There was a long period of silence as Illya sorted through the heap of clothes. The once large pile was now just a few outfits, one of which was her usual outfit of a long-sleeve red shirt and black skirt. It wasn't the most complex but it was certainly effective for attracting a man's gaze. One of the outfits really caught Illya's eyes.
The main material of the dress was satin. Black strips made up most of its creation, with stripes of red breaking up the monotony. A waterfall hem continued the striped design with slits cut into the material to give the outfit a water-like flow. Translucent silk made up the upper portion of the dress. This silk trailed from the bust to the neck and down to each fingertip. It was a one-piece dress and it looked expensive and difficult as sin to get into. To tie the outfit together, gleaming white pearls in a cross design sat just at the base of the neck.
"This," Illya gawked, eyes sparkling as she took the article in. "I can guarantee that if you wear this, Shirou won't be able to take his eyes off you. I know I won't," Illya mumbled the last part, skipping back to Rin and thrusting the dress onto her lap. "And wear your good black stockings with the garter. This dress is going to show a lot of leg which is good real-estate we can use!" Illya suggested, smiling like the fiend she was. Rin hadn't recovered fully from the last embarrassing moment and Illya's words didn't help any.
Illya began putting the clothes she had taken out back in the wardrobe, her smile continually growing along her face. Dinner was going to be very eventful. Even though Illya was doing all this solely for her amusement, she actually hoped that Shirou would make a decision about the two girls once and for all.
At the same time, she felt disappointed and slightly jealous. Illya loved Shirou as a brother, but could she love him more than that?
What was she thinking, she was his sister! Even if they weren't technically related, they couldn't have a relationship like that - could they? She had run into him walking out of the bathroom an unhealthy number of times recently, she would be lying to herself if she tried to pass those off as accidents.
Rin examined the dress Illya had picked out for her, face as bright as the devil child's eyes. The homunculus, with her back towards the Tohsaka, bit her lip in frustration. Illya couldn't be blamed, it wasn't her fault that the boys in her age range weren't as built or as toned as Shirou.
Oh no.
Illya froze like a statue, breath hanging in her throat. She had just admitted to herself that she had been looking at her brother in that sort of way. Groaning, Illya tried to purge the thoughts streaming around her mind.
… … …
… … …
The stove had arrived within the hour as Kiritsugu had predicted. While the old man settled up the replacement with the moving men, Shirou stopped by the bathroom to clean himself up. He peered into the mirror, prodding at his face and looking into his own features.
Since he had started projecting Avalon and other weapons years ago, minute changes had been spreading through his body. The most notable were alterations in his physique. Muscle was much easier to gain and definitely harder to lose. At first, he had assumed it to be all the training Kiritsugu was putting him through, but he was definitely older in appearance and more developed than any sixteen-year-old ought to be. A defined jawline and abdominal section with toned muscles that ran from wrist to ankle. His skin held a healthy light tan. In the last year, he had even grown taller than his father to a decent five foot ten and his body seemed far from stopping.
Shirou complained about his physique nearly every day, at least in his mind. Rin, Illya, Sakura, Mitsuzuri, Makidera, Himuro, Saegusa and so many of the other girls at school eyed him like a piece of meat. Unfortunately, he had nobody to blame but himself. He had made the unfortunate decision to take off his shirt to try cooling off while he was fixing a broken air ventilation unit at the school. After the first few girls made comments and whistles, the shirt replaced itself as quickly as it could be found and the ventilation system was repaired with just as much speed.
The very next day, girls from classes above and below him came by with things for him to fix. Watches, alarm clocks, hair dryers and even binder rings that wouldn't close flush against one another. He was being called all over the school for such arbitrary things that Issei Ryoudou, a recent friend like Shinji, had to step in and act as Shirou's screening system. He would handle repair requests and only allow legitimate claims through to Shirou in an attempt at reducing strain on the boy. The only person this screening didn't apply to was Rin. Issei didn't want to confront her and she seemed to only bring in genuine cases. She typically brought items her mother had damaged or broken like heaters, clocks and other electrical equipment that was too complex for the magus to handle herself.
This wasn't all Rin had done to interfere in his life. She frequently sought him out to have lunch on the roof, claiming to have important business to discuss. She always conned him out of a better lunch by offering to trade half of hers for half of his while quoting a passage from a Magical Fundamentals book.
"Equivalent exchange must be held in the highest regard. An eye for an eye, gold for gold, Od for magecraft." She always donned a wise expression and spoke with such regality as if it were gospel. Shirou just abided by her strange demands so she wouldn't get upset with him. Shirou wanted to point out that since his lunches were much better than hers, it wasn't really equal - but he didn't have the nerve to call out the fact.
The frequent visits and lunches had gotten the two sucked into an unfortunate pairing as the "Queen and Peasant" of Homurahara. It was embarrassing to say the least. When that name had first spread around the academy, Shirou had to face a fuming Sakura back home. Apparently, word travelled fast in Fuyuki. Under threat of being banned from his own kitchen for life, Shirou had to swear that he was just friends with Rin.
Shirou leaned into the mirror further, looking into his eyes before reaching up and pulling apart his hair to see the roots. Just as he thought, gray. This had been another change that happened after he began projection magecraft. It wasn't as noticeable as his physical changes but it was certainly concerning. Was he losing his hair or was it simply changing colour had been the almighty question. If it was the former, it might have just been natural. He had heard tales of young men losing all their hair in their early twenties.
If his hair was changing colour, he had to consider the possibility that his magecraft or something else he was doing was the source. Rin had been the first to notice his changing hair, but she hadn't noticed his eyes. They appeared their familiar golden brown but there were little scratches of gray that altered the pigment just a touch. Shirou had been able to see it only because he knew what to look for.
At least he felt good. So long as he was feeling alright he didn't care about any appearance changes. Peeking out the door of the bathroom, Shirou verified that his left and right were clear before moving into the hall. He paused to flip the sign hanging off the bathroom door to "open" and then retreated to his room.
Closing the door quietly behind him, he threw down the towel and pulled out fresh clothes to dress with. If everyonewas coming for dinner it would be a show of good manners to dress himself up a tad. Rather than slipping on a basic pair of trousers and a two-tone shirt, Shirou reached in his clothes drawer to pull out a pair of neatly folded black pants, a white t-shirt and a green dress shirt. Slipping on fresh clothes, he fixed his collar through touch alone while he scanned his room briefly.
His eyes locked onto a familiar scabbard in the corner. Even tucked away and barely visible behind his wardrobe, the radiant sight of Avalon couldn't be mistaken. Shirou gently moved to and retrieved the artifact, flipping it over in his hands. He had been testing the longevity of his projections for some time now. After discovering the appropriate words for his tracing magecraft he had made colossal leaps in progress.
