Chapter Text
Some of the coldest nights in Japan could be found in January, and this night was proving to be no different. It was commonly observed that, in defiance of all other meteorological trends, Hosu Ward always seemed to record some of the coldest temperatures in Japan. Whatever the reason for the cold, the gloomy nights of January often drove the residents to drink. However, given the recent festivities of New Year’s, this drinking was often of a social nature. Residents had more than their fill of bars to choose from, but one bar that was doing particularly well this night was the long-running Hair of the Dog Bar, though it had not always gone by that name.
“Police have still not released any details regarding their efforts in the manhunt for Representative Sota Kume of Kanagawa’s District Two. Neither his motive, nor a discussion of any greater involvement in the death of Governor Ryo Aoki, has yet been revealed.”
Hair of the Dog Bar was a quiet place on the best of nights, considering its usual clientele. Said clientele were mainly police, and the odd hero whose work brought them into close cooperation with police. Bedecked in a classy wooden floor and carved furniture from the 1980s (or at least the best attempts at a reconstruction of that interior decorating style, some centuries on), and tucked away in a small street corner, any prospective barhopping youths walking in wouldn’t see much of a party atmosphere, and quickly move on in warmer months, although colder months were at least enough reason for any passersby to consider stopping in to at least warm up a little. Most nights, a few police officers could be seen nursing a drink-either deserved from a successful case, or needed after a rough night, before heading home. Tonight, though, was different. Tonight, there was celebration among Hosu’s prefectural police, the party organized by the Organized Crime division. Drink flowed, cheers were shouted (and drank to), and not even the reminder of Ryo Aoki’s passing could bring down the mood, filtering out from the television mounted behind the bar in a corner of the roof.
The occasion? Why, only news of the disbandment of two of the largest organized crime organizations in Japan! Word have traveled fast among the police departments in Tokyo and Osaka regarding the breakup of two of the nation’s largest Yakuza organizations; the Tojo Clan, headquartered in Kyoto, and the Omi Alliance, headquartered in Osaka. More than one officer in Jabiim was willing to bet a week’s pay on similar celebrations breaking out with their fellows out west. In Jabiim, victory tasted sweet, a drought more welcome than beer and aged whiskey. Todo Inuken, the bar’s proprietor, wiped a glass behind the counter and surveyed the crowd. On a night like this, keeping everybody happy, and most importantly drinking, was paramount, but not all that difficult to do, given the circumstances. His dog-like head smelled the air, the good mood of the crowd making it hard not to give in the instincts afforded to him by his Quirk to start panting. For in this society, around four-fifths possessed what was known as a Quirk. Quirks varied from person to person: in Inuken’s case, his otherwise normal body, dressed in a suit and apron, possessed the head of a dog. Though all quirks granted their owner some type of ability, whether useful for full-time hero work or not, all served to at least provide a certain individuality to their owners.
Not all in the bar shared in the festive atmosphere, though, a fact that Inuken noted while looking around the crowd. In the far corner of the bar, a certain detective of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police sat contemplatively. Dressed in a khaki trench coat over a white shirt and grey slacks, he looked to all observers like someone’s best interpretation of ancient Colombo episodes. Staring into his drink, the man known as Makoto Date contemplated the future ramifications of the Tojo Clan’s disbandment- and not as a mere thought exercise on retirement, as a detective of his age and service history was wont to do. At the moment, Date was waiting on someone, so his attending of this impromptu gathering was more incidental than anything. Sure, Date was Homicide, and everyone else was Organized Crime, but in the rest of the attendants’ minds, a geezer like him was still more than welcome.
Idly, Date ran his thumb on the rim of his glass. Never in his career did he think he’d live to see the end of a yakuza organization with a history as storied and long as the Tojo Clan. Guess it’s just another part of getting old, he thought, then grimaced and raised his glass to his lips. Now there was a thought that didn’t need dwelling on. Some of his drink would do nicely to drive it from his brain. Placing the glass down, he wondered if Kiryu had anything to do with this yakuza disbandment. Silly question, really. In all the time Date had known the man, Kazuma Kiryu had done everything humanly possible to preserve the Tojo Clan-beyond the point where most would have given it up as a lost cause. All that, but to hear it from Kiryu himself, he wanted as little as possible to do with the Tojo.
