Shirou Emiya watched dazedly as the two shining stars partook in a dance of death.
The man in blue was a gale of wind. You didn't follow him with your eyes, thought Shirou; you just saw the after-images. His lancework was a beautiful thing to behold. Curtains of red rose and fell in a sinusoidal wave, probing the opponent's defenses with every single tilt, drawing an intricate rendition of the aurora as it waved wildy about.
Compared to the man in blue, the man in red was a joke. He constantly backpedaled as he fought, and anyone could tell from just looking that he was trying his hardest to stay alive, not win. His swords were flimsy and brittle; the red lance kept turning them into stardust and it became a cloud that settled around the two battling men, but Shirou could still see that
Archer was losing.
There was no doubt about it, Lancer was a far stronger fighter than he was and it took all of his focus just to make sure he could keep up with the blue man's moves as they fought.
Clang. Kanshou and Bakuya were broken.
Crack. Another pair, destroyed.
What was this Lancer, he thought to himself, who is this man whose power far outclasses the Servant I remember?
The man in blue broke away from the man in the red shroud, and for the first time since the battle began he spoke:
"Yare yare. So you're an Archer, huh?"
The eyes of the accused widened imperceptibly. "What makes you think that?" he asked with a deliberately bored tone.
"Ah, you know. My Master has a knack for figuring these things out, I guess. I ain't going to question it, but geez, you must be really something to be using swords as an Archer, huh…" Cu Chulainn's visage was shadowed as he lowered his head menacingly and growled. "Use your real weapon, Archer. You're so weak that my Master has given me permission to kill you."
The white-haired man in question only scoffed. "Master, don't listen to this idiot. I still have a few cards up my sleeve."
The girl behind him, who had been silently appraising her Servant the whole battle, shook her head. "I can't do that, Archer. It's clear to me that you don't have the skills you were bragging about before, so take out your bow or I'll be forced to use a Command Seal."
He did not.
"Makin' fun of me, huh…" muttered Lancer darkly. "That's fine. You can take that passive look straight to Hell with you."
Everything changed. The atmosphere, the tension, the pressure in the air—all multiplied.
He uttered the damning word as he sank into a stance. "Gae…"
But then, Shirou took in a breath, and in an instant all eyes were upon his hiding place.
He was dead. Shirou had been chased all the way to the school and was killed.
There was no starlight, no spark, no sign of the battle that the spearman had waged previously. While spouting some vaguely kind words, Lancer nonchalantly drove his spear into the boy, and left him in a pool of his own blood.
It would be more appropriate to say that he had died before he was killed. If he had not witnessed the battle between two killing machines pretending to be men, he would have lived. He may have even become a Hero of Justice when he got old.
But he was dead, or so he thought until
Rin Tohsaka used one of her father's most prized gems to revive a young man she didn't even know.
Well, that was a lie. She had always watched him from afar, from her lofty position as the school idol. This was the school janitor, the infamous Doormat of Homurahara. She didn't know why she was saving his life with her father's momento, but she had done it and he was alive.
"Let's go, Archer," she said airily to her Servant. "We have a lot to talk about when we get home tonight."
He grimaced. "Yes, Rin."
They left and
Shirou woke up. He felt nauseous and weak from his ordeal. Thoughts muddled, he found a mop and cleaned up the blood before trudging his way home. His heart hurt.
The man in blue had found him again. He cut through the makeshift weapon in Shirou's hands as though he were spreading butter on toast.
The next thing he knew, he flew through the air; the man had roundhouse kicked him. And after... it was all a blur.
The tool shed. The lance. The girl who appeared out of nowhere.
Shirou Emiya stares up at his savior, the girl with the wind at her back
Who asks him that fateful question.
"-I ask of you. Are you my Master?"