Avalon was an artifact of the Fae, meaning there was only - and would only - be one in existence. Because of this exclusivity, Gaia tore projections of it down with a vengeance. This copy had lasted three entire days and was just beginning to show signs of degradation. A noticeable chip had been taken off the top and it seemed duller than usual. With a sigh, Shirou dematerialized the scabbard and felt a load lift from his body. It took a surprising amount of mana to pay for the upkeep of the artifact. With each projection, the cost to preserve its state was decreased. He was nearing the point where maintaining the his natural mana regeneration was covering the upkeep cost of the scabbard.
Trailing onto his other experiments, Shirou lifted a copy of Taiga's old shinai. The entire surface of the weapon radiated a malice he had never seen before. It was almost ironic to see a weapon designed to never draw blood thirst for it. Once Shirou had perfected his method of tracing, Shirou began testing the limits of their duration. This had been his first experiment using a common item. Even four years later it showed no signs of degradation. It was indiscernible from the real shinai. Returning the weapon to its hidden place, Shirou checked the clock near his futon.
It was quarter-to-five which meant he had a little over an hour to prepare food for the guests. Cracking his knuckles and stretching, he decided to face the music.
… … …
Shirou had been in the middle of prep work for dinner when the doorbell first rang. Curious as to who it might be, but also aware of how busy he would be if interruptions continued, Shirou raced to the front door.
He stopped just short and casually slid it open. With closed eyes, he offered a large smile in greeting to whoe-
His body tensed and every muscle snapped alert as a body slammed into him at full force. Instinctively, one foot slid back to keep himself from falling over. There were arms wrapped around his neck and a head was buried in his shoulder.
Opening his eyes, violet hair took up the majority of his vision. "Sakura?" he asked, awkwardly lifting a hand to sit on the top of her head. Based off how warm his cheeks were, he probably looked like an embarrassment. "Did you trip again?"
The girl gently pulled herself away from him, staring deep into his eyes. The blush on her face coupled with the light shaking through her arms told Shirou she was practically forcing herself to do this. "I've missed you, Senpai."
Shirou couldn't speak. Who greeted someone like this? Was Sakura sick? Why did every woman in his life have to be some form of crazy? Not only had the girl decided to change up her greeting, she also changed her outfit. A white flowing sundress with a simple black belt cinched tight around her waist. It was simple but effective in the sense that it conveyed her innocence and purity. If only that were true, Shirou knew what she was going through back home.
Trying his best to smile and break the awkwardness, he gently took her arms and pulled them off his neck. "Well, I've certainly missed you." In an instant, the bright violet eyes of his younger friend seemed to explode. The shade on her face darkened, her body tightened and she looked as if she was about to jump straight through the roof. "... Because I've been in the kitchen since I got home. I could really use an extra pair of hands to get everything ready."
He offered a comforting smile while she deflated near-instantly. "Idiot-Senpai," she murmured under her breath.
… … …
With Sakura in the kitchen, things were much more manageable. Shirou usually made enough food for seven. In their rather small kitchen, that was full capacity. Nine could be done, but it would take some planning. While Sakura finished prepping, Shirou ran a culinary-triage on the foodstuff. He sorted items by what would need to be cooked, what wouldn't and then divided those groups between the two of them. Having a look at all the supplies, Kiritsugu had gone all out in both quality and quantity.
The new oven was the most beautiful thing Shirou had ever seen. It stood out from the dated, well-used appliances in the kitchen but that hardly mattered. Stainless steel and glass with an induction cooktop and two separated cooking compartments. He couldn't waste very much time testing every feature, but he was still excited to cook with his shiny new oven.
Even though the kitchen wasn't large, Sakura and Shirou had no problems moving around each other to get things done. They seemed to glide around the kitchen seamlessly without even communicating what it was they were doing. All of their accumulated experience in the kitchen together allowed such a feat.
Before Shirou even realized, five-thirty rolled around and guests began arriving. This time, Shirou really was too busy to answer the door so Taiga handled it all. Kiritsugu seemed thankful; for a while now, the girl had been leaning against him while they watched the news.
Both Shirou and Kiritsugu knew the young teacher had a crush on the old man. Kiritsugu had realized it when Taiga was much younger but Shirou had learned it from the old man's journal. His thoughts revealed that he was trying his best to avoid the matter entirely through ignorance. He didn't want to break her heart by turning her down but he didn't want to encourage her by responding either.
For a man who killed ruthlessly, he had a good heart.
Shirou lost his concentration, grazing along Sakura who made a noise as she prepared the rice cooker. "Sorry," he chuckled, returning to the task at hand.
… … …
"Whose idea was it to walk to your house in a paper-thin dress?" Rin clutched onto her arms, rubbing gently to try and generate some warmth. It was frigid tonight. Not only was it colder than usual, a wind had sprouted up out of nowhere to make it all that much worse.
"Neither of us can drive, it's a short walk, we wanted to arrive before your mother and walking is good for you," Illya shot back all at once, seemingly fine in the inhospitable climate. "It's not even cold, just deal with it."
"You're not wearing a paper thin dress with only four inches of skirting in the front!" Rin snapped back, finding warmth from the anger that stirred within.
"Temporary pain for permanent gain," Illya recited. Up ahead, Rin could see the stone walls surrounding the Emiya estate and a sudden spring of uneasiness stirred within her. Not knowing how Shirou would respond was affecting her more than she would care to admit. Sucking in a breath of icy air, Rin forced the uneasiness down and replaced it with artificial confidence.
"Sakura doesn't have a chance." The magus whispered to herself, smirking at the thought of beating her si- rival. Rin knew Shirou wasn't a very dominant man. If he was, he didn't show it at all. Sakura's submissive appeal would be lost on him - hopefully.
Shirou needed someone strong to guide him and Rin could be that someone. Without a guide, he'd get lost and probably do something stupid he would regret. Assuring victory in her own mind, Rin walked with a little more purpose.
The two girls eventually reached the front door of the house and Ilya let herself in. "We've arrived!" Illya announced, slipping out of both shoes in one fluid skipping motion. The albino seemed to forget about Rin as she strode confidently through the hall with a little sashay of the hips.
For whatever reason, she had decided to dress up alongside Rin. She argued that it would be improper to show up without dressing up just a tad. Illya had borrowed Rin's home phone and within an hour, a man in a professional looking suit delivered an outfit to the house. How Illya had connections to a tailor and how he could have outfits made to order within an hour had Rin puzzled.
