Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The silence in the Armed Detective Agency office was thick, almost like a warning.

Ochako sat with the closed folder on her lap. Her fingers toyed with the flap without opening it, as if that could delay the inevitable. She knew the basics, an undercover mission, but it felt different from the others. Across from her, Ranpo slowly spun in his chair, his eternal lollipop in his mouth, and Dazai... her father, stood by the window, arms crossed, gaze lost beyond the glass.

He said nothing. He just observed.

That was his way of saying the situation was serious. If there weren't constant jokes, something was wrong.

"This mission," Ranpo began, stretching lazily, "is not like the others. It's not about going in, finding something, and getting out. This time, you're going to have to live the role. Sleep in it. Breathe it."

Ochako looked up.

"Am I replacing someone?"

"Yourself," Dazai replied without turning. His voice was low, firm.

Ochako felt a shiver run down her spine.

"You're replacing the version of you that can't do this," her father added, now turning to look directly at her. "No one must know who you are. Not your classmates. Not your enemies. Not even you, if you want this to work."

Ranpo took out his lollipop and twirled it between his fingers.

"And for nothing in the world should you get attached. To anyone. To anything. That ruins undercover agents faster than a bullet to the head."

Ochako pressed her lips together.

She knew what it meant. She was no longer Ochako Nakahara. Not to the world. Not on this mission.

She would be whoever she was assigned to be, and this time she was a U.A. student, cheerful, bright, determined. A girl who had never set foot in Yokohama. Who knew nothing of abilities that could destroy buildings with a command.

"What if something goes wrong?" she asked, barely a whisper.

Dazai approached. He stopped in front of her, his gaze fixed on her eyes.

"Then I'll tragically kill myself to distract everyone," he said with complete seriousness.

Ochako blinked.

"Dad..."

"I'm kidding, I won't, but seriously Ocha... you can't fail."

"You can, just don't," Ranpo murmured without looking at them.

"She won't," Dazai sighed, and then crouched down a bit to be at her height. "Listen, Ochako. I'm not sending you because I want to. Nor because I don't care. I'm sending you because you're the only one who can do it... and because I trust you. More than anyone."

She swallowed.

Her eyes burned, but she wasn't going to cry. Not in front of him, it's not like she never had, God knows how many times she cried in her parents' arms over ridiculous things when she was a little girl. But she couldn't cry now, not with this mission on her shoulders.

She nodded. She took the folder.

And as she walked out the door, she felt like she was leaving her real name hanging on the doorknob.

Present – U.A.

"Bakugo got electrocuted again!" Mina shouted, laughing.

"That wasn't it! It was Kaminari, idiot!" Bakugo growled from his seat.

"Everything hurts..." Kaminari groaned, head on his desk. "I think my neurons shut down."

"You had some?" Jirou commented, provoking more laughter.

Ochako smiled with them, pretending to be relaxed, just like always.

And in part... yes, she was calm. It was easy to get carried away by the rhythm of the class, by the energy of her classmates. Training, laughter, silly jokes. Everything a teenager was supposed to have.

But deep down, she couldn't stop hearing her father's voice.

"Don't forget who you are, but don't show it either."

She touched the small pendant hidden under her uniform blouse.

A gift from Chuuya, her dad, before she left. He didn't say much. He rarely did when it came to ADA missions. But he put that pendant around her neck with a strange, almost melancholic expression.

"So you don't forget where you come from."

Yokohama.

The name still hurt as if it were branded into her bones. Maybe it was.—Good morning —Aizawa interrupted, entering the classroom with his usual reluctance.

The group straightened in their seats. The atmosphere suddenly calmed.

—I have an important announcement —he said, placing some papers on his desk—. Due to current circumstances and for your safety, the administration has decided to temporarily relocate class 1-A.

Everyone looked at him, expectant.

—Relocate how? —Iida asked.

—You will be transferred to a safe, sealed city, under special surveillance. We leave tomorrow.

A murmur rose among the students. Some excited faces. Others confused.

—And where are we going? —Sero asked.

Aizawa observed them for a moment. His gaze passed over everyone... and lingered for just a fraction of a second longer on Ochako.

—To Yokohama.

Ochako's heart stopped.

Literally, for a second, it stopped.

She didn't hear the rest. The questions, the complaints, the explanations. Everything became a distant hum. She only heard her ragged breathing. She only felt the weight of that name falling on her chest.

She was going back.

To the city where they knew her.

