Chapter Text
The estate was already in controlled lockdown by the time they arrived.
Guards at every entrance, security personnel moving with purposeful efficiency, lights blazing despite the early evening hour. The casual atmosphere Izuku had grown accustomed to over the past two weeks was gone, replaced by something harder. Military precision without the uniforms.
"Status," Mitsuki demanded as they exited the car, Ashido immediately materializing at her side.
"Perimeter secure. All personnel accounted for except—" Ashido paused, glancing at a tablet. "Three of our outer territory managers. They're not responding to calls, and their last known positions were in districts where the armed individuals were reported."
"Missing or compromised?"
"Unknown. We've sent retrieval teams, but they're moving cautiously. Could be a trap." Ashido's jaw was tight. "Whatever's happening, it's coordinated. Multiple locations, simultaneous timing, professional execution."
"Endeavor kept us busy while his people made moves," Katsuki said, his hand still gripping Izuku's tightly. "Classic misdirection. We need to—"
"War room. Now." Mitsuki was already moving, the rest of them following in formation. "I want everyone in there. Full tactical assessment. And someone get Todoroki on secure comms. If his mother gave us intelligence, he needs to know."
They filed into the war room to find it already occupied. Yaoyorozu and Iida were setting up multiple displays, their movements synchronized with practiced ease. Kirishima stood near one of the screens, his usual cheerfulness replaced by focused intensity. And at the far end of the table, looking exhausted and tense, was Todoroki.
"You're here," Mitsuki said, surprise evident in her voice. "I thought you were monitoring remotely."
"I was. Until the armed individuals started asking about me specifically." Todoroki's expression was grim. "Someone knows I'm working with you. Either Endeavor figured it out completely, or someone's been feeding him information beyond what I already suspected. Either way, my position at his organization is completely burned. Coming here was safer than staying at my apartment."
"Your mother—" Izuku started.
"I know." Todoroki's eyes met his, something raw and vulnerable flickering across his usually controlled features. "Ashido briefed me. My mother knew. Has known for months, apparently. And she protected me anyway, even though—" His voice caught slightly. "Even though it put her at risk."
"She wanted you to know she's proud of you," Izuku said quietly. "That she understands why you made the choices you did. And that she's sorry she couldn't protect you better."
Todoroki looked away, jaw working. "She shouldn't apologize. She's the one who needs protecting, and she's still trying to shield me from my father. That's—" He stopped, clearly fighting for composure. "We can discuss that later. Right now, we have bigger problems."
Yaoyorozu pulled up a map of Tokyo on the main screen, multiple locations marked in red. "These are the reported sightings of armed individuals asking questions. Seven locations total, all in territories under Bakugo protection. They're being systematic. Gathering intelligence about operational structures, security protocols, and—" she glanced at Izuku, "—specific individuals."
"They're planning an assault," Masaru said quietly. "Not just on our holdings, but on us personally. They want to know where we'll be vulnerable."
"When?" Katsuki asked.
"Soon. Within days, based on the urgency of their intelligence gathering." Iida adjusted his glasses, his expression severe. "They wouldn't move this openly unless they were close to execution. Every hour they wait increases the risk that we'll prepare adequate defenses."
"So we have maybe forty-eight hours before they strike," Mitsuki said. "Possibly less. That's not much time to prepare for a coordinated assault across multiple locations."
"Unless we don't prepare defensively," Izuku said, the strategy forming in his mind as he spoke. "Unless we use their timeline against them."
Everyone's attention shifted to him.
"They're gathering intelligence because they think we don't know they're coming," Izuku continued, moving to the map. "They think the meeting with Endeavor was a successful misdirection. That we're still operating normally, unaware of the threat. What if we let them keep thinking that?"
"Explain," Mitsuki said, though her expression suggested she was already following his logic.
"We maintain normal operations. Don't change security protocols visibly. Don't evacuate or harden defenses in obvious ways. Make it look like business as usual." Izuku traced patterns on the map. "But underneath, we're preparing. Moving assets quietly. Positioning people at secondary locations. Setting up surveillance to track their movements. And most importantly—we set a trap."
"Using what as bait?" Todoroki asked.
"Me." Izuku's voice was steady despite the fear coiling in his chest. "They're asking about me specifically? About my routines, my security, where I'll be?” Izuku asked, turning his attention to Ashido.
“That's right,” she answered hesitantly, not liking where his train of thought was going.
“So we give them that information,” Izuku continued, addressing everyone again. “Make it look like I'm vulnerable. Draw them into a controlled confrontation where we have every advantage."
"Absolutely not," Katsuki said immediately, his voice hard. "We're not using you as bait. That's—"
"Strategic," Masaru interrupted gently. "And potentially brilliant. If they're focused on Midoriya-san as a target, that concentrates their forces at a location we control. It allows us to defend a single point rather than spreading ourselves across multiple vulnerable positions."
"It also puts Izuku in direct danger," Katsuki countered, his hand tightening on Izuku's. "What if something goes wrong? What if they bring more people than we anticipate? What if—"
"What if we don't act decisively and they pick us apart over the next few months?" Izuku turned to face him. "Katsuki, I know you want to protect me. I love that about you. But we can't play defensively forever. Eventually, we have to make a stand."
"Not with you as the sacrificial lamb—"
"Not as a sacrifice. As bait with overwhelming support." Izuku kept his voice calm, reasonable. "I won't be alone. I'll have security, backup, every advantage we can provide. But I'm the piece they want. Let's use that."
Katsuki looked like he wanted to argue further, but Mitsuki spoke first.
"It's risky. Very risky. If we miscalculate—if they bring resources we haven't anticipated—Izuku becomes a genuine casualty rather than effective bait." Her eyes were calculating, weighing options. "But the alternative is worse. Playing defense against an enemy who's had weeks to plan their offense. That's a losing strategy."
"There's another consideration," Todoroki said quietly. "If they're targeting Midoriya-san specifically, it's not just about destabilizing the alliance. It's personal for someone. Endeavor doesn't do personal—he does strategic. This level of focus suggests someone else in the coalition has their own agenda."
