Two Days Later, The Tokoyami Estate


From the moment Izuku stepped into the Great Hall, he knew Toshinori had, if anything, undersold how tense this ball was going to be.

Nobody seemed to be dancing, or gathering around the live orchestra at the far end of the hall. Instead, the Japanese nobility had factionalized, gathering into little knots of perhaps five people at most that eyed each other with suspicion and wariness. Waiters flitted between the groups like bumblebees at flowers, offering food and drink that was only rarely accepted.

Izuku took careful note of the range of reactions he received as he stepped into the hall. There was fear from some, and open hostility from a smaller number; these seemed to have drawn the exact conclusion that Izuku feared most, that he'd been responsible for the assault on the Monoma Bank. Others merely nodded in respect, or remained stiffly guarded. The neutrals, or those who were too clever to openly provoke a man suspected of such duplicity.

And a few—very few—broke into warm grins. Really, only one man did—Denki Kaminari, who soon strode forwards to shake his hand.

"Ah, Lord Izuku. How nice of you to join the party," he said, still smiling. "Though I'm afraid it's not really much of a party."

Izuku surveyed the room again. "That, I can see," he replied. "It's good to see you, Lord Kaminari."

Izuku took another look around as he and Kaminari made for a spot along the outer edge of the room, away from any of the murmuring factions. "Pardon me, but where's your shadow?" he asked mildly. "I had thought Jirou would be glaring daggers at me by now."

Even as he settled back against the wall, Kaminari's jaw twitched, and he winced softly. He ran one hand through his spiky, electric blonde hair.

"Quite displeased with me, I'm afraid," he said weakly. "I swear, that woman will be the death of me someday. If my…intended doesn't get to me first."

Izuku raised an eyebrow. He'd nearly forgotten all about the fact that Lady Ibara was set to marry Kaminari. He couldn't imagine a woman like her taking kindly to Kaminari's…lover.

"Is that what happened?" he asked. "She learned that you're going to marry somebody else?"

Kaminari snorted. "Oh no, she's known about that for a while now," he muttered. "Though it is the source of my troubles. You see, I offered to break the betrothal, and marry her instead. And she refused. In fact, she called me an idiot for considering it."

Izuku's eyebrows had nearly reached the stratosphere. "What? Why?" he said. As firsthand witness to a marriage between a high lord and a common woman, he knew exactly how rare they were—and how no nobleman, not even one as obviously decent as Kaminari, would make such an offer lightly. And the thought of a woman like Jirou, whose ability to advance further than she already had in the world was almost completely blocked by her common birth, turning down the kind of wealth and power that came with becoming Lady Kaminari was practically just as unthinkable. And yet, she had, apparently with a vengeance.

In response to his blurted question, Kaminari just ran his hand through his hair again and shook his head somberly.

"I…have no idea," he admitted. In that moment, he wasn't wearing a mask, wasn't playing the games of nobility; he looked Izuku in the eye, and continued, "I told her that if she said the word, I'd throw it all away for her. I'd break the contract, I'd spit in Lady Ibara's face, I'd put my house at incredible risk if House Ibara held a grudge. I'd do it all in a heartbeat. And she told me that I was a fool to even consider choosing her. I swear, I don't understand that woman at all."

Judging by the dreamy sigh Kaminari let out as he said that last part, Izuku suspected that that very lack of understanding was something Kaminari relished. But as his own experience with relationships was more or less limited to exactly one slightly disastrous date with Shoko Todoroki, he kept his mouth shut.

After a moment, Kaminari perked back up. "Ah, but we have much better things to talk about than my troubles, don't we?" he said, clapping his hands together. "So, did you really burn down the Monoma Bank?"

Izuku was so taken aback by the abruptness of the shift in Kaminari's tone that he was caught flat-footed for a second. Finally, he took a deep breath, and said, "No."

Kaminari pursed his lips. "Well, that's unfortunate," he declared.

Izuku eyed him suspiciously. "Which part of it?" he asked.

Kaminari chuckled. "Well, I won't deny that I felt a thrill when I heard about Monoma getting taken down a notch," he admitted, "But I was mostly referring to the rumors that have already sprung up. Damn near half the nobility are convinced that you weren't satisfied by what happened in the dueling ring, so you decided to hit House Monoma where it hurts. And now most of the nobles are either too terrified of you to dare opposing you, or they're plotting some form of preemptive strike or another."

