away years of training regarding difficult situations. Izuku felt his newly replaced phone vibrating angrily in his pocket. Fingers scrambled to pull it out and hit accept.

"Midoriya, please tell me you're seeing what I'm seeing right now." Ojiro rasped into the phone. He could hear Toru and Mina in the background crying, loudly protesting it wasn't Ochaco sitting there. "Please tell me this isn't what I think it is…"

"Yeah…I think it is…I didn't know anything about this," Izuku replied lowly, keeping both eyes on Ochaco's face. The level of authority and intimidation radiating from the brunette had his neck hairs standing up on end. She was like a whole other person from the one a few nights ago. "Things at the station are tense as well. I'll call you back in a bit."

"Good morning, citizens of Musutafu," Ochaco spoke suddenly and the room became quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Izuku pursed his lips together tightly, anxious to hear what was about to happen. "I apologize for disturbing you so early in the morning, though it is with great urgency that we address the ongoing situation within the city. As many of you know by now, a rivaling gang operating under the name of Shigaraki has infiltrated the city over the past few months. While they were not believed to be an active threat in the beginning, they have flourished their true colors by daring to attack and take innocent lives. They strive to instill fear into your hearts, turning you against those wishing to offer protection. Do not give in to their heinous behavior. Their goal is to erupt the city into chaos and disorder."

The nerves were beginning to build in Izuku, the detective's leg twitching against the carpeted floor.

"I wish to assure the citizens of Musutafu that measures are being deployed in an attempt to intercept the increase of crime. In doing so, we have entered an agreement with the U.A. Special Police Force to coordinate an attack against Shigaraki."

"Holy…fucking…shit…" Kirishima breathed out as others proclaimed surprise, even anger at the unification. The redhead turned to Izuku who didn't even see him with eyes glued to the screen. Whipping the other direction he tried to gauge a reaction from Bakugo yet ended up with nothing more than a neutral expression, coffee cup lingering millimeters from taut lips.

"What the hell? Why should we work with the Uraraka clan when they've done nothing but run rampant in the city! Their presence only brings more crime. How many people have died because of Uraraka interference?" An officer exploded with one arm thrown out at the room, an angry finger pointed at the screen. "Come on, people! Don't fall for this bullshit!"

"Shut the fuck up and let her finish!" Bakugo out matched the officer in decibels, grabbing him by the front of the uniform then shoving him towards the door. "If you can't shut your fucking face then get out. Save your grievances for someone who cares!"

"Dude, what's your deal?" Kirishima whispered once his friend returned to his spot. Bakugo ignored him, eyes locking onto the screen.

"—for the time being no drastic action will be taken. Rest assured your daily lives can continue. With this unification comes new guidelines. Heavier patrols will commence after the hours of seven at night and go into the mornings with an end time of six. We strive to preserve daily work travel schedules to the best of our ability. All businesses within city limits have been sent a letter regarding the changes and what to expect next. The next change will directly affect those working under the guidance of Chief Yagi."

"I haven't even seen the Chief leave his office this morning," One woman spoke lowly though with how still the room was, it echoed loudly.

"He hasn't even come out for the morning meeting. I wonder if it has something to do with Shota…" Another responded.

"Surely by now you've noticed the person standing beside me. Most of you know him as Sergeant Shota Aizawa. Through his twenty years of dedication to Musutafu and its citizens, Shota has created a rapport with many. I apologize for withholding critical information from public records, it was a necessary cause. The truth is this; Shota Aizawa has been working undercover as a double agent for the Uraraka clan. What this means is that he has been our inside source pertaining to any reported Yakuza activity filtered through the U.A. Special Police Force—"

Izuku felt his stomach drop out. Sergeant Aizawa lied to him. He was never a double agent for the police station, he was working under the Uraraka like originally suspected. Virescent darted over to his supervisor. No emotional change. Nothing. He remained stoic as Ochaco spoke, barely even blinking. Like he had zero remorse for the lies and chaos created.

"—the only purpose was to track, intercept, and expel rivaling gangs on Musutafu turf. The Uraraka clan strives to eliminate potential problems before they happen. Unfortunately, Shigaraki has managed to slip between our fingers at this time. That brings us to the next and final point. Shigaraki has now blatantly directed attacks upon my life twice, including a calculated ambush just a few nights ago. I am now directing this warning to the leader of the Shigaraki gang; prepare yourselves. You wish to come into my home, threaten my people, hurt them, take what you want because you believe it's rightfully yours. To that I say no more. No longer will you taint my city with your vile ways. Tomura Shigaraki…this is your one and only warning. I, Ochaco Uraraka, only daughter and child to Kenji and Fumi Uraraka, sole heir to the Uraraka throne, vow to protect Musutafu and its people at all costs. I thank you all for taking a few moments of your day."

Izuku felt like he was going to have a full-on panic attack as the screen switched from Ochaco to a scrolling notice to all citizens, detailing what to expect if things escalate. They'd done it…single-handedly in the span of ten minutes…Ochaco had declared war on Tomura Shigaraki, leader of the vicious gang terrorizing Musutafu streets. Not a single word was said as the broadcast read off the list of procedures. The cup Bakugo was holding slipped and hit the floor hard enough to spray coffee a good two feet into the air. Most of it landed on the guy who threw a tantrum earlier though he didn't seem to notice in his shocked state. Kirishima stood there with a slackened jaw and wide eyes. Not a soul moved for a solid five minutes, digesting the onslaught of news thrown directing into their faces. It wasn't until the door slammed open and a furious Chief Yagi stepped in that people jolted from their stupors.

"Midoriya, Bakugo, Kirishima. My office. Now."