"Who?" Iida asked.
"Unknown. But someone sees Midoriya-san as more than just a political obstacle. They see him as—" Todoroki paused, thinking, "—as a threat that needs to be eliminated specifically and permanently. That's different from normal yakuza territorial disputes."
"So we have a coalition with at least two agendas," Yaoyorozu said, making notes. "Endeavor's strategic consolidation goals, and someone else's personal vendetta against Midoriya-san. That's actually useful information. Competing interests make coordination harder."
"It also makes prediction harder," Masaru pointed out. "If we don't know all the players and their motivations, we can't fully anticipate their moves."
"Then we create conditions that force them to reveal themselves," Mitsuki decided. "We set the trap using Midoriya-san as bait. We prepare overwhelming response capabilities. And we watch to see who shows up and what they actually want. That gives us intelligence and tactical advantage simultaneously."
"I still don't like it," Katsuki said, but his tone had shifted from outright refusal to reluctant acceptance. "But I can see the logic. And if we're doing this, I'm there. Whatever security detail is protecting Deku, I'm part of it."
"That defeats the purpose," Ashido said. "If you're obviously present, they might not take the bait. They'll see it as too risky."
"Then I'm there invisibly. Hidden position. They don't see me, but I'm close enough to respond if things go wrong." Katsuki's voice was absolutely uncompromising. "That's non-negotiable. Either I'm there, or this plan doesn't happen."
Mitsuki studied her son for a long moment, then nodded. "Fine. You're there. But you follow orders. You don't reveal your position unless absolutely necessary. And you accept that sometimes the best protection is patience, not immediate action."
"Understood."
"Good. Then let's build this plan properly." Mitsuki turned back to the map. "Yaoyorozu, Iida—I need location options. Somewhere public enough to seem vulnerable but controlled enough for us to have tactical advantage. Todoroki, analyze the coalition's likely resources and approach vectors. Masaru, coordinate our defensive preparations and backup teams. Ashido, you're primary security on Midoriya-san. I want everything mapped down to the second."
"What about me?" Kirishima asked.
"You're backup security with Kaminari and Sero. Secondary perimeter. If anyone gets past Ashido, you're the next line." Mitsuki's expression was fierce. "We're not letting anyone actually reach Midoriya-san. The bait has to look real, but the protection is absolute."
They worked through the night, building and refining the plan. Location was debated extensively—too public meant civilian casualties if things went wrong, too private meant the enemy might suspect a trap. Finally, they settled on a shopping district in neutral territory. Public enough to seem like Izuku might legitimately be there, controlled enough that they could evacuate civilians and position assets without being obvious.
Timing was set for forty-eight hours out—enough time to prepare thoroughly, not so long that the enemy's intelligence gathering would make them suspicious. They'd plant information through controlled leaks, making it seem natural that Izuku would be in that location at that time.
"What's my cover?" Izuku asked as they finalized details.
"Shopping for the engagement ceremony," Yaoyorozu said. "It's believable, explains why you'd be in a public commercial area, and gives us an excuse for you to be moving between multiple shops. That creates opportunities for the enemy to strike while also giving us multiple defensive positions."
"What am I actually shopping for?"
"Doesn't matter. You'll have a list, you'll browse, you'll act naturally." Ashido pulled up surveillance photos of the district. "I'll be with you as obvious security. Kirishima's team will be scattered through the crowd, looking like civilians. Katsuki will be in an overwatch position with a clear sightline to the main street. And we'll have rapid response teams in vehicles positioned at every exit route."
"What if they don't take the bait?" Izuku asked.
"Then we've wasted forty-eight hours and need a new plan," Mitsuki said bluntly. "But I don't think that'll happen. Your father's corporate reputation, your integration into our family, your survival of the first assassination attempt—all of that makes you a valuable target. They'll come."
"And when they do?"
"We crush them." Katsuki's voice was cold, final. "We document everyone involved, we identify the coalition's resources, and then we systematically destroy their operational capacity. By the time we're done, every family that participated in this will regret it."
"That's the secondary objective," Masaru added. "The primary objective is keeping Midoriya-san safe. Everything else is bonus."
The planning session finally broke up around 3 AM. People dispersed to get what rest they could before the preparations began in earnest. Izuku found himself walking through the quiet estate with Katsuki, both too wired to sleep despite their exhaustion.
"You're really okay with this?" Katsuki asked as they reached his room. "With being bait?"
"No," Izuku admitted. "I'm terrified. But I'm also tired of being reactive. Of waiting for the next attempt. At least this way, we control the timing and the location. That's something."
"It's not much."
"It's enough." Izuku turned to face him properly. "And I trust you. I trust Ashido. I trust that if something goes wrong, you'll all be there. That's more than I had during the first attempt."
"The first attempt you handled by yourself. By killing someone." Katsuki's expression was complicated. "You've gotten really good at survival in a short time. I'm not sure if that's impressive or concerning."
"Can't it be both?"
"With you? Usually is." Katsuki pulled him into the room, closing the door behind them. "We should try to sleep. Tomorrow's going to be intense."
"I'm not sure I can. My brain won't shut off."
"Then we'll lie here awake together. That's better than lying here awake alone."
They settled into bed with familiar ease, though Izuku could feel the tension in Katsuki's body. He was wound tight, preparing mentally for what was coming, running through scenarios and contingencies.
"Kacchan?"
"Mm?"
"Whatever happens in two days—I don't regret this. Any of it. Coming here, choosing this life, choosing you. Even if it goes wrong, even if I end up—" He stopped, not wanting to voice that possibility.
"Don't." Katsuki's arm tightened around him. "Don't start thinking like that. You're going to be fine. We're going to crush whoever comes after you, and then we're going to have our engagement ceremony, and then we're going to build the life we planned. That's what's happening."
"You sound very certain."
"I am certain. Because I don't accept any other outcome." Katsuki's voice was absolutely uncompromising. "You're mine. They don't get to take you. End of discussion."
Despite the fear still coiling in his chest, Izuku smiled. "Possessive."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
"It's not. It's just very you."
