128Twelve Hours Later, Yagi Command Center
Shoko stared at the doctor, then back at the too-still figure on the bed, surrounded by sterile, beeping machines.
"A coma?" she said, trying to process what she'd just been told. She couldn't take her eyes away from Momo Yaoyorozu's deathly pale face. If not for the ever-so-slight rise and fall of her chest, she would've thought her oldest, closest ally was dead.
As it was, Momo just looked…small. Dwarfed by the too-clean room and the uncaring machines hooked up to her. Breathing tubes and IV lines and all manner of other medical devices Shoko couldn't name, all of them fighting to keep her alive.
The doctor nodded. He was a gray-haired man, severe and stern-looking, save for the wrinkle lines around his eyes that suggested he smiled often. He wasn't smiling now.
"She was nearly dead when she reached us," he said, flipping through the pages on his clipboard. "Gunshot wound through the shoulder, multiple broken ribs, severe blunt force trauma, a serious concussion…not to mention the smoke inhalation. We've treated the most serious injuries, and she's stable, but we decided to keep her in a medically induced coma for the moment."
Shoko nodded slowly. Beside her, the warm, oddly reassuring presence of a man she still surprised herself by trusting shifted.
Izuku laid a hand on Shoko's shoulder, as if to reassure her. "How long will she be out?" he asked.
The doctor consulted his clipboard again for a moment, then shrugged. "That's largely up to how quickly she heals," he replied. "But I expect it'll be a while. From what I understand, the only reason she survived being buried under that building was because she managed to create a shield for herself just before the structure collapsed. Even with all the support Lord Yagi has given us to aid in her recovery, some things simply have to take their time."
Izuku nodded, and thanked the doctor, who, as he'd said, was a House Yagi asset—Toshinori had had Momo, the last surviving member of her House, brought to a secure medical facility within the Yagi command center more or less as soon as she'd been found in the smoldering ruins of the Yaoyorozu estate.
Not that Momo had much of a House left. With the estate destroyed and both her parents dead along with most of her House Guard, whatever remained of House Yaoyorozu's assets was evaporating like morning dew in a wildfire. There'd doubtless be hidden contingencies and secret reserves squirreled away that Momo knew how to access in an emergency, but as a cohesive, organized institution, House Yaoyorozu was destroyed.
And still, even as the doctor took his leave, Shoko found herself staring at the limp form of the woman she'd so recently driven away, and found herself wondering what she could have done differently. If she had been less wrapped up in her growing attraction to Lord Izuku, would she have been able to protect Momo? Would she have made a difference?
Did she even care? She'd fought so hard to keep Momo at a distance, to think of her as an ally and not a friend; she'd thought herself safer for it, more in control.
And now she wasn't so sure.
Izuku's hand, rough and scarred, laced into hers, so smoothly it almost—almost—felt natural. It didn't, but Shoko let it happen anyway.
"Are you alright?" he asked softly.
Shoko was quiet for a moment, thinking. Even after her outburst last night, when Izuku had managed to make her crack for the first time in her life, she still didn't suddenly feel warm and cuddly. She simply wasn't warm and cuddly, and she certainly wasn't in tune with her feelings. She was a cold, stoic woman, icy and largely amoral, and she knew it. She wasn't sure she wanted to change that. She wasn't sure if she could change that.
But even so…she had to admit that staring down at the bright, vivacious woman she'd grown so close to over the years and seeing her almost totally lifeless, kept alive by machines in a hospital bed, left her a little less sure of herself than she usually was.
For all that, though, she was still Lady Todoroki. Her eyes narrowed, ever so slightly.
"Is this how it's going to be, now?" she asked mildly, glancing down at Izuku's hand interlaced with hers. "You hovering over me, ready to offer support every time I encounter difficulty?"
Izuku raised an eyebrow. He didn't move his hand. "Would you prefer it if I wasn't here?" he asked.
Shoko sighed. After a brief internal struggle, she decided to be—ugh—honest.
"I don't know what I would prefer," she admitted. "But I've had enough of sitting here. We have work to do."
She stood, her hand slipping from Izuku's. He followed her a moment later.
"What work?" he asked.
Shoko half-turned back to him, and his eyes widened at the look on her face.
It was hate. Hate, and blood, and ice. A promise like no other.
"Momo Yaoyorozu was mine. Someone tried to kill her," she said softly. "So now, when I find them, they're going to die."
With that, they left the room, leaving only the beeping machines to keep Momo's still form company.
