“And then I threw my phone into the river.”

 

Hanabi let out a small chuckle. Her left arm was hooked with his right, and she patted his hand slightly as they made their way through the well-tended garden that was hidden inside the Yakuza compound. “Smart move if you didn’t want to be tracked, but if you didn’t want the data on there to be found, you should have cracked the shell first. They make cellphones so durable these days. It’s both a blessing and a curse.”

Right, his grandmother was the boss of a Yakuza family. 

 

“Still,” Hanabi gave a soft hum as they stopped at a beautiful collection of flowers. “For that girl to act like that, she might have been worse off than I feared. Perhaps I should have attempted to reach out to her more.” She gave a kind, grandmotherly smile and gave him a wink. “Besides sending you cash for your birthday.”

 

Izuku let his grandmother’s arm slide through his own as she kneeled down to look at the flowers. “I supposed this is a bad time to mention I never got anything from you.”

 

“Not surprising.” Hanabi continued to poke at the flowers for a moment. “Well, I wish our reunion was more cheerful than it is, but I suppose you’ve gone your entire life not knowing part of who you are. And that’s a long time, even for an old lady like me.” She rose with more ease than his mother would have and smiled at him. “But, starting with the past will get us to the now so we might properly look to the future, hmm?” 

 

She straightened her kimono and began to take a few brisk steps past him. “Come on now, best not to dawdle in my garden, half the plants in here are poisonous, and the other half will get you higher than a kite.”

 

Izuku tore his hand away from the red flower he had been drawn to and took a much better look at the garden. Oh. So that bush he thought might be a pot plant was a pot plant. His grandmother let out a sharp laugh and he chased after her. “So, is this your garden?”

 

“I said as much didn’t I? Besides, an old lady like me needs a hobby, and gardening does more for me than any narcotic ever could.” She led him up along a short path before they arrived back at the main building. “It’s soothing, and creating new life is the best way to get over the loss of life. At least, it is for me. But there’s a good chance I might be crazy.”

 

They took their shoes off and entered a smaller version of the large meeting room he had first met her in. They sat at a small wooden table, so worn with use that there were rings where someone had placed a cup of tea every single day. Overlooking the garden and the small pond at its heart, it almost felt serene. 

 

After a moment, another member appeared to deliver a letter, a pot of tea, and two cups.

 

“I had this whole plan about what I was going to say to you, but the moment I saw your face, I saw my son, and all of that went out the window.” Hanabi sat up slightly, pouring each of them a cup with the kind of grace that came with a lifetime of such pours. “So, I suppose we should start with Hisashi.”

 

“Mom never told me much about him. Just that he could breathe fire, and that he died on the job.” Izuku looked at the tea and took a small sniff before he took a sip. Spicy. Bitter. And somehow sweet. But, it was also good. 

 

His grandmother gave a soft smile and nodded. “Technically that’s right, but she sold everything so short. She probably never told you that he had tattoos either?”

 

He shook his head no. 

 

“Makes sense, she probably saw some sort of a connection between tattoos and,” Hanabi gestured to the air around her, “everything that happened here. Well, your father had an abundance of tattoos. He loved his ink, just like his own father did.” She winked and chuckled at him. “A bit poetic that a family filled with men that loved to ink themselves would produce a boy that needed ink for his own quirk.”

 

“Your father, my son, Hisashi. He was strong-willed and honorable. It was because of him that we enjoy the power and influence we do today. When your mother said that he could breathe fire, she was only saying part of his quirk. He could set his body on flame, and fight like a devil and even regrow a limb, though, he only had a chance to regrow a finger once. He earned the nickname ‘Salamander’ with our numerous enemies at the time. Apparently, that’s some fire lizard.”

 

“He sounds like a badass. He wasn’t a villain, was he?” Izuku asked, the idea of his father being a hero felt impossible, but he needed to know if his father was a villain. The question gnawed at him. 

 

His grandmother gave him a firm look before she took a sip of her tea. Izuku had never felt so much disappointment radiate off of such a simple gesture. “I’ll forgive your ignorance Izuku, but don’t think that we’re villains. Your father was certainly not. If anything, he was closer to a hero, especially for those close to him. He was a force to be reckoned with and his only weakness was some green-haired waitress he met by chance.” She smiled again and winked. “That is, until they had a green-haired baby boy that meant the world to him. To me as well.”

 

So his father was neither a hero nor a villain. So what did that make him? A Yakuza. Was that better or worse than either of those? “So, what happened to him?”

 

“You were so little when it happened, I’m not surprised you don’t remember.” Hanabi’s face fell hard as she winced at whatever painful memories she was recalling. “You were three, maybe four at the time. But, perhaps you’ve read about it in your textbooks.” A deep steady sigh escaped her. “What do you know about the efforts to purge villainous organizations that All Might spearheaded?” 

 

“Oh,” Izuku felt his shoulder’s slump. “That’s when Ori and Tanaka lost their father too right?”