"Good. Because I'm not changing." Katsuki pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "Now try to sleep. Or at least rest. Tomorrow we start preparations, and you need to be sharp."
Izuku closed his eyes, feeling the steady rhythm of Katsuki's breathing against his back. Sleep seemed impossible, but gradually, held secure in Katsuki's embrace, he drifted into something close to it.
Restless dreams filled with eyes watching from shadows.
---
The next two days passed in a blur of controlled preparation.
Information was leaked carefully through channels they knew were compromised. Casual mentions of shopping trips. Schedule details that seemed accidental but were completely calculated. They made it look natural, inevitable, that Izuku would be in that specific district at that specific time.
Meanwhile, beneath the surface, preparations intensified. Security teams ran drills. Communication protocols were tested and retested. Backup plans were developed for every possible contingency. Civilian evacuation routes were established with local authorities under the guise of a "security exercise."
Izuku trained with Ashido specifically, learning how to move in public spaces, how to respond to threats, how to trust his security detail even when every instinct screamed to run.
"If something happens, you don't fight," Ashido said firmly during one of their sessions. "You get down, you stay down, and you let us handle it. Your job is to be small and protected, not heroic."
"What if—"
"No what-ifs. You follow protocol. That's how you survive." Her expression was serious. "I know you're capable of defending yourself. You've proven that. But in a situation with multiple hostiles and friendly forces converging, the best thing you can do is not be a variable we have to account for. Let us do our jobs."
"Understood."
Katsuki spent most of his time in the war room, coordinating with tactical teams and reviewing approach vectors. Izuku watched him work, saw him transform from the person he was in private moments to the heir he needed to be publicly. Leadership settling over him like armor, comfortable and natural.
On the evening before the operation, Mitsuki called them all together one final time.
"Tomorrow, everything we've built over the past weeks gets tested," she said, looking around the room at the assembled core team. "This isn't just about protecting Midoriya-san or identifying the coalition. It's about sending a message to every family in Tokyo. That the Bakugo family doesn't accept threats lying down. That we respond to aggression with overwhelming force. That we protect our own."
She paused, her gaze settling on Izuku specifically.
"You don't have to do this. Even now, we can find another way. Use different bait, different strategy, different approach. Say the word, and we change the plan."
Izuku looked around the room. At Katsuki, whose expression was carefully neutral but whose eyes held worry. At Ashido, Kirishima, and the others who would be putting themselves at risk to protect him. At Todoroki, who'd lost everything to work against his father's corruption. At Mitsuki and Masaru, who'd welcomed him into their family despite every complication.
"I'm doing this," he said clearly. "Not because I have to. Because this is my family now. My fight. My choice."
Mitsuki's smile was fierce with approval. "Then let's make sure we win."
---
The morning of the operation dawned clear and cold.
Izuku dressed carefully in clothes that looked casual but had been specifically chosen—layers that would provide some protection without being obvious, colors that would help security track him in a crowd, nothing that would inhibit movement if he needed to run.
His back itched where the tattoo was still healing, a constant reminder of the choice he'd made. Of who he was becoming.
Katsuki helped him with the final details, his movements efficient but his expression troubled.
"You're worried," Izuku observed.
"I'm terrified. There's a difference." Katsuki's hands stilled on Izuku's collar, smoothing fabric that didn't need smoothing. "Too many variables. Too many things that could go wrong. Too much riding on you being in danger to draw out enemies."
"But you trust the plan."
"I trust our preparation. I trust our people. I trust that if things go wrong, we can adapt." Katsuki's hands moved to frame Izuku's face, thumbs brushing across his cheekbones. "But that doesn't make this easier."
"I'll be okay. Ashido won't let anything happen to me."
"Ashido's good. The best. But she's not invincible." Katsuki leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. "And if something happens to you—if they get past our defenses and I have to watch—"
"You won't. Because we're prepared. Because we're smarter than they are. Because we have something they don't." Izuku's hands came up to cover Katsuki's. "We have each other. That makes us stronger."
"That's sentimental nonsense and you know it."
"Is it? Because I think you believe it too."
Katsuki pulled back slightly, and his smile was crooked, vulnerable. "Yeah. I do." He pressed a quick, fierce kiss to Izuku's lips. "Come back to me."
"Always."
Izuku made his way to the entrance hall fifteen minutes later, where the full team was assembling. Ashido in civilian clothes that somehow still screamed "security professional." Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero dressed to blend into crowds. Multiple vehicles waiting, some obvious security, some looking like ordinary civilian cars.
Mitsuki pulled Izuku aside one last time.
"My son loves you," she said without preamble. "I don't think he's told you directly yet, not with how quick it happened. He's allergic to emotional vulnerability, but he does. Completely. Possibly obsessively."
"I know," Izuku said quietly. "I love him too."
"Good. Then you understand why you need to come back from this alive and intact. Because if something happens to you, if we lose you because of this plan, it will destroy him. And I can't—" Her voice caught slightly. "I can't watch my son go through that. So you be careful. You follow protocol. And you trust that we'll keep you safe."
"I will."
She pulled him into a brief, fierce hug. "You're family, Izuku. Remember that. Family protects family."
Then she stepped back, professional mask firmly in place. "All units, final check. Communications?"
"Secure and tested," Yaoyorozu confirmed from the war room via radio.
"Overwatch positions?"
"Staffed and ready," came Katsuki's voice from his designated location. He'd left after their talk to get into position without being seen.
"Secondary teams?"
"Positioned and waiting," multiple voices confirmed.
"Rapid response?"
"Ready to deploy on your signal," Ashido said, checking her concealed weapon one final time.
"Then we're go. Midoriya-san, Ashido—deploy to target location. Everyone else, you know your roles. Let's make this count."
They moved out in waves, vehicles departing at intervals to avoid looking like a convoy. Izuku sat in the back of a civilian car with Ashido, watching Tokyo slide past the windows and trying to keep his breathing steady.
"You okay?" Ashido asked quietly.
"Nervous. Scared. Determined." Izuku managed a slight smile. "The usual combination lately."