The outfit Illya had was something ripped straight from a girly cartoon. The entire outfit actually hurt to look at on account of how bright it was. Starting from the top, two ivory feathers with pink tips adorned her hair. They were more accents than actual articles for styling. Around her neck was a fluffy white collar that accented her smooth, pale skin. From the base of the neck down was a one-piece vest-skirt. Lines running up and down where strips of material were sewn together actually broke the monotony of the piece and seemed to add to it. Her shoulders were bare, but she wore pink sleeves on each arm which lead just beyond her elbow before terminating in leaf-like points. Forearm length gloves slipped overtop although these were in white. From the back of each side of her hips were long draping sections, descending to about ankle level. No matter what, they always seemed to magically stay just inches off the ground. Two sections came towards the front as well but they were much shorter in length. It almost made her look like a blooming flower.
There were three layers to her skirting. The outermost was the one which held the extended pieces. Just beneath that was a flowing chiffon section of a lighter pink. The final bottom layer of her skirt was a dark red colour and was much stiffer as it refused to flow gracefully like the other two layers. The ends of this skirt were cut. Since the skirt ended just below her hips, it was likely done this way as a sort of modesty protection while simultaneously accenting the outfit. Rather than continue with the main theme of bright pink, she wore thigh-high boots in the same deep red as her skirt.
Rin had almost been jealous. She had bought her own dress after being conned into it by a saleswoman at the mall. She wasn't disappointed so far but it was nowhere near as cute as Illya's obviously custom-made ensemble.
There was light laughter from the dining room along with ambient kitchen noises. Clattering of cutlery and pots, utensils being set down and even the sizzle of a hot pan.
Halfway down the hall, Rin's nose was bombarded by a wave of scents that made her mouth water. Shirou had really gone out of his way this time. But how was he cooking without an oven?
Illya must have entered the dining room because a wave of gasps and voices suddenly came all at once. Rin bit the edge of her lip with a canine. She didn't need everyone to compliment her, she only needed one person to truly appreciate the effort she had taken. Turning the corner in the hall, Rin could see the open door to the dining room.
"Where did you find an outfit like that, sweetheart?" came the voice of Kiritsugu. He seemed happy in knowing that his daughter was enjoying herself.
"I've had it for a while but I've never had an event to wear it to." Rin could see Illya in mid-spin from this angle. After a full rotation, she stopped and made a clichéd pose with a peace sign on her forehead and one leg raised up to her thigh.
As Illya finished her performance, Rin stepped into the doorway and the room fell quiet. Rin made a quick count, surprised to only see two other people in the room beside Illya and herself. Kiritsugu and Taiga, the two others, seemed pleasantly surprised at least.
"Why did everyone go quiet, what happe-" came a voice from the right. Shirou had stepped into the dining area while wiping his hands with a towel. His eyes roamed over Rin and he had to do a double take to ensure what he had seen was reality. The towel in his hands slid out of his grip to hit the floor.
"Got him," came a victorious thought. Illya's plan had worked, Rin had shocked Shirou into falling for her. Now would be her chance to seal his destiny. All she had to do was wait for him to say something, then she could express how her dress had been planned specifically for him. It would guilt him into accepting whatever conditions she set after. What made this situation better was that Sakura was nowhere to be found, Rin was clean and clear!
"R-Rin?" he managed to stammer out. Impolitely, he gave her another look up and down before locking onto her eyes. His cheeks turned a bright red, likely the same shade staining her own face. "You look…" He couldn't find the words, he was smitten! Everything was going perfect.
Then Sakura stormed out of the kitchen.
… … …
Shirou legitimately couldn't pull his eyes from Rin. It was like someone had changed the channel and the only thing in his mind was static. Had she enchanted that dress in some way to cause this? Rin had always been a good-looking girl but wearing a dress like this could actually kill normal men. She was like another person entirely with her hair let down. He could honestly say that he preferred it this way. He had wanted to compliment her, but each time his brain tried to figure out what he needed to say, his mouth refused to co-operate and the static washed away the thought.
Then Sakura moved in front of him and rational thought returned. "Rin, Senpai needs to focus on preparing dinner, you can't distract him." The girl shook her head defiantly, acting as a barrier to shield Shirou's eyes.
This wouldn't end well. Looking to his side, Shirou tried to search for help. Taiga seemed worried, rightly so. Illya was watching the two girls with blatant amusement and Kiritsugu offered his son a warm smile that spoke volumes. His face expressed good luck while simultaneously saying: "You're screwed".
He couldn't see Rin, but he imagined she had assumed a position of defiance with her hands on her hips. "If Shirou can't keep his eyes off me it just means that he's interested." Kiritsugu snorted, taking a sip of his coffee. He turned and whispered something to Illya, who nodded enthusiastically. The old man had to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing. Illya had planned all of this, hadn't she?
Sakura's body stiffened and her arms shot down at her sides. "Senpai can't help himself if distractions are forced into his face!"
"I only walked in, I'm not forcing him to do anything," Rin argued. She crossed her arms and lifted her chin to look down condescendingly at her rival. Shirou in the meanwhile slinked off silently back to the kitchen. At least they wouldn't be able to fight and blow up the house with Taiga here.
Shirou did his best to drown the two women out while he focused on picking up all the slack Sakura being away had made. There was definitely shouting and based off Illya's and Taiga's expressions, the two were starting to get physical. Shirou did his best to stay out of it. Obviously, his involvement caused more harm than good. Looking up for a brief moment, he saw Sakura and Rin pushing one another with their hands locked. Since Rin was stronger, she was easily holding the younger girl back. Just as Shirou was about to speak up, the doorbell rang and everyone paused.
"Saved by the bell," Kiritsugu commented dryly. "Sakura, if you wouldn't mind could you please go see who that is?" The man continued smiling warmly as he tried to hold back his laughter at the show. He briefly leaned over to Illya and whispered something. It must have been a joke because she burst out giggling.
Begrudgingly, Sakura released Rin and stormed past her into the hall. Without resistance, Rin sat down beside Shirou's usual spot. Illya quickly reached over the table and nudged Rin in the side. Believing that her brother wasn't watching, she motioned for Rin to move closer to Shirou's spot.
Shirou had always known Illya was a demon as soon as he'd seen those bright red eyes. She was going to be the death of him, and it would be due to two warring magi fighting over a spot as his girlfriend.
Sakura returned a few seconds later and her brother casually followed. He was wearing a black shirt covered by a white blazer with blue jeans. Scanning the room, he offered a casual wave to those present. He seemed to be handling Rin's appearance much better than Shirou, looking her over a few "Haven't seen you so dressed up, Tohsaka. It's a good look." A cocky smile was splayed across his face while he took a seat diagonally across from Rin, next to Taiga. Like a predator searching for prey, he panned the table slowly until he stopped at Illya. "I never knew your sister was some sort of a magical girl, Shirou." The blue-haired boy leaned back from the table, looking said girl over at least three times. "It's a shame she's not a little older."
