His fists unconsciously clenched and his eyes snapped open with renewed flame. With the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the pain and exhaustion in his body ebbed away. "Again, this time I won't lose!" he shouted defiantly, watching the enforcer cock one eyebrow as she slowly returned to her stance. Seemingly testing his offer, she shot forward and time seemed to slow as the familiar words left his mouth.
"Trace on!"
Bazett's heart rate and blood pressure were standard and she was operating at peak performance. Although, simple bodily stats weren't what he was looking for, what Shirou cared about was the rate of oxygen flow to various parts of her body. That alone told him which muscles she was flexing, how she would move and in what direction to anticipate attacks. It wasn't much, but it would help him out a tad as he attempted to develop his own fighting style.
He had no trouble blocking the first punch, as usual, using one forearm to hold back the powerful blow as he prepared a strike of his own. There was a spike of blood flow to one of her legs and the same arm she had thrown the punch with was moving to grab the wrist of his other hand were he to complete his strike. She was expecting his return and was preemptively moving to cover her dropped guard.
This was the problem, Shirou could never predict attacks while it seemed that Bazett could. Unable to move fast enough to simultaneously reverse his attack and cover his side, he settled for reinforcing his body and bracing. A massive force collided with his lower ribs and sent him flying back-first into one of the support beams of the dojo walls. Sliding down to the ground, his body collapsed as he tried to capture gasping breaths. Forcing his body to move, he propped himself up on his elbows and gradually pulled his leg up to help him stand. The taste of copper bubbled up in his throat and a quick trace revealed that she had ruptured his large intestine. Thankfully, Avalon was patching the organ up and the internal bleeding would stop before it became a major concern. Bazett sighed, shaking her head. "That was even worse than the last time, are you sure you want to keep getting your arse handed to you?"
He needed a style, something different of his own that could beat her. Over and over in his mind, Shirou wondered how Bazett seemed to know where his next attack would be. She had allowed her right side to remain open in that last attack, then preemptively primed her body to strike where his counterattack would be.
Had that been it? Had she purposefully goaded him into striking an area she expected to be attacked? In his mind, the blueprint of her gloves appeared and Shirou ran a scan over its accumulated history. All of her battles and all of her techniques revealed themselves to him. She had never used the moves she was using here with real enemies, but she had definitely used them before. In friendly spars or in training exercises, she left herself open and allowed the enemy to strike right where she expected, then capitalized on their surprise.
Why didn't she use that technique in real fights? Was it because she was scared that the enemy would see through it or that she'd be unable to block the attack? Or was it because the premise was suicidal? If she were outmatched in speed and power, the attack would go straight through into her most vital areas. Pushing off his knee and using the wall as a support, he eventually managed to stand. Shirou coughed up a glob of mucus and blood into his mouth, quickly spitting it onto the floor. "Again," he panted, lifting his fists.
"Jesus, kid. You're nothing if not persistent. This is the last time, then you can go practice whatever you do with Tohsaka." Bazett sighed once more, lifting her hands hastily as the boy lunged forward into her range. She easily blocked the first strike, but then Shirou switched his entire tactic and allowed her to make the first move. There was a lull in motion as the offence shifted from one party to the other. He positioned his hands so that his shoulder was left open. His eyes barely caught the twitch of her arm and with blind faith, he snapped one of his hands to where he believed her fist would land.
With a meaty thwack, Shirou's fingers wrapped around Bazett's fist and the two both made a noise of surprise. Bazett's eyes contracted into pinpricks, confusion and shock etched in her features, then Shirou's fist planted itself in her nose. Recoiling from the blow, both her hands came up to hold her face. Slowly her hands lowered, revealing unbridled fury and a bloodied nose. While Bazett's entire body from the neck down was defended by her suit, her face was still very much human. Letting the blood dribble from her injury, she reached into her suit and withdrew a pair of gloves.
Eyes widening, Shirou began murmuring his aria to prepare his own set. His minor victory had pissed her off and she was more than prepared to repay the favour it seemed. The woman tugged on the base of her gloves to tighten the material against her hands, casually stepping forward with an inferno raging behind those cool burgundy eyes.
Just as she leapt in to try and take his head off, Shirou projected his own pair of identical gloves around his hands and batted away the oncoming fist. His new technique had worked, but now the question was if it would continue working against someone stronger and faster than him. No longer was the woman leaving her defence open, so could he still pull off another strike if she were fighting for real?
Shirou grit his teeth as he was forced to defend a dozen punches from every direction. Using his knowledge of her fighting style and his new technique, he was able to hold off the oncoming blows without much worry. The intensity kept him from returning blows of his own but he was working to change that. With each blow, his technique slowly built and developed itself in his mind. Shirou could actually start to feel his body wanting to react differently to her attacks. Each blocked strike brought with it a miniature explosion of raw power - she wasn't pulling her punches and it definitely showed. The entire dojo shuddered as the air pressure slammed into the walls.
Deciding to test his fresh technique, he left his arms high and tried to bait her into kicking his ribs once more. Eventually, she bought, back leg pivoting just a little more than usual to reveal her true intentions.
Against his survival instincts, he dropped his guard from the rest of his body and dropped one hand, bracing it against his hip to catch her foot. As if on queue, his hands wrapped around her foot and the woman made a grunt. With a noise of his own, Shirou took one step forward while yanking her leg high with one hand. With the extreme change of balance, the woman fell over onto her back. Shirou let the leg in his hand slip free along his hip, allowing him to close the distance and rear his other fist back to strike at her downed face.
Then he paused, holding his fist high. There was a second as the two simply panted heavily, frozen in place as they looked into one another's eyes. He had won the fight, but he was hesitant to end it with this punch. It was barbaric to strike someone when they were down like this. Then Bazett wrapped both her legs around his neck and rolled him over like a crocodile.
Faster than he could react, he was on his back with the full weight of the Irish woman atop him. With a tensing of her powerful legs, his oxygen was entirely cut off. "You still lose, kid," she huffed once, leaning forward while maintaining pressure with her legs. He couldn't breathe and with his body screaming for oxygen from his previous exertions, his vision was already fading. "Don't stop fighting until your opponent is unconscious or dead."
… … …
Shirou's eyes opened to the gentle sound of humming. Even though his eyes were still blurry, he could tell he was in the stone shed. The gray colour on all sides was unmistakable. The question was, who was humming, and why?
Turning his head, he watched a blurry figure wearing red stretching high to grab something from one of his shelves. It was Rin, he could recognize that figure and those legs anywhere. From this low position and with her pose like that, he could almost see directly up her ski-
Shirou suddenly turned his head away in embarrassment, closing his eyes to try and purge the sight from his mind. Rin must enjoy the attention such an outfit got her. Nobody in their right mind would wear a skirt that short in the middle of winter for any other reason.
The Tohsaka continued hunting for whatever it was she was looking for, knocking something over that shattered loudly on the stone floor. She paused, expressed a calm "whoops," and continued her humming search.