"That's actually the ideal mental state for this. Scared keeps you alert. Determined keeps you functional." She adjusted something in her jacket—weapon check, probably. "Remember the protocols. Stay close to me. If I say move, you move. If I say down, you get down immediately. Don't hesitate, don't question, just trust that I know what I'm doing."
"I trust you."
"Good. Because I'm not letting anything happen to you. I promised Bakugo, and I keep my promises."
They arrived at the shopping district at exactly 10 AM, the timing carefully calculated to coincide with moderate but not overwhelming crowds. Enough people for cover but not so many that civilian protection became impossible.
Izuku stepped out of the car, and immediately the world shifted into sharper focus. Every person was a potential threat. Every vehicle a possible attack vector. His training kicked in automatically, assessing, analyzing, preparing.
"Breathe," Ashido murmured beside him. "Act natural. You're just shopping for the engagement ceremony. Casual. Relaxed. Not expecting trouble."
Right. He was bait. He needed to look like bait.
Izuku forced himself to relax his shoulders, to walk with normal civilian casualness instead of the controlled awareness of someone expecting violence. They entered the first shop on their planned route—a traditional clothing store that sold formal ceremony attire.
"Can I help you?" the shop attendant asked, her smile professional and warm.
"I'm shopping for an engagement ceremony," Izuku said, the cover story coming easily now. "Traditional style, but I'm not sure exactly what I need."
"Of course! Let me show you our selection."
As she led them toward the back of the store, Ashido positioned herself with clear sightlines to both entrances, her posture relaxed but her eyes constantly moving.
In Izuku's ear, nearly invisible communication device active: "Overwatch has visual. You're clear so far."
Katsuki's voice, controlled and professional. Not the person Izuku woke up next to, but the heir managing a tactical operation.
They moved through the shopping district methodically, visiting predetermined stores, browsing with apparent casualness while every sense was heightened for threats. Izuku tried on formal jackets he had no intention of buying, discussed fabric choices he didn't care about, played the role of nervous fiancé preparing for a ceremony.
An hour passed. Then two.
"Starting to think they're not coming," Kirishima's voice came through the comm. "Street's been quiet. Normal foot traffic, no suspicious vehicles, no obvious surveillance."
"Patience," Mitsuki's voice responded. "They're either confirming the intelligence or preparing their approach. Either way, stay alert."
They were in their fourth shop—a place that sold ceremonial accessories—when Izuku felt it. The change in atmosphere. Subtle but present. Like pressure building before a storm.
"Ashido," he murmured quietly.
"I feel it too." Her hand moved fractionally toward her concealed weapon. "Overwatch, we've got something. Can't confirm yet but the crowd dynamics just changed."
"Scanning," Katsuki's voice was tight. "I see... fuck. Three vehicles just entered the district from different directions. High-end cars, tinted windows, moving with purpose. That's not normal traffic."
"All units, possible hostile approach," Mitsuki's voice cut through the comm. "Maintain positions. Let them commit before we respond."
Izuku's heart was hammering now, adrenaline flooding his system. This was it. They'd taken the bait.
"Midoriya-san, we need to move," Ashido said quietly, her hand settling on his arm. "Nothing obvious. Just browsing toward the exit. Natural movement."
They drifted toward the shop's door, Izuku's hands examining a decorative fan he didn't see, his entire focus on the street outside.
The three vehicles had stopped. Doors opening. People emerging.
Eight of them total. All male, all moving with the controlled efficiency of trained fighters. Not trying to hide their purpose anymore.
"Hostiles confirmed," Katsuki's voice was hard. "Eight targets. Armed—I can see weapons. Midoriya, they're heading for your location."
"All units converge," Mitsuki ordered. "But don't engage until we have clear civilian separation. Ashido, get him out of that shop. Use route C."
"Copy." Ashido's grip on Izuku's arm tightened. "We're moving. Stay close."
They exited through the shop's back entrance, emerging into a narrow service alley. But they'd barely taken three steps when figures appeared at both ends of the alley.
Trapped.
"Contact," Ashido said sharply into her comm. "We're cut off. They planned for route C."
"They've been watching our movements," Yaoyorozu's voice came through, analytical even in crisis. "They know our protocols. There's definitely a leak."
"Deal with that later," Katsuki snapped. "Ashido, can you break through?"
"Not without exposing Midoriya to crossfire." Ashido's weapon was out now, positioning herself between Izuku and the nearest threats. "I need backup. Now."
"Thirty seconds," Kirishima's voice. "We're coming."
Thirty seconds felt like eternity.
The men at both ends of the alley moved closer, weapons visible now. Professional grade—not yakuza street thugs but trained operatives. Everything about their movement screamed military precision.
"Midoriya Izuku," one of them called, his voice carrying clearly. "Come with us quietly and no one gets hurt. Resist and we'll take you anyway. Your choice."
"Don't respond," Ashido murmured. "Don't engage. Just stay behind me."
"We're not here to kill you," another voice added. "We're here to remove you from the situation. You're a complication that needs to be eliminated."
Izuku's analytical mind processed that even through his fear. Not yakuza rhetoric. Not territorial dispute language. This was corporate elimination speak. These weren't Endeavor's people—at least not primarily.
"They're not yakuza," he said quietly into the comm. "They're corporate. The language, the approach—this is a business hit."
"Your father?" Mitsuki's voice was sharp with sudden understanding.
"No. Someone who sees the Midoriya-Bakugo alliance as a business threat. Not a territorial one." Izuku's mind was racing. "They want to eliminate me specifically to collapse the alliance and destabilize both families. This isn't about yakuza politics. It's about corporate competitors."
"We're still twenty seconds out," Kirishima's voice was strained. "Ashido, can you hold?"
"I can hold. But they're going to try to rush us any second and when they do—"
Gunfire erupted.
Not from the men in the alley—from above. From Katsuki's overwatch position.
"Get down!" Ashido tackled Izuku to the ground, her body covering his as chaos exploded around them.
The precision of Katsuki's shots was remarkable. Three of the operatives went down immediately, not dead but incapacitated. Leg shots, shoulder wounds—disabling without killing.