Just another part of him that didn't make sense, Date mused, then realized he was thinking of Kiryu in the past tense. Like he didn’t watch the man give up ever seeing his loved ones to keep them safe. Like Date wasn’t the only one out of everyone who’d known him who knew that he was still out there somewhere. Well, outside of anyone involved with the Great Dissolution, anyway. He had a sneaking suspicion that Akiyama had an idea, too. That being the case… Maybe thinking of Kiryu in past tense would be good practice to keep his secret. After all, he was in a building full of people who never looked kindly on his dealings with ex-yakuza, to say nothing of any larger governmental conspiracies that may or may not involve knowledge of a battleship that may or may not officially exist. Made him wonder how the pro heroes over in Hiroshima were doing. Probably a shitshow, if he had to guess.
The creaking of the old wooden door caught his ear. His fellow detective on the force, Naomasa Tsukauchi, walked inside, prompting a few words of greeting from his fellow officers. Much like Date, he was dressed in a khaki trench coat, with a white shirt and grey slacks. He nodded in greeting towards his fellow officers, placing his hat on a hook and holding up a finger to Inuken, who nodded and bent down to grab his drink. After grabbing it, Tsukauchi made his way over to his similarly-dressed comrade. Date glanced over, seeing the one man who he could feel confident was cribbing his fashion sense. Same color coat, same slacks… only difference is, he's buttoned up. Date raised his glass in his hand, both in greeting and to mark his location for his fellow detective. Not that Tsukauchi needed the help-in a lake of dark blue, tan and grey clothes did just fine sticking out by themselves. Anyone passing by the window might’ve thought they were seeing two losers from a Colombo lookalike competition. In that hypothetical, Date liked to think he would’ve scored higher.
“Date-san.” Tsukauchi greeted as he sat across from the older man. He still found it difficult to contain his giddiness being around… well, his idol and inspiration as a detective, really. Getting by on nothing by street smarts and experience, Date was able to solve cases Tsukauchi himself would’ve struggled with, while Quirkless to boot! With the history of cases and headlines he’d been part of… even with his Truth Detection quirk, he had a big trench coat to fill.
“Naomasa-san. What marks this occasion?” Date, on the other hand, kept his voice even, but in truth, sitting across from someone with a truth-detection quirk right after contemplating a secret dozens of heads had rolled for was not a recipe for a relaxing conversation. Still, Tsukauchi had to consciously activate his quirk for it to work, so as long as Date didn't give him reason to suspect him, he had nothing to fear.
Right?
“Well, for starters, now you can, to use your phrase, ‘finally get rid of that ulcer’. Your old worries. are gone now, sir.”, Tsukauchi grinned. “No more Tojos, even the Omi are gone now. Surely the end of that particular stressor warrants some celebration?”
“Maybe the organizations themselves are gone, but that doesn’t mean the criminals themselves are, too. I’ve got a feeling we’re going to be seeing a lot of smaller gangs spring up, temperament unknown. We’ll see if that makes things easier or harder. At least you knew what you were getting with the yakuza.”
“Don’t look forward to dealing with hangure either, I’ll admit. But you ask me, organized crime’s just crime with a lot more reputation laundering. Even if the yakuza could sometimes reign themselves in, it’s better that we divide up the forces we’re dealing with.”
Date had to concede that the Tojo weren't exactly model citizens-he could probably count on one hand the number of yakuza he actually got along with, let alone liked. Still… “It wasn't all bad to have them around, you know.”, Date reminded his younger colleague. “Weren't for some of ‘em, we'd have never dug up Munakata’s dirt, let alone Jingu’s part of that little fiasco.”
Tsukauchi rolled his eyes in response.“They both would've been caught eventually.”
“Don't forget that incident with the bombs they helped defuse in Kamurocho.”, Date countered. “Or that business with Black Monday.”