Illya blinked, Kiritsugu scowled. Nobody had liked that comment. "I'm nineteen," Illya levelled, falling directly into Shinji's trap. Immediately, the Matou leaned forward into the table and offered a disgustingly hungry look.
"Really now? I haven't seen you at the Academy."
"That's because I'm two years higher than you and I've done my best to avoid you after hearing all sorts of rumours." Illya settled back in her seat, crossing her arms ominously as the air of royalty began to ooze from her entire being.
As far as Shirou knew, Illya had two antithetical personalities. One was her usual self: the optimistic, caring girl that idealized happiness to the extreme. The other was a true royal-blooded princess. Confident, condescending and cold above all else. She typically used the latter whenever she was dealt with people she didn't like, or when someone told her to be mature.
Quietly, Shirou continued listening to his guests while trying to finish up the last of his dishes. After this one, he could take a break while everything cooked.
"Rumours? Which ones? That I'm the good looking guy all the girls fall for?" He placed one hand on his chest, closing his eyes to smile confidently.
Illya smiled herself. Shirou felt a pit growing in his stomach. "The one that you're a giant pervert who peeks on girls changing and that you're an overly confident jerk who can't handle rejection." Rin snorted, covering her mouth to hide her amusement.
Shinji flinched like he had been stabbed. His face turned a daring shade of red and his smile twisted into a heartless scowl. "What did you say you litt-" He stopped abruptly as a hand swatted the side of his head. Shirou had practically teleported from the kitchen behind Shinji to stop him before he could say something he would regret.
Kiritsugu himself had actually made a move to stand. Father and son both looked ready to kill. "Shinji, even though you are a guest in my home you do not have the right to insult my sister. Continuing is going to get you more than just removed." Shirou's voice wasn't angry or full of emotion, it was colder than ice. It seemed to chill the temperature in the room a few degrees. Shirou and Kiritsugu shared a look before the latter settled back down in his seat.
With his eyes alone, the old man marvelled that such a boy could be Shirou's friend. "Didn't you hear what she said about me?" Shinji asked, rubbing the side of his head while he looked from his attacker around the room for sympathy. He wasn't getting any, likely because everyone present understood the rumours to be true - mostly. The blue-haired boy made a noise and grimaced. "I see how it is, I was invited just to be the butt of all your jokes."
He stood abruptly and turned to face Shirou while moving into the other boy's space in the same motion. With one finger, he prodded the taller man in the chest. "From here on out, consider us enemies, Emiya." The threat was rather empty. It was common knowledge that Shirou could wipe the floor with Shinji, literally.
The blue haired boy moved to the doorway, looking back to find Sakura. The girl in question had been in the corner looking at the ground, trying her best to remain unseen. "We're going home," he declared, waiting for her to follow him.
Sakura looked up at her brother, then glanced toward Illya who shook her head slightly. Sakura followed her lead. "I'm staying here with Senpai," she defied, holding her own hands at chest level.
Shinji narrowed his eyes and seemed to bore holes into the girl with the gaze alone. He opened his mouth to say something, then glanced back to Shirou who was still scowling with the glare of death. "Tsk, whatever."
There was a long period of silence until Taiga suddenly cleared her throat. "I don't think we should let Shinji's actions ruin the evening, let's just try to have a good time with each other." The teacher paused, then gave Rin a look. "Isn't your mother supposed to be coming?"
Rin nodded. "I guess she's running a bit late, she'll probably be here soon."
Shirou's rigid stance deflated into a more casual position. As the table slowly resumed conversing, he moved to stand in front of Sakura who seemed mentally absent. "Are you alright?" The girl nodded, but her eyes betrayed her true emotions. "Hey - don't worry about him. If he tries anything with you, give me a call and I'll be there, alright?" Shirou offered a comforting smile, taking the initiative to give her a short hug.
He felt the girl twitch at the contact, but she seemed to relax within a few seconds. As he broke the embrace, the familiar voice of his sister came from behind. "I think you're losing now, Rin."
What made Illya's teasing worse was that he couldn't even tease her back. The old man had told him to protect her and beyond that, he didn't want to hurt his sister. As he turned back to take up his rightful place in the kitchen, he shot Illya the same look he had given Shinji. She had been leaning over the table to speak with Rin but after seeing the look from her brother she instinctively snapped back to her own seat and tried to sit as properly as possible. "Big brother is scary when he wants to be." She pouted, setting her hands on her lap with tears in her eyes.
… … …
Aoi arrived a few minutes after that. From what Shirou could gather in the midst of his kitchen endeavours, she was a very solemn, softly-spoken woman with the aura fitting of a mother. When she had first arrived, she appeared disheartened upon seeing both Rin and Sakura. Even though she would have to come face to face with her displaced daughter, Shirou felt this would be good in the long run. If Sakura were to return to the Tohsaka family... Shirou stopped his thoughts for a moment. If Sakura ever returned? That wasn't right. When she rejoined the family. Shirou had every intention of helping his father slay that vile worm to free the girl from her bindings. Kiritsugu had to be working on a plan to kill the old Matou. If a way was possible, he would find it and together the two would play it out. Shirou had been meaning to ask the Magus Killer about the situation but he had just been too busy with everything. School, clubs, training, his job, cooking and dealing with two girls that were equal parts crazy and attractive.
Aoi had barely sat down before she joined in the conversation with wise, brief words. The older woman seemed to fit in quite well at the table and her expression turned to one of enjoyment rather quickly. She and Kiritsugu spoke independently and the two seemed to take an interest in one another. Perhaps it was because they were near the same age or that they were both single parents. Now that Shirou thought about it, he hadn't seen the old man enjoy himself this much in a long time. Taiga didn't like the situation one bit if the frustration plastered across her face was any indication. Since she had started speaking to Kiritsugu, the teacher had given the older woman a harsh glare. Either Aoi didn't notice or she chose to ignore it entirely.
Shirou and Sakura eventually started moving dishes out to the table. Even carrying as much as they could, they had to make multiple trips. It seemed like the flow of food would never stop. Once everything was laid out, the entire dining table was packed with items of every type. There was barely enough room for everyone's plates.
"I've never seen so much food in my life!" Taiga commented, first to begin filling her plate as usual.
"It's almost overwhelming," Rin added on, taking her own food with more civility.
"Senpai put in a lot of work," Sakura added, settling herself down in the spot Shinji had occupied earlier, across from Shirou.
"I don't quite know where to start," Aoi laughed, looking towards Kiritsugu for guidance.
"Somewhere and then you keep going!" Illya popped up behind the woman's shoulder, smiling brightly as she stretched to grab specific foods. She was the pickiest of all the eaters present. She preferred sweet food and avoided vegetables like the plague. Secretly, Shirou had been slipping minced vegetables into her sweets to try to balance out her diet.
