Well, I'm way behind for my Coby's Choice chapter for this week, but the muse would not let me stop. Wish me luck for the rest of the week on that. Moving on, the Sports Festival is over but time continues to move. Let's see what happens, but first:

Gamelover41592: And they will keep watching for a while longer, but I can't wait for the reveal of their identities. People will flip.

Jayfeather's Friend: I, too, have an unhealthy obsession with AC and am disappointed in the lack of good crossovers. When I couldn't find a long story for MHA, I decided "well, I guess I have to do it myself!" Please enjoy.

LegionnaireBlaze: You think there are only three groups? LOL!

Monkey D. Conan: I took your thoughts to heart and you'll see what I mean in this chapter. I have a few ideas of my own, but I'm open to suggestions. Now we get to see some of the fallout from our protags' performances as they are pushed deeper into the shadows of the real world.

RomanWolfEater: Thank you!

Souloman: A lot to cover here, so let's get started. Yeah, Keeper, Nekoi, and Mentor have some history you all don't know about, as every good story should do. And indeed, Tensei can keep a calm head. Far better than Tenya, anyway.

I'm glad you approved of my changes to Awase's Quirk and Burnin's plans. The Assassins aren't the only ones who can be discreet. Maybe we will have a flashback chapter for Nekoi, but I'm not sure if we will or not. If we do, I know how it will happen but not quite when. And, I'm so glad you liked the changes to the rules for the final matches. I haven't seen it used anywhere else, but I think it would be so much more interesting.

Who the bloody hell do you think they are? I mean, I know, and I hope you flip when their identities are revealed in true AC style. And, did you ask for more Kanri and Okame? Here you go! Yeah, Izuku didn't win, but Momo could have at any time. She was just waiting to know which plan she needed to implement, the one for Izuku or the one for Yanagi.

Wizardwolf 1020: We covered your gripes in our PMs and, as I said there, why the Osaka Brotherhood wears robes will stay a secret for a while longer. And I believe you mentioned before you felt Ochako was being sidelined. Well, I know how she will become more involved in the future, but there is only so much that can fit in any one chapter. That said, I hope you enjoy this chapter and look forward to how she will be involved in the future.

Now, on to the chapter!

Chapter 19:

Factions

"Midoriya!" Izuku stopped mid-sentence, turning away from his conversation with Shinso and Momo as all three turned to see the rest of 1-A and part of 1-B coming their way. At their head was Kirishima with Tetsutetsu close behind. Notably, Shoto, Bakugo, Iida, and Monoma were absent. "Yaoyorozu! Man, that was awesome! You two really showed off what you could do!"

"Ah, Kirishima," Momo smiled as the group caught up to them. "Thank you for your praise."

"Ah, hey guys," the verdet muttered. "Er, you're here, Tokage, so I guess I'll go ahead and say it. I wanted to tell you sorry."

"You… do?" the green-haired girl blinked.

"Well, I didn't mean anything by the way I won our match," Izuku explained, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't know you had a healing factor until Awase mentioned it after my match with him. If I'd known that, I would have gone about our fight differently. I mean, if you're able to regrow an eye, I would have gone for your head, which wouldn't have been nearly as embarrassing if more gruesome."

"I…" Tokage floundered. "You didn't know I have a healing factor?"

"No…? When would I have learned you do? Kendo never mentioned it during any of our meetings."

Tokage let out a hard breath, running a hand through your hair. "Man, you make it really hard to stay mad at you. Fine, between that and what Yanagi did to you, I guess we're even." She smirked. "So… heart print, huh?"

"Can we not mention that?" Izuku asked, a blush covering his face. "I'm going to get so much flack for that from my gym buddies already, I don't need it from you, too."

"Midori, I need to apologize, too," Mina said, stepping into the conversation. "I overreacted for… personal reasons… and took it out on you. That wasn't cool of me and if Setsuna here isn't going to hold a grudge, then I really don't have an excuse to, either. Friends?"

"Friends," Izuku smiled, accepting Mina's offered hand. She pulled him in, her mouth close to his ear.

"But if you ever start acting like the perverted grape, I will melt your balls and let you plead for death, begging for a mercy that will never come," she whispered, quickly backing away with an innocent smile. "Well, I don't know about you all, but all the excitement has me worn out. I can't imagine how you guys feel having fought!"