Izuku frowned. That was useful information, to be sure, but still. "How do you know all this, anyway?" he asked sharply.

Kaminari's answering smile bared sharp teeth. "There are some advantages to most of the nobility thinking you're a hapless fool, you know," he said with relish. "Particularly when I don't need to act. I may not be a strapping mountain of muscle like you, but I have my own skills. Such as being a very good listener when people begin saying things that they probably shouldn't while I'm in earshot."

The more Kaminari talked, the more Izuku came to understand just what a good idea it had been to cultivate him as an ally. And even barring that, he was nearly tempted to introduce him to Bakugo. However that interaction went, it was sure to be hilarious.

For now, though, there was business to attend to. "So, how bad is it tonight?" Izuku asked, gesturing towards the hall.

Kaminari's eyes darkened. "Bad," he said. "They're breaking into alliances. The big ones are mostly along marriage ties for now—Ashido and Kirishima is probably the strongest one there. Their only competition would be Kendo and Monoma, but they're not here."

Izuku's gaze narrowed. "They're not?" he asked. Now that he scanned the hall, he saw that it was true. There was no hint of Itsuka's distinctive orange hair.

Kaminari shook his head. "Nope," he confirmed. "No sign of Lady Itsuka, no sign of any of the Monomas, not even any minor functionaries or members of cadet branches. Nobody does that. Even if you can't attend, you send somebody to stay on top of the latest rumors. Them being completely absent could mean a few things. None of them are good."

Izuku nodded. So, best to be on his guard tonight. "Anything else interesting happening?"

Kaminari considered for a moment. "Oh, yes," he said eventually. "Nobody's heard anything from the Monomas, but Lord Iida's heir is here. Seeing as you're also now the primary suspect in the attack they suffered, I imagine he'll want to talk to you."

Izuku frowned, already drawing breath to respond to that. Before he could, however, Kaminari pointed. "Oh, look!" he said cheerfully. "Here he comes now!"

Izuku turned, just in time to see Lord Tenya Iida, heir to the House of Iida, striding towards him.

Izuku had met him before, but only briefly; his impression had been of a man with a stick so far up his ass it may as well have been his spine. That impression didn't shift as Lord Iida came to a halt in front of him. He was a tall, well-built man, with a severe cut to his hair and an even more severe line to his jaw. His face wasn't particularly expressive, but his eyes were narrowed, and his body language was stiff and displeased.

"Lord Midoriya," he said formally. "Might we speak for a moment?"

Izuku knew better than to turn him down. Barely registering Kaminari behind him, he met Lord Iida's eyes and nodded.

"Of course, Lord Iida," he said cautiously. "What would you like to discuss?"

Iida's eyes were cold and dark. He was silent for a moment, considering. He folded his arms behind his back, something in his posture reminding Izuku of Sir Nighteye.

Then, he said, "You're a brave man to come here tonight. Or maybe just a fool."

Izuku's eyes narrowed. He didn't detect actual malice in the other man's voice, but he wasn't much in the mood for beating around the bush, either. "Say what you mean," he demanded, his voice gruff and clipped.

That seemed to suit Lord Iida just fine. "Half these people think you beat a fellow lord nearly to death in public, then destroyed his House's crown jewel," he replied, still stiff as steel. "And yet here you stand, looking entirely unbothered by their glares."

Izuku snorted. "I've been glared at a lot in my life," he replied. "Turns out that I prefer it to getting shot at."

Iida raised an eyebrow. "That may well be in the cards as well," he said, the mild tone of his voice a sharp contrast against the darkness of his words. "Or have you forgotten that everyone here has their own personal army?"

He nodded sharply towards the clustered groups of nobles, all eyeing each other with deadly suspicion.

Izuku wasn't intimidated, precisely, but he did decide that if Iida was being so sharp, maybe he should be, too. "Including you," he pointed out.

Iida gave a curt, dry nod. "Including me, yes. Which is the issue. You see, regardless of what happened with House Monoma, we were the first ones struck."

Izuku put the pieces together in an instant. "Ah. And you think I did that, too?" he asked, crossing his arms.