As Shoko and Izuku stepped out into the hallway, a figure rose from a leaning position beside the door.
"About fuckin' time," the spiky-haired blond man declared. "Were you morons too busy sucking face to remember there's a whole-ass war going on?"
Shoko blinked, taken aback so completely that for once she simply didn't have a retort ready to go. "Excuse me?" she said, eyes narrowing.
Before she could demand to know who the hell this man thought he was, Izuku stepped past her in a blur, reached out with a hand, and slammed the other man against the wall by the front of his leather jacket. Shoko reared back in alarm as the whole hallway shook.
Green lightning flickered from Izuku's temple as he hoisted the blond man up higher. The man seemed shockingly unconcerned for a man currently being accosted by the most powerful lord in Japan.
"Why is it that every fucking time something happens," Izuku growled, more lightning traveling down his arm, "You decide to invite yourself into my goddamned house? Do I really need to see your ugly mug every time there's some new bullshit going on?"
The blond man just snorted, still apparently unafraid of Izuku. Shoko could smell ozone now.
"You really are a rude asshole, aren't you?" the man told Izuku. "I mean, not even a "Hi, how are you doing?" Really?"
Izuku's eye twitched. "You are in my home!" he snarled. "And I don't recall inviting you."
The man smirked. "Speak for yourself," he replied. "The old man himself called me in. Said he needs all hands on deck. Paid fuckin' handsomely, too."
Izuku's eyes widened. "You're kidding," he said, letting the man drop. He did so easily, landing with a grace that suggested he was quite used to being hoisted into the air by his lapels.
"I kid about a lot of things," he said mildly as he dusted himself off, "But I never kid about getting paid."
Izuku rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "Now if only you knew how to shut the fuck up."
"Man, you don't know the half of it," drawled another voice. Izuku and Shoko both whirled as the door across the hall peeled open to reveal a short, stocky woman with brown hair and a bottle of something alcoholic in her hand. The gun belt slung around her hips was mostly empty—but Izuku knew better than to assume that she was unarmed.
She continued, "I swear, the only skill this bastard has other than fighting is yapping. I can't imagine how good that first night's sleep in this bigass mansion was once you didn't have to listen to him anymore, Izuku."
The blond man frowned. "You're one to talk," he shot back. "I thought snipers were supposed to be quiet, but I don't think you've stopped running your mouth since the day we met."
Izuku chuckled. "Ladies, ladies, you're both beautiful," he interjected. "Well, not really. You both act like feral raccoons fighting over the tastiest bit of trash in the dumpster."
The blond man's grin began to sharpen, but before he could retort, Shoko coughed loudly. Both Izuku and the two ruffians startled, as if they had all forgotten she was there.
"Lord Izuku," she said, her voice as cold as the winter wind. "I believe some introductions are in order."
It wasn't a request. Izuku looked like he had swallowed a frog, but he just sighed, and obliged.
"Bakugo, this is Lady Shoko Todoroki. I suppose she's…essentially my fiancé at this point," he said, the stiff formality of his words a shockingly sharp contrast to the easy banter he'd been sucked into so quickly. "Lady Shoko, this is Ochako Uraraka, and this is Katsuki Bakugo. They're my…"
Izuku slowly trailed off, seemingly searching for the proper word to describe the two crude figures in front of them.
Bakugo wasn't one to sit idly by. "Best friends?" he offered.
Izuku's skeptical expression didn't change.
"Comrades in arms?" Ochako tried.
Izuku's expression still didn't change. If anything, his long-suffering squint grew more pronounced.
"Cooler, more interesting fellow mercenaries?" Bakugo finally suggested.
Izuku pursed his lips. "Acquaintances," he finally pronounced.
Ochako and Bakugo glanced at each other.
"I feel like we should be insulted by that," Bakugo declared.
Ochako huffed. "Definitely," she agreed. "I mean, come on! He gets rich, has a pretty girl on his arm, and immediately forgets his closest friends? Seriously?"
Bakugo nodded. "It's a downright travesty is what it is," he declared.
"I mean, this is the sort of thing that drives a woman to drink!" Ochako proclaimed. To prove her point, she once again took a gulp of whatever unholy concoction she'd brought along.
Slowly, Shoko shifted her gaze towards Izuku. "Are they…always like this?" she asked mildly.
Weakly, Izuku nodded. "Usually they're worse," he admitted.
As the two mercenaries continued to trade ever-more-ostentatious declarations of how grievously they had been wronged, Shoko's eyebrow twitched. So did the corner of her mouth.