"All units engage," Mitsuki's voice cut through the gunfire. "Contain but don't kill unless necessary. We need at least one alive for questioning."
The alley became a battlefield. Kirishima's team burst in from one end, weapons drawn. Sero and Kaminari from the other. The remaining operatives found themselves suddenly surrounded, their tactical advantage evaporated.
"Surrender now and you'll be treated fairly," Kirishima called out, his voice carrying authority despite the chaos. "Keep fighting and you'll regret it."
For a moment, it seemed like it might work. Like the operatives would recognize they were outmatched and stand down.
Then one of them moved toward Izuku with desperate speed, weapon raised—
And Katsuki's shot took him in the chest. Center mass. The kind of shot you don't recover from.
"No one touches him," Katsuki's voice was absolutely cold. "Next person who tries dies. I don't care about interrogation value. No one fucking touches him."
The remaining operatives froze, clearly recognizing the shift from tactical operation to personal protection. This wasn't business anymore. This was someone willing to kill to protect what was his.
"Drop your weapons," Ashido ordered, still covering Izuku but her gun trained on the nearest threat. "Now. Or Bakugo takes the shots and you all die here."
Slowly, weapons clattered to the pavement.
"Secure them," Mitsuki's voice ordered. "Get Midoriya-san out of there. And someone find out who the hell these people actually work for."
---
Twenty minutes later, Izuku sat in a secure room back at the estate, wrapped in a blanket despite not being cold, watching as Katsuki paced like a caged animal.
"You said non-lethal unless necessary," Katsuki was saying, his voice tight with barely controlled emotion. "That was necessary. He was three feet from Deku with a weapon drawn. That's lethal intent. I made the call."
"I'm not criticizing the call," Mitsuki said calmly. "I'm saying you need to breathe before you have a breakdown. You did your job. You protected him. But now you need to stand down and let us handle the next phase."
"The next phase is finding out who sent them and destroying them systematically."
"Yes. But not while you're running on adrenaline and rage." Mitsuki's expression softened. "Go. Take care of your fiancé. He just watched you kill someone to protect him. He needs you right now more than we need you in the interrogation room."
Katsuki looked at Izuku, and something in his expression cracked. "Are you okay?"
"I'm..." Izuku didn't know how to finish that sentence. "I don't know. Processing."
Katsuki crossed to him immediately, pulling him up from the chair and into a fierce embrace. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you to see that. Didn't want you to watch me—"
"You saved my life." Izuku's voice was muffled against Katsuki's shoulder. "That man was going to shoot me. You stopped him. There's nothing to apologize for."
"There's everything to apologize for. We had a plan. We had security. We were supposed to keep you safe and instead you ended up on the ground in an alley with gunfire around you and—" Katsuki's voice broke. "I almost lost you. If I'd been one second slower, if my shot had been off by an inch, he would have—"
"But you weren't. And it wasn't. And I'm here." Izuku pulled back enough to see his face. "I'm here, Kacchan. I'm okay. We're okay."
"You shouldn't have been in that situation at all. The plan was supposed to work better than that. They weren't supposed to trap you, weren't supposed to get that close—"
"They had inside information," Izuku said quietly. "About our protocols, our routes, our backup plans. Someone's been feeding them intelligence. That's not your fault."
"It's someone's fault. Someone in our organization betrayed us and you almost died because of it." Katsuki's hands were shaking now, adrenaline crash hitting him. "When I find out who—"
"We'll handle it. Together. But right now, I just need you to be here. Not the heir. Not the tactical operator. Just you."
Katsuki nodded, pulling Izuku back into his arms and holding on like he might disappear if he loosened his grip even slightly.
They stood like that for several minutes, both processing what had happened, both grateful it hadn't gone worse.
Finally, there was a knock at the door. Yaoyorozu entered, her expression grim.
"We've identified the operatives. You were right. They're not yakuza. They're corporate security contractors. Hired through a shell company that traces back to—" she paused, checking her tablet, "—Midoriya Industries."
The room went silent.
"My father," Izuku said quietly, the pieces falling into place with horrible clarity. "He hired people to kill me."
"We don't know if he knows what he hired them for," Yaoyorozu said carefully. "The shell company's legitimate. Used for security consulting. He might have hired them for protection and someone else gave them different orders. Or—"
"Or he decided that if I wasn't going to walk away from this alliance voluntarily, I needed to be removed permanently." Izuku's voice was hollow. "Save the company by eliminating the complication."
"We're not jumping to conclusions," Mitsuki said, entering the room behind Yaoyorozu. "But we are investigating thoroughly. Your father will need to answer some very pointed questions."
"He won't." Izuku's voice was flat, certain. "He'll hide behind layers of corporate bureaucracy. Claim he had no knowledge of the contractors' actual orders. Express horror that his security company was used this way. Play the victim."
"Then we make him uncomfortable enough that the truth comes out anyway," Katsuki said, his voice hard. "We apply pressure until something breaks."
"There's another possibility," Todoroki said, appearing in the doorway with Iida behind him. "The operatives weren't just corporate. Three of them have previous ties to the Toga syndicate. One was employed by the Shinsou family two years ago. This wasn't just a corporate hit—it was coalition forces using corporate contractors as cover."
"So Endeavor's coalition hired people through Midoriya Industries' security company," Yaoyorozu said, working through the implications. "That gives them deniability while also implicating Midoriya-san's father. It's a multilayered strategy designed to destroy the alliance from multiple angles."
"They eliminate Izuku, the marriage arrangement collapses, and the Bakugo family blames the Midoriya family for the betrayal," Masaru said quietly. "Meanwhile, the coalition denies involvement because the contractors were hired through legitimate corporate channels. It's actually brilliant in its cruelty."
"My father's still culpable," Izuku said. "Even if he didn't know the specific orders, he provided the mechanism. His company. His resources. His lack of oversight."
"But did he know?" Mitsuki asked pointedly. "That's the question that matters. If he genuinely didn't know his security company was being used to target his own son, that's one problem. If he authorized it—that's something else entirely."