Iida's lips drew together in a thin, razor-sharp line. The tall, imposing man replied, "The prime suspect in one House's attempted crippling naturally rises to the forefront of suspicion for another, yes."

Izuku fought back the urge to sigh. Instead, he maintained tight control of his voice as he said, "Would it matter if I told you that I didn't have anything to do with the attack on the Monoma Bank?"

"That depends entirely on whether or not I believe you," Iida answered.

Izuku decided to go for the throat. "And do you?" he asked, the evenness in his voice concealing danger in a way he had learned long ago.

Iida held his gaze for a long, silent moment. Izuku didn't flinch, didn't show the slightest hint of hesitation. Neither did Iida.

At last, Iida let out a quiet breath. "I have yet to decide," he said evenly. "However, even that may not matter as much as I wish it to."

Izuku frowned. "What do you mean?"

Iida's eyes darkened even further, until they faintly crackled. "The robbery of our train is not the first insult House Iida has suffered in recent years," he said. "Are you familiar with what happened to my elder brother?"

Izuku blinked. He recalled vague allusions to some terrible fate suffered by the scion of the Iida family, but the nobility seemed content to merely whisper in the corners about such things, lest they become reminders of their own mortality. Another reason for Izuku to dislike these soft, delusional aristocrats. He sighed, and admitted, "No."

Iida nodded, as if to himself. "Tensei was the original heir to the House," he said, by way of explanation. "Brave, intelligent, dynamic…he would have made a great Lord. I looked up to him. And then he was found dead."

Izuku saw something shift in Iida's eyes, just for a moment. For that moment, Tenya Iida was not the last son and heir of a Great House, but a mourning younger brother, still battling his grief. "I see," he said softly. "You have my condolences."

Just as quick as they had softened, Iida's eyes hardened into steel all over again. "I would rather you understand my point," he said sharply. "The murder of my elder brother demanded vengeance. But we never found his killer. We barely even found him-they had to identify Tensei from dental records. We would have wiped his killers from the earth. But instead, we were denied even that. And that wound, that need for vengeance, it has lingered ever since. Now that we have been attacked again? My father will go to war over it. And I will not stand in his way."

A chill passed through the air between them–or maybe that was just the ice in Izuku's blood. "But who would you declare war on?" he asked.

Finally, an emotion managed to crack Iida's statuelike facade for more than a split second. Wry, dark humor spread across his face, a form of gallows humor that Izuku instantly recognized from Mercy's Bar. The smile of a man who knew exactly what awaited him on the other side of a door, and wanted desperately not to open it.

"That is precisely the question, isn't it?" Iida sighed. "There are few things in this world worse than misplaced vengeance. I have no intention of making more enemies than I can handle. Particularly not of a man like yourself."

Well. Good to know Izuku's display against Monoma had done something to give other Houses pause. Still…

"You're dancing around something," Izuku nearly snapped. "Say it."

Despite the fact that Izuku's curtness could technically be seen as unthinkably rude to a fellow heir of a Great House, there was no sign of irritation on Iida's face. Instead, he simply replied, "I have a message for you, from my father to yours. Give us names, and our vengeance will be swift, targeted, and quiet. We will not start a broader war. Aid us in this, and House Iida shall stand beside you, whatever comes."

There was something to that last sentence, to the way Iida said it; it felt more like an oath, like his voice rang with the gravity of history in every syllable. Izuku couldn't spare his focus to consider it. "And if we can't?" he asked, still giving nothing away.

Iida shrugged, and there was a weight to this gesture, too, all the dread and fear that comes when the tides of war began to rise and no living man could seem to stop it. "Then there is nothing more to say," he said simply. There was blood in his voice, blood and death and War itself, and Izuku felt it like the embrace of an old friend he'd hoped never to see again.

He took a deep breath. "I will...let my father know," he said, knowing that his own voice certainly mirrored the desperate hope in Iida's.

Iida bowed low, bending at the waist in a way that even Izuku realized was loaded with significance far beyond a simple gesture between two Lords. "You have my thanks," he said formally, before his voice softened again as he straightened. "And, from one man to another...I do believe you. Thank you, Lord Midoriya. I would like very much to not be your enemy."