"Do they ever shut up?" she asked.
Izuku shook his head wordlessly.
Shoko finally gave up trying to hold in her mirth, and let an amused smile spread across her face. Then, she cleared her throat. As always, her sheer aura of power made even the irreverent pair of mercs fall silent.
"Well, it's lovely to meet you two," she declared. "Truly, I think I've learned a lot about my future husband just from the company he keeps. But now, if you'll excuse us, we really do need to speak to Lord Yagi."
She strode down the hallway, long legs swaying, the click of her heels louder than a rifle being cocked.
Bakugo and Ochako were silent until she seemed out of immediate earshot. Then, they turned back to Izuku.
"So," Ochako said, waggling her eyebrows, "Future husband," eh? What did you do to pull that off?"
Shoko, who was in fact not out of earshot, turned back to face them, her mismatched eyes twinkling with devilish amusement. "Oh, it was really quite simple," she replied coyly. "He beat a man into a bloody pulp while I watched, told me "there are no other men like me," threatened to murder somebody trying to kidnap me, then dragged all of my deepest, darkest secrets out of me in one emotional night while telling me how my eldest brother Touya is dead. He really does know the way to a girl's heart."
Still smirking, she turned around, and strode away once again. She didn't seem to notice how Bakugo and Ochako had both frozen completely after she'd said a certain name.
Izuku tried to follow Shoko, only for Bakugo's hand to grab him by the shoulder. He turned around to find wide red eyes searing into his soul.
"Deku," Bakugo growled, trying to keep his voice down. "Please tell me that it's a different Touya."
Izuku closed his eyes. Then, with the weight of all the blood on his hands, he shook his head.
Bakugo looked like he wasn't sure whether to laugh, cry, curse, or do all three at once. He settled for staring Izuku in the eye once more, and saying, "She doesn't know, does she? How he died."
Izuku sighed. It was a mistake, he knew that. It had been one from the moment he failed to tell her the whole truth. But he couldn't tell her. He could barely admit it to himself.
There were times when the things he'd done as Titan felt like they'd happened to someone else. Especially things like Touya's death. Even now, he woke up sometimes in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, wondering how he'd been able to do it so casually, snuffing out the first friend he'd every made in America, over a contract that meant nothing, a job nobody remembered. Yes, he should have admitted it to Shoko. But he could barely admit it to himself a lot of the time. It was like he'd said to Shoko last night—everyone had a weak point. Something that they simply could not be rational about. Touya…Touya was his.
But none of that really mattered right now. Softly, he asked, "How am I supposed to tell her? Especially now?"
Silence was his only answer, at least for a little while.
Then Ochako took another swig from her flask. "I know we joke about how stupid you are, Izuku," she said, her face dead serious. "But I'd like to apologize for that."
Izuku frowned.
"After all, I'm not joking anymore," Ochako continued, her expression still grave. "You are actually the dumbest motherfucker alive. Truly, God Himself couldn't create a more perfect idiot."
"Sheesh," Izuku muttered. "That's harsh."
Ochako raised an eyebrow. "Even I know Shoko Todoroki's reputation," she said mildly. "That woman you're set to marry has done some fucked-up shit, Izuku. And also, I'm fairly sure she's actually, genuinely into you. Which makes it so much fucking worse. Do you have any idea what she'll do to you if she finds out the truth?"
Izuku frowned. Ochako waited expectantly, hands on her hips, but eventually he was forced to admit, "Uh…no?"
Ochako nodded emphatically. "Exactly!" she hissed. "Neither do I! That woman is completely unpredictable! You're tap-dancing in a volcano, Izuku—one wrong move and you're toast! And also the volcano wants to fuck you, I guess?"
Izuku blinked. "I think you've mangled this metaphor a little," he said.
Bakugo snorted. "Yeah," he agreed, reaching out and yanking the flask from Ochako's hand. "I think that's enough of that for a while."
Ochako scoffed. Her hand whipped out like lightning, stealing the flask right back. "Please," she snorted. "I'm not even drunk!"
As if to prove it, she chugged down even more. Bakugo just sighed.
"Yeah, I know," he muttered. "And that's the scariest fuckin' thing about it."
Ochako polished off the flask, then declared, "No, the scariest fuckin' thing is that Izuku's managed to get himself hitched to the most dangerous woman in Japan, and given her a reason to chop his dick off and feed it to him, and he's standing there like he doesn't even mind!"
Izuku winced. "Can we maybe stop with the metaphors?" he asked.