To the city where she was born.

Where she wasn't Uraraka Ochako, but Ochako Nakahara.

She would return as an impostor, walking through streets she once loved.

And this time, surrounded by people who didn't know half of what she was.

And the worst part was that, in some dark corner of that city, someone was waiting for her.

Chapter Text

The phone ring under the pillow.

It was 2:36 AM.

Toga Himiko was awake, as always. The room was an empty, old box, in some lost corner of a suburb she wouldn't remember. She liked being far away. She liked listening to other people's heartbeats more than her own.

She swiped her finger across the screen and opened the message. It was short, direct.

"Mission accomplished. You can return. —M."

She read it once.

And again.

And a third time, just to make sure she hadn't imagined it.

Her lips curved slightly. She didn't smile fully. She didn't need to.

Yokohama.

She didn't miss it. Not as a city. But... There were people there she couldn't completely leave behind. Her place was the Port Mafia, the people there, her people and the closest thing she would ever have to a family.

She turned off the screen. She put the phone under the pillow and lay back down, on her back, staring at the cracked ceiling.

She no longer had to pretend to be anyone else.

She could go back to being simply Himiko

Chuuya's subordinate (his favorite, according to her), the wraith of the Port Mafia.

The day was gray. Not rainy, not cold, just... gray.

Ochako stood with her classmates in front of the U.A. High School. Behind her, Aizawa drank a cup of coffee while reviewing papers. No one spoke much.

She did, internally.

Her mind was racing.

I'm coming back. After months. What if I recognize someone and don't know how to shut up? It's obvious I'm going to recognize someone, what the hell. What if... my voice trembles when I talk to him?

The roar of the approaching bus pulled her from her thoughts. It was long, black, with no visible identification. The windows were tinted. It was so striking in its lack of details that it became intimidating.

The driver got out. And her heart skipped a beat.

"I am Doppo Kunikida, a member of the Armed Detective Agency. From this moment on, I will be in charge of your transfer and coordination in Yokohama," he said, firmly, wasting no time on pleasantries.

He had a notebook in his hand, and although his expression was neutral, it was clear he was making a mental list of everything that was going wrong at that moment.

"Get on. The trip will take between four and five hours," he added, turning towards the bus.

Ochako followed him without making eye contact.

Almost.

For a second, she felt it. That quick glance. It wasn't harsh, nor evaluative. It was... recognition.

Kunikida said nothing.

Neither did she.

But they knew.

He obviously knew who she was, she grew up watching her father bother him, Kunikida was basically like an uncle to her. And that's why she knew he wouldn't say a word.

An hour later, the trip was as silent as it could be with more than twenty teenagers on the move.

Some slept, others talked in low voices. Bakugo wore headphones, visibly irritated by being cooped up for so long. Denki whispered with Mina. Tsuyu read a book.

Ochako looked out the window. The landscape was increasingly empty.

"We'll make a stop," Kunikida announced from the front.

It was a station in the middle of nowhere: clean bathrooms, a vending machine, a couple of old benches. They all got off, Aizawa disappeared into the bathroom with surprising speed.

Ochako was the first to return to the bus.

She got on, walked to her seat, but stopped.

"May I...?" she asked, almost in a whisper.

Kunikida raised an eyebrow. He nodded.

She sat in the seat next to his, looking straight ahead.

"Is everything still the same?"

Kunikida took a second.

"Yes. Nothing has changed."

Ochako nodded. She swallowed.

The silence lasted long enough to become awkward. But not for them.

"How’s everything going?" she asked. Not like a nostalgic child, but like an undercover agent who needed to know if the ground was still the same.

"Stable. Still no conflicts. But... tense. As always."

Yokohama never slept. It only pretended to.

"Thank you," she said, and returned to her seat without looking back.The last hour of the journey passed quickly. And as they approached the large structure that separated the world outside from the world of Yokohama, the bus filled with a light, invisible gas.

No one saw it coming. No one had time to react.

Ochako barely managed to think "It's coming" before her eyes completely closed.

"Wake up. We're here."

Kunikida's voice woke them up one by one.

Aizawa frowned, but said nothing. He knew that procedure was necessary. After all, the people of Yokohama always protected how they entered and exited the city.

"We are at the Armed Detective Agency," Kunikida informed.

The room was large, bright, but very different from what they were used to. There were no hero posters or motivational phrases here. Only books, folders, and a pressure in the air that made them feel out of place.