“None of that should've been resolved by criminals. A few Heroes could've easily busted down those situations. Plus, how many of those situations were just some yakuza cleaning up their own messes?”
Date had to concede to the latter argument, but not to the former. “True, some of the yakuza weren’t blameless in starting these situations. But… I don't know. I just…sometimes I just get to thinking about how there are some situations where there weren’t any Pro Heroes to help out. You know, clandestine things. No fame in it. We needed the help we could get, and it makes me damn happy things didn’t go worse than they did! That’s all I’m saying.”
At that, Tsukauchi fell silent. Internally, Date wondered if he had said too much, revealed his biases too much. Then, Tsukauchi spoke up. “You know sir…” Date kept his face passive, until Tsukauchi chuckled. “...I forget sometimes how much crazy things you got to see when you were my age.” Tsukauchi’s drink arrived from Inuken, heated up. Hot mulled was Hair of the Dog’s specialty, brewed by Inuken himself. January was a little past the drink's usual season, but it was a godsend on cold nights in Hosu.
“Here you go, Tsukauchi-san.” Inuken turned towards Date. “Everything alright, Date-san? Why the long face?”
Date sighed. No use holding back what he wanted to say. Looking up at Inuken’s muzzle, though, he instead responded, “Isn’t that my line?”
“Hardy-har. I’m a dog-type, Date-san, not a horse-type. Why do you think I always say the bad jokes first? ‘Sides, I’m not the sad sack here.”
Date couldn’t argue either point. “Just…thinking about how the world’s moving past us.”
Inuken sighed himself. “I know. Honestly? I kinda miss them too. Least they could be paying customers from time to time. Not a fan of collateral damage Heroes cause either. Why do you think the chairs look so much newer than the rest of the place? Maybe I ought to take a woodworking class.”
Date chuckled. “Well, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, Inuken-san.”
“That's my line!”, he barked.
“Ha-ha!” Date laughed in triumph. “Not this time it isn't!” Inuken only huffed in response.
Tsukauchi chuckled, and smiled. “Maybe you two have got a point. Wasn’t around for the golden age of tattooed backs and rough streets. No Symbol of Peace, or all.”
Date continued. “And a lot more occasions where, between pragmatism and idealism…well, sometimes as a cop you had to do what you had to do. And for me, well…that meant being pals with guys who were…a little on the other side of the law. Only on a temporary basis, of course.” He really hoped that he sounded convincing, and not like a crooked cop. A lot of the other guys in his department knew about it, and looked the other way for the results in provided, but would Tsukauchi? Naive, Pro Hero-orshiping Tsukauchi?
Date tried to ignore the sweat droplet dripping down the side of his head, growing itchy. He forced his eyes away from his coworker, hoping he wasn't tempting the use of his Quirk. Dammit, why does Inuken keep the heat so high? Probably so we’ll drink more.
Thankfully, Tsukauchi shrugged in understanding. “It was a different time, I guess. Well, sure makes it nice to have the Pros around to help us out now, hmm? Era of Peace sure hits different. Though, I'll agree that most aren’t All Might. Some of ‘em care too much about fame, sure. More Underground Heroes wouldn't go amiss”, he admitted.
Inuken nodded. “I’ll be at the bar if you two need anything.”
At that, Date relaxed a bit, even while sighing internally. He had to remember to thank the dog-faced bartender later for lightening the mood. Sure, Tsukauchi was a bit… well, a bit too eager to delegate to Heroes. Date could understand the sentiment. But if it meant his coworker not asking too much about recent events in Nagasaki, he was fine. Least it’s not an interrogation. “Been meaning to ask something else though, Tsukauchi-san.”
“Yes?”
“Where’d you get the coat?”
The younger man grinned. “Believe it or not, last haberdasher in the ward, old man. Isn’t that where you get all your accessories?”
Ah, the classic temporal line of humor. Date could certainly hold his own on the receiving end of that conversation. Better that than awkward questions about the whereabouts of the Dragon of Dojima, or 18-Counts Saejima, and certainly not the Mad Dog of Shimano.