Ochako blinked. "There wasn't no metaphors in that sentence," she told him. "She's actually going to chop your dick off and feed it to you. Or maybe she'll fuck you to death or something, I have no clue. The way she was looking at you, it could be either one."
Izuku opened his mouth to respond to that, but before he could, Shoko's voice echoed down the hallway.
"Izuku!" she said. "If you don't want me and Lord Yagi to be alone in a room together planning how to bring the Japanese aristocracy to its knees, you really should come along now!"
Izuku shuddered just from the thought. "I'm sure I'll figure it out," he told them.
Bakugo looked skeptical, but simply said, "Well, if you don't, guess we're goin' down with you."
Izuku couldn't help but grin. For all that Ochako and Bakugo were absolutely pains in the ass, they were also about the truest friends a man could ask for.
"Appreciate it," he said mildly. "I'll see you guys later, when it's time to deal with this war."
The two of them nodded. "Stay safe," Ochako told him.
Izuku smirked. "Not too safe," he said dryly, recalling their old joke. "Ruins the fun."
With that, he took off jogging down the hall, back to Shoko's side.
Time to introduce her to Toshinori. Two of the most terrifyingly intelligent and dangerous people Izuku had ever known, their whole lives spent at odds, suddenly in a room together.
What could possibly go wrong?
After a House Guard member escorted them past layers of security and down the richly-decorated hallway, Shoko stepped into the office of the most powerful man in Japan with hard eyes, every bit the Ice Queen.
She had to be. One didn't come face-to-face with a man like Toshinori Yagi without being at the very top of their game.
It had been a very long time since Shoko had last seen her House's greatest rival; Toshinori had stopped being a regular on the gala circuit years ago, before Shoko had truly come into her own. She recalled him only as a man so casually intimidating that even his easy-going, smiling nature felt menacing.
That certainly hadn't changed as she cast her eyes around the luxurious office, Izuku stepping in behind her. Toshinori was older than she recalled, and definitely frailer; the cane leaning against the side of the mahogany desk attested to that.
But his eyes when he saw who she was—they were every inch the eyes of the most powerful man in Japan. They saw everything, and gave away nothing.
And yet he was all smiles. He turned from the conversation he'd been having with Sir Nighteye, beaming like a thrilled grandfather. "Ah, Lady Shoko!" he said brightly. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you properly. It's been quite a while, hasn't it?"
Shoko raised an eyebrow. "It has," she agreed. "I don't believe I've had the opportunity to thank you yet for rescuing Lady Yaoyorozu. She and I are…close."
Toshinori smiled wider. "Think nothing of it, Lady Shoko," he said kindly. "Though I must admit, I am quite surprised at how quickly you came. I am…not used to Lord Enji being so quick to answer me."
"Yes, well," Shoko snorted. "My father took a while to get over his pride, but at least he committed to his decision once he did."
Toshinori hummed thoughtfully. "I can forgive his hesitation," he said. "Your father has much to be proud of in his life. "
Shoko's eyes flashed, just for a second. Beside her, Izuku stiffened.
"Perhaps," Shoko allowed, her voice still icy. "It's just as well, then, that he has also done much that I can never forgive him for."
Toshinori slowly arched an eyebrow, perhaps at the venom that trickled out of Shoko's voice.
In the end, he chose to simply move on. "In any case," he said, "I must admit to being quite curious—how did you two come to develop such a relationship? I was quite surprised when your father contacted me to discuss a betrothal."
Izuku made an odd noise behind Shoko—perhaps he hadn't heard about that yet. Shoko showed no reaction—after all, she'd sent that letter herself. She'd mastered forging her father's signature by the time she was twelve years old.
Still, she had other things to worry about. She narrowed her eyes at Toshinori. "Are you really going to play the fool, Lord Yagi?" she demanded icily, her voice cool and low. "You know what your son did. You sent him after me, after all."
The mood in the room suddenly crackled like ice. Toshinori's features arranged themselves into a master's poker face. Izuku, meanwhile, shot a wide-eyed glance at his soon-to-be-fiancé.
"Uh, Shoko?" he asked. "What are you implying?"
Shoko didn't even spare him a glance. Her eyes were locked firmly on Toshinori's, firm and unyielding.
"I'm implying that your father set all this up," she said coolly. "That he's a clever, manipulative genius who's been playing us both like chess pieces the entire time. And now he has what he wanted all along—his son and heir married to the most powerful woman in Japan."