A boy with messy hair and a rather strange cap was eating chips in a corner. Ranpo looked at them as if he knew who had stolen an extra cookie before bed.

"Welcome to Yokohama, he said in a soft, mocking voice. If you think of surviving here, think of this like a pop quiz… you're going to fail.

"Ranpo…" Kunikida sighed. "Please."

"What? I'm being honest"

Kunikida took out his notebook and began to explain the basics.

"In this city, quirks do not exist. Here, abilities exist, which function differently. They manifest with their own complex rules. And, in many cases, they are dangerous and more powerful than quirks"

Ranpo added:

"There are also people without abilities, but that doesn't make them any less lethal. Yokohama is not a training ground. It's a minefield with rules."

"There are three organizations that maintain order, Kunikida continued: us, the Agency. The Special Division for Unusual Powers… and the Port Mafia"

Several expressions tensed at that last name.

"If you see people dressed in black, with a "if you talk to me I'll bury you" look, stay away. Seriously", Ranpo said. "Don't mess with the Port Mafia."

And then, as if it were part of the script...

"Oh! Did it start without me?"

Dazai Osamu entered the room, smiling, with his typical tone between bored and charming.

"Dazai, Kunikida said, gritting his teeth. "You're late."

"And what would a presentation be without a grand finale?"

The laughter was soft, uncomfortable. Most of the students didn't know if he was serious or not.

But Ochako…

Her heart broke in her chest. She saw him. Her dad. Smiling, acting as if he didn't know her. As if they hadn't hugged in months. As if she hadn't spent every night missing him so much it hurt.

She almost, almost shed a tear.

But she breathed. She composed herself. She pretended.

She didn't move a muscle.

Ranpo watched her closely. Dazai too, out of the corner of his eye.

And although no one else noticed, there was a second when father and daughter recognized each other in silence.

A glance. A restraint. A shared burden.

And the moment passed.

The show went on.

As always.

Chapter Text

"Stupid dad!" Ochako's voice echoed throughout the apartment. Small and determined, her round face filled with pride as she held up a crayon drawing: A tall, skinny figure with messy hair, another short figure with a hat, and in the middle, a smiling girl with twisted pigtails. "This is you, and this is stupid dad!"

Chuuya, who was coming out of the kitchen with a cup of tea, stopped dead in his tracks.

"What did you say?"

"Stupid Dad!" she repeated, this time pointing her little finger at Dazai, who was lying on the sofa with a book in his hands.

Dazai barely moved. He just glanced at Chuuya with a lazy smile and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

"You see, Chuuya, your verbal abuse has paid off. Our daughter recognizes me by my real name."

"That's not your name, you bastard!" Chuuya snapped, slamming the cup down on the table. "I told you not to say that in front of her!"

"You're the one who always calls me that," Dazai replied, raising his hands with feigned innocence. "I'm just a victim of your bad influence."

Ochako blinked, confused. Then she approached Dazai and climbed onto his lap, as she always did.

"So... your name isn't stupid?"

"Mmh... only when your dad is upset," Dazai whispered with a smile. "But you can keep saying it, it doesn't bother me."

"Yes! stupid dad!" Ochako laughed.

"Are you encouraging her?" Chuuya shouted from the hallway, on the verge of hysteria.

"Of course not..." Dazai whispered as he tickled Ochako, causing a wave of laughter.

That night, Dazai was the one who put her to bed. He combed her hair with his fingers until her little eyes closed. He didn't say anything. He just left her favorite stuffed animal under her arm and sat by the bed for a moment longer.

Hours later, Dazai approached Ochako's room quietly. She was sleeping, still hugging a stuffed animal, but her cheeks were still wet. She had cried because of a nightmare.

Chuuya appeared at the door, a blanket over his shoulders and a sleepy look on his face.

"Did she have nightmares again?"

"Some evil ghosts," Dazai said without looking at him. "But they're gone now."

Chuuya sighed, approached, and left a soft kiss on the girl's forehead.

"I told you not to spoil her."

"And I told you not to talk like a sailor in front of her."

"That was your fault!"

"She gets all her bad habits from you," Dazai smiled.

Ochako didn't know it at the time. But those memories would be the refuge she would return to whenever the world became too much to bear.

The explanation was over, but the air remained tense. Even after Dazai settled himself onto one of the ADA's sofas as if nothing had happened, with a mischievous smile and no intention of apologizing for being late, the class couldn't relax.