"It was quite taxing," Momo agreed. "Say, why don't we take an excursion to dine as a group? My treat."

"I've got a craving for ramen if you're offering," Tokage suggested. "I know this great hole-in-the-wall."

"You can acquire noodles from a hole within a structure?" Momo blinked. "That does not sound sanitary."

"You're so cute, Yaomomo!" Mina laughed, her and Tokage leading the rich girl away by the arms.

"Hey, Shinso," Izuku called, stopping the other student before he could walk away. Ochako and Tsuyu stopped beside Izuku, the rest of the class flowing around them. "Why don't you join us?"

"Are you sure that's alright?" he asked. "I mean, it's already a big group…"

"The more the merrier!" Ochako grinned. "Besides, Yaomomo's paying and she's filthy rich, so we can all eat our fill!"

"Come join us?" Izuku grinned, offering his hand.

Tenya Iida worried away at his lower lip, the straight-laced student pacing the hallways of the hospital. His movements were stiff, his arms bent at right angles at the elbows as he thought. His brother and father were inside, sharing a small meal from the hotel's vending machines. Such was incredibly unhealthy, deficient in nearly every vitamin the human body needed to function, much less the differing nutritional requirements found in the populous today, the Iida family included. But this thought took up far less space in his mind that it usually would.

"It's not usually our way, but I want you to take this slow. See what you can find before either of us jump headfirst into this. I just avoided getting pushed in, even if it cost me. I refuse to let that happen to you. If you find anything, I want you to tell me first. Deal?"

His brother's words kept bouncing around in his head, the teen trying to figure out what to do next. Unlike when he'd received Tensei's message or even when he arrived at the hospital, he could not say he knew what he would do next.

"If we're going to get involved, then we need to do this right, looking for information without letting our biases cloud our judgement."

How was that possible, Tenya wondered. How could Tensei think about this so calmly? The Hero Killer, a member of these "Assassins" ended his hero career early. He crippled Tensei, stole the use of his legs, and all but doomed all the people Tensei would have saved in the future. How could Tensei be so blesse about it? His entire life had been upended by this.

"I'm afraid that people we know are already part of this shadow war, and more than either of us could ever believe. I don't think for a moment that the Assassins' known figures are only villains."

These words might be the ones that stung Tenya the hardest. In their era, heroes were the celebrities of society, some of the highest in the food chain so to speak. They were meant to work diligently for the people without alternate agenda save supporting themselves. Yes, it would come to light now and then that some had less-than-altruistic reasons and such would inevitably happen again. Some of them were even acceptable —such as Uraraka's wish to support her family financially because she was not doing it for herself— but there were others who became heroes purely for the fame of it. If this was true, if there were heroes out there who became such not for others, then it was fully possible that there were those who became heroes who did so at the direction of others.

Or they were recruited afterward; an even more chilling prospect but one that was clearly possible, as his brother's attempted recruitment showed.

"But why is Tensei so calm about this?" Tenya hissed to himself, running a hand through his hair. "What could have…" He froze. "The man who altered his memory."

The epiphany was so profound that Tenya needed to lean against the wall for support. Whomever it was, the one who appeared at the end of his brother's message to "correct the record" must have done more than simply take his brother's memory. There must be some kind of implanted suggestion, a directive to not move against the Assassins. But why go to such lengths when they could have just killed him?

…Unless they hoped to recruit him in the future.

Tenya felt his breathing speed up. He looked down, his hands shaking uncontrollably as his mind produced worse and worse outcomes should his theory prove true. And why would it not? For Tensei to lack any animosity toward the one who ended his career was nothing short of improbable, no matter their apology or the act of sparing him. If they had a way to heal Tensei's injury, the least he could expect from them would be to demand Tensei join their ranks in return. To cripple a man, let him live in weakness, and then pull him out of it would no doubt earn his undying trust, especially if the man were to, say, not remember who crippled him in the first place as it would be if Tenya had never received that message.

Tenya closed his eyes, pressing his fists against the wall to force them to stop shaking. Much as he hated to admit it, his brother must be unknowingly compromised. It seemed Tenya would be on his own.

His phone dinged, Tenya's shaky hand reaching for his pocket automatically.

Uraraka: Iida where r u? The festivals over. Yaomomo won. Were getting ramen w/ 1B. U in?