Shirou tried his best to appear sleeping as he listened to her discover the object of her search. She carefully stepped over to his side and kneeled on the ground. Something was placed under his nose and upon the first inhale, Shirou's body was forced to react violently. An incredibly powerful smell of chemicals filled his nose and burned everything from his nose to the bottom of his throat. With hacking coughs, he abruptly sat up and clawed at his nose to try and rid himself of the feeling.
"Huh, these things work a lot better than I expected them to," Rin commented. Glancing her way, he could see a small plastic capsule between her fingers.
"Who uses smelling salts on someone?" he coughed out, desperately rubbing at his nose and scrunching up his face in discomfort. He had known exactly what the package was when he put it together with the smell.
"Well, I couldn't have you unconscious all day, dummy. I had to wake you up somehow." Rin shrugged, offering a slight smile as Shirou glared at her. "Now come on and stop wasting time. I want to experiment with that new form of projection you have."
"Rin, what do yo-"
"Just sit there and try to follow my instructions, alright?"
… … …
Rin left for her own home when night rolled around, leaving an exhausted Shirou behind. She had tested every possible theory she had and forced him to push each limit he'd set for himself. Everything from their rate of creation to something as minute as their stability when being formed. She had decided the latter by balancing a glass of water on the tip of the blade as it was being established in mid-air. The projected blades in creation seemed to act like a permanent fixture, holding any amount of weight on any point without wavering. This changed when the blade finalized itself. After completion, physics took effect and the blade acted accordingly. Needless to say, there was a lot of glass and water on the shed floor.
Using this strange property, Shirou could make a set of makeshift stairs that he could climb. Slowing down the process of creation, he could make these sword-stairs last a good thirty seconds before they started acting as they were supposed to.
His projections had several strange limitations and features like this. Another notable one was that he couldn't alter the blade after it was launched. As in, after defining a target and altering the weapon to have a velocity, he couldn't change it in any way. Rin couldn't offer an explanation simply because of her unfamiliarity with his entire field of projection. According to her, mobile projections like this weren't even possible.
Shirou stepped out of the stone shed, looking over a nameless sword in his hand. Lightly rusted and far from its prime, it assisted Shirou in realizing that he needed to expand his collection of swords. But where in this day and age would he find quality blades?
Maybe the old man would know or Taiga's father, Raiga. After all, he was the leader of the local Yakuza. His knowledge of Fuyuki and its going-ons must be commendable at least to hold a position like that. Normally Shirou disliked gangs and criminals, but Raiga's Yakuza were much more civilized and decent. They tidied up petty criminals around the area and while they had protection fees, they were reasonable and the protection was genuine.
His men - and sometimes Raiga himself - occasionally asked Shirou to repair their cars and motorbikes. He had done it for free every time and had always done it faster than any mechanic in the area thanks to his tracing ability. After all, he had done for them, Shirou could easily be considered a good friend.
The blade in his hand faded away into golden sparks. Speaking of the Yakuza, Taiga would likely show up soon, which meant he would need to start dinner or face her wrath.
… … …
Dinner went as well as could be expected. Bazett spoke significantly more tonight than she had yesterday. Although, that wasn't saying much considering she didn't speak at allyesterday. She had even gone so far as to compliment Shirou's meal. He took it as an incredible commendation. A woman like her with all her life experiences must have eaten some phenomenal cuisine, so for his to be on par with those must mean his cooking was quite special. Taiga had shown up on time and was surprised and slightly angered to find Bazett. For her cover story, Kiritsugu simply told her the truth - Bazett was the daughter of an old friend of his and she was staying here while she found a job.
Shirou could understand where the emotions came from. Bazett was a couple years older than her, quite attractive and more Kiritsugu's style - serious, calm and composed. All things that Taiga wasn't. The lovestruck girl probably saw her as direct competition, even though Bazett seemed to hold a mild form of contempt for the man.
Thankfully dinner hadn't elevated to a dining room brawl and Taiga had left on good terms. Deciding to tuck in early tonight, Shirou had gone off to get some sleep. Since his room was occupied, he had been moved precisely one room over. Even with a warm, familiar bed of his own, sleep just wasn't coming peacefully to him….
Closing his eyes was normal, as was the flickering flames of his common nightmare. He was accustomed to it, the Great Fire bothered him no more beyond refreshing the sense of guilt in his mind. A new dream, a new sensation had developed and was keeping him from dreaming.
Just before slipping off to sleep, the scent of cold steel and smoke filled his nose and an incessant pounding came all at once from every direction. It was impossible to rest with such a sudden noise crashing into his ears like a cymbal. Rolling over restlessly in his futon, he caught the time on his clock: midnight. At this rate, he wouldn't get a wink of sleep before school started. While spells to reduce fatigue existed, he'd have to ask Rin to cast them and that felt too embarrassing. She'd probably call him stupid too.
Closing his eyes defiantly, he set out to give sleep another try. Long before he got close to a good rest, the sound of a sliding door interrupted him. Opening his eyes and sitting up, he spotted an unnaturally sheepish Illya.
"You couldn't sleep either, huh?" she asked. Her voice was strange, softer than he had ever heard with something strange hiding just beneath the surface. "I've been having nightmares since then."
Shirou felt a pang of remorse. If he had known how that night would have turned out, he would have never asked for Illya's help. His foolish mistake had scarred her more than the faint scar on her chest.
"So you want to sleep beside me and see if that fixes things?" Shirou put two and two together. With uncertainty, she nodded and took a started walking forward as if he had already agreed.
With a half-sigh, Shirou shuffled over on his futon and allowed her some room. He couldn't deny such a simple request after all he had put her through. Thinking about sleeping in the same room as Rin or Sakura weirded Shirou out entirely. Since Illya was his sister, the thought wasn't as bad. Relatives did this kind of thing, right?
In a minute, the two were settled and trying their best to sleep. Ten minutes passed for Shirou with similar results. Each time he neared unconsciousness, the ear-ringing clang of hot steel would abruptly wake him. Carefully, he rolled to face his sister. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was slightly parted. With a quick trace, he made note of her heart rate and body temperature to ensure she was asleep. If only he could read minds to make sure her slumber was dreamless. If this was all it took to stop her nightmares he decided that it wasn't that bad. Certain graces could be made for siblings after all...
Watching his sister like a creep actually got his eyes rather heavy. It was like her exhaustion was contagious and without warning Shirou found himself slipping off.
… … …
… … …
… … …
The land was empty, an endless expanse of earth beneath a calm, cool blue sky. There was no sun visible, however, it was obviously day. The ground was foreign and clearly fabricated. Tall, wild grass with inconsistent overgrowths and barren patches of randomized shapes. Below, his feet left impressions in the soft, dense clay. The grass around him didn't seem to mind the fact that it was growing through clay in the slightest.
Shirou looked around, trying to find a landmark to help guide him. There wasn't a single thing in sight. Nothing in the distance, no trees or hills. This was just a perfectly flat world full of grass. His mind was telling him that he had a goal to accomplish here, something that had to be done before he could leave. Shirou cautiously made one step forward, then another, choosing a direction and walking toward whatever end this world had.
Shirou knew this was a dream. His motions were light, his mind impossibly clear and when he closed his eyes, the image of his "birth" during the Great Fire was nowhere to be found.