Izuku couldn't help the smile that crossed his face, despite the weight of the conversation. "The feeling is mutual, Lord Iida," he said.

Iida bowed again, and finally excused himself, striding away with a lighter step than he had approached with. Kaminari suddenly made himself known again as Izuku watched Iida leave.

"Well," the yellow-haired man declared. "I knew sticking around you was going to be interesting, but I didn't expect it to be "watching-the-Japanese-political-landscape-change-forever" interesting."

Izuku blinked. "Surely it wasn't that dramatic," he said mildly. "Deadly serious, sure, but I don't see what you're talking about."

Kaminari gave him a deadpan stare easily the equal of anything Izuku had ever experienced from Bakugo or Uraraka, who he had thought were the undisputed masters of deadpan stares.

"If I understood that correctly, Lord Iida basically just declared that his House will obey your orders," he replied. "That's damn near swearing vassalage, Lord Midoriya. With the backing of one or two more Great Houses, you and your father could declare yourself kings, if you wanted to."

Izuku needed a second to process that. "Oh," he said at last. "That feels…"

Kaminari finished the thought for him. "Earth-shattering?" he said, his tone making it obvious that it was a bemusingly dry understatement. "Epochal? History-changing? Fucking hilarious? Yeah. It is. Unfortunately, if I start laughing, I fear I won't be able to stop, so please, forgive my lack of appropriate reaction."

Izuku…had no idea what to say. He barely tolerated being a noble at all. The mere mention of the word "King" terrified him speechless.

That speechlessness, it turned out, was the perfect opening for another voice to enter the conversation. A terrifyingly familiar voice, at that.

"I find myself in a rather odd position," the voice said. "I agree with Lord Kaminari."

Izuku and Kaminari whirled. When they saw who it was, they both went pale–for very different reasons.

Standing there, in a dress as black as night, was Shoko Todoroki in all her glory. Her eyes were bone-chillingly cold, her face a perfect mask that let nothing hide. As she studied Izuku, he felt more picked-apart than he ever had, even on that first heady night all those months ago.

He found himself reminded again that this was the woman he'd fallen into natural, easy banter with, that he'd begun to court. Beneath the grins and the humor and the stories was a cold, calculating predator, a woman who had been quite honest with him about how she saw him. There was a deadliness in her eyes when she looked at him, one he recognized from the dying moments of their last encounter.

He realized a second later that Kaminari had already vanished. Smart man. That left him alone before those mismatched eyes, like a rabbit facing down a lion.

"Lord Midoriya," Shoko said, in a voice like a winter storm. "I find this hall terribly stuffy all of a sudden. Might you escort me outside to the gardens?"

Izuku summoned up all the strength he could. He'd need it for this conversation, he could already tell.

"It would be my honor," he managed, extending an arm. Shoko took it with all the menace of someone drawing a sword.

Entwined, they swept from the hall, away from the deadly tension of the nobility and into the quiet world beyond.

Neither of them noticed the way every eye in the room followed them as they disappeared.


The gardens were, naturally, beautiful. Immaculate landscapes rolled out all around the Tokoyami manor, full of gorgeous foreign flowers and perfectly-kept hedges. In the last dying light of sunset, it was like walking through the Garden of Eden.

Izuku, though barely noticed. He was too on edge from Shoko's presence beside him. She seemed…quiet tonight. She wasn't laughing, wasn't smiling. Perhaps it was just the same grimness that everyone seemed to be feeling tonight…but Izuku didn't think so. There was a coldness to Shoko's demeanor, a determination.

He recalled the way they'd last parted, and got even more uneasy. Had something about their conversation about Touya caused this?

And yet, for all Shoko's coldness, Izuku didn't think that the spark they both felt was gone, exactly. It was more like…they were both scared to acknowledge that it still existed, because if they did, it would flare into something stronger.

Shoko didn't speak until they were deep into the gardens, far from any potential eavesdropper. "So, how was your conversation with Lord Iida?" she asked.

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "I get the feeling you already know the answer," he said dryly, having long since learned to follow Shoko's twisting lines of thought. "How much of it did you overhear, anyway?"

Seeing that she'd been caught out again, Shoko's lips twitched upwards. Still walking arm-in-arm with him, she looked him over, and finally let herself grin.