Warmth bubbled in Tenya's gut as he read the message, the knowledge that he had friends that cared for him and wished for his presence coming to the surface, but that warmth quickly cooled. Knowing that he had such close friends only meant that he needed to be even more careful moving forward lest they get caught up in whatever this "shadow war" entailed.

'Unless they already are,' an unwanted voice whispered. Against his will, the faces of his classmates flashed through Tenya's mind, trying to label each as an Assassin or Templar despite the fact he knew almost nothing about either side. He tried to shake the thoughts away but they stuck like glue.

His phone dinged again.

Uraraka: Iida I kno u red my message. U ok?

He sucked in a breath, steadying his hands before replying.

Me: My sincerest apologies, Uraraka. My family had an emergency that required my presence. There is nothing you need concern yourself with. Please give Yaoyorozu my regards and congratulations on her victory. I shall speak to you all in class on Monday.

Uraraka: K. C u then

Tenya left the interaction there, closing his messaging app before opening his browser. If he was going to learn about these Assassins and Templars, he needed to search from every avenue, so he might as well start with the easiest to reach, even if he doubted he would find much there.

This would prove to be a long weekend.

"—and so my dad says 'young lady, you put that wreckin' ball down or so help me!' And you know me, I'm like, four or five. You can't trust a kid to understand that's a threat. So I say 'I wanna help!' and I throw the wreckin' ball."

"You didn't!" Momo gasped, a hand holding chopsticks held before her mouth.

"Oh yeah. Right into the old wall!"

Laughter filled the lot as Ochako's story reached its peak, the storyteller herself giggling with the rest of the group. The students of 1-A and 1-B had moved several picnic tables together to make a sort of triangle so everyone could intermingle, and Ochako was the fourth of them to tell a story about their childhoods. Every person had a bowl or two of noodles before them, all ordered from the little stand simply called Noodles that sat in the corner. Shinso sat among them, welcomed but still out of place.

"That's hilarious!" Kaminari laughed, wiping a tear from his eye as Aoyama commented that his story about Navel Lazer coming in was better. "I've got a story like it. This one time, I accidently killed the power to my whole street—"

Izuku smiled as Kaminari began his story, the verdet silently slurping his noodles. He felt like any other kid at the moment, just hanging out with friends after school. It was perfect.

At least, it was until he felt Tsuyu nudge his side. He turned to her, careful to not move too much, and watched her eyes dart to a far building. He could see nothing at first, but he flashed his Eagle Vision —only for a moment— and saw a flash of blue from the rooftop. As he realized what was happening, Tsuyu shifted and pulled out her phone.

"Something up, Tsu?" Ochako asked, Tsuyu miming reading a message.

"My dad texted, ribbit," she lied. "I need to go help look after my siblings."

"You have siblings?" Mina questioned.

"Two of them," the frog-girl nodded. "A younger brother and sister, ribbit."

"I've got an older sister," Sato offered.

"My younger brother is in elementary," Sero said.

"I have younger twin sisters," Tsuburaba of 1-B offered.

"I said to my teammates in the Second Round, but I have 14 siblings," Pony said.

"Fourteen‽" Toru gasped. "Damn, Pony! You Americans do things different over there!"

"No, my family lives on ranch," the horned girl waved off. "Need many hands for work. Easier than finding employees."

"That's still a lot," Mina said. "And I thought having five cousins was my claim to fame here, but you just blew that out of the water."

Tsuyu stood, bidding her friends farewell and taking her leave. Izuku waited several minutes before checking his own phone.

"Ah shoot," he gasped, dragging some attention to him. "I forgot to call my mom after we got out. She's probably worried sick. I need to head out. Sorry for leaving so suddenly."

"We do not begrudge you, Izuku," Momo said as the verdet stood. "Family is important. I would do the same if I received a call from Kyo."

"Kyo?" Toru wondered.

"My brother," the rich girl explained as Izuku left them behind, wishing them well until Monday as he did. He broke into a run a soon as he was out of earshot from them, working his way through backstreets before reaching a dumpster. Tsuyu looked down on him from a fire escape above, Master Assassin Kosho beside her.

"Good, you both made it," he said, the man and student hopping to the pavement. "Follow me."