Rin had told him once that dreams were significant in a way few understood. They could foretell the future or reveal insight into oneself. With what happened to Kiritsugu, Shirou more than believed the former, but how could a dream show more about himself than he already knew?
So what was this dream trying to show him? Caught up in his mental questioning, he hadn't noticed the abrupt appearance of a blade in the ground. It hadn't been there a moment ago, so where had it come from?
It was familiar, a blade Shirou recalled well. It was the same sword he had held just hours prior, the European longsword traced during his visit to the history museum. What was it doing here? Wrapping his hand around the handle, golden sparks crackled around his skin. There was pain, but not enough to stop him from pulling the weapon free. As it was lifted to his face for examination, the sword dematerialized into a blue cloud.
Scrunching his face in confusion, another blade caught his eye. This one was in much better shape but had been originally seen in the same place. The weapon was significantly younger than the last. It was a remake, a modern rendition of a medieval greatsword that was too large and unwieldy for Shirou to operate effectively. With a hasty jog, he moved over and repeated the removal process. It responded in the same way, which served only to confuse him more.
Turning around, Shirou spotted a strange ring of flame. It had originated from where the first sword was drawn and it was slowly growing to consume the wild grass.
Something told him that the flames weren't right. They weren't supposed to exist in this world. As he prepared to back away, they extinguished themselves as if obeying his thoughts.
Shirou felt as if he were in an inferior version of The Twilight Zone. He was prepared to just lie down and admit that he would never understand this subliminal garbage until a familiar sound caught his ear.
It was faint and hardly audible but unmistakable all the same. The forging of steel, a consistent sound that resonated deep within him for reasons he couldn't understand. Turning to face the sound's origin, Shirou spotted a hill and immediately his mind began to pound in tune with the clanging steel. Jutting out from the thick grasses was a hardened, baked-clay spire about twenty feet tall.
He could see the source of the noise now. Just above the crest of the hill were blades locked in an endless cycle. Forming, colliding with one another then dematerializing into blue clouds. It was incessant, stubborn and ultimately futile. What was the point of it all? The sight actually infuriated Shirou for reasons he couldn't comprehend.
Shirou found himself climbing the hill without memory of ever walking toward it. His mind had already created a blade, the long greatsword he had withdrawn earlier. He realized his goal in this dream, to halt the idiotic repetition that plagued this world. As if sensing his approach, the blades stopped their battle, suddenly turning to face the boy moving to interrupt them. Shirou had never seen these weapons before but their appearance was unforgettable. Short, falchion-type blades designed to be the absolute antithesis of one another. While one had a blade of purest white, the other was of deepest black in a beautiful yin-yang type display. The only difference beyond the colour scheme was that the black blade also used a hexagonal design with the borders in bloodied crimson.
In all his life, Shirou would never forget those magnificent weapons. From the first glance alone, he was truly awed at their beauty, but he couldn't quite appreciate it very much while they were flying straight toward him.
With all his strength, he swung the sword up from his low grip and struck the black blade as it had launched itself first. Shirou expected some resistance from the weapon but instead of deflecting, it simply dematerialized upon contact and made Shirou greatly overswing.
Unable to defend himself from the incoming white blade now, Shirou was forced to abandon the greatsword and focus on dodging. With such little time, he had no chance of making it out unscathed. The blade flying toward him tore out a large chunk of his midsection, dematerializing in the same instance after completing its task. Before he could even react, the black blade was already upon him once more. Lifting his arm and moving to the other side, it narrowly missed his hip.
The white blade had returned to his front and a new sword found its way into Shirou's hand, a lighter blade that could be swung with one hand. Since all he needed to do was touch the blades to stop them, it wouldn't matter how much force he applied to his swings. As he prepared to deflect the white sword, searing pain jabbed into his spine and his body collapsed onto the clay below without warning.
Falling, the white sword flew over of his head into the distance. Looking over his shoulder, Shirou spotted the black blade embedded into his back. It had severed his spine and crippled him from the waist down, he was out of the fight now. Somehow, the weapon returned to strike him in the back after being dodged. Thinking it over, he had made a stupid mistake in assuming the sword couldn'treverse its motion after being launched.
Some distance away, the white blade spun in the air to reverse its motion and was on its way to finish him off. He had failed in his objective, there was no hope for him now, he would die on this hill. Shirou slowly closed his eyes, accepting his face and the knowledge that he could not halt an unstoppable force such as this. These weapons would always clash, they would always fight regardless of what he did to try stopping it. The inside of his eyes were dark, cold and unfeeling. It was hopeless here, much like his chances at success.
That sword was taking an awfully long time to kill him, wasn't it?
Then a shout broke him from his depressed thoughts. Someone was screaming his name, they were crying, begging for him to stand and fight. He opened his eyes and watched a black shot of Gandr colliding with the blade that had spelled his demise. In a splash of blue, the weapon vanished.
"Get up and fight you big idiot! You're going to let one little thing take you out like that?" a woman shouted, moving to stand between the downed boy and the top of the hill. It was Rin, someone unmistakeable in appearance although she hadn't been the one calling out for him. Ahead, dozensof the black and white blades had appeared in the air. Instead of firing all at once, however, they were firing sequentially - one at a time.
There was no way Rin would survive an onslaught like this, not on her own. Shirou wanted to do something, anything to help her survive but his circuits weren't working. He couldn't project any blades to help her, the process just wasn't cooperating.
"Because it's not correct," a voice whispered into his ear, creating a jabbing pain in his temples with each syllable.
Rin had done her best with lowering the number of blades but for each one she destroyed, two more took their place. The rate of their launching changed too, accelerating linearly with the total amount. Switching from the more accurate one-handed method, the Tohsaka mage used both hands to fire Gandr like she was using dual pistols. The bright blue-green glow of her combined magical circuits began to peek through the sleeves of her shirt. Even pushing herself like this, it was obvious that the girl would be overwhelmed soon. The weapons weren't difficult to destroy but their numbers were growing to a staggering number.
Rin had taken a step back, fear evident in her actions as the weapons progressively got closer to spearing her. Since there were almost two firing at a time now, she couldn't destroy them before they fired and cleared about half the distance to her. Just as it looked like she would be engulfed in blades, a spear of inky black pierced through a half-dozen of the blades in one thrust. Sakura moved beside her sister, holding out an open palm to guide the dark weapon to its targets. Each weapon the spear touched didn't fade away as if destroyed but rather fell apart into metal shards as if the bonds between each magical particle had been removed. Shirou had never seen such a technique or spell before. He didn't even know Sakura could use magecraft.
"You need to get up, Senpai. We'll help you along the way!" she shouted with more emotion than he had ever heard her use. She was crying but keeping a strong facade as she assisted the Tohsaka magus in protecting him.
"Don't let us both down now or we'll never forgive you!" Rin added.
Even with their combined forces, the battle wasn't looking any better. Like an endless tsunami, the number of blades continued to grow in number and in ferocity. One managed to go straight through their defences and slice through Rin's midsection as it had done to Shirou. The girl made a noise, stumbled with one foot but otherwise held firm.