"Enough," she said lightly. "Enough to know that you learned how to play the game while I wasn't looking."

Izuku couldn't help but match her smile with one of his own. There was no humor in either of their smiles–but the act itself still felt natural in a way that could have become a deadly trap with terrifying ease. "What can I say?" he replied. "I'm a quick study."

Shoko hummed thoughtfully. "So it would seem," she agreed.

She fell silent again, just long enough for them to round the corner of a hedgerow and come upon a small but beautiful fountain. Izuku didn't dare lower his guard to enjoy it.

That proved to be the correct decision a moment later, when Shoko asked, "So. Why did you beat such a hasty retreat from our dinner yesterday? I was quite enjoying myself."

Izuku maintained his grip on himself only by the narrowest of margins. Pulling himself together, he replied, "I apologize, Lady Shoko. My father had requested my presence at home."

Even as it left his lips, Izuku braced for Shoko to rip holes in his lie, to see through him like he was made of glass.

Instead, she said nothing. Her lips drew into a thin line, and then all expression slipped from her face, flawless ice coating her features.

She didn't speak again for several minutes as they worked their way through the garden, further out into the endless dark.

"Do you recall our little game?" she asked eventually. "One secret a night?"

Izuku's blood froze. "I do," he admitted.

Shoko turned her head, and her mismatched eyes bored into him, burning like flares in the dark. Izuku nearly forgot how to breathe. Shoko's eyes could practically glow when she wanted them to, and the effect was as mesmerizing and beautiful as it was intimidating.

"Tell me…what would you do if I asked for the truth as my secret?" she asked, her voice cold as winter. Izuku didn't bother to ask what she was talking about. They both knew. "Would you run away like you did before?"

Izuku was silent for what felt like an eternity, his heart thumping in his chest. At last, he spoke. "I…well, I suppose I would use my request for a secret to ask why, first."

Something flashed in Shoko's eyes. Disappointment, maybe. Or respect. Maybe both.

"You have learned the game," she sighed. "And here I had hoped you might stay as easy to read as you were that first night. Alas, you never do seem to stop surprising me, Lord Izuku."

Izuku tilted his head. "The feeling is quite mutual, Lady Shoko," he said softly. "You remain the most fascinating thing in this country to me."

Shoko's eyes danced as she turned on him, the two of them once again out of sight of any servant or noble, out among the hedges with the faint sounds of music coming from the manor at the top of the hill.

Alone. Just them. The rest of the world fading into the background.

They weren't walking anymore, though their arms were still linked. Shoko used that link to pull herself close to Izuku, stopping him in his tracks as she pressed close, closer than any code of propriety would ever have allowed.

"You do have such a way with words," she breathed. "Particularly with the woman you're still courting."

Izuku didn't dare move. Hell, he barely dared to breathe. Shoko, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, was so close to him he could feel the heat of her body against his. She was the perfect height to fit her head into the curve of his neck; she slotted against him like they had been made for each other.

And still, her eyes danced with that electric laughter. "I'll get the truth out of you one way or another, you know," she murmured, voice low and suggestive.

"This is dangerous," Izuku realized. The Lady of House Todoroki clearly had an angle here. They were well out into the gardens now, away from witnesses. Whatever happened here, it would be only between them.

Or it would be her word against his.

And yet, for all that…at his core, Izuku was still a danger junkie.

He grinned. "Oh?" he asked, just guarded enough to let Shoko read whatever she wanted into the tone of his voice. "And what other ways are there?"

It seemed that Shoko liked that response. She laughed softly as she leaned in closer. "There are many," she replied. "Some quite unpleasant…and some downright enjoyable."

As she spoke, her hand traced a path across Izuku's chest and collarbone. His skin burned wherever she touched, not with the heat of her fire, but with his own.

In an act of supreme willpower and control comparable to summoning the strength of One For All, he merely raised an eyebrow at Shoko. "Really?" he asked. "And here I thought you were supposed to be a virtuous noblewoman. Such words could be seen as…unbecoming of a woman like you."

Shoko's eyes twinkled, and she smiled sweetly. "Virtue is a weapon, like everything else," she replied easily. "One I consider rather clumsy and blunt."

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "And trying to seduce me into telling you what you want to hear is your idea of a finely honed blade?"