The dumpster hid one of the Brotherhood's portals, all three slipping into the portal room silently. Tsuyu's father was waiting for them, the frog-girl embracing him quickly as their eyes met. Kosho smiled at the scene before raising a hand to get their attentions.

"Aizawa returned from the teachers' meeting and wants to debrief you both," the man said. "You two were both highly public for today, Initiate Midoriya especially after placing in the top four. Congratulations, by the way. That being said, people have seen what you can do, so think on that for a little before Aizawa askes you about it."

"I will take them," Ganma offered, Kosho offering the toadish Assassin a nod in response. He lead the pair of students to the changing rooms. They swapped into their green-trimmed robes before stepping out, Ganma leading them to the lounge. He wished them well, giving Tsuyu one more hug before the Initiates stepped inside.

Master Aizawa was there waiting for them, several papers scattered over the small table. The furniture had been replaced after Nascha's outburst, but the wear that had made the originals so comfortable was still in the process of being recreated.

"Initiates, enter," Aizawa ordered, gesturing to the couch across from him. Izuku and Tsuyu did so, sitting silently as Aizawa marked several things on one of the papers before him before handing one to each of the students.

"You're…" Izuku blinked. "You're grading our performances from the Festival?"

"I am," Aizawa nodded. "And if this were a true test, you would have come dangerously close to failing the Stealth aspect, Initiate Midoriya." Aizawa leaned back as Izuku goggled at him. "You are fortunate that our Assassins' Fist style draws inspiration and adaptivity from various styles across the world, making it difficult to identify by anyone who has not learned it themselves. But your use of your rope-dart, while highly effective, brings almost too much attention on you, especially when you allowed your ambition to overpower your reason."

"I don't understand, Master Aizawa," the verdet admitted. "What do you mean?"

Aizawa took a moment, letting Izuku's tension mount as he considered the most effective way to get his lesson across.

"Initiate Midoriya, why did you fight so hard to win?"

"Why wouldn't I?" the boy replied. "It was the UA Sports Festival. Everyone in Japan was watching and I needed to prove that I could be a hero they could rely on in the future. And I was afraid that if I couldn't win, then you would kick me out of the hero course."

"While the latter point may be true for your first match, I would not have thrown you out of the course after your performances in the first two events," Aizawa told him. "That being said, you made your point and then continued unnecessarily, showing your hand to everyone. By giving away your style, we will need to make changes to your repertoire to ensure any witnesses you may miss during your work as an Assassin do not connect your abilities to whatever hero persona you develop. Within this Brotherhood, you are an Assassin first and a hero second, and you need to understand that. You had already considered this, had you not, Initiate Asui?"

"Yes, Master," Tsuyu nodded. "I did not throw my match with Uraraka, ribbit, as that would have been disrespectful, but I cannot say I gave it my 100 percent. I am well aware that I will have internship offers from heroes who are Assassins, ribbit, so I saw no benefit in denying Uraraka the chance to show her own skills further as she does not have such an advantage."

"Well answered," Aizawa said. "Initiate Midoriya, your optimal plan would have been to give Awase a good fight in your second match before ultimately allowing him to push you out of the ring, giving yourself a respectable loss and keeping many of your skills to yourself. It certainly would have saved you some embarrassment."

Izuku felt his face flush at the memory of how his match against Yanagi ended. Beside him, Tsuyu tried and failed to stifle a mirthful ribbit.

"With all due respect, Master, wasn't this the perfect time for me to test myself against superior fighters before I attempt to do so in true life-or-death situations?"

"If you would have answered my first question with that, then I would not be calling you foolish," the Master Assassin said. "Instead, you allowed your want to succeed publicly to drive you during the Festival. Assassins should not seek the spotlight unless doing so will throw off the scent of the Templars. Few manage to pull this off, Master Kayama being the foremost example. No one would consider a hero with her… risqué persona to be a member to such a stringent and serious organization. The other high-ranked hero Assassins do not seek out the limelight but have it thrust upon them, and upon not shying away do they give the appearance that they have nothing to hide. But Midoriya, what do all these examples have that you do not?"

"A…" Izuku racked his brain for an answer, for a question like this could not be so obvious. Even so, there was only one answer he could find outside of their years of experience, something that he would have in time. Rather, Aizawa touched a nerve, leaving it the only logical answer. "They have Quirks, Master."