The room was deadly silent. Izuku's expression was skeptical, while Nighteye, lingering in the corner of the room, gave absolutely no indication that he'd even heard Shoko's accusation.
Toshinori himself, though, merely smiled. It was a pleasant, grandfatherly expression; the sort of indulgent, warm grin that would've put Shoko at ease, if she hadn't known exactly what sort of man was lurking underneath it.
"Why, I did nothing of the sort, Lady Todoroki," Toshinori said pleasantly, seeming amused by the very thought. "In fact, I recall specifically instructing Izuku to avoid you at balls."
Shoko snorted. "Yeah, well, he didn't," she scoffed. "But really, you're telling me that you told your danger-junkie ex-mercenary heir all about me, about how I was the most feared and dangerous woman in the country, and then winked at him and said "Now don't go near her!" Please."
Toshinori's smile faded, just a little. "What are you suggesting?" he asked, long, slender fingers folded together in front of him on his desk.
"I'm suggesting that you planned this all along, Lord Yagi," Shoko said bluntly, hands on her hips. "That you played it masterfully. That you knew Izuku would, if not seek me out, be drawn to me. But if you outright told him to court me, he would be resentful and struggle with the idea of such an artificial relationship. So you gave him the impression that you disapproved of the idea of us interacting, so that Izuku could enjoy the thrill of secrecy as we grew closer."
Toshinori smiled once more. "You seem to think quite highly of my capabilities, Lady Shoko," he said kindly.
Shoko did not smile back. Still every bit the Ice Queen, she replied, "My father is one of the most competent men I've ever known, and I have watched you run rings around him my entire life. I know exactly how capable you are, Lord Yagi."
There was another moment of silence, as Izuku stared at Shoko, then at his father. He looked deeply unnerved—by how well Shoko seemed to know him or by the possibility that his father had planned this all along, it wasn't clear.
Finally, Toshinori's poker face cracked, and he grinned widely. "Hah!" he laughed. "I see your reputation is not exaggerated either, Lady Shoko. You truly are as clever as you claim to be."
Izuku's eyes widened. "Father?" he asked, sounding uneasy.
Shoko…wasn't sure she liked the possibility of being right. She didn't want Izuku to have second thoughts about what they were beginning to build together—didn't want to taint it with the specter of outside meddling. But she hated the idea of being manipulated into a marriage. It made her think of her mother.
Izuku seemed ready to say something else, but Toshinori simply raised a hand. Instantly, Izuku fell silent.
Toshinori gave his son a warm smile. "For what it's worth, Izuku, I was not lying when I said I did not send you after Lady Shoko deliberately," he explained. "I was being quite honest with you when I offered you other suggestions. But, to be frank, I know you, son. I know the kind of woman you're drawn to. I knew that my input would matter very little, once you got an idea in your head. So I was…fully aware of the possibility, shall we say. And I decided to let you follow it wherever it led you. I was willing to let you make mistakes, if necessary—they are often the best way to learn. I didn't quite expect you to arrive here with Lady Shoko on your arm and a betrothal contract on the table, I must admit, but even at my age, I am more than capable of rolling with the punches. I simply…prepared for all outcomes."
Shoko remained unimpressed. "You let him seduce me, you mean," she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest.
Toshinori once again arched an eyebrow. "Do you feel seduced, Lady Shoko?" he asked.
Shoko hummed to herself. Barely suppressing a smirk, she mused, "Let's see…in the span of barely a few weeks, your son has managed to drag out some of my most closely held personal secrets, see through ploys no one else ever has, protect me from at least one kidnapping attempt, and reduce a man to his base particles while having me hold his coat for him. And that was all before he told me that I'm not as much of a cold-hearted, remorseless bitch as I think I am. So yes. A little bit."
She reached for Izuku's arm, wrapping her own around his burly bicep with a smug grin on her face.
Izuku kept his face remarkably straight as Shoko's slender fingers interlaced through his own. "I did not say that," he protested, mostly to Toshinori.
Shoko smirked. "No," she agreed, "but it was heavily implied. You will be paying for that, by the way."
Izuku frowned. He'd already learned that that look meant absolutely nothing good. "How, exactly?" he asked Shoko.
Shoko's grin only got wider. "Oh, I'll find a way," she assured him.
Before they could get any further, Toshinori coughed lightly. "If I may," he said, "Lady Todoroki, are you genuinely prepared to marry my son?"
Shoko frowned. Toshinori's eyes were hardened now, steely and serious. He certainly wasn't the cheerful grandfather now.