Shoko snorted. "Hardly," she answered smoothly. "But I recall us discussing how even blunt weapons can be useful. Especially when your opponent has a particularly thick skull."

So. She really was being obvious about it. Clearly, Shoko really wanted to find out what he knew. But as she hadn't answered Izuku's question, he remained determined not to answer hers.

"I see," he said, still grinning. "Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not going to fall over myself so easily, Lady Todoroki."

Gently, he pulled back, breaking Shoko's grip on him and making her straighten again, some semblance of separation restored. If only it didn't feel as if that separation could collapse again in an instant, and drag Izuku to his doom.

Another woman might have looked insulted at Izuku's resistance to her…charms. Shoko seemed excited. Or at least, her eyes were gleaming brightly as she put her hands on her hips, laughter slipping from her mouth.

"I would have been sorely disappointed if you did," she admitted. "You really are magnificent, Lord Izuku. Not many men would have been able to resist me, you know that, right?"

Izuku chuckled. "I'm glad to see your opinion of yourself wasn't harmed by my words, Lady Shoko," he replied.

Shoko's grin sharpened as she tilted her head coyly. "Not yet," she said, "But if you continue to resist me so easily, that might just change. It's hard for a woman to not feel insecure in her charms when they don't seem to work, you know."

"Nothing about this is easy," Izuku thought to himself. Outwardly, though, he just snorted. "I highly doubt that," he scoffed. "You are the most beautiful woman in the world, Lady Todoroki."

In response to that, Shoko's expression grew even more…Izuku hated to constantly think of Shoko as predatory, but there was really no other way to describe the look on her face. She looked like she wanted to fucking eat him.

"The world, you say?" she asked, a finger briefly tapping her lip. "That's a very bold statement. How many women have you met, again?"

Izuku spoke without even thinking, their banter had become so natural. "How much of the world have you seen?" he shot back.

Shoko's laughter felt a little more genuine, then, if only out of surprise. She regained control quickly, but for a heartbeat, Izuku thought he heard a little of the real Shoko's laughter; a deep, full-bodied guffaw, rather than the noblewoman's chirping titter.

"Point taken," she conceded. "But I do have to say–"

Izuku never did find out what she would have said. At that moment, they both heard an unmistakable sound, one that did not belong anywhere near this party or this electric moment.

The chopping of helicopter rotors.

Izuku pinpointed the sound instantly. "There," he said, pointing out into the night at a line of barely-visible lights coming towards the manor.

"What the–" Shoko hissed, before whirling towards Izuku again. There was no playfulness in her voice now, no simpering, no seduction. Lady Todoroki was all business, and cold as ice, as she said, "They're coming in to land by the front of the manor. We need to reach them before they get a chance to make their move."

Izuku nodded. "Who are they?" he asked, even as he bent his knees to run.

Shoko shook her head. "I don't know for sure," she admitted. "But if they're what I suspect…then we only have one chance to stop a war from breaking out tonight."

Izuku didn't need to hear anything else. He summoned One For All–not all of it, just a fraction, enough to not draw undue attention–and moved.


As they raced towards the landing helicopters, Izuku discovered something else about Lady Shoko that deeply terrified him: she could run like the fucking wind in heels and a ball gown.

How she managed it, Izuku had no idea, but she damn near kept pace with him as they sprinted in from the gardens, reaching the front entrance of the manor in mere minutes.

It was a good thing they arrived when they did, too. The last of the helicopters had just landed, far enough to not have alerted those within the manor itself of their approach, but close enough that both Shoko and Izuku could recognize those piling out as armed soldiers.

Those soldiers briefly froze as Izuku's lightning flared in the darkening night. One or two raised weapons, but before they could do more than brandish them, an all-too-familiar voice called out, "Hold!"
Another figure stepped out of one of the helicopters. Despite wearing dark, bulky armor rather than formal wear, the shock of orange hair made Izuku recognize her instantly.

Shoko stepped forwards, her voice cold as ice as she said, "Lady Itsuka. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Lady Itsuka Monoma stepped out in front of her troops, removing her helmet as she did so. Izuku's eyes darkened when he saw the look on her face; it was deadly and hateful, and not quite sane.