"Either way, we need to talk to him," Katsuki said. "Tonight. Before he has time to prepare a defense or destroy evidence."
"Agreed." Mitsuki pulled out her phone. "I'll make the call. He comes here, under guard, for questioning. If he refuses, we get our answers another way."
She stepped into the hallway to make the call, leaving the others in tense silence.
"How are you holding up?" Todoroki asked Izuku quietly. "It's one thing to face external enemies. It's different when it's family."
"I don't know what I'm feeling yet." Izuku leaned into Katsuki's steady presence. "Betrayed? Angry? Numb? All of the above?"
"That's normal. When I discovered the extent of my father's manipulation, I couldn't process it for weeks. The brain doesn't want to accept that someone who's supposed to protect you is actually the threat." Todoroki's expression was empathetic. "Whatever you're feeling, it's valid. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
"Even if what I'm feeling is the desire to never speak to him again?"
"Especially that."
Mitsuki returned, her expression grim. "He's coming. But he's bringing lawyers. Lots of lawyers. He's preparing for a legal battle, not a family conversation."
"Of course he is," Izuku said bitterly. "Because that's who he is. Everything's business. Everything's strategy. Even potentially ordering his son's death."
"We don't know he ordered it," Yaoyorozu reminded him gently.
"But we know he enabled it. Through negligence or malice, he enabled it. That's enough." Izuku stood, pulling away from Katsuki's embrace. "I want to be there when you question him. I want to see his face when he tries to explain this."
"Are you sure?" Mitsuki asked. "It's going to be difficult—"
"I survived an assassination attempt today. I watched Katsuki kill someone to protect me. I think I can handle a conversation with my father." Izuku's voice was steady despite the turmoil underneath. "And he needs to see me. Needs to see what his choices almost cost."
"Then you'll be there," Mitsuki decided. "But Katsuki, you need to stay calm. I know you want to tear him apart, but we need information more than we need satisfaction. Can you manage that?"
"I can manage it." But Katsuki's expression suggested it would take considerable effort.
---
Hisashi Midoriya arrived two hours later with three lawyers, all looking prepared for corporate warfare rather than family discussion. His expression was carefully neutral—professional composure masking whatever emotions lay beneath.
"I received a call from Mitsuki-san requesting my presence regarding urgent family matters," he said, his tone cautious. "She mentioned Izuku was here and that we needed to discuss something serious."
"Sit down," Mitsuki said, her voice dangerously calm. She gestured to the chair across from where Izuku sat beside Katsuki.
Hisashi's eyes finally found his son, and something flickered across his face—concern, quickly suppressed. "Izuku. What's this about?"
"Your company tried to kill me today," Izuku said flatly.
The color drained from Hisashi's face. "What?"
"Eight security contractors," Mitsuki said, pulling up photographs on a tablet. "All employed through your security division's shell company. Armed. Trained. Sent to abduct or kill your son. They used your resources, your infrastructure, your corporate access."
Hisashi stared at the photographs, his professional composure cracking. "I—I don't understand. These are our contractors, yes, but I never authorized—"
"We know you didn't personally authorize it," Masaru said gently. "But someone in your organization did. Someone with enough authority to deploy eight armed men without your knowledge."
"That's impossible. Any deployment of that size requires my signature—"
"Does it?" Mitsuki's voice cut through his protest. "Because we have seven of those contractors in custody right now. The eighth one is dead. And they all confirmed they were hired through Midoriya Industries' security division. Official channels. Official equipment. Official orders."
Hisashi looked genuinely shocked. "Seven in custody? There was an actual attack?"
"Three hours ago," Katsuki said coldly. "While you were probably in some board meeting, your company's contractors tried to kill your son. We dealt with it."
"I need to—" Hisashi pulled out his phone, fingers shaking slightly. "I need to call Tsubasa. He's the head of security. He would know about any contractor deployments—"
"Don't." Mitsuki's voice was sharp. "Put the phone down."
"But if Tsubasa can explain—"
"Tsubasa is likely the one who authorized it," Todoroki said, pulling up data on the main display. "We've been investigating your company's structure. Your head of security has full authorization to deploy contractors for 'emergency security situations' without your direct approval. It's in the operational protocols you signed off on three years ago."
Hisashi stared at the documents. "That was for legitimate security emergencies. Protection details for executives, facility security during threats—"
"And apparently for targeting your son," Mitsuki said. "The question is whether he acted alone or whether this goes deeper into your organization."
"I don't—this doesn't make sense. Why would Tsubasa target Izuku?"
"Money, most likely," Yaoyorozu said, looking up from her laptop. "We're currently accessing your company's secure servers. Legally questionable, but given the circumstances—"
"You're hacking my company?" Hisashi's shock was giving way to anger.
"We're investigating a threat against our family," Mitsuki corrected. "And we're finding very interesting patterns. Large payments to offshore accounts. Communications with encrypted contacts. References to 'profitable partnerships' and 'removing obstacles.'"
"I want to see everything," Hisashi said, his voice tight. "If someone in my organization did this, I need to know."
"You'll see it," Mitsuki said. "But first, you need to understand something. Those contractors told us they were hired to either abduct Izuku or, if that proved impossible, eliminate him. They were told this was a sanctioned corporate operation. They believed they were following legitimate orders from Midoriya Industries."
"That's—" Hisashi looked at Izuku, really looked at him for the first time. Saw the exhaustion, the anger, the betrayal. "Izuku, I swear to you, I had no idea—"
"Didn't you?" Izuku's voice was quiet but sharp. "You built a company where someone like Tsubasa has the authority to deploy armed contractors without your oversight. You created an environment where corporate profit matters more than family. Where I was just another asset to be managed—or eliminated if more convenient."
"That's not fair—"
"Isn't it?" Izuku stood, anger finally breaking through his controlled exterior. "You used me as a bargaining chip for a marriage arrangement without my consent. You lied to Mom about why you wanted me to marry into the Bakugo family. You abandoned me to figure this out alone. And now your company—the organization you built—tried to have me killed. Where exactly am I being unfair?"