Ranpo continued eating chips as if he were watching a comedy, while Kunikida mentally noted all the logistical problems that would entail.

"Director Nezu insisted that they be housed here, under our direct supervision," said Kunikida, addressing Aizawa, who nodded silently, still analyzing every word.

"Where will we sleep?" asked Mina, breaking the silence as she swayed slightly on her feet, trying to ease the tension with her cheerful tone.

"We have prepared a wing of the building just for you," replied Kunikida. "The rooms are not mixed, for obvious reasons. But you can choose who to share it with."

A murmur ran through the class. Kirishima and Bakugo glanced at each other briefly, as if they already knew the answer. Mina immediately turned to Jirou. Izuku seemed to hesitate, his gaze reflexively turning to Ochako... who stepped forward before he could open his mouth.

"Can I be alone?" she asked, her tone calm but firm. The silence that followed was uncomfortable. Not because it was a strange request, but because... there was something in her voice. In the way she stood up straight. Something that didn't seem to match the Uraraka they knew.

"You can. We have enough rooms," said Kunikida.

Dazai glanced at her from the sofa, but said nothing. He just crossed his arms behind his head, whistling a tune that only she recognized from her years at home.

Ochako didn't look at him.

She couldn't.

Her legs moved automatically as she followed the group down the hallways. Kunikida walked ahead, explaining that the building was divided into zones and that their wing was isolated, guarded, and equipped with the necessary amenities. Nothing luxurious. Nothing comfortable. But safe. Too safe.

Like a well-painted cage.

The hallway where their bedrooms were located had double doors, each with a number.

She entered hers and closed it without saying a word. Silence enveloped her immediately.

There was a bed, a shelf with folded sheets, a desk, and a small window overlooking the city.

Yokohama.

After so many months, she was back.

And everything was the same. Everything... except her.

She sat down on the bed. She slowly took off her shoes. Every part of her body trembled unnoticeably.

Every corner of that room smelled like the city that saw her grow up, that trained her, that taught her to harden her gaze and hide her tears.

Her dad was a few hallways away. And she couldn't hug him.

Because she wasn't Ochako Nakahara.

Not there.

Not yet.

The night passed without incident.

The next morning was a whirlwind of organization.

The class was taken to ADA headquarters for an "adaptation briefing." Aizawa insisted on keeping everything as structured as possible to prevent his students from feeling disoriented, but even so, there was tension at every turn.

The Armed Detective Agency was a peculiar building: modern in some parts, traditional in others.

The large meeting room looked like something out of an old novel, with wood paneling and tall windows.

It was the strategic center of the organization, and now, the temporary meeting point between two worlds.

The class lined up in front of a long table.

Ranpo sat with his feet up on it, as if waiting for popcorn. Atsushi stood in a corner, greeting them with a slight bow. Kunikida gave instructions on how they were expected to behave in the city, and Dazai... Dazai was strangely quiet.

"I want to make something clear, even though it has already been mentioned yesterday, I need you to really understand it," Kunikida said seriously. "If you come across someone in black clothes, especially suits or formal uniforms, stay away. They are members of the Port Mafia. Don't interfere, don't provoke them. The relationship between organizations is stable, but delicate.

"What if one of them attacks us?" asked Bakugo, arms crossed.

"They won't. Unless you do it first," Ranpo interjected, smiling. "Although, of course... there are exceptions."

"What kind of exceptions?" asked Mina.

"The ones that come in without knocking," said a voice from the doorway.

All eyes turned.

A figure had slipped into the room without anyone noticing. Or rather... without anyone being able to stop them.

Black skirt. Black blazer. Immaculate white shirt. Dark shoes that echoed on the wood. The uniform of a member of the Port Mafia.

Blonde hair tied back in two side ponytails.

A crooked smile.

Toga Himiko.

"TOGA HIMIKO?!" several people shouted at once, some in fear, others in anger, others... in complete confusion.

Izuku stepped back reflexively.

Bakugo activated his quirk without thinking. Kirishima reflexively stood in front of Mina.

But Toga just walked to the center of the room, with one hand on a bag with something.

"How sensitive. I just came to drop something" she said, her voice soft but sinister.

Ochako swallowed hard. Her whole body was screaming "danger," but not because of Toga.

It was because the scene she had feared most... was about to begin.

She was there, in front of her.

And now, there was no way to keep hiding the inevitable... although she could still try, and she would, her mission was not yet over.