I stepped into the grand foyer of my home, the marble floors echoing each footstep as I walked past the towering columns and priceless art. The place screamed wealth; every inch was a testament to power and privilege. My father had always believed that money wasn't just a tool—it was a weapon, sharper than any blade or quirk. And we wielded it like kings.

A butler bowed as I passed, murmuring a respectful "Welcome home, Master Izuku," before disappearing into one of the many hallways. I nodded absently, my mind still halfway back at the UA Villain Spa and the look Shigaraki had given me. That mix of annoyance and trust, begrudging but there.

I reached the massive study at the end of the hall, the heavy wooden doors already slightly ajar. Pushing them open, I was greeted by the sight of my father, All for One, seated in his high-backed leather chair, a glass of aged whiskey in hand. The dim lighting cast long shadows over the room, accentuating his ever-composed expression.

"Ah, Izuku." His voice was warm, even affectionate, but I knew better than to mistake it for softness. He set the glass down on a mahogany table, fingers steepled as he turned his attention fully to me. "How was your day at school?" The emphasis on the word made it clear he found my dual life amusing.

I smirked, slipping into the leather chair opposite him. "Eventful as always. Your beloved League is still adapting. Shigaraki's adjusting... reluctantly, of course."

A flicker of interest sparked in his eyes. He leaned forward slightly, the gleam of a strategist calculating his next move. "And how is he, truly?" he asked, his voice deceptively casual. "Our Tomura."

I knew my father's concern for Shigaraki was complicated. He saw him as an heir, a project, someone to shape and mold. But there was more to it than that; there was genuine care buried under layers of manipulation and ambition.

I shifted, crossing one leg over the other. "He's restless but playing along. I made sure the facility is impenetrable, just as you wanted. He's not going anywhere, even if he wanted to."

A slow smile spread across All for One's face. "Good. We wouldn't want our little bird to fly before he's ready, now would we?" He picked up his glass, swirling the amber liquid before taking a sip. "And the others? Dabi, Toga, Kurogiri?"

"They're watching and waiting," I said, shrugging. "The rehab center's a cage, but they trust me enough to believe there's a plan. And they love me enough to know I wouldn't let them get caught up in something without reason."

"Ah, yes. Your... unique relationship with them." He chuckled, a low rumble that resonated in the room. "A bond forged through necessity and nurtured with subtlety. It's remarkable, really, how you've managed to straddle both worlds, Izuku."

"Money helps," I said, grinning. "It always does."

He inclined his head, acknowledging the truth in my words. To him, money was the ultimate quirk—a means to bend reality, to control, to conquer without lifting a finger. And to me, it was no different. Quirkless or not, I knew how to play the game better than most heroes with their flashy powers.

"Izuku, you understand why all of this is important, don't you?" All for One's tone shifted, turning serious. "Shigaraki is key, but so are you. One day, when the world shifts, when we've turned everything on its head, they'll realize it wasn't just strength or quirks that reshaped society. It was intellect, influence, and wealth."

I nodded, the weight of his words pressing down like a physical thing. "I know, Dad. And when that day comes, they'll see what power really looks like."

He leaned back, satisfied, and lifted his glass in a silent toast. "To that day," he said, his eyes gleaming.

I raised an imaginary glass, the corner of my mouth lifting in a smirk. "To that day."

And as we sat there in that luxurious room, the city sprawled out below us like a kingdom waiting to be ruled, I felt it—the certainty that, in this world, power wasn't always loud. Sometimes, it was the quiet whisper of money changing hands, the invisible strings pulled by unseen fingers. And no one knew how to pull them better than the Midoriya family.