Shirou settled into place beside Rin with a relaxed sigh. He could only smile as everyone complimented the food and filled their plates. He preferred being the last one, that way everyone else could get as much as they wanted. Shirou was content with picking up whatever was left. If he didn't like each dish he made, he wouldn't have cooked it in the first place.
Not a single person spoke throughout all of dinner. That sounded uncomfortable, but everyone was too focused on savouring the delicious flavours of the food. Usually, his dinner guests made brief comments or light conversation but none of that was happening tonight.
Shirou had to guess that it was the scale and quality of dinner. His meals were typically simple with hidden flavours and nuances that brought the taste buds to life. This extravagant spread used dishes which were already wonderful on their own, even prepared by a novice chef. Combining quality ingredients with a quality chef made each meal a spectacle.
Only when his guests were full and their plates empty did conversation resume. Unfortunately, it gravitated towards they dinner they just enjoyed which meant Shirou would find no end to the embarrassment tonight.
"I see why you want to stay over so often, Rin." Aoi giggled, covering her mouth as her daughter's face changed to match the shade of her dress.
"Once a week is not that often," Rin pouted. She hunched over on herself and crossed her arms to try and hide her embarrassment.
Her mother hummed questioningly. "You ask to stay over ever-" She was silenced as her daughter scrambled to cover her mouth. Aoi didn't move to avoid the act and her mouth was muffled before the full message could get out. Rin looked flustered in a way Shirou had never seen before. He actually began to understand why Illya liked embarrassing others so much.
Kiritsugu chuckled, lifting his coffee cup from its saucer. He glanced towards his own son with a glint in his eyes and Shirou could tell whatever was on his mind would be truly evil. "Shirou always looks forward to the days you girls can stay over." The old man set down his cup and a despicable smile spread across his face. "Unfortunately with my bad memory, I can't remember which girl he got excited over."
Illya chimed in as well and the pit that had begun in Shirou's stomach long ago rose to his throat. "I've heard him whisper one of your names in his sleep too but I couldn't really figure out which one either." Everyone here was working against him, was there a giant target painted on his back he wasn't aware of? Both of these statements were lies, but calling them out wouldn't work. Kiritsugu and Illya would act as the alibi for one another. If he tried to deny either statement, his guilt would be certified, or it would hurt their feelings somehow. Girls were weird like that.
Like a scene out of a movie, Rin and Sakura turned to look at each other with venomous glares before focusing on Shirou. Simultaneously, they asked which one of them he had been thinking of and Shirou could only try to make himself invisible while he finished the last few pieces on his plate.
Taiga placed her index finger against her chin and looked up wistfully. "I think I remember Shirou saying he fell for the girl who's been his close friend since he was young."
"That's me!" the two girls shouted simultaneously before sharing a glance. "You?" they spoke over one another again. This was going to be a long night.
… … …
… … …
Late in the evening, Aoi and Taiga departed after saying their goodbyes. Following the argument over who Shirou liked more, Rin and Sakura had both elected to sleep over. They had tried to watch his face after claiming they would stay the night to discern which of the two he reacted stronger to. Unfortunately for them, he had done his best to maintain a perfect poker face through it all.
Frustrated, the two constantly glanced at one another over the table as the witching hour drew near. They were locked in a war now and only one would come out victorious. Kiritsugu and Illya had beaming smiles on their face as they watched Shirou sink further and further into himself trying to avoid the entire conversation. He felt like a trophy, was that all he was? Something to claim victory over?
Picking Rin or Sakura was like choosing to lose an arm or a leg. He didn't want to admit to one because as a consequence he would lose the other. The best course of action was to just let them fight over one another, at least then he could keep ahold of them both as friends.
If he looked at things logistically, Sakura needed him more than Rin, although Rin was ultimately a better cho- What was he thinking? He wasn't doing this, he was just going to be their friend, nothing more. He wouldn't hurt either of them more than life already had.
… … …
The night was absolute hell for Shirou. Thankfully everyone turned in without having to be separated by force. Around midnight when Shirou stumbled into his room, he was prepared to pass out as soon as he hit the futon.
Shirou threw off his clothes and slipped on a pair of sweatpants. With an exhausted sigh, he settled his lower half under the quilt and stared at the ceiling. Slowly closing his eyes, he stretched out and rested his palms on the cool floor.
"Trace on."
As he spoke, a wireframe snapped into his mind. Just as quickly, the wireframe filled in with material to make a small scale copy of the real Emiya home. Using calculations of load, pressure differences and weight distribution, Shirou could see everyone's location in the house. Illya and Kiritsugu were just across the hall in bed, Rin was further down in her own room and Sakura was on the opposite side of the house for safety reasons and because the only other western-style room was on that side. The two girls were still moving around, likely plotting the demise of the other.
Shirou counted every piece of wood that formed the house again, verifying the number hadn't changed. At this point, the action was purely routine. His ability was so accurate he didn't need to test it in this manner. Practice made perfect as they say.
Shirou closed his eyes and tried to slip off into his familiar nightmare. At this point, he had grown so used to revisiting that hell, he hardly lost any sleep at all. It was the state between sleep and being awake that he was relaxed the most. Just as he was about to succumb to deep sleep, a presence near him sent every fibre of his body into red-alert.
Shirou didn't bother to ask how someone had gotten through Kiritsugu's barrier, why or how they managed to invade his room but none of that mattered. Snapping upright, he raised his fists to try and fight off the intruder.
He hadn't expected a high-pitched squeak followed by a thump against the ground. Tracking the source of the sound, Shirou spotted the fallen form of his demonic sister. Relaxing his body and letting out a breath, Shirou levelled a stern glare. "What are you doing in my room?" he asked, watching her stand and rub her behind. After all the trouble she had caused him tonight, she was lucky he hadn't picked her up and thrown her out.
"There were weird noises outside." Even in the darkness, Shirou could see her pout in an attempt at convincing him through cuteness. "I got scared and thought I could come sleep with you."
Shirou blinked wearily. "Why don't you go ask the old man if you're so scared?"
Illya shuffled awkwardly in place. She was only wearing a thin white nightgown that barely reached mid-thigh. If she wasn't older than him, this situation might have been misunderstood as a crime. "Daddy doesn't like when I ask to sleep in his bed." She kneeled beside his bed and inched closer. "I thought you were supposed to protect your little sister?"
Dammit, she was guilt tripping him into letting her have her way - and it was working! Grumbling as he tried to think of a decent response, Shirou reluctantly moved to one side of his futon so his sister could join him. "Only since you're related to me - and just for today."
With his first paycheck, he had bought himself a king-sized futon. Not only had it been on sale, but his old single-width had been in need of replacement. Illya offered a quiet thanks before shuffled underneath the large white quilt.