"That's right," Aizawa nodded. "They can fight without their Quirks to hide their identities as Assassins, or else ensure no witnesses remain. You do not have such a luxury, so you need to learn how to identify when to avoid the public eye, as you should have today."

"I hope you don't expect me to apologize for trying to do my best, Master." Izuku's eyes hardened, his gaze unwavering. "Maybe I should have bowed out sooner, but I could not have lived with myself if I didn't try to prove myself. To show those who mocked me and those who supported me alike that I could stand among my peers even without powers of my own."

Izuku and Aizawa shared a staring contest for several seconds, the older waiting to see if the convictions of the younger would wither under pressure. They did not.

"Many have high hopes for you, Midoriya," Aizawa sighed. "Curb your search for validation before you fly too close to the sun. That said, I cannot deny how you managed to defy expectations. You have the physical skills, if nothing else yet. Do either of you have anything to report?"

"If it has not yet been decided, ribbit, class 1-A is ready to welcome Hitoshi Shinso into our number without too many complications," Tsuyu said. "From my placement in the stands for most of the matches, I witnessed no signs of any potential Templars attempting to recruit other students to their way of thinking, ribbit."

"In addition, I believe Shinso would be a good addition to our number," Izuku suggested. "He reminds me of myself from before the Brotherhood recruited me. He has the potential to be an excellent hero if nothing else, but I know how difficult it is to find informants in hero schools. Recruiting Shinso would give us one more perspective we would not have otherwise. I believe we would need to move quickly to, at the least, ensure the Templars do not reach for him. I fear what they could do with a Brainwashing Quirk."

"I will look into the matter," Aizawa promised. "However, he will not be joining your class. Instead, the staff will take the weekend to deliberate on which student of 1-B will transfer to 1-A, allowing Shinso to fill that vacated seat. That is our process."

"Oh." Izuku deflated. He'd been looking forward to having lessons with the purple-haired student.

"Now then, it is time we discuss how we will move forward. Internships will come quickly for you both, but not so quickly as to catch us by surprise. You will each receive several offers from Assassins in the hero industry, but other offers may be inevitable. You are not forced to intern with an Assassin, though it is preferable, and we will have the time to help you weed out any offers you receive from suspected Templars. The schedule is as follows: you will have the next week to recover and consider possibilities for your hero names. Any internship offers you have been given will be handed to you on Friday. This gives any who lose interest throughout the week to pull their offer and you have the weekend and some to consider which would be best for you afterward. You may discuss anything with your fellow Assassins here and they will gladly help in any way they can. Internships will last for one week starting the following Monday. Questions?"

"I suppose our training schedules will have to change depending on who we intern with and any other student we end up working with?" Izuku ventured.

"That is correct," Aizawa nodded. "You have both seen a sliver of the darkness our world can hold, but the crimes heroes handle are different than those you will see —or commit— as Assassins. You cannot fight the same way and the public will be watching, though not in the same way they watched the Sports Festival. In this aspect, Initiate Midoriya, you will need to vary your arsenal, to separate Midoriya the hero student and Midoriya the Assassin."

He turned his eyes on Tsuyu.

"And you, Initiate Asui, will need to better learn how to fight without your inherent powers. Mutations like the ones your family possess can give your identity away on a mission if you are careless. You will also need to differentiate who you will be as a hero and who you will be as an Assassin. To play up your differences in public and to hide them in the shadows otherwise. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good, then we're wasting time. Let's talk possibilities on the way to the armory." As they walked, Izuku tilted his head, hearing the sounds of battle, but he recognized the direction as that of one of the many training rooms, and he shook it off.

Several room away, Nascha laid on the ground, panting. She was dressed casually, her clothing soaked in sweat. Keeper looked down on her, one eyebrow quirked upward.

"Again," Nascha demanded in rough Japanese, climbing to her feet with shaky arms. She reached out, taking hold of a boken that had fallen from her hands when Keeper swept her. "Come again."

["You are hurt,"] Keeper said, repeating himself in Japanese with the same system they had been working on. ["You need to take a break."]

"Fuck that," Nascha spat, using language Keeper was sure Nekoi had taught her. "My brother prisoner. Cannot stop." She charged forward, Keeper sidestepping her attack with barely a whisper. His foot shot out, catching her by the ankle. Nascha hit the tatami mats with a wump.