She was still alive, they were still holding on. Shirou wanted to help but how could he from here? His magecraft wasn't working and his body was in no condition to start battling weapons. A warming feeling came from behind, something had been removed from his body and his lower half painfully regained feeling. Looking back, he spotted Illya, healing his injury with tears streaming down her face. "Daddy said you'd protect me no matter what," the homunculus sniffled, wiping her eyes on the back of her arm. "So you can't give up!"
Seeing her face and hearing her words ignited something inside Shirou. His friends counted on him, they needed him to stop this force and only he could do it. Anger, determination and dedication swelled in his chest and seemed to refresh his entire being. With feeling in his limbs once more, he stumbled onto one knee and forced himself to stand. "Trace on!" he commanded, and the swords ahead seemed to hold for a fraction of a second. One shakey step after another, he resumed climbing the hill as blueprints of the weapons ahead filled his skull. They were simple, without purpose or a sense of anything, but at the same time, they were crafted with incredible skill and of the highest quality. Taking the time to go through his aria wasn't going to be possible here. It would take too long and put Rin and Sakura's safety at risk, he couldn't project blades.
"Little do you know," came the same voice as before. Was this voice mocking his struggle or was it trying to help him in a convoluted way?
There was a blade that had been created near the side, out of Rin and Sakura's view. They hadn't noticed it and it was preparing to fire. Shirou opened his mouth to shout a name, but his throat simply would not release a sound. He reached out and tried to move in the way, but it was simply impossible with the amount of distance between them.
The blade fired and shot straight towards Rin. There was no doubt it would kill her. Primed to strike her abdomen and take her out with a single strike. If she fell, then a major point of their resistance would fall and it would all go downhill from there.
Out of nowhere, the old man seemed to appear. Placing himself between the Tohsaka magus and the oncoming weapon, he was speared through the abdomen unceremoniously. Blood spewed from the wound and he slid down the hill a few feet but he was still standing. Without skipping a beat, the Magus Killer raised the weapon in his hand and sprayed bullets wildly into the steadily growing wall of blades. The hosing of bullets was incredibly effective but the act seemed to draw the attention of every blade summoned. Without warning, they all turned toward him and began firing haphazardly. These were no longer coordinated projectiles but a complete zone annihilation. Hundreds of blades struck his location all at once. There was no possible chance of surviving such an attack, even if he had tried to dodge out of the way.
Dozens of weapons impaled his entire body. Arms, legs, torso and neck ran through leaving blood spewed across the surface of the hill. His body was carried off the hill from the force of the impact. Landing somewhere in the thick grass below, his body disappeared without a trace. Even after he was gone, more weapons continued to bombard his location to add insult to injury.
An indescribable rage washed over Shirou. What sort of force would so mercilessly kill his father with such prejudice? What reason would it have to slaughter a man who had done nothing but good his entire life? The weapons seemed angered by Kiritsugu's mere existence. They had killed him as if wanting to erase him entirely.
A red haze descended over Shirou's eyes and something within him stirred. The swords in his mind began appearing over his shoulders with a spray of blue light. They were being made faster than ever before at a quality that was greater than he was used to. Perfect, identical copies of the blades before him formed and fired to destroy their brothers. The process of their creation was entirely different than he was used to. It was like they were being pulled straight from somewhere within him and placed in the real world rather than building themselves from a stored memory. The load on Rin and Sakura was taken away as Shirou countered the incoming barrage with one of his own. The cacophony of screeching metal and clanging steel actually hurt his ears but did nothing to slow his walk up the hill.
Step by step he moved closer to the peak, moving past the girls who had remained behind him, almost like they weren't prepared to follow him to his goal. While the oncoming blades dematerialized after being struck, Shirou's own weapons shattered into metal shards that littered the ground and rained down upon him. Even though these hot pieces were showering his body, he continued his journey. Five steps from the top, he started running out of steam. He had projected hundreds of blades already and there was no sign of the offence slowing down.
His body was on fire, magic circuits roasting him from the inside out. Surprisingly, his mind wasn't being overloaded over handling all the information from his projected blades.
"That's because you're doing it the right way, the way it's meant to be." The voice returned once more, seemingly guiding him. "Pull the blade from within, don't create a new image each time."
Shirou couldn't even listen to the words properly. His anger was overriding all of his senses, including pain. A blade impaled itself in his back, not paralyzing him and refusing to dematerialize as well. Three steps from the top, another blade ran him through the chest, piercing his lung and forcing his legs to shake. Blood was everywhere, but so long as he could move, he would. There was a ghastly humanoid shape waiting for him at the top of his hill, staring down at him with extreme contempt and hatred.
It was an emotion shared by both Shirou and this apparition. The white blade formed in his right hand, Shirou would kill this being just like he had killed the kidnapper. They had hurt Rin, they had made Illya cry, he wouldn't-
… … …
… … …
… … …
Shirou's eyes opened to the ceiling of his room. He had woken up, returned to his physical body after...what had that dream been about again? Trying to scour his mind for details, he found an absolute blank space. He was supposed to remember important details. Something about swords and his friends? Shirou was so caught up in trying to discern what the dream had just been about that he hasn't noticed his positioning in his futon with Illya.
Through the night, she had turned around and pressed up against him. He might have had some involvement in things considering that his arm was draped over her. Wanting to avoid ending up on a criminal watch list, he carefully removed his arm and got out of his futon without waking Illya.
The clock beside his bed told him it was time to get up anyway. Quarter to six was a little earlier than usual but that just gave him more time to exercise. He carefully turned off the alarm on his clock so that it wouldn't wake Illya. She could sleep in until school was about to start.
His mind returned to that dream as he moved to find a new pair of clothes. There were things he was supposed to remember that he couldn't for the life of him. Something about a sword? Something about…. There were people in that dream with him and he knew them well, so why couldn't he remember their faces? Grumbling, Shirou decided it wasn't worth exerting himself and he snaked out of his room to the dojo.
… … …
Today was much warmer than it had been the past few days. While it was much more pleasant to be outside, exercising was just a touch harder. After finishing his physical exercises, Shirou carried on with the daily ritual and practiced his magecraft. Normally, he had done this in a few simple ways. Meditation with his circuits active, reinforcing his body further and further or projecting various objects. Recently, he had started creating projectiles pointed towards him with the task of grabbing them from the air. That worked both his body and circuits simultaneously.
He was going to try something different today. Even though he couldn't remember anything from his dream, there was something that still pulled at him. It was the same feeling he'd had when he refined his tracing procedure all those years ago when Avalon had expressed its desire to be summoned.
There wasn't anything asking him specifically, but projecting objects how he was used to suddenly felt very wrong. He had already spoken the aria and called forth the blueprints in his mind, but he stopped at that point.
Shirou started focusing more on the blueprint and questions soon followed. Questions regarding how he could remember the details of weapons so well, where the blueprints were coming from and why he couldn't alter the weapons after they were created. He wiped away the weapon in his mind and summoned another one, trying to see where the blueprint originated.
It almost seemed like…as if the weapons were all being summoned from-
"You're up early," came a womanly grunt. Concentration broken, Shirou opened his eyes to find Bazett. "You usually get up around six-thirty then meander out here 'round seven."