HPSC Headquarters, Tokyo
Of all the tense meetings that Daigo Dojima had taken part in, he never would’ve expected that a sit-down with a non-criminal organization would be the most nerve-wracking. A couple of weeks had passed since the official end of the Tojo Clan, and yet Daigo couldn’t help but feel like he was still acting as the clan’s Chairman. Perhaps it was down to the dangerous company he found himself in at the moment. The shady dealings, too, were familiar territory. Or maybe it was just a role that he'd been playing for so long that the feeling would never fade, rather like the Immovable Wisdom King on his back. In a way, he had to envy Watase, sitting to his left. Compared to Daigo, he’d not been a Patriarch for that long.
Sitting in the headquarters of the Hero Public Safety Commission, Daigo and Watase were finalizing terms of their new Tojomi Security Company. As part of months-long negotiations with the HPSC and police, they were allowed a security company formed out of the members of their respective clans. As long as they followed the law, they would’ve been allowed to get away with, essentially, restructuring to meet a changing world. It would’ve seemed too good to be true, had Daigo not been intimately involved with months of negotiations.
All the terms had been agreed upon long before this meeting. Two of the largest remaining yakuza organizations would be disbanded, but without having to fight the type of lengthy struggle that would have resulted from a crackdown, even with Pro Heroes involved. The HPSC could claim another victory in their war against organized crime, and the former Tojo and Omi would be allowed to dictate some of the terms of their exit, without ending up in either prison or a graveyard.
All this was still true. So what was causing Daigo’s frayed nerves? For starters, the woman sitting across from him, President Sayaka Kinoshita, definitely had the vibes of a Patriarch down. Maybe she would’ve been one for real, were it not for women being barred from most leadership positions. Her observance of customs was impeccable, of course but it was hard to miss the way she carried the power and weight of her position. Madam President, of course, was one of the most powerful people in Japan. She knew it, Daigo and Watase knew it, she knew they knew it, and she knew that they knew that she knew it.
Repetitive abuse of the word ‘knew’, aside, Daigo had a more personal reason for his current stress. That reason being the reappearance, then the second disappearance of the man he called his father. Kazuma Kiryu had shown up unannounced during the Great Dissolution, helping fight off the elements of their respective who had decided that they preferred to keep them going, thank you very much. Kiryu’s prowess in a brawl had been certainly welcome then.
The only problem was that Kazuma Kiryu was supposed to be dead. This was the cause of a few…uncomfortable questions. “Interrogations” would have been more accurate, but one did not get far in the underworld without deft application of euphemisms.
Hands steepled in front of her head, the questioning began. “So let me get this clear for our records…neither of you were aware of Kazuma Kiryu’s whereabouts or status before he made himself known to you?”
As Kiryu had approached the former Omi head first, Watase was the first to respond. “No, Madam President. Kiryu-san approached me first. Didn’t even know he was still alive. He mentioned something about having been sent to me.
“Did he mention the names of his backers? Was there anyone else with him?”
“There were a few other men, but they didn’t identify themselves…when the fighting was over, they just took off. They also took Kosei Shishido with them in their car.” At that, the older woman quirked an eyebrow, glancing towards one of the identically-dressed men on either side of her desk. The man nodded his head.
“He’s telling the truth, ma’am.” Daigo couldn’t get a read on what the men were. Certainly, one had a truth-detection quirk, but with the identical suits, sunglasses, and earpieces, Daigo had to wonder if the men were merely bodyguards or also advisors.
“Hmm. And you, Dojima-san?”
Focusing back on the conversation, Daigo voiced his assent. “I wasn’t given any advance warning, either. I only saw him while we fought against the other yakuza. Like Watase-san said, they left when the fighting was over. I recall them mentioning taking Shishido back, but we’ve not seen him, either. Alive or dead.”
Again, Madam President looked to the man on her left, who again nodded in confirmation of the other two men’s honesty.”