 

A short nod. 

 

“So they died fighting All Might.” He muttered mostly to himself. 

 

Hanabi let out another sharp laugh. “Against him? No.” She leaned forward, a vicious smile on her face. “Are you ready for a real history lesson?” 

 

“Sure?”

 

“Oh come on, be more excited Izuku! This is your family history we’re talking about!” 

 

“Yes!”

 

“Yes, what?” 

 

“Yes I want to know about your real history!”

 

“That’s more like it.” She took a rather smug sip of her tea and raised a delicate eyebrow at him. “What the officials don’t want you to know is that there were Yakuza groups that fought alongside the heroes and the police.”

 

“What?” Izuku felt his jaw drop. “Why?”

 

“A common enemy.” She waved her hand like it was no big deal. “You see, for us Yakuza, we thrive when there’s order, and, likewise, the law is better when we’re the main source of unlawfulness.” She gave a big cheesy grin. “At least that’s what this crazy old Yakuza lady thinks! But, way back when, three Yakuza families banded together with the police and heroes. The Amagi Group, The Shie Hassaikai, and the Tokyo Clan. Today, those are the only three Yakuza groups left in Tokyo.”

 

Hanabi gave another chuckle. “I know it might sound like we were simply taking advantage of the situation, and in a way we were, but there was more to it than that. My husband, the leader of the Shie Hassaikai, and the brat in charge of the Tokyo Clan all agreed that this was something that needed to be done, not just for the good of our own families, but for Tokyo as a whole.”

 

“What happened?” Izuku asked sitting forward slightly to listen to his grandmother’s story better. “Who were they fighting against?”

 

“A man called All for One. He was the dark lord of the underworld of the time. Nearly every villainous or criminal enterprise at the time answered to him, so when All Might showed up and started to reduce the crime, the three of us decided to switch sides. But even with All Might and police doing the heavy lifting, we still suffered casualties. Hisashi was among them.”

 

“I think something broke in Inko that day. I could see the heartbreak in her eyes, and I couldn’t blame her for wanting to run away. Besides, I had not only my own grief to deal with; I found myself in charge of the Amagi Group. I had to guide us and make us stronger, find the gaps in the laws that the police would ignore because it was better to have an organized crime than a chaotic one.”

 

A lot of stuff made sense now. “I… Hanabi... Grandma. Thank you. Thank you for telling me what happened.”

 

“You’re family, Izuku, and more than that, you’re the son of my son.” She reached across the table and smiled at him, a kind grandmotherly smile that felt like how freshly baked cookies smelled. “If you ever have a question, don’t be afraid to ask me.”

 

He gave a light shrug, “I kind of need a place to stay.”

 

“Bahahah! That you do! Don’t worry, we have more than a few spare rooms in this place, and I’ve already told the guards that you’re allowed in and out as you please.” She pointed a bony finger towards him. “So take some time and try to relax. That is, relax as much as one can after getting Ori’s attention.”

 

“No kidding, first time I met her I spent the entire night almost passing out of pain as she put a tattoo on me. The second time she pulled me to a fight club and I got kicked out of my house.”

 

“Oh, and this would make a third time. Do me a solid and try not to end the world until I’m dead.” She leaned back and pulled out a small pipe from her sleeve. Izuku watched as her thumb ignited into a colorful blue flame before she lit the pipe and took a small puff out of it. “So, is there anything else you want to know?”

 

“What should I do about mom?”

 

Hanabi took a long slow puff of her pipe and looked out towards her garden. “I’m a spiteful person, Izuku. Part of me wants me to keep you away from her as long as possible, just like she did to me. But, I’m also too old to be thinking that way. My opinion though? Give it some time. Mull it over. Let her come to you. I’ll send Sho out to make sure she knows you’re safe.”

 

“You’re pretty wise, Grandma.”

 

“I better be, I’m old as shit!” 

 

“So, I do have one question.”

 

She raised an eyebrow and locked eyes with him. 

 

“Can I still be a hero? I mean, I went to a fight club, and—”

 

He was cut off by his grandmother’s laughter. “Your family is Yakuza, Izuku. The door’s open for you, but you’re not one of us yet. Besides, there are a bunch of heroes that are members of the Yakuza, some big names too. And there’s a lot more that have blood ties with us.”

 

“Can you tell me who?” 

 

“That’d spoil the fun! When they show up next, I’ll introduce you to some members. Maybe.” Hanabi shrugged again. “Well if that’s all, I’ll show you to an empty room and give you a chance to settle in a bit. Then we’re going to have a BBQ.” She raised an eyebrow and looked him up and down. “We’ll get you some new clothes tomorrow. What else you need?”

 

“A direction in life?” He asked with a shrug. “And a laptop? It’d help with school.”

 

Hanabi gave another bubbly laugh, and Izuku felt ready to ease into his life at the Yakuza compound.