For a woman who seemed to care little about those around her, she was awfully perceptive. "And you usually don't wake up until eleven," Shirou pointed out blandly.
The woman hardly seemed offended, shrugging impassively before running a finger along her forehead to move the hair from her face. "I needed to talk to you alone so I made a slight exception." Shirou narrowed his eyes, waiting for her to resume the dropped topic. "It's about your magecraft. Your physical abilities are on a level far above your age and from what you showed me last night, you're already on your way to developing your own fighting style. It ain't often that someone can land a hit like that on me. What's holding you back is your magecraft, you aren't going to be able to fight effectively with reinforcement or your little blade projectiles."
Shirou narrowed his eyes. Contrary to what Rin believed, he could see when someone was planning something. "I can't do anything about my magecraft. Reinforcement and projection are the only things I'm good at."
Bazett slowly walked in front of where Shirou was kneeling, settling down onto her knees herself before giving a sharp nod. "Absolutely right, and nobody around here is on your level."
He narrowed his eyes further. She was planning something, but he had no idea what it might be. "So what do you suppose I do? My only option is to continue training and hope Tohsaka can figure something out."
Bazett stared him dead in the eyes for a few seconds. "That's not your only option. There is one that your father's been hiding from you. Since I don't want to see your talent wasted, I wanted to make you aware personally." So that's what this was. Bazett was going behind the old man's back to let him know her thoughts. It wasn't surprising, considering how Kiritsugu liked to hide things away if he deemed them inadequate or plain idiotic.
Shirou snorted, running a hand through his sweaty hair. "The only other option would be to go attend the Clock Tower like a good little magus." Looking into her eyes and seeing the bland look, Shirou realized he had nailed it right on the head. "Now hold on a moment-"
"The Clock Tower has resources beyond what Rin or Kiritsugu can provide. You might be lucky enough to find someone who understands your form of magecraft and can assist you in developing it further." Bazett was trying to help him, but there were too many problems regarding the Mage's Association. Not only did his father have an incredible amount of enemies, if Shirou's ability was discovered, he'd become a sealing designate in an instant. Being able to trace Avalon and other relics was too good of an ability to let slip away. What finalized his disagreement was his sister. If the Einzberns heard of an Emiya roaming around Britain, they'd come for blood. The old man hadn't really asked for Illya politely after all.
"No way, it's too dangerous. Besides that, I have no way of getting i-" Shirou paused as his mind snapped onto a memory. Long ago, Rin had spoken about someone named Waver Velvet taking over the crumbling lord-family in the Clock Tower. She had remarked over how uncommon bringing an outside magus into a family was. That memory wasn't enough to pause Shirou on its own, but when combined with the fact that Waver Velvet had allied himself with the old man during the Fourth War…
"You just thought of a way in, didn't you?" Bazett asked blandly, getting things back on track. "So one way or another, you've got a way in, and you certainly have time. During the summer when school is out, you can attend the Clock Tower and learn what you can. That way, your exposure will be limited from the short stay." Bazett stood and rolled her shoulders one at a time, making loud cracking noises as they settled into place. "It'll put me a little closer to home too. Since your old man is paying me, I go wherever you go."
Shirou let his head fall. "So I can't escape beatings from you wherever I go, is that it?" he whined, getting an incredibly flat agreement as response.
"If I'm not there to kick your ass you'll get soft." She actually smiled for the briefest of moments, but maybe Shirou had just been seeing things. "Think about it, ask your girlfriend if you have to."
Shirou's head snapped up in astonishment. "I definitely do not have a girlfriend, I don't know what you're talking about." Hearing himself speak, Shirou realized how guilty that had made him sound.
Bazett chortled, walking towards the exit while throwing one hand over her shoulder. "Sure you don't, but talk to her anyway and see what she thinks."
Now alone, Shirou was left to stew in his own thoughts. It was true that the Clock Tower would have invaluable amounts of knowledge for him to use. Perhaps something about adding velocities to projectiles, or new weapons to add to his collection or even-
He paused, looking around briefly. Shirou could have swornthat someone had just tried to whisper something to him. Verifying that he was alone, he chalked it up to the wind outside playing tricks on his ears.
Was the high risk truly worth the reward? If the Mage's Association tracked him back to Fuyuki, Illya and Kiritsugu would be forced to pay the price. Shirou wouldn't even be able to help, he'd be put into a nice jar on a shelf long before he could ever see his sister again.
Maybe Rin would know what to do.
… … …
Would that boy go to no end to cause trouble?
If given the choice, would he seriously consider putting everything on the line just to save a few lives? The Magus Killer stared down at the unconscious form of the woman his son had dragged in nearly two days ago. Avalon had healed her wounds and time had finished what had been left but it would seem that her brain still believed she needed rest.
He looked towards her side, spotting a glass of water and an oddly familiar energy bar. That had been the same energy bar that he had hidden so he could enjoy it later today! It was his favourite flavour - one that had been discontinued - and was the last one at that.
Scowling, he reached down and collected his treat, tearing it open to indulge himself for once. Maybe it was his old age, but he had started caring less about others and more about his own family. It was a disgusting thought considering he had once wanted to save the world and had sacrificed his wife to achieve that very goal.
Looking back now, he realized how foolish such a wish really was. Nothing ever ended in rainbows and happiness like books, songs or legends claimed. Life had a way of hitting you when you were down, powderizing whatever little shred or scrap of hope you had left and grinding you into a paste. The strong become hollow, demoralized shells and the weak simply give up. Kiritsugu didn't know which category he fell into at this point.
So many people in his life had come to face this reality first hand. Maiya, Kariya and Sakura Matou, Tokiomi Tohsaka, his wife, Risei Kotomine and even himself. Every day he thanked whatever force preserved Illya's innocence and hope. Shirou was a lost cause, but he had always known that, hadn't he?
If Shirou could protect Illya and keep up the illusion that good existed in the world for her, Kiritsugu could die a happy man. Munching on the bar, the Magus Killer crouched down beside the woman and used his thumb to pull back her eyelids. Placing his snack between his teeth he snapped the fingers on his other hand and summoned a small flicker of flame to light up the room. In response to the changing light, her pupils contracted as he expected. Letting the flame die, they dilated appropriately as well.
"No major brain damage, so why aren't you waking up?" he asked himself, humming quizzitively. Just to test a hypothesis of his, he reached out and pinched her nose closed. The body was a very strange thing. So long as the brain was functioning properly, it would wake the body if signs of trouble arose. It was why drowning in the bathtub after falling asleep was impossible. If no oxygen was entering the lungs, the brain threw up every red flag it had. It was similar to the effect had near sleep where the body jerked awake just before unconsciousness.
Slowly, the Magus Killer counted how long he was depriving the girl of oxygen. He could feel her lungs futilely try sucking in air through her plugged nose. Three seconds passed and he was about to pull his hand away when several things happened all at once.
The girl's eyes and mouth snapped open, she heaved a great breath, tried to sit up then met Kiritsugu's hand and a searing pain to the head that set her back down on the ground. Judging by the fear in her eyes, she had absolutely no clue where she was, or perhaps it was a questioning gaze that pondered how she was still alive.