Turning so he faced away from her, Shirou got comfortable and closed his eyes to try sleeping again. Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind. "Hey, Illya," he began. "What kind of noises were outside?"
There was a shifting noise as she settled into a good spot before she spoke. "It sounded like breathing and footsteps. I heard them outside but then there was a creak in the house and I came here right after."
Shirou rolled to face Illya. He scrunched up his face in confusion. "Footsteps?"
Then a shout from the opposite room brought them both to sit upright. By sound alone, they could tell it was Kiritsugu from his room across the hall. The sound of shattering glass followed and cut through the house. Shirou snapped up to stand, already running to the door before Illya had even begun to move. Whoever had managed to get into Kiritsugu's room was a professional. They had managed to go right through his bounded field and sneak around the house without anybody besides Illya hearing.
A half-naked Shirou stormed through two doors while projecting a blade in his hands. As the boy was raising his weapon into a practiced stance, he was forced to block an incoming blow with the flat of his blade. The strike was so fast he almost hadn't caught it in time and the force was on an entirely different level. The glove-clad fist impacted and completely shattered the projected sword like it was a dandelion puff in a gale-force wind. Shirou's eyes widened in pure shock while the fist carried on into his chest. Feeling his entire chest collapse, he was flung backwards like a ragdoll.
Shirou landed on his back and slid along the ground uncomfortably. Since the doorway to his room was staggered a few feet from Kiritsugu's, he had blown through the wall and spewed splinters throughout his own room. Illya's surprised voice called out his name although it barely reached his ears as searing pain coursed through his entire body. Avalon had kept his lungs from totally collapsing but hadn't done much more than that. Shirou had neglected to reinforce his body and had almost paid the price for such a slight mistake.
This intruder was obviously a woman if her face was anything to go off of. She wore a neat, trimmed business suit in burgundy with a matching tie. Even her hair and eyes matched the shade of her suit. The only thing setting the outfit apart was the white dress shirt beneath the suit jacket and a pair of silver teardrop earrings.
She had sharp, angular features and was of obvious western descent. Thin lips and eyebrows set in concentration. It was the face of a professional contract killer. This woman was dangerous, she had dealt with Kiritsugu before he could even act and had almost killed Shirou in one punch. Blood gurgled into his throat and mouth as his lacerated lungs began bleeding profusely. It was like he was trying to breathe halfway underwater. Each breath agitated the liquid running through his respiratory system and made him want to cough violently.
A warming feeling suddenly spread through his body, starting at his core. Illya's hands were there, healing his pulverized ribcage. Breathing returned to him and grew easier with each passing second. "You idiot, you almost got yourself killed," she sniffled.
Looking at her face, Shirou could see a tear running down her cheek. Was that because of him? "Illya," he croaked, pain and pressure in his chest halting his voice momentarily. "Get out of here and go get Rin, I'll be fine," was what he said. He really just wanted her to leave. Rin was smart, she would decide the best action would be to flee and she'd force Illya to leave with her. Shirou would die trying to protect their retreat but that suited him just fine. He would do his best to provide them with as much time as they needed until he was sure they were safe.
Struggling to his feet, he found the strange woman standing in the doorway ominously. Odd, usually combatants took every advantage they could, was she pitying them? Or was she just playing with them before she really put in effort to kill them all? "If I leave you'll-"
"Get out of here!" Shirou shouted angrily, clenching his hands to fists as he faced the suit-clad woman. His sister twitched before motioning with her hands and murmuring a spell. The wall to Shirou's right liquified and dripped onto the floor. A hole appeared large enough for her to leap through to go find Rin. The suit-clad intruder hardly seemed to notice, eyes focused solely on the opponent that was going to put up a fight. Unceremoniously, Shirou cleared his throat and spat a glob of mucus and blood onto the floor. His eyes wandered behind the intruder to land of Kiritsugu's downed form. He was crumpled and limp in the corner. A large red patch of blood stained his front and dripped onto the floor. "Trace on."
It didn't take much more than a cursory glance to tell that the old man's organs had stopped. This assassin had killed him before he could even put up a good fight. Cursing himself, Shirou focused his tracing on his opponent. He could grieve after removing the threat, or after he died. She was a magus of about twenty-one years old. Exactly one hundred twenty-eight point five-five pounds and five point six-four feet tall.
Her entire outfit was laden with detailed magical runes. Comparing her suit to Kiritsugu's coat would be like comparing the Mona Lisa to a child's colouring book. He could trace his father's cloak, but if what happened to his hastily projected sword was any indication, imperfect creations were useless. He would need to go through his full aria before even attempting to project something to use. Shirou wouldn't say he was outclassed, he was never outclassed with a skillset like his, he just needed time. He already had a plan.
"Judging the concept of creation." While speaking the first line of his aria, Shirou filled the porous space of his muscles and bones with mana. Reinforcement was definitely something that he could do in the meantime. Now, he could receive and deliver blows without the risk of death from the first blow.
The two snapped forward to meet in the middle. Shirou elected to play defence, he had moved forward to keep his back away from the wall, being trapped would spell certain death. He needed to learn this woman's technique in a few seconds and then try to break it down to better defend himself. After blocking and redirecting three attacks, a space where he would have made a move of his own came up, a gap in her defence. Since he restrained himself, he had been able to catch the unexpected strike brought on by her knee. Setting his jaw in preparation, Shirou crossed his arms and forced them out to meet the blow head-on.
He rapidly came to the realization that her punches had been nothing compared to her kicks. The power behind her legs was at least double that of her arms. Unable to direct the force anywhere, he was forced to slide backwards on his bare feet all the way to the back wall of his room. A pins-and-needles type pain shot through both his forearms. The force behind that blow had actually disturbed and unwound the reinforcement in the area. Thankfully, it didn't take much more than a half second to restore the magecraft to its undamaged state. "Hypothesizing the basic structure, duplicating the composition material." Shirou had nothing he could use, he just needed to focus on completing his aria. After that, he could enact his plan. Raising both arms to shield his face, he stopped a flying kick from taking his head clean off his shoulders. Even reinforced, the bones in each forearm cracked with a disgusting noise.
The force sent him backwards further, out the exterior wall into the sloped front yard where he rolled backwards once before popping up onto his feet. "Imitating the skill of its making, sympathizing with the experience of its growth, reproducing the accumulated years," he murmured under his breath, sucking in lungfuls of the cool night air. Shooting pain was coursing up his arms and into his shoulders. Blocking any more attacks like that would break his arms. Only one more line to speak, then the image in his mind would be perfected. Shirou lowered his arms to spot the suit-clad woman staring down at him.
