Two people sat out on the porch of the Japanese traditional home. One, a man, leaning against the pillar as he took heavy breaths. The other, a child, a foot away from the man.

Both were staring at the stars.

"You know…" The man spoke up. "I had always wanted to be a hero."

The kid, a dead look in his eyes, a gave a sideways glance to the dying man. Rolling his eyes, he decided to entertain himself by continuing the conversation.

"Had?" The child said. "What happened? You don't want to be one anymore?"

The child still asked even if he knew the answer.

"Yes." The man spoke somberly. "It was a foolish dream. I realized that to want to be a hero is the same to want to put people in danger in order to save them. And then what? In order to save the many, I had to kill the few. I had just wanted to make everyone happy. To not suffer…"

The man trailed off as the boy gave him a deadpan look. With a sigh, the boy gave his two cents.

"Yeah, that does sound pretty stupid. I mean, from what you're saying, you didn't even act like a hero."

"Wha…" Shocked, the man stared flabbergasted at the boy.

"Kill 10 to save 100. Kill 100 to save 1,000. What kind of bullshit hero logic is that?"

"But, you don't understand." The man tried to say. "You can't save everyone. For someone to have happiness is to take it from another."

"Hmm." The boy hummed in thought." Here's a thought. Perhaps a hero should focus on making people smile instead of saving their physical lives. You took out the bad guys? Good, but what about after that? Are the people you 'saved' truly saved? Congratulations, you just got rid of one of the many problems they suffer, and at what expense? Your happiness?"

"Shiro," The man mentioned the name of the boy. "What are you saying? That I shouldn't have tried to save them?"

Shiro gave a curt laugh, not one belonging to someone his age.

"Save? All you did was try and make yourself feel better. No, a true hero focuses on the smile of the person. Only when the smile is satisfactory, then the person is saved. Tell me, Kiritsugu, did you ever see someone smile due to your actions?"

Kiritsugu eyes widen a margin. When was the last time someone smiled because he had 'saved' them? Irisviel? Illyasviel? Maiya? Even Shiro? Did any of them smile when he was proclaiming himself as a hero?

"No." Shiro, as if reading his mind, spoke. "They smiled when you were not acting like a self-sacrificing hero, but when you were acting like a husband, father, and friend. You see, old man, not all heroes wear capes…"

Shiro trailed off as got up and started walking away.

"Either way, I have no clue as to why you would have thrown away Irisviel for a golden cup. She was a bombshell of a wife."

Kiritsugu shot up at that comment. How did Shiro know of Iri?! However, before he could say anything, his vision slipped and he stumbled, falling to the floor.

Shiro, hearing the commotion turned back. Staring at his now dead father brought no emotion to his face. Perhaps it would have caused a few tears, but…

Would you cry if you saw the same damn scene over and over again?

Shiro had forgotten how many times he has seen his father die. A few times he had tried to save him from the fate of the curse that embodied him. But after so many times of just doing it, Shiro grew hopeless.

No matter what he did, Kiritsugu was bound to die. Whether of old age or a curse, it didn't matter.

People die when they are dead.

Or killed.

Whatever, he had already forgotten how his bullshit lines had went.

Walking to the kitchen, he decided that he really didn't want to go through puberty. Especially as a child. Sitting on the table, he projected a nameless weapon. A dagger that would soon serve its purpose.

Grasping it in two hands, he dragged it across his neck, slitting his throat.

He dropped the dagger as it began to disappear in little particles and awaited his fate. Blood dripping from his neck, he stared at the ceiling as his vision began to darken.

Sometimes a fleeting of hope encompasses him during these times. Maybe, just maybe this will be the last time. Fate will smile on him and grant him what he most desires.

Sweet relief.

No such luck.

Shiro came out of his daze looking stupidly at his surrounds.

He had expected this, but still held out hope. At this rate, it was the only thing he had.

"Mongrel, are you even paying attention?" A condescending voice spoke to him.

Shiro gave a sigh as he observed his surrounds. A concrete path that led to a building. It was Ryuudou temple, or at least what was left of it. Off in the distance, Shiro heard the sounds of what was most likely Saber fighting the Greater Grail. Upon the building stood the King of Heroes, Gilgamesh.

"Sorry, could you run that past me one more time." Shiro said as he tried to think of what timeline this was.

"Mongrel…" Gilgamesh seethed. "You dare say such words to your king?!"

"Ahh…" Shiro groaned. "Y'know what? Fuck it."

Shiro began his process of magic. Projection.

Trace on.

Two simple words. Two powerful-

Ah screw, you heard this type of shit before, right?

Shiro grasped the concept and began the projection. In his hands he now wielded two swords that held similar designs.

They were, in fact, the same sword.

"Tch," Gilgamesh expressed irritation at the site of such powers. "Using such imitations? That won't be enough to beat me."

Shiro, ignoring the man, lifted the swords up. Reversing the grip, he had them pointed downward, toward his feet.

