The silk of my suit felt cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the simmering anticipation thrumming beneath my ribs. Today was the day. The day we reminded everyone why we were at the top.
Kurogiri, or Oboro as he preferred these days, adjusted my tie. His light blue hair framed a face that was still getting used to being human again. The warp gate that had defined him for so long was now just a quirk he could activate at will, a comfort rather than a cage.
"You look… composed, Izuku," he said, his voice still carrying a slight echo of the mist he used to be. "Are you nervous?"
"Terrified," I admitted, a wry smile playing on my lips. "But I can't show it."
He nodded, understanding flickering in his blue eyes. "They haven't seen you since you were practically a kid. They'll be expecting wide-eyed fear, not… this." He gestured to my tailored suit and carefully cultivated air of authority.
"Let them underestimate me," I said, steel creeping into my voice. "It'll be their last mistake."
Oboro opened the car door, a silent invitation. I slid in, the scent of leather and ozone filling my senses. He settled into the driver's seat and the engine purred to life. The city blurred past the windows, a canvas of neon lights and shadowed alleys.
We arrived at the designated building, a discreet skyscraper that blended seamlessly into the skyline. The other leaders were already waiting in the conference room, their faces etched with varying degrees of impatience and disdain.
Overhaul, his hands meticulously gloved, sat rigid in his chair. Lady Nagant, her sniper's gaze sharp and assessing, leaned against the wall. Shinso, the youngest after me, met my eyes with a flicker of something akin to understanding.
"Midoriya," Overhaul greeted, his voice flat. "You've grown."
"So have you, Chisaki," I replied, offering a polite nod.
The meeting was a tedious dance of power and posturing. We discussed finances, territory disputes, and the ever-present threat of heroes. The others spoke of brute force and intimidation, tactics that had served them well for years. But I saw things differently.
"We need to be smarter," I said, interrupting Overhaul's rant about a rival gang. "We need to adapt. The world is changing, and so must we."
They scoffed, their faces skeptical. "What do you suggest, kid?" Nagant drawled, her lips curling into a sneer.
"Diversification," I said, my voice calm and steady. "We need to expand our operations, find new avenues for profit. And we need to be more discreet. The heroes are getting smarter, more vigilant."
I outlined my plan, a complex web of investments, black market deals, and carefully orchestrated manipulations. They listened, their initial skepticism slowly giving way to grudging respect.
The meeting stretched for hours, a grueling test of wills and strategy. We divided the spoils, assigning each leader a specific area of focus. Shinso would handle prison breaks, Nagant would deal with gambling rings, Overhaul would oversee drug trafficking, and I would tackle kidnapping and human trafficking.
A cold fury settled in my stomach as I spoke the words. Human trafficking. It was a vile, disgusting business, but it was also incredibly lucrative. And more importantly, it was a problem that needed to be addressed. I intended to dismantle it from the inside out.
Finally, the meeting adjourned. Oboro was waiting for me outside, his presence a silent reassurance. We drove back to the base, the tension slowly bleeding out of my shoulders.
The atmosphere inside was a chaotic symphony of domesticity. Shigaraki and Dabi were huddled in a corner, engaged in a surprisingly animated conversation. Toga and Twice were immersed in a fierce game of Uno. Compress and Spinner were throwing darts at a board, their banter echoing through the room. Mia and Emma were giggling over something on Mia's phone.
It was moments like these that reminded me why I did what I did. These people, these villains, they were more than just pawns in a game. They were a family, a twisted, dysfunctional family, but family nonetheless.
"Izuku!" Toga shrieked, launching herself at me with a bone-crushing hug. "You're back!"
I chuckled, returning her embrace. "I am. And I have news."
The room fell silent as I explained the outcome of the meeting. When I mentioned human trafficking, a palpable wave of anger surged through the air. They all hated it.
"We're going to shut it down," I said, my voice firm. "Every single operation, every single perpetrator. We're going to make them pay."
A cheer erupted, a roaring affirmation of our shared purpose. They were ready, eager to unleash their fury on those who preyed on the innocent.
As everyone dispersed to socialize or eat dinner, Shigaraki lingered behind, his crimson eyes fixed on me with an unreadable expression.
"Why?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "Why did you take us in? After everything we did?"
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Because I understood," I said, meeting his gaze. "I understood the pain, the anger, the feeling of being cast aside. But I also saw the potential, the strength that lay dormant beneath the surface."
I stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You all look out for your own. You stick together. That's something I admire. And something that makes you more than just villains."
I paused, a thought striking me. "Tomura," I asked, "Would you be a squadron leader for this mission?"
His eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. Then, a slow, hesitant smile spread across his lips.
"Yes," he said, his voice stronger now. "Yes, I will."
He was a good leader, Tomura. Driven, strategic, and utterly ruthless when necessary. He was also fiercely loyal, a trait that had served us well on countless occasions.
He would never admit it, not out loud, but I knew he saw me as more than just a boss. I was a friend, a confidant. And I, in turn, saw him as a brother, a comrade, a vital piece of this twisted puzzle we called our lives.
As I watched him walk away, a sense of quiet satisfaction washed over me. We were broken, flawed, and morally ambiguous. But we were also united, driven by a shared purpose, and ready to face whatever darkness lay ahead.
The world saw us as villains. Maybe we were. But we were also a force for change, a chaotic, unpredictable force, but a force nonetheless. And we were just getting started. The underworld was ours to conquer, and the world would tremble before us.