When the father-killer leapt from the hole in the wall, Shirou leapt to one side and ran around the side of the house. He needed a flat open area before he could even out the fight. Trying to fight the high ground probably wouldn't end well. Reaching the backyard, Shirou barely turned around before he had to catch a fist aimed for his kidneys. Holding onto her gloved hand, information flooded his mind. The exact construction, the imbued magecraft and her entire martial arts style became as well known to him as breathing. Tracing through sight took a lot more effort and wasn't as defined as tracing through touch.
Gray smoke and the scent of burning flesh wafted from the hand that had caught her glove and the two shared a look of mutual surprise. Neither had expected him to stop her fist. "Excelling every manufacturing process," he spoke directly into her face and golden sparks spewed from his body as the images in his mind worked to become reality.
Out of fear, the assassin leapt back from the sparking boy. In a second when the odd display ceased, there were two people wearing identical suits, in identical stances. The only difference between them was the colour of their hair and the expression on their faces.
The leather covering Shirou's gloves squeaked in anticipation. Just because he knew her martial arts style now didn't mean he really knew what was coming, it just meant he knew what she was capable of. She had a vast array of opening attacks which lead into combination moves that all changed fluidly depending on the situation. Trying to guess which attack she would lead with while simultaneously moving to counter was a wild guess with a slim chance of success.
Judging by the quality of the traced outfit alone, this woman was an incredible magus. She was twice as powerful as Rin or Illya and she clearly focused all of her ability in combat-worthy magecraft. The girls wouldn't stand a chance against her; Shirou was proud of his decision to let them retreat.
The woman snapped forward and Shirou was suddenly forced to counter attacks with twice the ruthless ferocity he had grown used to. The outfit he had copied thankfully matched his speed to the woman, which meant defending himself was significantly easier than it had been before. But just because he could move to intercept her blows now didn't make blocking them any easier. Each blow he defended sent a rattle through his bones out through his feet. The suit displaced the incoming energy much like Kiritsugu's coat so the attacks no longer threatened to shatter his bones.
Ten whole seconds of sustained hand-to-hand followed. The two used identical motions with similar footwork, giving the battle a sense of fluidity. The two slowly rotated around one another until their positions had been swapped. Even with all the grunts and expelled breath, nothing had been gained by either party. The two separated and the assassin paused as if evaluating the situation. Shirou tried deciphering something, anything from her eyes but found an empty wordless void within.
Even with his strength and defence on par with hers, his stamina definitely wasn't. The intruder didn't even seem winded while he was doing his best to take deep, controlled breaths to recover quicker. Shirou was running out of options. He didn't have any combat spells and anything he could project wouldn't work in this situation. She was too skilled in hand-to-hand, if he tried projecting a blade to help him out, she would slip under its range and he would be screwed.
If she was any good at her job, she would have realized he was using her own technique against her. She might have been thinking about how such a thing was even possible or how she could go against her own style to defeat what was essentially herself. She would mix it up, which was fine. She wasn't the only one that could change styles.
Taking the initiative and lunging forward, Shirou threw a feint-jab at her shoulder with his right fist. Moving to guard high, the assassin was unable to reverse the motion to cover her abdomen where Shirou's real strike had been aimed. With a grunt and a release of air, the woman leaned forward to better absorb the impact. Trying his best not to let an advantage escape him, Shirou wrapped his right arm around her neck. With his height and weight advantage working alongside a limit-reaching reinforcement, Shirou easily lifted the woman vertical and upside down before throwing her over his back. The two landed on the ground with a whump. The pained, breathless wheeze of the smaller individual revealed to Shirou that she could be harmed.
Rolling away and easing onto their feet, the two re-evaluated one another again. Shirou felt as if he wasn't even bruising the woman. Her form was absolutely perfect even though she had taken a direct blow to the stomach that would have surely ruptured her organs.
He knew this was a fight he couldn't win, but he had no idea just how badly he'd been outclassed. "Now!" came a shout from behind the assassin. The two combatants were confused and each looked in different directions to find the source of the voice. There was a sound of strain as the woman in the suit found her body constricted by blue wiring. It had been wrapped around her at least ten times and seemed to be doing a good enough job. Shirou began to realize what was going on and he started moving to capitalize on the moment before scrambling backwards as a glint in the night sky caught his eye.
Those were jewels flying through the air. Unlike the gems she had used against him earlier today, these gems were genuine and brilliant purple like Sakura's hair. If Rin had made some plan with gems, she was taking this seriously and was prepared to level the entire yard. Six feet above the suit-clad assassin, the gems exploded and showered her and the area in a fine mist of sparkles that glittered brilliantly in the moonlight.
Then the entire area erupted. Massive purple gems formed from the dust. There were dozens of segments and not a one was smaller than three feet wide. Jarring, inconsistent movements compressed these irregular jewels against their focus point, the pugilist trapped within. Shirou watched her collapse on one knee and crane over as the pressure bore down on her body.
With each compressing movement, crackling and shattering noises pierced the air. The jewels were breaking as they collapsed on the center point; the purpose of this spell wasn't to harm but to hold in place so the next attack could be lined up.
Shirou felt something wrap around his waist before tugging him backwards roughly. Snapping his head around to figure out what was going one, he realized that Illya had wrapped a thread from Storch Ritter around him. The beautiful bird construct flapped its powerful wings to tug him away from the jewel-jailed intruder. Glancing back at his former opponent, Shirou spotted four more sparkling gems flying through the air. The sword-like shapes of these were much more familiar to him.
Almost in slow motion, Shirou watched the sword-gems spin and dance in their path towards the imprisoned woman. When they were only a foot away, the crystalline cell burst in a spray of gem-dust. Still kneeling, Shirou noticed that the suit-clad assassin had managed to break out of Illya's bindings even while trapped by Rin. The sword-gems touched the woman on the back and all at once they exploded violently.
The force of the blast was intense, creating a massive fireball which scorched the surrounding area and blasted Shirou away even though he was already a considerable distance from the epicentre. The force of the explosion coupled with the tugging of Storch Ritter actually slammed his back into the stone wall which circled the perimeter of his home.
Thankfully, Shirou hadn't hit his head, which meant he was still mentally alert, he could still fight. Anger started to burn within him. Rin and Illya hadn't run, they had tried to join the fight. A sudden pit of despair bubbled up within him as thoughts began racing through his mind. That blast had been incredibly powerful, Rin had gone all out on charging those gems. Depending on the result, that could be extremely bad. If her attack hadn't killed the assassin, Rin would be defenceless and she would be the next target. Rin wouldn't have enough mana to cast a diversion spell or anything that could help her escape. After Rin, the assassin would turn to Illya.
Unless the gems had done their job and the intruder had died in the blast. Trying to move forward, Shirou found that Storch Ritter was still pulling him away. With some frustration, he projected a simple knife and tried to cut his bindings, only to find that he couldn't. Every time he ran his blade across the string, the metal of his projection sparked as if it were grinding off.