Still, Shoko had faced down deadlier gazes than this one. She met his eyes evenly. "If you're asking if I intend to murder him in his sleep or at the altar, the answer is no," she replied. "I considered it, but really, it would just be too messy."
Beside her, Izuku made a strangled noise.
Toshinori merely cocked an eyebrow. "That's a relief," he said, "But not an answer to my question."
Shoko's eyes narrowed. "Then what is your question?" she demanded. "Surely the most powerful Lord in Japan can be direct with his words."
Toshinori barely even seemed to hear her jab. Instead, he simply asked, "Your reputation is well-known, and hard-earned, Lady Todoroki. You have refused all suitors, even ones from other Great Houses. Why have you chosen my son?"
Shoko remained stiff and icy. "Why does it matter?" she asked. "Surely my name and power is good enough."
Toshinori's frown deepened. "And if I said it wasn't?" he asked. "If I refused to allow the match?"
Shoko went completely, utterly still. From the outside, she appeared totally unconcerned. Internally was a different story.
Finally, she decided to relax, just a little bit. "Very well," she sighed. She took another breath, then spoke.
"I have been courted by many men, it's true," she agreed, feeling Izuku's hand in hers as she looked Toshinori in the eye. "Some of them were clever. Some of them were nearly as intelligent as I am. A few were even, impossibly, kind. But I have never seen one who was all three. Or at least, I hadn't until I met him."
She tilted her head towards Izuku, who remained utterly silent. The only sign he'd heard her was the squeeze of his hand on hers.
"I never expected to be so…spontaneous with my decision to marry," Shoko continued. "It feels as if I've been…swept off my feet. I don't think I hate it…but it is sudden."
Toshinori seemed utterly unaffected by Shoko's attempt to play the lovestruck girl. Those searing blue eyes still cut their way right through her. "Then why decide to do so now?" he pressed. "Do you truly believe that it's love?"
Shoko decided to drop the act. It clearly wasn't working. Toshinori seemed to be much like his adoptive son—he had a truly peerless ability to sniff out bullshit. The only thing that would work was at least a facade of blunt honesty.
"No," she said, mismatched eyes harsh as winter. "It isn't. I'm not so naive as to call it that after only knowing a man for a few weeks. But I think maybe…maybe it could be, someday. That's more than I've believed for any other man to seek my hand. And in the meantime, Izuku is wealthy, powerful, stands to inherit a Great House…oh, and our marriage might help stop a war. That always helps."
Izuku snorted. He'd already known full well that Shoko was not in love with him—not yet—but the bluntness was…well, refreshing.
Toshinori, too, seemed to appreciate it. He nodded slowly, saying, "Now that, I believe. But I'm afraid it's a little too late for that, Lady Todoroki. The war has already started."
He tapped a button on his desk, and a large screen rolled down from a hidden slat in the far wall of the office. Shoko and Izuku whirled to face it as a video, clearly clipped from a local news station, began to play.
A skyscraper was burning, flames licking up one side from a gaping hole in the glass facade. A helicopter hovered mere feet from the flames, firing its chainguns at whoever was inside. Missiles and rockets pounded the building as it rocked, swaying from each explosion.
The video changed. A manor house was caving in under mortar fire, huge chunks of gorgeous white marble shattering as they struck the earth, roof tiles spraying like shrapnel into armed men in defensive positions around the building.
It changed again. A whole mountainside was burning, the wreckage of a large plane visible halfway up what had once been beautiful forest. Emergency teams desperately fought the fire as the sonic boom of fighter jets roared overhead.
The video changed again, and again, each scene a new vision of hell and destruction. Izuku and Shoko were speechless. Izuku's eyes were dark, perhaps with grief, perhaps with memories.
Toshinori finally spoke. "House Monoma has made their move," he said mournfully. "Six hours ago, their forces struck six minor Houses with interests in the banking and financial sector. None survived."
Six hours. Six Houses destroyed. No Great Houses—yet—but it was…horrifying. The war had been hot for less than a day, and already the toll was in the hundreds, between the House members, their guards, and the civilians caught in the crossfire.
Seven Houses, actually, Shoko realized. House Yaoyorozu was gone, too. That one, it seemed, hadn't been the Monomas.
Izuku stepped forward. "Have any of the other Great Houses reached out?" he asked. "Or are they about to move, too?"