Pulling his hand from her face, the Magus Killer took another bite of his energy bar, motioning offhand to the glass of water. Her body seemed to break all hesitation her mind might have created. Without a second thought, she reached out and drained the entire glass in one big gulp.
"You shouldn't gorge yourself after dehydrating your body, it causes more problems than solutions," he pointed out casually. He wasn't going to stop her of course, she could make her own decisions.
His suggestion fell on deaf ears and she placed the now empty glass back on the floor and slowly sat up to curiously look around the room. Eventually, she settled on the man leisurely eating an energy bar, asking so many questions with a look alone.
"You're safe now, that kidnapper won't be hurting you anymore. But until you answer a few of my questions, you aren't allowed to leave." Kiritsugu popped the last bite of his snack into his mouth before standing. With a mouth half-full of food, he spoke rather clearly. "Come with me, you can use the bathroom and change out of those bloody clothes."
… … …
The weather outside had warmed enough to warrant a pleasant lunch on the school roof. Rin didn't even ask to take half of his lunch, trading their meals in a silent agreement. Shirou had felt too sheepish to speak up about it before but now it had almost become ritualistic. Trying to break the Tohsaka from her routine just wasn't possible, so he let sleeping bears lie.
Sliding his back down the wall, Shirou settled into place and Rin took her familiar spot on his left. Many days had been identical to this one, although for some reason he felt like this day would have significantly more yelling. "Tohsaka," he began, looking down at his bento as if it held the correct words.
"Uh oh, whenever you start conversations like that, you've got something important to say," Rin casually pointed out, mouth half-full of Shirou's portion of her lunch.
His head popped up and he gave her a glance. She had swallowed whatever was in her mouth, giving him a warm smile. Regardless of the situation, that damned smile always made his heart flutter. "Am I that easy to read?" he asked, getting a laugh from the Tohsaka magus.
"Ever since I've known you. You've always been an open book."
Looking into her bright cerulean eyes, Shirou almost got lost. Why did his body always chose to act like this during serious moments? He faced forward and took a large breath to try and clear his mind. "Bazett wants me to focus on my magecraft, she wants me to go to Britain over the summer so I can take classes at the Clock Tower."
He was expecting laughter or perhaps for her to call him stupid for thinking he could get into such a prestigious academy. She did neither, choosing to remain silent for a few long seconds. "Oh," she whispered, shuffling her knees up to her chin. "Kiritsugu probably knows ways to get you in so I'm not surprised. You'll be gone over the whole summer?"
"That's what you're focused on?" Shirou countered, glancing over to the magus questioningly.
"You were supposed to project a lot of gems for me and I had some experiments planned with your new ability." Her eyes and voice seemed devoid of emotion. It was like her brain was just relaying information while her body shut down completely.
"I see, so that's all you wanted me for."
"Of course that's not all I wanted you for you big dummy!" Completely opposite to how she had been, Rin shouted into his ear with surprising ferocity.
Shirou actually fell onto his side to avoid the loud outburst, looking back at her with bewilderment. "Can we focus on the matter at hand here?"
She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. "You're right. If you're going to be attending the Clock Tower, you're going to need a few things. A new name and identity and some other skills you'll use during your time there."
Shirou nodded, then realized what he was agreeing to. "Hold on, you really think I should go?"
Rin looked at him like he had just grown a second head. "Absolutely, passing up a chance to study at the Clock Tower would be the stupidest decision in your life!" She spoke as if he really was the idiot she claimed him to be.
Looking over her face, he realized something. She was a lot angrier than when he normally asked stupid questions. "Rin, why are you so mad?"
Her knees shuffled closer to her face and her eyes squinted and looked away. There was a very low mumble before she actually spoke at a level he could hear. "Because you're going to go there long before I can." Her eyes seemed to glaze and look absently forward. "As Second Owner, I can't leave the city I preside over until I'm an adult, regardless of how much of a prodigy I might be." She gave her head a light shake. "But this isn't about me. With your projection and tracing skills, you might become a half-decent magus."
"That's the problem exactly." The girl made a noise of confusion, looking toward him for an explanation. "If I show them my abilities, I might become a sealing designate. Neither one of us know just how well I can replicate things, what if it's possible for me to project noble phantasms or conceptual weapons?"
She didn't speak for a few seconds, thinking it over before nodding along with him. "If you could copy weapons like that, there's no doubt that the Mage's Association would try to reverse-engineer your ability. Although I doubt you could ever copy a noble phantasm and have it retain its properties." Shirou looked away so she couldn't read his face. If only Rin knew how broken his ability was. "That's not really the strangest part about you. If anything, you'd get designated for having a matching imaginary origin and element."
She was right. He hasn't even considered how the Association would look at his literal embodiment of sword."And if I get found out, it'll come straight back to Kiritsugu and Illya."
Rin paused and looked off into the distance again. "Then you're just going to have to hide your abilities. You can still project weapons, but you need to hide the process. No projectile creation either, that's probably not something normal people can do. You won't get designated for projecting blades in your hand. Even if they're near-perfect copies, it's still something from an everyday field of magecraft."
Shirou pulled himself off the ground, assuming that Rin was done with yelling for now. Sitting beside her, he just thought about her words for a long while. Rin seemed to be doing the same, thinking over the situation and putting the puzzle together in her mind. With pursed lips and gently flickering eyes, she was likely figuring out what he would need before he left.
"A new name," she mumbled from her knees, eyes snapping onto his when he didn't respond.
"Huh?" Shirou asked intelligently.
"You need a new name and a threatening nickname. Not just to hide your identity, but to protect you as well. A good nickname might scare the average mage from messing with you, meaning you won't have to interact with them so often, minimizing your exposure. I would have suggested a rendition of your father's old name but if you don't want attention brought to him, it might be best to avoid it entirely." Rin stretched out her legs a tad, graciously picking up what was left of her lunch to eat a few more bites. "Nicknames aren't as important as a good cover name you can stick to. If you mess up and respond to Emiya then it's all over from there."
He rolled his eyes. "I know how lying and deceit works."
Looking at him questioningly for a moment, she returned to her lunch. "You'll also need a mask or some sort of concealment for your face."
"What, why?" he asked, scowling.
"If anybody sees your face when you try telling lies they're going to see right through it. Giving you a mask will throw them off. With a mask, you can be honest all you like and people won't be able to tell if you're telling the truth, lying or being sarcastic."
He couldn't really argue against her, especially since she had such a compelling argument. Making a noise of defeat, Shirou returned to his own lunch.
"You'll also have to learn how to act around lords and magi in general. You have to speak with respect and civility, two things you're miserable with. I'll have to teach you before you leave and we've only got a few months so it's best if we start right away."
"Tonight then?" he filled in, getting a bright smile from the Tohsaka magus.
"Consider it a date, I'll bring over a few books on etiquette you can keep until you leave."
… … …
… … …
"That's all I remember, I swear!" the girl sobbed, wrapping her hands around the warm cup of tea in front of her.