["You would get yourself killed like this,"] Keeper told her, again repeating himself in Japanese. ["If you want to fight with Assassins, to become an Assassin, then you need to cut off your emotions. There is nothing you can do until you reach that point."]

Nascha curled in on herself, tears prickling the corners of her eyes as she pictured Simon in a cell somewhere, possibly being tortured or worse, and she was here, powerless to save him. Her body ached, her bruises sending flashes of pain with each movement and her clothing clung to and rubbed the welts she had underneath. Keeper knelt, offering a hand.

["Let's so see Medic Fai,"] he said. The young woman did not respond. "…Nascha?"

She surged upward, tackling the Assassin. Keeper was caught off guard, losing hold of his own boken as her shoulder slammed into his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him. He landed hard on his back, Nascha rolling him over as she took one of his arms in hers, pinning him down.

"Yield?" she asked, using her superior muscle mass to hold the man down. Keeper bit out a laugh.

[Maybe you've got more fire than I thought,"] he said only to roll them over, reversing the pin onto her. ["But I've still got more experience than you do."]

She scowled, tapping out. Keeper released her.

"Cannot go faster?" she questioned, trying to stay with her limited Japanese. "No other way?"

["There are a couple,"] Keeper admitted. ["We don't have access to one. Templar technology, that, and liable to break your mind if not done right. The other is… less risky but comes with its own downsides."]

"Give to me."

["You're sure?"]

"Yes."

"Alright," Keeper sighed, knowing she knew that word. He reached upward, touching his forehead. Rather than rubbing it, his fingers sunk into the skin there. His eyes crossed and, if Nascha was in the mood for humor, she would have found it funny. Rather, she felt herself turn green as the glorping sound reached her ears.

Keeper pulled his hand back, a silvery, wispy ball held in his fingers, almost like dry ice if the falling frost were pulled back into its base after falling.

["These are some of my memories from my time learning to be an Assassin,"] he told her. ["I know they are, even if I can't remember them now. I can give them to you, but you aren't allowed to tell anyone. Not even Nekoi, ok? No one knows I can do this."]

"Ok," Nascha nodded, "Anything for my brother."

Keeper stepped forward and pushed the silver ball of memories into her head. Nascha went cross-eyed as they played through her mind, implanting the knowledge but not the muscle memory. Not only that, but the lessons were given in Japanese and came with the understanding giving her a boost to her language learning. She blinked after a minute, raising her boken into a much more polished stance.

"Let's get started," Keeper smiled, raising his own practice sword. "Begin!"

Momo sat alone in her room, an engineering textbook open on her desk as the girl formed each part of a motorcycle's engine, trying to recognize how the makeup and size of each piece affected her energy and if she would be able to create them all at once, ideally together, concurrent, and in order. It was difficult, but she knew that pushing her limits outside of classes would be the only way she could stay ahead of her classmates. All Might's words resonated in her head, reminding her that her fellow students would not remain stagnant and that she could not either.

A soft knock came from her door, having to repeated a second time, stronger, before she noticed.

"Yes?" she asked. "The door is unlocked."

With the silence of regularly-oiled hinges, the door opened to reveal her father. He was dressed in a rarely-seen regalia consisting of a long suit trimmed in red, white, and gold. A red cross was embroidered upon the right breast over his heart and atop his head sat a dark, tricorn hat also trimmed in gold. Momo perked up, remembering when last she had seen him dressed this way, he had promised that he would explain it when he believed she would understand. She had been put out, thinking herself ready then, but he had been insistent and she had ultimately acquiesced to his wishes.

"Momo, my daughter," Kanri said, leaning on his ruby-capped cane. There was a wan smile across his lips as he took in the relative chaos that had become her bedroom desk, the polished wood and flooring covered in the various engine parts. "You have been busy."

"I must be prepared for everything," she responded. "I hope to push myself to the point where I may one day create a vehicle. If possible, it may save many lives throughout my career as a hero. If it saves even one, then the time will have been worth it."

"You are always thinking about others. I admire you, Momo, for your altruism and your optimism, and I hope you cling to that."

"Has something happened?" Momo asked.

"Well, yes and no." He gestured, a manservant bringing forward an outfit on a rack. It was similar to the one her father wore but more feminine, sized to fit her. "I recall I told you I would explain the meaning of these clothes, and I intend to fulfil that promise to you. Please, put these on and meet me in the foyer. There, you will learn everything."

