Draft 6 - Spoiler warning - Notes

(This chapter may spoil what occurs in the original story, please make sure that the Yakuza arc has passed.)

Somewhere in the redlight district, a large group gathered within a hollowed out building. From the outside, the place looked at the verge of bankruptcy, which it was, as loosing their distribution chain has led to a sudden loss of all financial stature.

Ironically, it would be a morally aligned decision that would drive the end of their Yakuza-branched group.

On the inside of the large complex building, all items were removed and any remaining evidence of their existence eliminated, curtesy to a black market connection that the group leader, Takomi, had. Hundreds of grunts and middle level members stood infront of their sole leader, murmuring and speaking.

Not even paint was left on the walls, the rooms were dismantled, which offput many members who had arrived to the emergency meet. A tingle sent through their spine alerted them that this wasn't something to celebrate.

"Ehem"

Takomi cleared his throat and with a single calm glare, they're lips sealed shut.

He had been anticipating the end of this group for a while now, or at the very least the 'removal' of the branch for a new, more refined one. Though, in some way, the 'Shinigami' was a blessing in disguise. Not only did his members all survive the previous mock-attack, but he had been given the opportunity to settle due debts while he was still alive, which was more than any man in his line of work deserved.

Ironic that someone with the name of 'Shinigami' would give him a chance to settle his business in the underworld. He'd chuckle, but now wasn't the time. His next words were ones he'd had both despised and relaxed by.

"We're disbanding." Takomi spoke strongly.

No emotion of anger, sorrow or guilt was on his face, but everyone else's turned grim. His easygoing tone sent them all into a calm, stone like shock. First was the silence, where they uttered not a breathe. Out of everything anyone expected to hear, that was not one of the options.

Then they mourned. Rioting against their leader, words of rage, sadness or otherwise fury were made open.

Pleading, begging, even raging. No one could stand the thought of leaving this group. The Yakuza simply wasn't a part time gig.

They had no lives outside of this menagerie, few had families, but many were orphaned and brought into this over the years by poverty or discrimination.

It wasn't an easy life to be a criminal or 'villain', but compared to eating rotten foods in bins at night or sitting in the winter cold next to a random person beside you, unable to tell if they're asleep or already undergoing thawing, perhaps dead for far longer than suspected.

To take that away from them- it was more than cruel. And they could not ever, ever, go back to the slums. Not with everything they earned!

"Why-" One asked, wearing with a gas mask, his shock still leaked from his voice. This was the user of the chemical reversal quirk, and like many of the others, he was too ashamed of the previous attack. He wasn't given a moment to speak as everyone broke out into a flurry of questions.

"Boss!" Another spoke out in shame, guilt eve, he was the nearest and best heard out of the many behind his large body. "How?! How could you do this?! I know we haven't been meeting the quota recently but- but we can salvage it-" Their voices were far too loud; They seemingly lost dignity as things progressed further into a tantrum, where it was more of a child pleading for their parents to stay than a simple resignation letter.

...

"QUIET! EVERYONE SHUT UP!" Bellowing through the crowd of mismatched faces, his words silenced a wave of people, like a ripple through a pond. He rarely yelled unless it was truly an endeavor important enough to warrant it, to which this was. They didn't leave a whisper in the room, as the silence gave him the opportunity to elaborate on his words. He sighed as his eyes gazed on his adoptive family.

It was his decision in the end, he'd be responsible for their lives.

And opportunities to leave the life of crime, like this, certainly never came without some effort.

"You know we can't keep this up forever." They see but a glint of his mournful expression, which left everyone in an blizzard of emotion. No one breathed for a second, trying to compute his intent, interrupted by him before any conclusions could be formed.

"Last week, the higher ups sent one of their members here as a mock trial. To see how great our combat capabilities were in case of an attack. You all failed. We all- failed." He spoke as if looking at something disappointingly, his glare delivered a sensation of disappointment to everyone there. Aware that their sole opportunity to prove themselves was wasted because of their sloth, the anticipation of failure, the regretting, passed over them in a shockwave rather than layer by layer. The realization left many unsatisfied with themselves, and even loathing.

"We simply can't keep this business as we have for the last few years, they've made it clear enough that we're getting old, a risk in their eyes. Take it from me, that means that no one here is needed alive. In their eyes, we're not only weak, but a liability.

...