He had pushed her too far, she was too mentally strained and as a consequence, she wasn't going to give him any new information. Interrogation never really was his strong suit. He could pull it off, sure, but it wasn't a major component of his profession since permanent silence tended to pay more than information extraction.
"Abduction, torture, then waking up now is all that you remember?" He wasn't asking because he hadn't been listening, he was asking to verify what had been said.
She nodded, tears sneaking through closed eyes to roll down her cheeks. A long period of silence followed, broken only by occasional sniffles. The woman had forgotten most of herself, similar to Shirou's predicament only she had gone through much more physical abuse. Her name and history were lost as her brain tried to forcefully block out the torture it had endured. A common ailment to survivors of extreme trauma.
"We're done for now, continue trying to remember every detail, no matter how small." Kiritsugu stood from the table and moved to the kitchen. Although leftovers didn't exist in his house with people like Taiga, snacks certainly did. Pilfering the cupboard, he found crackers and sugary treats. Nothing that could properly feed the woman, but something to hold her over until dinner arrived.
Setting what he found in front of her, she expressed a feeble thanks before hungrily taking and opening one package. The sweet food would aid in easing her emotions a touch. Sparing a glance at the only clock in the house, Kiritsugu realized that Shirou wouldn't be home for a few hours yet.
While he was waiting, he could pay a visit to the overseer of the Fifth Holy Grail War.
… … …
Illya waved goodbye to her friends as they left school for the day. When she had first gone to school, Illya had expected everyone to ostracize her for being more than an entire foot shorter than most people her age. But she was far from ostracized, the exact opposite in fact. The boys in her class liked her a little too much, claiming she was a "magical girl" from some manga or whatever due to her appearance and outfits. The rest of the class had taken the liberty to spread her image around as some sort of model student to strive toward. While nice of them, she definitely wasn't a role model: most of her assignments were late, she constantly rushed to meet due dates the day before and without Shirou and Rin helping her, her marks wouldn't be half what they were.
Typically, Illya would walk with her friends and split off when she got close to her house but today she was staying to watch Shirou in archery club. From what she had heard, a representative for Japan's kyudo community was talent scouting and had come specifically to see Shirou in action.
Since he hadn't even mentioned it to her or Kiritsugu, he must have thought it wasn't important. How could being recognized for his archery skills across all of Japan be unimportant?
Traversing the school grounds, Illya eventually found the archery hall and she quietly let herself in. Kyudo was very different from other forms of archery. It was ceremonial and ritualistic, rather than combat-oriented. The archer was expected to clear his mind and focus entirely on the bow and arrow, becoming one with the weapon. According to the "laws" of Kyudo, proper form and set-up would alwaysresult in perfect shot placement.
Illya had never seen Shirou use a yumi before so she was anxiously waiting for the chance. Upon entering the dojo, Illya was greeted to the sight of teenage girls anxiously watching something within while whispering amongst themselves. The entire entrance area was packed, held back by Mitsuzuri and Makidera who were menacingly brandishing shinai to act as gatekeepers. Evidently, Shirou had quite a fanbase. Far to the side, Illya briefly spotted Rin and Sakura speaking to one another.
It was surprisingly quiet in here, likely out of respect for the sport and the one performing it. With her thin frame and small stature, Illya easily squeezed to the front of the group and looked to Mitsuzuri who recognized her immediately. Motioning with her offhand, Mitsuzuri beckoned her forward. Interested in what the archery captain had to say, Illya moved onward.
Crouching, Mitsuzuri whispered close to her ear. "Shirou's setting up just now, you can go on to get a closer look but make sure you don't distract him, alright?" Nodding in understanding, Illya carefully crept down to the lower level to get a better view of her brother. At the moment, Shirou was positioning himself near the edge of the dojo where the floor broke off into dirt. He was dressed in simple, formal attire consisting of a white gi and a pair of pressed black hakama. The outfit was immaculate and from the way he was moving, Shirou seemed to be trying to preserve its flawless condition.
He was the only one setting up at the range and both eyes were trained on the target with extreme determination. If Illya had to guess, the target was only thirty meters away, something Shirou could pull off blindfolded after spinning around a few dozen times. Something at this distance was quite literally child's play for him.
Illya carefully moved along the back to the far side of the dojo where an older looking man in a trimmed suit was watching in interest. He took notice of her, but didn't speak out or comment on her presence. From this angle, Illya had a better look into Shirou's eyes. He seemed entirely fixated. If an explosion went off and killed everyone, Shirou probably wouldn't have even noticed. He methodically notched an arrow and raised the bow gracefully with even, flowing movements. With similar gracefulness, the string was pulled back to his shoulder and he paused to ensure his target.
Living with Shirou for most of her life, she had noticed quite a few things about the boy. The most major quirk of his was his inability to tell lies. His face literally held every emotion running through his mind.
Right now, he looked distant and almost regretful. It had changed so suddenly that Illya nearly flinched. While Illya had never seen him use a yumi before, she had watched him with other bows several times. Not once had he held an expression like this.
She watched him release a long breath before easing the string from his fingers. With a hearty thwack, the arrow was sent flying down the range - only to miss the target entirely. With her unnaturally gifted eyes, Illya was able to watch the arrow hit the dirt mount behind the target, severing an earthworm that had been writing on the surface.
There was a surprised gasp from the crowd behind him, then a sea of murmuring over what it meant for the boy. Illya just scrunched up her face. That shot was a piece of cake, he easily could have hit it if he wanted. He was up to something and the bright smile that spread across his face only verified her suspicion.
With surprising grace, he turned and bowed to the kyudo representative and then his flabbergasted audience. "So that's what it feels like to miss." Everyone in the crowd shifted, whispering to themselves in shock. Sakura seemed depressed, disheartened to the highest degree while Rin was smirking for unknown reasons.
… … …
"Idiot-Senpai," she mumbled, shaking her head quietly as she walked. Sakura had watched the entire affair at the archery club play out. While she wasn't a student at Homurahara Academy, she still wanted to see Shirou become recognized for his ability. He was an incredible archer, so why had he shot the wind so foolishly? He could have become famous, known throughout Japan competitively if he really tried. He must have had a reason to miss so blatantly. Rin hadn't let up anything, keeping her secrets to herself. From how the two glanced at each other after he had missed, Sakura could tell her sister had expected the outcome.
"What was that?" Shirou asked from her side, startling the girl out of her thoughts. Turning to face him as he spoke, his words clicked in her brain with a slight delay.
"N-nothing!" she clumsily stuttered out, turning her head to sheepishly look down at her feet. "I was just wondering why-"
"Why I chose to purposely miss a shot that would have led me into a regional championship, then quit archery club?" he filled in for her. Hesitantly, she nodded. Both of his actions had come as such a shock and she couldn't determine his reasoning at all. Mitsuzuri had really taken it hard, while Shinji…. "The answers to both are pretty simple. I didn't want my name becoming public, and kyudo was just too easy."
Gaping at him for the briefest of moments, she turned forward and thought it over. That shot had been the first and only time Shirou had missed his target, ever. She could understand how boring repetitive excellence might have gotten. What she didn't understand was why he didn't want the attention. Sakura would kill for attention, especially from a clueless redheaded boy in her near vicinity. "Senpai, what's wrong with publicity?"