Toshinori sighed. "Ashido and Kirishima went dark four hours ago," he said. "What intel we have suggests they're primarily going defensive for now. So long as they aren't attacked, they're not likely to pose a threat. A few of the smaller Great Houses—Tokoyami, Kaminari, Ibara—are primarily mobilizing defensively as well. That won't last for long—sooner or later, they'll decide they can't risk sitting around waiting to be attacked. They'll pick whoever they think is their biggest threat, and go for the kill."
Izuku hummed. "I'm most worried about Iida starting something next," he said, mind visibly racing. Even though he was still arm-in-arm with Shoko, he was all business. She didn't mind—this was one area where his knowledge and experience unquestionably outweighed hers. "They've been stewing even longer than the Monomas have—"
Toshinori raised a hand. "You are right, my boy," he said, "but let us remain focused on one topic at a time for now. Namely, I still have some words to say on the topic of your marriage."
Izuku blinked. "Marriage?" he repeated, stabbing a finger towards the repeating scenes on the television. "There's a war on, and you'd rather talk about my marriage?"
Toshinori's eyes stayed perfectly still. "Yes," he said coolly. "Given that your marriage represents an alliance between the two greatest military powers in the country, I think it is quite relevant, my boy."
Izuku fell silent, like a chastened schoolboy. Toshinori turned to Shoko. "You are correct, Lady Todoroki," he said, "In that the political expediency of your betrothal makes it quite a fortunate gift in these times. One might even say necessity demands it."
Shoko met his gaze once more. "Then why do you insist on questioning it?" she demanded curtly. "I would've thought you would be more grateful."
Toshinori snorted. "Because as much as forcing you two to go through with this marriage would do a great deal to solve our short-term problems," he said, "I am a believer in not causing more problems for tomorrow in trying to solve the problems of today. And I will not force my son and heir, or a woman with every reason to loathe forced marriages, into a betrothal that may well end horrifically for everyone involved."
Shoko froze. Not because Toshinori's words hurt—she was more than aware of the potential parallels between her and her mother, and she did not like the idea that things between her and Izuku might become so toxic that she might someday pose a threat to her own children—but because she simply hadn't expected the most powerful and cunning man in Japan to have such a strong conscience. It was…illuminating, as to the sort of man Toshinori Yagi really was. And intimidating, too.
Either ignorant of Shoko's introspection, or—more likely—choosing to disregard it, Toshinori continued, "In addition, you are equally correct, Lady Todoroki, that you and my son have arrived at your current relationship somewhat by accident. You two are on the verge of entering into a formal marriage agreement, even if the marriage itself may not occur for some time—and it seems to me that both of you have simply accepted it, rather than actively choosing it. You're treating it like something that is happening to you, rather than something you are doing. And that is no way for two people who are about to become Japan's most powerful couple to behave."
Izuku and Shoko glanced at each other, and recognized that both of them were resonating with Toshinori's words. They were both quite familiar with feeling like other people were in control of their lives, after all.
Izuku glanced back at his father. "What do you suggest we do instead, then?" he asked.
There was a little hint of that grandfatherly twinkle back in Toshinori's eye, now. Gentle, kind, and wise in a way that made you stop and listen when he spoke.
"If I may make two suggestions," he said softly, "First, you two should find a quiet, private place, and talk. Be honest, be open, and look each other in the eye. Decide, as a man and a woman with immense power at your fingertips, if this is something you want to do. Do this right, or you will end up regretting it."
Izuku and Shoko paused. They turned to each other, fingers still interlaced. A question passed between them. Shoko nodded. Then Izuku.
Turning back to Toshinori, Shoko said, "A private, unchaperoned conversation with my betrothed? Don't mind if I do, Lord Yagi."
She waggled her eyebrows at Izuku. Toshinori just chuckled. Izuku, for his part, said, "I know a place, Father. We won't be long, I hope."
Toshinori smiled. "Glad to hear it," he said.
Izuku's smile faded a little. "And…what's the other suggestion?" he asked.
Toshinori's smile sharpened. "Why, it's quite simple," he said. "I want you to introduce Lady Shoko to your mother."
Izuku's eyes widened. Beside him, Shoko looked confused. "Oh," he said quietly. "Is that…wise?"
Toshinori just chortled. Shoko seemed to take that as a cue to lead Izuku towards the door.
"Don't worry, Izuku," she said cheerfully. "I promise not to kill your mother."
Izuku frowned. "That is not what I'm worried about," he muttered. "If anything, it's the other way around."
Shoko just laughed. After all, Inko Yagi was a common-born woman. Surely she would pose little challenge to Shoko's ability to manipulate people.
At a nod and dismissive wave from Toshinori, the young couple began to head for the door. They were halfway out when Toshinori spoke again.