Illya hadn't used her hair as a medium then, she had put in as much effort as Rin and used steel cabling to form her constructs. It was likely the sole reason why the assassin had been bound long enough for their plan to work. Shirou heard a gasp which brought his attention forward. Standing in the fiery crater was the slouched form of a woman in a suit. One of the sleeves and the entire back section of her suit had been blown off. Surprisingly, the suit didn't burn. The edges of the pieces blown off were not charred, only torn. A line of fresh blood dripped down her face from her forehead and the few drops sizzling on the ground behind her meant her back had taken some abuse as well. If the murderous glare in her eyes was any indication, she was taking things seriously now.
Her eyes were locked onto Shirou but she suddenly looked off to her left. Following the motion himself, Shirou spotted the kneeling form of Rin. She was struggling with the simple task of lifting her arm. Using her other hand to assist and support, she eventually managed. Extending a pointer finger, a black orb of Gandr formed and fired. Due to the shakiness of her limb, the shot went wild and missed by a good meter.
The woman in burgundy clenched both her fists, taking long strides towards the Tohsaka magus. Just as suddenly as she began moving, she turned around to face an oncoming projectile. Illya was using Zelle to fire bullets of compressed magical energy in an attempt at halting the assassin. On anyone else, it might have been effective, but this woman simply reared one fist back and destroyed the projectile with a single punch. Shirou had known the attack would fail from the start. Her gloves were covered in magic-resisting runes. She could quite literally tear mana constructs and spells apart with her own two hands.
The assassin punched two more bullets out of the air before resuming her journey towards the downed Tohsaka mage. Illya obviously determined that she was ineffective. If his sister hadn't tied him up and dragged him away, Shirou might have been able to reach Rin in time to protect her. Searching his mind for something, anything, Shirou found a crossbow which fired arrows that nullified magical projections from Kiritsugu's armoury. Tracing it into his open hand, he casually fired the bolt into the airborne Storch Ritter. With a shrieking cry of metal-on-metal, the bird construct broke apart and the mana weaved around its steel cable construction flickered away.
Without something tugging him away, Shirou sprinted towards Rin in a vain attempt at reaching her before the suit-clad woman. There were about six steps between the Tohsaka and this assassin, and thirty between her and Shirou. There was no way he would reach her in time but he had to. If he didn't she would die and it would be hisfault. He needed something to distract the assassin, to pull her away from Rin just long enough to make her focus on him. He needed a way to strike from a range, something that could scare her or even overwhelm her. A single thrown sword was just an annoyance; a dozen flying at once might do it.
Something in his mind clicked and the dim glow of Avalon suddenly illuminated his entire mind with radiant gold. Like a blindfold being lifted, everything became clear. If he considered the world as a three-dimensional grid-space of X, Y and Z coordinates, he could project at specific areas away from him, like in the air above his head. Since he had the starting point and the destination, he could perform trigonometry and mathematical calculations to determine the magnitude and direction of the velocity required. He could quite literally launch blades as if he were Gilgamesh using Gate of Babylon.
A dozen blades converging on someone all at once was certainly enough to at least make them back off and consider their options.
His mind found blade after blade and began editing their properties. It didn't matter what any of the weapons were, so long as they were sharp, he would use them. Kitchen knives, industrial equipment and actual antiquated swords he had seen on his trip to the museum for school all queued up to receive coordinates. Weapons he had only seen in pictures or on TV also formed within his mind. Shirou personally called these objects "hollow". Since he could only extrapolate the visual component of the weapon, that was all he had to go on. They were visually threatening but they had the overall durability of thin eggshells. They shattered like glass from the slightest touch. It didn't matter if they didn't actually hurt her, it was the threat Shirou wanted.
As if being pumped out one by one in a factory, blades checked themselves off and prepared to be actualized. With his aria still in effect, weapons materialized out of golden sparks and began hovering horizontally in the middle of the air. A few of them were far from perfect due to the speed of their creation. Shirou felt an instant heat bubble up from his core and spread through his entire body. This was sucking an exorbitant amount of mana to perform, hopefully, it would work.
The blades hovered in the air for a brief moment, checking themselves over before flinging towards the destined target like oversized bullets. "Get away from her!" Shirou shouted in blind rage as his projections closed the distance. The intruder turned her head and body to prepare for a threat.
Her eyes widened in surprise as more than a dozen different weapons all converged on her location with equally randomized speed. In mid-flight, the weapons shook and wavered. Some of them veered off to impale the ground prematurely or even flung off wildly into the star-filled sky. Errors in his grid system or his calculations most likely. Only three of the fifteen fired actually landed where Shirou had intended. Four had landed around the assassin's general area while the rest hadn't even been close. Thankfully, the effect had been enough to dissuade the assassin. She leapt and distanced herself from the downed magus.
Staring at the boy with wild eyes, the assassin seemed unsure of what to do with herself now. She obviously hadn't expected sword-based projectiles. Shirou continued running, standing valiantly in front of Rin with his eyes locked on the slightly wounded combatant. It wouldn't take much for the assassin to re-engage, he had to be on his toes.
"You idiot," Rin coughed, trying to stand with obvious effort. "I was trying to save you, you should have taken Illya and ran."
"Save me? I was the one trying to save you!" Shirou whipped his head to glance at the trembling Tohsaka.
"What are you talking about!? Why would you sacrifice yourself like that?"
"What were you just trying to do then?" Shirou pointed out, getting a few stumbling syllables from the magus.
The suit-clad assassin slowly dropped her stance. Her arms fell to the side and her back straightened, giving her a professional appearance. She was watching the two teens bicker over who was more suited to sacrifice themselves for the safety of the others with a raised eyebrow.
Just as Rin preparing to formulate an actual response, the sound of clapping stripped the attention of everyone away. Searching for the source, Shirou found it coming from inside the house behind Illya. This was perfect, the assassin had an accomplice and Illya was defenceless. Judging by the frozen statue-like position of the albino, she was terrified.
Shirou reached into his mind to try creating more sword projectiles but after the first two, his circuits crackled, sending searing jolts of pain through his extremities. He was out of mana and it looked like his body had been running on reserves for quite a while now. Two antique swords appeared in the air over his shoulders, but they wavered and shook as if unsure of their purpose. The boy collapsed onto one knee with a grunt, gritting his teeth in stubborn determination.
The clapping continued from within, nearing the glass doorway that had been shattered in Rin's attack. In a few seconds, the still-bloodied figure of Kiritsugu stepped down onto the scorched grass of his formerly pristine backyard. "I hadn't expected you to cause so much damage, but success is success in whatever form it takes." A smile spread across his face as he used one hand to rustle the hair of his daughter.