“...I see. No matter, then. If neither of you are aware of the reason for Kiryu-san's actions or of his whereabouts, then there is no reason to ask any more questions about it.” Her hands moved down to rest on her desk. “Therefore, we won’t consider it a breach of our agreement. Much as neither of us like them, unforeseen circumstances do happen.”
“On that, even I have to agree.”, Daigo thought. Still, the HPSC had unintentionally revealed some information with interesting implications. For a while, Daigo had wondered if Kiryu had been working with the HPSC during the Great Dissolution, perhaps as one of their dreaded black ops heroes. Rumors had been spreading that Lady Nagant hadn’t been seen for a few years. Not her, nor her telltale marks of her kills. Hence, one of the underworld’s most popular topics of speculation had been her replacement. By asking what Daigo and Watase knew of Kiryu’s whereabouts, it meant that Daigo could cross that possibility off his list. It was frustrating, since the “HPSC Replacement” theory was one that Daigo thought was the most credible. If Kiryu wasn’t with the HPSC, then who? What kind of organization was outside even their knowledge?
As he pondered this, the President slid a paper across her desk to the two men, along with a pen on a chain. “You know the drill, gentlemen. Simply sign on the necessary forms, and the HPSC will grant Tojomi Security an approval of its application for Level 1 Quirk Permits, befitting a security company. Who knows? Keep up appearances, help keep the streets clean, and we can schedule a review and re-issuance of your permits in three years’ time.”
Level 1 Quirk Usage Permits. In absolute terms, it wasn’t that much. Essentially, according to the terms of Daigo and Watase’s agreement with the Safety Commission, Tojomi Security would be governed similarly to a low-level Hero Agency-a small percentage of their employees would be allowed to use their Quirks while on the job, and even that was reliant upon weekly reviews by the HPSC. Every employee they wanted to be granted on-the-job Quirk usage would have to receive further vetting by the HPSC. Outside of Quirk usage, their employees would be able to be hired as private security. Even with heroes around, there was still a reasonable market for it, so long as Tojomi abstained from any illegal work and worked with the authorities by reporting such queries. Very few ex-Tojo members had Quirks, of course, but a few Omi ones did.
In the meantime, as part of the agreement, Tojomi were not able to advertise themselves the same way any other Hero Agency would. That meant no marketing agreements, or any of their lucrative earnings. In exchange, though, they were able to focus their hiring on yakuza and ex-yakuza; again, subject to vetting and HPSC review. That last detail benefitted both parties-Tojomi would get a ready pool of new hires, and less ex-yakuza would be forced to go back into crime to make ends meet, keeping the streets safe.
All these details had been hashed out months in advance, and yet Daigo went through them in his head one last time as he provided his signature in the necessary areas. Certainly, it wouldn’t be Daigo’s first time dealing with law enforcement in the aim of doing business. Fortunately, this time the deal was above board. Daigo was done with backroom dealings with corrupt officials- he had learned his lesson with Munakata and Richardson. At last, with one last stroke of his pen, Tojomi Security had officially been founded. Daigo let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. He wasn’t the only one; Watase and the President were also eager to see months of negotiations bear fruit.
Sliding the agreement back towards her side of the desk, the President nodded, looking more relaxed than she had before. “Very good, gentlemen. I think we’ll all benefit from this arrangement-and I’m sure you know I don’t just mean the three of us.”
Standing, Daigo and Watase bowed to the President. “I hope to meet again in three years’ time, then." Daigo said.
“It was pleasure doing business with you.” Watase added.
Watching the two men bow, a rare smile made its way onto the President’s face, barely perceptible even to those who knew her. Despite the weakening of the yakuza over the years, it was better to let some of them take a respectful exit when offered.
“If I may, gentlemen…” The men, straightening up from their bows, were surprised to see the President standing and giving her own bow. Kinoshita wanted to remind them that this was a meeting of equals, not an imposition of one side’s demands on the other. “On behalf of the Hero Public Safety Commission, we're glad you made the right call. Thanks to our efforts, Japan will be safer.”
Returning her smile, Dojima responded, “The pleasure was ours, Madam President.”