"Oh, Lady Todoroki," he called. "One other thing."
When Shoko turned around, she found herself staring into a thunderstorm in blue and black. Lord Yagi's eyes were dark and stormy, every bit the deadly gaze of the most powerful man in Japan she'd been expecting.
There was no more cheerful grandfather to be seen on his face. There was no more laughter, no more twinkling eyes, no more indulgent smiles or wise advice. There was only the steel of a man who had reshaped the very world in his image.
"Don't ever lie to me again, Lady Todoroki," Toshinori said softly. "Not even to tell me what you think I want to hear. You may play the great game, and play it well, but you would be wise to remember who made the board it stands upon."
For the first time in her life, Shoko Todoroki understood what it was like to feel fear. She swiftly controlled it, locked down her emotions and kept her head held high. But she wouldn't forget that look in Toshinori's eyes anytime soon—the look of a man fully comfortable with the steel in his soul and the blood on his hands. The look of true, unvarnished power.
But for all that, she was still Shoko Todoroki. She smiled.
"I understand, Lord Yagi," she said sweetly. "You'll never catch me lying again."
Toshinori's eyebrows shot up, but Shoko was already gone. She strode through the door with her back straight and no fear in her heart.
It did mean she missed Toshinori start to smile, though.
When his heir and soon-to-be daughter-in-law had vanished out the door, Toshinori finally allowed himself to lean back in his chair. For just a moment, he let his eyes close.
It had been a long day. And it would only get longer. War was spreading across his nation, like a fire smoldering in the brush, getting stronger with every passing moment. There was only so much he could do.
But in the midst of it all, he could hold on to a few things at least. Stretching one last time, he sat back up in his chair, and shot a thoughtful glance at Sir Nighteye, standing silently in the corner as he always did.
"What do you think, Mirai?" he asked softly.
Nighteye quirked an eyebrow. "Of what, sir?" he asked.
Toshinori shrugged. "Anything you care to weigh in on," he said. "My son, his fiancé…this."
He gestured at the roll-down screen, which was still playing that video of the burning highrise being riddled with helicopter gunfire.
Nighteye frowned. "You know my opinion of the boy," he said dourly.
Toshinori chuckled. "Yes, Mirai, you've made that quite clear," he agreed. Mirai had never liked Young Midoriya. Claimed he was too unfocused, too distracted, too blinded by grievances and insecurity to claim the title Toshinori had forged in blood and death. He had never gone so far as to call the choice foolish—to do so would be to insult Toshinori as well, and Mirai was utterly incapable of even conceiving of doing that, to both his credit and his detriment—but Toshinori was not blind to Mirai's feelings, no matter how well he controlled them.
"The girl, though," Nighteye continued, "She…concerns me."
Toshinori hummed. "Why?" he asked. "Because you don't know what she's going to do?"
Nighteye shook his head. "No," he sighed. "Because I'm not convinced she knows."
Toshinori nodded thoughtfully. He'd had similar thoughts about Lady Shoko Todoroki—for all her fearsome reputation, she had been distinctly unbalanced by the realization of her feelings for Izuku. That sort of imbalance could lead people down…dangerous paths. Toshinori knew that from personal experience.
Still, he had high hopes for that union—to say nothing of the fact that he was genuinely thrilled to see that his son by marriage and in his heart had a chance at a true, genuine love match. It was rare that he got to indulge the romantic in him—he'd done it when he married Inko, and he'd done it again today.
But it was time for the romantic to leave again. When Toshinori stood, old, tired joints creaking, his searing blue eyes were as dark as they had been all those years ago in the Tsushima Strait, when he'd earned the nickname Divine Wind, with all the glory that ancient title carried in Japanese history…and all the darkness, too.
He did not have the strength to step onto the battlefield, nowadays. That time was long past. But there was more than one way for a man to go to war. And many of those ways were…less than pleasant.
He turned to Nighteye once more. "Get me Tsukauchi," he said. "I want to see whether that contact of his has borne fruit."
Nighteye's frown deepened, nose wrinkling in distaste. "The boy won't like it," he noted.
Toshinori nodded. "I dislike the idea too," he admitted. "But every avenue should be considered. Even those from less…savory sources."
If Nighteye still had doubts, he showed no sign of them. He simply saluted, and left the room, headed down the hall to find the spymaster of House Yagi.
Toshinori, for his part, leaned back in his chair, and let the crackling gunfire of the video lull him into a few minutes of precious sleep.