This was dangerous. Itsuka looked half-mad with rage and paranoia, and she'd seen her husband disassembled in front of her just a few days ago. That wasn't a mindset that lended itself to making wise decisions. And she had four gunships full of heavily armed soldiers with guns pointed straight at Izuku and Shoko.

Itsuka's teeth flashed in the darkness as she hissed, "What does it look like I'm doing, Lady Todoroki?"

Shoko's only tell was the tightening of the skin around her eyes. "It seems to me that you're about to do something very stupid," she said coldly. "I pray that you aren't planning what I think you're planning."

Itsuka growled. "And what, pray tell, does the Queen Bitch of Japan think I'm planning?" she snapped, voice dripping with disdain.

Shoko gave no reaction to the clumsy insult. "I think you're about to start a war," she said in a harsh, clipped voice.

Itsuka let out a deranged bark of laughter. "I'm ending a war!" she retorted. "A war the man you've been slobbering over started! He attacked my husband, and then destroyed the Monoma Bank when that failed to humiliate us enough!"

Itsuka's head whipped towards Izuku, and he saw just how horribly controlled the anger in her eyes was. This wasn't a woman who was deranged, like he'd thought; this was a woman in full control of herself, who'd made the only decision that seemed logical to her, who had been pushed too far.

Somehow, that was more terrifying.

"You broke his spine, you monster," Itsuka choked out. "The—the doctors say he might never walk again. But that wasn't enough for you, was it? You had to destroy us."

Izuku held the noblewoman's gaze as levelly as he could. "I will not apologize for what happened in the duel between myself and Lord Neito," he said quietly, rigidly. "The man knew the risks of insulting me, and paid the price in an honest duel. I offer him my best wishes in his recovery. But I did not order the attack on the Monoma Bank, Lady Itsuka. I swear it to you."

Itsuka snorted. "I don't believe you," she replied simply. "How can I? Who else would have done it? You had the means and the motive, and the opportunity comes easy to a man with resources like yours. But if you really didn't do it, tell me who did. Give me names, and I will turn these gunships around."

Izuku said nothing. After all, he couldn't. He didn't know who'd attacked the Monoma Bank.

Itsuka nodded. "You can't, can you?" she asked scathingly, before returning her attention to Shoko. "Do you see what he really is, this man of yours? He's a monster!"

Shoko still showed no emotion on her face. "Regardless of what he is or isn't, I still don't understand your plan here," she said stoically. "Do you really think this won't backfire? Tell me, do you believe House Tokoyami will take kindly to an attempted murder of guests under their protection? That all the other Great Houses will simply sit there while you start a firefight at a party all their heirs are attending?"

Itsuka scoffed. "Of course not," she replied. "That's why, once I'm done with him, you and all the other noble heirs here will be coming with me. As insurance, you see. Hard to declare a House War when my family holds the futures of all the Great Houses hostage."

Finally, Shoko's poker face faltered, and she showed her first true reaction—or at least, she allowed it to show her first reaction: deep, simmering disdain.

"I see," she replied. "And I, along with all the others, will simply go along with this because you brought a handful of men with guns? It seems that I must apologize to you, Lady Itsuka. All these years, I respected you, because I believed you weren't a fool. It seems I was wrong."

Itsuka's eyes narrowed. "And it seems that I must apologize to you as well, Lady Shoko," she answered. "I've always thought you were an evil, cold-hearted bitch, but I believed it was because of what your mother did to you. Now I see that she just recognized you for what you were."

Shoko's eyes flared open. She started to smoke, but the soldiers leveled their guns, and she was forced to simmer down, her jaw visibly clenched.

Looking victorious, Itsuka turned back to Izuku, who was standing very still, his eyes tracking the movement of the soldiers who had fanned out in a crescent shape around him and Shoko.

"Well?" Itsuka spat, her eyes blazing with dangerous fury. "Do you have something to say for yourself, Lord Midoriya? Or are you going to let me claim restitution for what you did to my husband and our House?"

The mad gleam in Itsuka's eye, coupled with the guns in her soldiers' hands, made it quite obvious what kind of restitution she intended to claim.

Izuku took a deep breath, and closed his eyes for a moment.

When they opened again, it was Titan's voice that came from his mouth, lips curling into a lazy smile.