Hisashi seemed to struggle for words. "I never wanted you hurt. Whatever mistakes I've made, I never—"
"You never *thought* about whether I'd be hurt. There's a difference." Izuku's hands were shaking. "You made choices that put me in danger. You built a system that allowed this to happen. Whether you personally ordered it or not, this is your responsibility."
"You're right." Hisashi's voice was hollow. "You're absolutely right. I should have—should have protected you better."
"Sorry isn't enough," Katsuki said, his voice cold. "You need to fix this. Tsubasa needs to face consequences. Everyone in your organization who was complicit needs to be identified and dealt with."
"The contractors mentioned a coalition," Mitsuki added. "They weren't acting alone. Someone hired your security division to target Izuku. We need to know who, and we need to know everyone involved."
"I'll give you complete access so you don't have to hack your way in," Hisashi said immediately. "Every file, every communication, every person who had authority in the security division. Whatever you need."
"Starting with Tsubasa," Mitsuki said. "Now, you're going to call him. Tell him you need to meet about urgent security matters. Here. Now."
"He'll be suspicious if I ask him to come here—"
"Good," Katsuki said. "Suspicious people make mistakes. Call him."
Hisashi pulled out his phone with shaking hands and made the call. Tsubasa answered on the third ring, his voice professionally cheerful.
"Sir, is everything alright?"
"I need you at the Bakugo estate immediately. There's been an incident with our contractors and we need to discuss operational security."
A pause. "The Bakugo estate? Sir, I'm not sure that's—"
"It's not a request, Tsubasa. Get here within the hour or you're fired."
Another longer pause. "Understood. I'll be there."
Hisashi ended the call and looked at Mitsuki. "He'll come. But he's suspicious. He might not come alone."
"We're counting on it," Mitsuki said. "Anyone he brings with him is part of the conspiracy. Makes our job easier."
"What happens when he arrives?" one of the lawyers asked nervously.
"That depends on how cooperative he is," Mitsuki said. "But I'd recommend your clients stay out of the way. This is family business now, and lawyers don't determine guilt or innocence in our world."
The lawyer paled slightly but said nothing.
They waited in tense silence, Hisashi's lawyers occasionally shifting uncomfortably. Izuku sat beside Katsuki, processing everything that had happened in the past few hours.
"You okay?" Katsuki asked quietly.
"Getting there. It's a lot to process."
"Understatement of the century." Katsuki's hand found his, squeezing gently. "For what it's worth, you handled that confrontation with your father remarkably well. Better than I would have."
"You wanted to hit him."
"I wanted to do significantly more than hit him. But you kept it focused on getting information rather than vengeance. That's maturity I don't have yet."
"Give yourself some credit. You didn't actually hit him. That's growth."
Despite the circumstances, Katsuki smiled slightly. "Fair point."
Forty-five minutes later, security alerted them that Tsubasa Hizashi had arrived at the gate. Alone, as far as they could tell, though surveillance was checking thoroughly.
"Bring him to the secondary conference room," Mitsuki ordered. "Full security escort. Search him completely. And make sure he knows he's not leaving until we're satisfied with his answers."
They assembled in the conference room, positioning carefully. Mitsuki and Masaru at the head of the table. Katsuki and Izuku to one side. Todoroki at the screens, ready to display evidence. Security at the door.
When Tsubasa was brought in, his expression shifted from confusion to alarm as he took in the assembled group.
"What's going on?" he asked, looking at Hisashi. "Sir, why am I here?"
"Sit down, Tsubasa." Hisashi's voice was cold. "We need to discuss the contractors you deployed today. The ones who tried to kill my son."
Tsubasa went pale. "I don't know what you're talking about—"
"We have your communications," Todoroki said, pulling up the emails on screen. "Six months of correspondence with the Toga syndicate. Planning meetings. Payment arrangements. Authorization codes for contractor deployment. All of it."
Tsubasa stared at the screens, clearly calculating his options. "Those are privileged corporate communications—"
"Those are evidence of conspiracy to commit murder," Mitsuki said flatly. "And right now, you have exactly one chance to cooperate before things become extremely unpleasant for you."
"I want a lawyer—"
"You're in a yakuza estate, surrounded by people whose family member you tried to kill. Lawyers are adorable, but they're not going to save you." Katsuki's voice was absolutely cold. "You're going to talk. The only question is whether you do it voluntarily or whether we make you."
Tsubasa looked at Hisashi desperately. "Sir, you can't let them—"
"I can and I will," Hisashi said quietly. "You used my company to target my son. You betrayed fifteen years of trust. You put everything I built at risk for what—money? Power? Whatever the Toga syndicate offered you?"
"They offered protection! Your expansion plans were going to put us in direct conflict with established yakuza territories. I was trying to secure our position—"
"By murdering my son?"
"By removing an obstacle!" Tsubasa's professional mask cracked completely. "You were arranging a marriage that would have bound us to the Bakugo family. That meant we'd be in direct conflict with their rivals. I was approached with a solution—eliminate the complication before the marriage happened, and the Toga syndicate would ensure our business operations faced no resistance in their territories."
"So you decided my son's life was worth less than business expansion." Hisashi's voice was hollow.
"I decided that one person's life was acceptable collateral damage for the security of an organization that employs thousands. That's leadership. That's making the hard choices you're apparently too sentimental to make."
"That's murder," Katsuki said. "And you're going to pay for it."
"Am I? Because I haven't actually broken any laws. I hired contractors for legitimate security work. What they chose to do with their deployment orders is their responsibility, not mine—"
"We have seven of your contractors in custody," Todoroki interrupted coldly. "All of them are singing like canaries. Detailed statements about their orders, their briefings, their authorization codes. They've identified you as the person who hired them, briefed them on the target, and specifically authorized lethal force if necessary."
Tsubasa's confidence wavered slightly. "Contractor testimony is notoriously unreliable. They'll say whatever keeps them out of prison—"
"They had internal company communications," Yaoyorozu said, pulling up documents on her laptop. "Deployment orders with your digital signature. Equipment requisition forms you personally approved. Payment authorizations from accounts you control. We pulled all of it from Midoriya Industries' servers in the past two hours."