She turned to watch him, reaching up with one hand to fiddle with the ribbon tied on her left side. He shrugged impassively before speaking. "Nothing for normal people, but I'm not very normal. A lot of people want to hurt the old man, if word of an Emiya in Fuyuki got out, they'd come looking for us."
Sakura nodded with a sad smile. "You gave up everything to protect your father."
"He's only part of it. There's a group of people who hate him so much, they don't want to kill him." Sakura was about to ask what he meant but he continued before she could. "They want to kill Illya, the only thing he lives for." Sakura flinched at the sudden change in tone Shirou underwent. He had been light and jovial when speaking earlier, even about his father. Now his tone was harsh and full of cold fury.
"What makes you sure that your name hasn't already reached the Mage's Association?" came a pompous voice from behind. Sakura could recognize it from anywhere, it had practically been burned into her brain at this point. It was none other than-
"Shinji," Shirou huffed, turning around. "What are you going on about?"
Sakura turned to face her brother as well. Sure enough, he was standing there, hands in his pockets looking as confident as ever. Instinctively, her face leered downwards. Whenever she looked him in the eye, he always seemed to get annoyed with her. When he got annoyed with her, the beatings started.
"I'm just saying that your name might have already been forwarded to the Mage's Association, or at least someone who works close to the Association." From where she was standing, Sakura could hear the crack of Shirou's knuckles as he clenched both hands into fists.
"Zouken and the old man had an agreement."
"They did," he began, closing his eyes and reciting a memory. "Neither one can meddle in the other's affairs." His eyes opened and a grim smile split across his disgusting face. "Providing me with connections so that I can squeal on you myself doesn't break any part of the agreement. You should never have made an enemy of me, Emiya." In casual Shinji fashion, he ran one hand through his hair and held up one finger in front of his face as if it were some kind of taunt.
"You better not ha-"
"But I already have. Thankfully for you, the Clock Tower isn't very trusting of strange magi. They're sending an enforcer to verify my claim." The smile on her brother's face grew wider with each passing second. Lifting her eyes for a moment, she caught the tensing of every muscle in Shirou's body.
Then he stopped suddenly and reached into his coat pocket. He withdrew something silver that was vibrating viciously. Flipping the device open, he set it to his ear. Even though Sakura was standing beside him, she could only make out the incoming words due to her being well-trained in the art of eavesdropping.
"We've got problems," came a slightly crackling voice from the other end. Sakura had heard of these devices before. Cell phones, electronics that could be used to communicate with anyone in the world. They weren't very common and they were pretty expensive. This had been the first time she had ever seen Shirou use it.
"Are we walking with death?" Shirou spoke in a strange code, glowering at Shinji who had maintained a malicious smile the entire time.
"It seems so. Get back as soon as you can, we'll need to start planning."
Without any goodbyes, Shirou snapped the device closed and replaced it in his pocket. "You weren't lying." His voice was cold and empty, a tone she had heard only once just a few days ago when Shinji was about to insult Illya.
"I've always been known as an honest man. When I said you and I were enemies I meant it."
"Aren't enemies supposed to fight?" Both Sakura and Shinji made a noise of surprise. Was he suggesting they try to kill each other right now? She didn't want either of them fighting or getting hurt. She loved Shirou of course but Shinji was her brother, she had to defend both of them. Sakura opened her mouth to try settling the two but Shirou was too quick to the punch again. "I don't agree with how Illya treated you that day. It was rude of her to speak about you like that but it gave you no right to do this." Shinji's smile had actually faltered a little. Whether it was because he didn't fully realize what he was doing by contacting the Association or if it was the look on Shirou's face couldn't be determined.
"Of course I knew what I was doing. From what I hear, your sister isn't even related to you. She's a kidnapped child from one of the other magi families. I figured that whoever her real family is would like to know where she was nowadays so they could teach her some manners and respect," he snorted. Sakura had been looking at Shirou, but a sudden thwack from the direction of her brother shifted her attention.
Shinji was laid out face down on the sidewalk, knocked unconscious in a single punch. The one who had thrown it was none other than Rin. Rubbing the knuckles of the hand she hit him with, she looked up to Shirou. "Sorry, hearing him talk like that was driving me crazy."
Shirou made a noise, then slowly eased the tension from his body. "It's fine, I got what I needed out of him anyway." Both Rin and Shirou turned to glance at Sakura, who stiffened in response. She could see the thoughts behind their eyes. Both of them wanted to kill Shinji or at least punish him in some way. At the same time, they both understood that Sakura wouldn't allow it. Or that she would be hurt because of it. She was far too forgiving of her evil, abusive brother. "Just leave him here, I don't really care if he wakes up or not."
Rin smirked and placed one hand on her hip. "I hit him pretty hard, he'll be out for a while." Anger flickered within Sakura for the briefest of moments. It might have been irrational, that she had looked too deep into the meaning of her actions but Sakura could have sworn that Rin was asserting her dominance just then. Showing Shirou that she could defend herself and stand up on his behalf, unlike Sakura.
"It's good that you're here anyway." The anger returned in full force, blooming at the tone in Shirou's voice. He was glad she was here? "We need to prepare. You won't be doing any fighting but you'll have to feign ignorance and stay as far away from us as possible." Rin nodded, stepping over the limp form of Shinji to get a little closer.
"If Shinji got upset with you three days ago, he likely stewed over it for one, tried planning for another then asked Zouken today on the third. Enforcer mobilization takes about a day itself, so we won't have much time if they decide to go full-frontal. Unless the enforcer is smart and decides to watch us for a few days to verify the information. In that case, it could take anywhere from a couple days to weeks." Rin moved the hand from her hip to sit over her lips. Casting her head off to the side, she pulled off the classic Tohsaka thinking pose she was well known for.
"Illya is going to have to lay low. If the Einzberns know she's in Fuyuki, they might try to take her ba-" He stiffened suddenly. Sakura caught the flash of panic in his eyes. She had only ever seen that emotion on his face whenever Illya was in trouble. Is that was he believed now? That she might be in trouble?
"Illya left when the shouting started," Sakura pointed out, calming him down slightly. Shirou reached into his coat, withdrew the cell phone again and called somebody. Waiting a few seconds, a cheery greeting, likely Illya, came from the other end. Sakura watched him let out a sigh of relief.
"Hey, just called to tell you to get home quick. I'll fill you in when I get there." He paused, listening to the other end. Since he had set the phone on his other ear this time, Sakura couldn't hear what Illya was saying. "Yeah, be there in ten minutes."
As Shirou closed and replaced the phone in his coat, Rin took a few more steps forward, rapidly approaching the point where Sakura would comment on her proximity. Rin always had a tendency to breach Shirou's personal space without considering how awkward that made him feel. "Let's get going then, it would be best to get organized as soon as we can."
Nodding, Shirou turned and strode off towards his house with a little extra purpose. Sakura moved to follow but was stopped as something caught her hand. Sliding closer, Rin whispered in her ear. "I know it's not the best time, but we need to have a little sisterly chat about Shirou."