X
A few minutes later, Keigo Takami, hero name Hawks, entered the office. “Saw the meeting with the two yakuzies, ma’am. Would’ve introduced myself to them on the way out, but I figured they had enough on their minds.”
The older woman nodded. “You’ll get a chance to introduce yourself soon enough. Getting a good working relationship with them is key.”
“You know, I still think we should’ve done ‘em in like we used to.” One of Madam President’s department heads, Hidemi Bando, spoke up. Despite Bando’s effectiveness as a servant of the Public Safety Commission, and as a coordinator, his preference of bosses was more than clear.
Madam President frowned. “I’d prefer to move away from those kinds of tactics. We saw how that affected poor Lady Nagant. Moreover, as you’ve just seen, my way gets results. With a few pen strokes and a few months of negotiations, I’ve taken more yakuza off the streets than he ever did.” She leaned back. “If they renege on their deal, so be it, but I’ve got a feeling they won’t. After all, you catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.”
Bando scowled. “Maybe so, but I can think of a few better ways we can use some ex-yakuza goons. Ways that’ll keep them under our thumb better than letting them go to the private sector.”
“Worry not Bando, I’m well aware of your “suggestions”, and my stance on them is still clear.” Sayaka Kinoshita didn't raise her voice, but her words brooked no doubt, conveying pure dismissal. “Perhaps my predecessor would’ve gone with a plan like yours, but I intend to lead new era for the HPSC.” Hawks decided not to comment on his currently-unchanged status within the organization. That was a conversation with Kinoshita for later.
Bando scoffed. “Just a few well-placed men, and we could have a whole army of Nagants-”
“Yes, and we saw just how well having one went. If you’re the next president, you can test out how good that'll be for your health”, Kinoshita interrupted. "But for now, I'm president, and this conversation is over.
Chuckling at the President’s last remark, Hawks chimed in, “And that’s why she’s the prez and you’re not, Bando.” As his laughter faded, he rubbed his chIn with his hand. “So they really had nothing to say about this… ‘Dragon of Dojima’, huh? Well, damn. But if he’s with them, then who could possibly be hiding his existence from them?”
X
“I was wondering about that myself, actually. Who the hell could make Kiryu-han disappear from even the Safety Commission?”
Watase and Daigo had begun discussing the same topic as soon as they’d entered the limo back to Tojomi’s new headquarters.
“No idea. I’d almost prefer if he was with the Safety Commission.” Daigo’s brow furrowed as he crossed his arms. “At least that way he’d be in a public facing-role, where we can ask him ourselves.” Finally, he sighed. “It’s meaningless to speculate with the information we have. I’ve got a feeling that whoever he’s with, they’re not going to involve themselves for quite a while-and when they do, they’ll probably avoid the both of us.”
“A group so sneaky even the Pros don’t got an inkling where he is…now there’s a rabbit hole. Least we know Kiryu-han’s still alive, though.”
“At least…” Kiryu-san. Father. Wherever you are, just send me a sign you’re out there, and that you’ll show up again if we need your help. Please…That’d be enough for me.
“Well, best to chin up for the men. After all, we’ve got a new security company to ring in! Humph, come to think of it, though…corporate parties aren’t near as fun as the wild times me ‘n the boys would get up to back in the day. Damn.”
“I’m sure the men will be happy all the same, Watase-san.” Daigo had to smile at the Kansai man’s optimism. Watase did have reason to be optimistic, he supposed. And so did Daigo. After all, the hard part of setting up Tojomi was already done.
As the limo drove away from the HPSC headquarters, Daigo glanced one last time at the building. Even if it was successful, meeting with the Commission didn’t feel all that different to any of the yakuza meetings he’d been to. Daigo tried not to think too hard about the implications of hero society that that thought conjured.
Just like that, the uneasiness from earlier was back. He tried to occupy his mind with business. He remembered that he had to call Majima-san later, formally invite him to the company. He recalled him mentioning getting lunch with Saejima and his cousin as a catch-up get-together. Sounded like a lot more fun than what he was doing.