"I actually had a question for you, Lady Monoma," he said, still smiling. "Do you know how fast a bullet moves?"

Itsuka blinked. For a brief moment, the anger on her face was replaced by confusion.

"I'll take that as a no, so I'll do you a favor and tell you," Izuku said breezily, nodding towards the rifle clutched in the nearest soldier's hand. "That there is a standard-issue M4 service rifle, with a muzzle velocity just under nine hundred meters per second. A damn good rifle—I've killed enough men pointing them at me to know that. I'd put the distance between me and that gun at…twenty meters or so. If he pulls that trigger, I've got about, what? Point-zero-two seconds, give or take, before the bullet hits me?"

Itsuka's eyes began to narrow. "Why are you saying this?" she demanded suspiciously.

Izuku's lips curled back, revealing gleaming white teeth. It wasn't a smile, despite the thin veneer of gentlemanly humor—it was too predatory for that.

"Because I have a followup question for you, Lady Monoma," he said. "How fast do you think I can move?"

Itsuka was silent. Izuku, sensing the moment, pushed.

"Let me put it this way," he continued. "You give that order, one of two things happens. Either your bullets are faster, in which case we die…or I'm faster. Believe me when I say that it will be a very close race. And if I win, I promise you one thing, Lady Monoma: I will make what happened to your husband look like a love tap."

Itsuka held Izuku's gaze, steely-eyed. Her soldiers were less impressive; Izuku detected a tremble in the hands of more than one of them. They glanced at each other, hesitating just for a moment.

Izuku did not spare them another look. He focused all the power of his deadly gaze on Itsuka.

"Point-zero-two seconds, Lady Monoma," he repeated. "You're going to wager everything on that?"

The silence that followed felt infinite, in its own small way. An eternity passed in the space between heartbeats, with gun barrels leveled and lightning crawling through blood vessels. A nation in the balance, hanging over the abyss.

Izuku clenched his fists. And then, at last, Itsuka's eye twitched.

"This isn't over," she hissed. She gestured curtly to her men, who slowly lowered their rifles.

Izuku snorted. "I'm sure it isn't," he said. "But this idiocy is. Now, run along before you start a goddamn war, Lady Monoma."

Itsuka snarled at him, but said nothing more. Instead, the Monoma soldiers returned to the helicopters and lifted off. Itsuka followed them, and the last helicopter finally departed. Soon, there was no sign they had ever been there at all.

Only then did Izuku let out the breath he'd been holding. Shoko looked at him with a somber expression, albeit one tinged with her usual bemused mask.

"Well," she declared. "We've officially made enemies of two Great Houses."

Izuku crossed his arms. "And stopped an attack that would've plunged Japan into chaos," he pointed out.

Shoko held his gaze for a long moment, her face giving nothing away. At last, she cracked a smile.

"Welcome to the game, Lord Izuku," she said mildly. "I must say, that was brilliantly done."

Izuku snorted. "I appreciate it, Lady Shoko," he replied. "I'm just glad it ended there."

Shoko hummed. "It hasn't," she sighed. "Lady Monoma won't back down. She knows that we'll never forget this. She's stuck on her course now. I fear that we only delayed things."

Izuku nodded. "It's still a victory," he said. "Even if it's only temporary."

Shoko's face slowly split into a smile. "It is a victory," she agreed. "Especially since it buys us time for something very important."

Izuku blinked. "And what is that?" he asked mildly, already concerned.

He was right to be. Shoko's smile grew dangerous in a heartbeat, loaded with meaning as she said airily, "Oh, it's nothing, really. But have you forgotten that we're courting?"

Izuku went very still. Shoko grinned even wider.

"I will see you tomorrow for dinner," she said airily. "Six o'clock, on the dot. Do not be late."

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "Will you be attempting to seduce me again?" he asked.

Shoko laughed. "The word attempt implies that I'll fail," she replied, hands on her hips. "And after what you just did, I assure you, I'll be pulling out all the stops. Farewell, Lord Izuku."

With that, she turned and left.

Izuku couldn't afford to spend much time worrying about just what Shoko had in store for him. He had reports to give, and a message to bring to his father–along with information on what had just happened. There were countless political concerns he'd have to consider.

But surely he could spare a little time to be worried. He was pretty sure he should be.