A moment left them.

Tears flowed from some, dripping from their eyes onto their cheeks, cascading a few others to join in with hiccups and snot filled crying, few strong ones couldn't help but clench their fists. They're eyes clenched, expression held tight. The few not broken entirely by the news had to ask themselves what they wanted to do; What were they going to do now that they lost they're family?

"Now. I don't want a single excuse or some alibi, I don't want a single person here to ever think about entering this world with that level of skill. As your boss, you all... Are my responsibility. I won't let you leave without a way out of this life. I've sent you all a bank account and number, call it. It's a job suited to each person here. Cleaning, construction, hell, even a fry cook, do whatever you can to make it work." His words caused the flinch of some, and the shock of everyone. They're eyes glowed with a form of empathy akin to a child leaving their parents. Tears reached everyone, some in small amount of dripples and drops which they wiped instantly, others in uncontained sorrow as leaking pipes made them unable to breathe.

"The other top brass got theirs first, so don't you dare think about skipping out on it! Am I clear?" The angry expression plastered on the old man's face made the waterworks run for everyone, they silently wept as they saw his kindness in full works, it made them soft for a moment.

"Huh?! Crying now?! I didn't give you all permission to cry! What the hell do you say when your boss gives an order?!" he screams, the façade, if only for an infinitesimal moment, leaving his face as his brows fell into a flicker of true empathy. He couldn't help but cover his eyes, these kids were like his own, he watched them grow, he brought them in, and now, he let them fly.

This was his family. They were his. Not one built for a long while, 7 years was the oldest, but still, he cherished each one of the young ins.

That was how the Yakuza operated, not as a syndicate, but as a collective. It was why he chose to be one of all things, that and at the bequest of an old friend. Somehow, remembering that bastards face gave him a small smile, as he spoke with apathetic yet emotional tones.

"You idiots. Are you really going to make you both repeat his last request?" Barely holding it together. His hand fully covered his eyes, but his lips moved as they regularly had before. It looked more like he was ashamed than crying.

At that note, they all stiffened, their muscles weakened. Then, with a close synchronization, they spoke.

""""YES BOSS!"""" They spoke simultaneously, their backs straightened and they bowed out of sheer respect. Even tears flowed out of his eyes, this was far too long awaiting, wasn't it.

"Now," Barely containing himself, he gazed over the many lot there, heads still parallel to the floor. "Go home, call the number, get yourselves a cheap place. Don't spend exuberantly, don't overspend either.

I expect not having to speak to a single damned one of you until you've all properly settled into society. Am I clear?!"

""""YES BOSS!""""

"Now hurry the fuck up already!" He said as they, barely managing to keep their bodies straight as everyone walked out of the room... before some broke down wailing.

Even he couldn't help but recollect the first time he was offered this job, When did everything go to shit?

...

Tears flowed from his eyes only briefly, he wasn't attached to this life, even his life, but he couldn't say the same thing about his responsibility to every member- Well, ex-member now. Perhaps he could finally retire after this?

At the very least, even if he didn't make it out of this life, they could.

(Class 1A)

The door opens sliding, loudly interrupting their conversations.

While they had expected Aizawa's late arrival, their gazes where met with Izuku's morbidly empty eyes. he was late 3 minutes, but that wasn't why despondence filled the smell of the room. He was the strongest one, and finally, after a long wait, they could ask their class president on why the teacher wasn't there.

"Hey." A lackluster introduction in comparison to his comically 'enthusiastic' and elated tone.

"You're late-" Ida was interrupted by the words there after.

"We need to talk about a few things. Important things. Firstly, " He stepped on the pedestal where Momo had been waiting. His arrogance never failed to pester the room, thus, few like Katsuki and Momo, didn't appreciate the tone. Not one bit. ".. The session is a free period within the class."

The news and his words defused the tension building in the room. Many, celebrated with a wide vocal range of gratitude and cries, some like Shoto did and Tsuyu however, did not appreciate the sudden shift.

"Awesome!"

"Free session!"

"Wait. Why is Aizawa not here? Shouldn't he be telling us instead? Ribbit." She remarked. The classroom's attention once again shifted onto a serious note, focusing back to Izuku; He did not appreciate being constantly interrupted, sympathising with Aizawa for once. Perhaps if he was paid the same wage (an exorbatant quantity) as the teacher, he co.