"Ah, sure," the girl replied, taking in the quality of the outfit. She could tell from a glance that the materials were expensive, so the outfit itself —most likely a uniform of some sort— must hold far more value than simple money. The manservant bowed and closed the door, giving the heiress the privacy she needed to change.

A few minutes later found Momo now dressed in the outfit, its coattails swishing through the air with every step. The cloth flowed in a way Momo, with her vast vocabulary, found difficult to describe, causing her to conclude that its sheer quality must be the result of some Quirk. She approached the door to the foyer, head high and without nervousness despite how sure she felt she should have such. She knocked.

"Enter."

Momo stepped inside only to come short. The foyer looked nothing like she remembered, a table having risen out of the floor and the walls, usually decorated with expensive artwork, were bare without evidence that they had ever been covered. The long table was covered in a white tablecloth, also embroidered with a red cross, and an empty chalice sat before each place. Her father stood at the head of the table, her mother at his right hand. Many others were there in the room, each dressed in their own similar outfit, and most she recognized by face if not by name. Her Aunt and Uncle Shiozaki were there, alongside the moguls of various industries along the table to her left. To the right were several pro heroes, Momo recognizing the likes of Hawks, Death Arms, Mt. Lady, and others of various note. Momo was, by a decent margin, the youngest person in attendance.

Sensing that this was to be a closed meeting, the student shut the door and, at her father's direction, sat in the chair opposite him. When both had been seated, the rest of the group did as well.

"Momo, my daughter," Kanri began. "Your mother and I have raised you in a particular manner, in the same way we were raised, in the hopes that one day we could reveal to you the universal truths of the world. I believe you are ready to hear them, to learn of their significance, and to accept them into your very being like the rest of us who sit around this table. Are you ready?"

Momo sucked in a breath, steeling herself as he lips pressed into a thin line. "Yes, Father."

"Then I will tell you the story. Or, at least, the situation at present. For centuries, various groups have argued and warred in the name of bringing about world peace, but none have succeeded. Each and every one has died off in the wake of the next movement that disagreed with them, all but two. These two have known each other since time immemorial, biting and hacking at each other in their ultimate goal. It pains me to say that this fight continues even today.

"My daughter, we are but one small contingent of one of these groups. Before you are assembled many of the upper echelons of the Japanese Rite of the Templar Order. We have each dedicated our lives to the goal of unifying the world in peace and prosperity. Of ridding ignorance, violence, hatred, and dissent from the human race, to bring about an everlasting era of peace. To create a world where no one need fear the shadows, a world where petty differences do not tear the world apart at the seams. Such is already a lofty goal, is it not? Is this not something you can see yourself wishing for?"

"That…" Momo swallowed, suddenly finding her throat dry. "Such a world sounds like a utopia, Father. It sounds impossible."

"A city on a hill alone is difficult to maintain, much less to spread it over the whole world," he agreed. "Even so, we have the means, the resources, and the members to achieve it. Or, we would, if it wasn't for them."

"Father, you mentioned another group," Momo prompted, correctly following the turn of the conversation. "Are they…?"

"Yes," Kanri sighed. "Our brother, if you will, but only in so much brotherhood as there was to be seen between Cain and Able. The group that has stymied our attempts at world peace over the millennia, that has, through their meddling, destroyed whole cities, torn countries apart, and turned brother against brother in horrid war. They stalk the shadows of the alleys and the night, hiding themselves from law and morality in their own sick, hypocritical sense of justice and free will."

"Who…?" Momo gasped, trying to understand why anyone would oppose something like a worldwide peace. "Why would anyone fight against this. Who are they?"

"They," Okame began, "are the Brotherhood of Assassins." There was a hiss in her voice, the name alone sending a shiver down Momo's spine. Her eyes turned to take in every person around the table, and the unemotional frown on Hawks' face was the closest any of them got to neutrality. The more emotional were openly scowling, teeth barred and the fire of painful memories smoldering in their eyes. Okame herself reached up, her fingers running down the length of white hair that contrasted so much from the rest of her dark locks. "They care not for order or peace. They care not about guilt or innocence. They care only to stain their blades with the blood of those in our cause, claiming that the unwashed, uneducated masses alone can lead the world into prosperity."