"Oh," Shiro gave a deadpan look. "I think this will be plenty enough."

Shiro began filling the swords with mana. The swords, having mana course through them, began to overload. Cracks could be seen forming upon the swords as an aura emitted from them, almost engulfing the entire area with their bright light.

"No!" Gilgamesh said in utter shock. "You wouldn't! Are you insane?!"

"Perhaps I am!" Shiro yelled, then he began to chuckle. "No, I am insane!"

Thrusting the swords downward, he called out their true name.

"Ex-"

The swords contacted the ground.

"-Calibur!"

A bright light engulfed the vicinity of the city. It was so bright that even astronauts in space could see it from their crafts.

That light led to an incredible boom.

And Fuyuki City was wiped off the maps of Japan.

The red-headed boy gasped for breath as he kept running.

They were monsters!

That blue and, surprisingly handsome, red man!

Fighting with techniques and moves he couldn't even be able to comprehend.

And one of them heard him!

He was getting close, he knew it!

He just had to…

Had to…

The boy slowed down as an unfamiliar sensation rushed over him.

What did he have to do?

Why was he running?

Shiro thought on what was going on using the situation. He had just got back from nuking Fuyuki and now he was running in the school after hours.

When it was dark.

Wait… This premise and situation are oddly familiar…

Ah.

The boy snapped his fingers and pounded a fist in his open palm as he figured out what was happening.

Feeling the presence of a servant behind him, he turned around and caught the red spear aimed at his heart.

"Hey." Lancer gave the boy who just caught his spear a look of disbelief. "Can you do me a favor and decapitate me instead of piercing my heart?"

Lancer, mouth agape, continued to look dumbfounded at the boy.

"...What?"

"I mean, thinking logically, that servant's master seemed like a capable mage. She could heal my broken heart. Physically, I mean. Not like the broken heart of a spiritually broken person… or something."

Lancer had long since closed his mouth. Narrowing his eyes at the boy, all he could do was raise an eyebrow at the peculiar request.

"What?"

Yep, Lancer was broken.

"God damn it." Shiro swore. "Is every mutt stupid or are you just the exception?"

"Why you?!" Lancer immediately tugged the spear out of the hands of Shiro. Swinging it multiple times, he sliced the head from the body.

"Not a stupid dog…" Lancer gave off a low murmur before he went back into astral form and walked away from the head that rolled near his feet.

The girl with purple hair stood on a very high skyscraper. She could see all of Fuyuki City from this height. It was beautiful, but she took no noticed as she walked closer to the edge.

It was painful, her existence. Sold by her parents, she was forced to live a horrible life adopting the Matou custom of magecraft, as well as their circuits. By doing 'training' that consisted of being fucked by worms, being—metaphorically—fucked by her grandfather, and also—unfortunately not metaphorically—being fucked by her (adopted) brother.

It had broken her. Turning her into nothing but a doll. One that could be easy discarded.

What was worse was that even her sister, the one she grew up, didn't even acknowledge her as a relative or even a friend for that matter.

The pushing edge was when that blonde snobbish gentleman told her to practically kill herself. She didn't know how he knew of her predicament, perhaps he was a servant? But it didn't matter.

There was only one thing that could save her, one person.

Her senpai…

Who was currently behind her sitting in a lawn chair eating popcorn.

"Hey, Sakura." The girl looked back expectantly as the red-head called out to her.

"Do a backflip."

Sakura gave him one last hurtful gaze as she turned around and walked off the building.

Shiro gave a sigh as he looked at the sky. No matter what the situation was it appeared he was still bound not to feel any more emotions…

He suppose it was understandable. If you saw the same death of a person over and over again, would you shed tears over every single time they died?

There was a time when it pained him so to see the ones he loved for die, but at this rate, he had seen them die so many times that he had lost count.

With another sigh he stood up from the lawn chair he was sitting in. looking at his unfinished popcorn he decided to throw it away, no longer having an appetite for the snack.

Looking over the edge of the building he saw the red paste that was Sakaru.

"Damn it…" Shiro gave a groan, "It would have been so much cooler if she did a backflip."

Shrugging his shoulders he did what he always did when he was bored with the timeline. Kill himself and pray to RNGesus that he would get lucky with an interesting timeline.

Folding his arms, Shiro jumped off the edge that Sakura had just used for her own suicide. Crossing his legs as his hair and clothes whipped around because of air pressure, he thought about what he should do in his next life.

Conquer the world?

Try and be a hero?

A villain?

Nah, despite the many lives, he has never really gone out of his way to cause people harm. Being an insensitive asshole may have caused them harm, but it's not like he caused them physical harm…

Okay, maybe he had acted like a villain sometimes. But Shiro would rather categorize that as asshole.

A beautiful asshole.

As Shiro neared the ground, he realized he hadn't really decided on a course of action.

Eh, guess he'll do what he usually does.

Get a harem and have sex all day.