"That's—you can't just access confidential corporate—"
"We did," Mitsuki said flatly. "With Hisashi's cooperation. Every file in your security division is now in our possession. Every email. Every authorization. Every communication with external contacts."
"And speaking of external contacts," Todoroki continued, pulling up more data, "we found your encrypted communications with the Toga syndicate. Six months of correspondence. Discussions about 'removing obstacles to profitable partnerships.' References to 'the Midoriya complication' and 'permanent solutions.' You were very thorough in your documentation."
Tsubasa's face had gone pale. "Those communications are encrypted. Even if you have them, you can't—"
"We cracked the encryption an hour ago," Yaoyorozu said. "My family employs some of the best cybersecurity specialists in Japan. They were very motivated to help once they learned what happened."
She pulled up the communications on the main display. Messages between Tsubasa and an account identified as belonging to a Toga syndicate lieutenant. Discussions about using Midoriya Industries' resources. Negotiations over payment. Detailed planning about timing and methodology.
And most damning: a message from three days ago confirming "green light for permanent removal of primary target."
"But we don't need the encrypted messages to make our case," Katsuki said. "We have your contractors. We have your company records. We have payment trails. And we have you, sitting here, sweating because you know exactly how fucked you are."
Tsubasa looked around the room, seeing the trap fully formed around him. "If you had real evidence, you'd have called the police—"
"Who said we haven't?" Mitsuki smiled coldly. "Detective Tsukauchi is currently reviewing the evidence. He'll be here within the hour to make an official arrest. But we wanted to talk to you first. Off the record."
"Why?"
"Because you're not the mastermind," Masaru said gently. "You're a facilitator. Someone approached you with this opportunity. Someone from the coalition that's been targeting the Bakugo family for months. We want to know who."
"I don't know what you're—"
"The Toga syndicate didn't come up with this plan on their own," Todoroki said. "They're part of a larger organization. Someone coordinated this attack to destabilize our alliance with the Midoriya family. Someone who knew exactly how to leverage Hisashi's company against his own son."
"We can make this easy or hard," Mitsuki said. "Easy: you tell us everything. Who approached you. Who's funding the coalition. What other attacks are planned. In exchange, we ensure your cooperation is noted in your sentencing. You might even avoid prison if you're helpful enough."
"And hard?" Tsubasa asked weakly.
"Hard: you refuse to cooperate. You go to prison for attempted murder, conspiracy, and corporate espionage. And while you're there, word gets out that you betrayed the Toga syndicate by getting caught. That you failed to eliminate their target and led us straight to their communications. How long do you think you'd last in a prison where the yakuza have reach?"
Tsubasa went even paler. "You're threatening me—"
"We're explaining the consequences," Katsuki said. "You made choices. Now you deal with the results. The only question is whether you make this worse for yourself or whether you help us clean up the mess you created."
Silence stretched for a long moment. Tsubasa looked at Hisashi, perhaps hoping for support, but found only cold fury.
"You used my company," Hisashi said quietly. "You betrayed fifteen years of trust to target my son. Don't expect any protection from me."
"What do you want to know?" Tsubasa asked finally, defeat evident in his voice.
"Everything," Mitsuki said. "Every person in the coalition you've had contact with. Every plan you're aware of. Every piece of intelligence you've gathered. Full cooperation, or we turn this evidence over to law enforcement and you spend the next twenty years in prison."
"And if I cooperate?"
"We handle this internally. Yakuza justice instead of civilian justice. Still unpleasant, but potentially survivable." Mitsuki's expression was uncompromising. "You have five seconds to decide."
"Fine. I'll tell you everything." Tsubasa's voice was defeated. "But you need to understand—the coalition is bigger than you think. The Toga syndicate is just one piece. Endeavor's been coordinating with at least six other families. They've been planning this for months. Taking down your alliance is just the first step. They're trying to reshape the entire power structure in Tokyo."
"How many families total?" Masaru asked.
"Eight in the core coalition. Maybe another dozen providing support or resources. It's—it's huge. Bigger than any alliance I've seen in thirty years of operating security."
The room went silent as they processed the scale.
"Then we're going to need a lot more information," Mitsuki said finally. "Todoroki, Yaoyorozu—set up for extended interrogation. We're going to be here a while."
As they prepared for the long night ahead, Katsuki pulled Izuku aside.
"You should rest. You've been through enough today."
"I want to stay. I want to hear everything he knows."
"Izuku—"
"I need to know what we're facing. All of it. I can't protect myself or help protect this family if I'm kept in the dark." Izuku met his eyes. "I'm not fragile. I can handle this."
Katsuki studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay. But if it gets to be too much, you tell me. Deal?"
"Deal."
They returned to the table as the interrogation began in earnest. Hours of questioning, cross-referencing, document review. Tsubasa provided names, connections, timelines. The scope of the coalition's plans became clearer with every revelation.
By the time the sun rose the next morning, they had a comprehensive picture. Eight core families. Dozens of associated organizations. A coordinated plan to destabilize not just the Bakugo-Midoriya alliance, but the entire existing power structure in Tokyo.
"They're trying to create a new order," Todoroki said, studying the relationship maps they'd constructed. "With Endeavor at the top, controlling everything through proxies and allied families. It's—it's actually brilliant in its ambition. And terrifying."
"So what do we do?" Kirishima asked, having joined them sometime in the early morning hours.
"We break them," Mitsuki said, her voice hard with determination. "Systematically. Completely. We use everything Tsubasa's given us to turn their coalition against itself. We expose their plans. We make their alliance as toxic as ours is valuable. And we show everyone in Tokyo that trying to destroy us was the worst strategic mistake they could have made."
She looked around the room, at the assembled allies and family members, at her son and his fiancé who'd survived an assassination attempt together.
"The engagement ceremony happens as planned. In three days. We're not hiding. We're not delaying. We're going to stand in front of everyone and announce this alliance. And anyone who has a problem with it can come try to stop us." Her smile was absolutely fierce. "Let's see how that works out for them."