"Mother, have they…?" Momo could not finish her question, the idea alone of a shadow reaching out and ending the life of her mother or father dropping a boulder in her gut.

"They have," Okame answered. "We cannot say the Templars are without their… unsavory methods, but shortly after you were born, an Assassin broke into our home. He slew your grandparents and dozens of workers in his quest for us. I found him in your nursery, staring down at you, bloodstained blade in hand dripping red over the carpet. He came for me when I screamed and you can see here what the terror and stress of the night did to me. Your father stabbed him in the leg three times, but he still managed to escape. The police never caught him."

Momo felt herself shaking, a long-thought-dreamed memory of cold, ice-blue eyes flashing through her mind. Even that could be her imagination, but something told her that it was real. She set her hands on the table, her fingers closing in to keep them from shaking. Momo looked up, slowly, to see the look in her father's eyes.

"And, these Assassins," she muttered. "They're here? They're still killing? How?"

"Our Orders have been around for a long time," Death Arms grunted. "It shouldn't be a surprise that both have people everywhere. Besides that, they're good at what they do. Murders can't be investigated if the body never turns up, and Quirks only make hiding them or getting rid of the evidence easier. So kid, are you in or out?"

Momo turned away from him, making eye contact with her relatives.

"There's more to this story," she said. It wasn't a question.

"Far too much," Okame admitted.

"I want to hear it."

Her family exchanged glances, as if silently arguing about who would start. They blinked and frowned in silence for half a minute.

"Our fight used to involve the Artifacts," a voice said, Momo turning her attention to Mt. Lady. The blonde was stone-faced, a far cry from her usual persona. "Relics from a time before humanity. Our records call them the Pieces of Eden, but no one really knows where they came from, only that those with the highest concentrations of DNA from the Precursors could use them. They were few and far between even back then. It seems like no one can use them anymore." She looked up. "Not since the Dawn of Quirks."

"That damn era," one of the moguls growled, a man with the head of a jackal. Momo recognized him as the CEO of a company that made body care products for people with Mutation-Style Quirks. "We had the Assassins on their last legs worldwide. We were ready to bring the world to heel for the sake of humanity. And then one child in China of all places started to glow and the whole planet went upside down. The Assassins grew in numbers during the anarchy, the Pieces stopped working, and we're back to square one." His clawed nails bit into the table, carving gashes through the tablecloth and into the wood as he snarled. "We were so close."

"Calm yourself, Doctor Hyde," Kanri ordered, giving the man a warning look before turning back to his daughter. "Momo, I will tell you more about the Precursors in our own time, but they are gone and only their artifacts have any baring on today, and only so little anymore. The important question is, will you assist our cause? Our family? The Assassins will target you no matter what, but we can help protect you. Will you join the Templar Order, Momo Yaoyorozu?"

Kanri lifted his right hand to show the thick ring that graced his finger. Its base was pure silver, its face decorated with the same red cross that adorned the clothing of every person in this room. The man brought his other hand up and placed two fingers on it, using his Quirk: Forgery to create and exact replica of the ring.

He set this new ring on the table, Okame using her Quirk: Bloom to manipulate the wood to push the ring until it sat before their eldest child. Momo stared at it, worrying at her lip. Her eyes rose slowly, finding this group —this council— watching her. Shaky hands reached forward, taking the ring into her hold. She studied it, but it was only her brother's smiling face that she saw.

Making a choice, she slipped the ring onto her finger.

"That's my girl," Kanri grinned grabbing the chalice that sat at his place. One of the business moguls waved his hand, red wine arcing from somewhere to fill every cup. The other Templars took theirs in hand, Kanri raising his above. "By the power vested in me as Master Templar of Japan, I hereby name Momo Yaoyorozu a member of the Japanese Rite of Templars and promote her to the rank of Advisor. To Momo Yaoyorozu!"

"Hear hear!"

The wine burned on its way down her throat, and Momo prayed she made the right choice.

End of Chapter 19

And so the various factions move forward after the Sports Festival toward collision. Which 1-B student will be transfered? What weapons and skills will Izuku add and how hard will it be for him separate eho he wants to be from who the Brotherhood needs him to be? Why can no one use the Pieces of Eden and what will the Templars ask of Momo now that she knows of their existence? And, above all:

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-SwordOfTheGods