He was never broken. In nearly every timeline, along nearly every path, he was always distorted, but never broken.
In so many worlds, this distortion was focused on a single point. So long as he existed, his existence would call for that beautiful, ever-distant thing.
Emiya Shirou wished to be a hero.
"When I was a child, I wanted to be a superhero."
To Emiya Shirou, his father had already been a hero.
"It's impossible since you're an adult, but it should be all right for me. Let me take on your dream – I'll make your dream come true."
His words had been said in such a childish tone that Kiritsugu had wanted to laugh. In nearly every timeline, along nearly every path, he had laughed.
"…No, Shirou."
Nearly every path.
He smiled; it was a soft, pitiful thing, as he looked up at the winter night's moon.
"To be a hero… Is the worst kind of Hell."
"…Ah?"
To Emiya Shirou, those words made no sense.
His father was a hero.
His father had saved him.
A hero saves people.
That smile…
How could anything that could make a man smile like that be bad?
These were Shirou's thoughts as Kiritsugu spoke.
"My dream… Was a mistake. You have to find your own dream, and live for that. Don't become the hero I tried and failed to be, Shirou… Be the man you want to be. Live your own life."
Kiritsugu closed his eyes, then, his voice becoming faint.
"Promise me, Shirou…Promise me, that you'll find your own dream, and live by your own ideals…"
Shirou did not understand. He couldn't understand.
But in the end, Kiritsugu was the one who said it.
If he had said it…
Then it must be true.
"…Alright, father. I promise."
Hearing those words, Kiritsugu smiled softly one more time.
"I'm… Relieved…"
With those words spoken, all was silent.
That was the beginning.
That was how Emiya Shirou was denied the dream of becoming a hero.
The sound of flesh on flesh resounded, a wet thunk following a second later. The sound of breaking cartilage, and a shout.
She stood there, surprised.
"…Why did you help me?" she asked, confused.
The girl with empty eyes looked at him, and then at the three boys who had been harassing her.
The boy with hair like fire straightened up as the other three ran, one of them clutching a bleeding nose.
Some things change, but others… Can't.
He did not save her because it was what heroes did.
He saved her…
…Why?
Even he was not sure.
So he just shrugged, wiping away the blood from his hand onto his shirt.
He asked her,
"Was I not supposed to?"
She had no answer.
Neither of them understood his actions that day, but that didn't bother either of them.
Matou Sakura watched as that boy walked away, his controlled stride reminding her of something that she'd thought she'd thrown away.
At the same time, in the heart of Emiya Shirou, the same feeling grew.
Even if he didn't know why he did it…
Could this lead to finding it…?
Matou Sakura felt hope grow within her, seeing the back of that firey knight.
Emiya Shirou felt hope grow within him, because he might be one step closer to finding the dream his father wanted for him.
Emiya Shirou was good at a great deal of things.
Cooking.
Archery.
Soccer.
Basketball.
Track.
Even his thaumaturgy was at least passable when it came to the Basic Three.
He was not good when it came to talking with women, though.
All he knew was that the girl in front of him had dropped something after class yesterday. He returned it, just like Taiga had taught him to do. He didn't even ask questions about it, like why the small jewel was filled with prana.
"It's bad manners to ask a lady about personal matters like that!"
He still wasn't sure what the 'that' was, but he preferred to be cautious.
Now, though, he was confused as to why he would want a reward, or why she would be surprised that he didn't.
He had just shrugged, slowly etching the following thought into his mind.
People ordinarily demand compensation for actions that are beneficial to others. This is the basic of economics and, without it, the world would fall apart.
Those were the words of Tohsaka Rin, middle-school student.
Thus, if someone did something nice for him, he should repay them.
He thought about it, but didn't understand completely.
That would not do. Not at all.
The local librarian was slightly confused at why a twelve-year-old was borrowing so many economics textbooks, but he always returned them in good condition, so she never questioned it.
After that, Rin found herself confused as well, given that the boy she had lectured seemed to routinely come back with more and more questions.
This pattern continued for some time, before Rin finally learned the reason for it all.
She and Shirou were in their first year of high school when she told him that he was distorted, but she would help him anyway.
Emiya Shirou continued to search for his dream, seeking to understand everything he could in the hopes of finding it.
In their second year of high school, Rin Tohsaka learns of Emiya Shirou's thaumaturgy and beats the stupidity out of him with words. And, at one point, a stick.
January of their second year begins, and Sakura Matou still admires her knight from afar, even as her hand begins to ache from the call. She still doesn't understand him any more than he does, but the thoughts remain in the back of her mind.
His determination is what drives her to stand tall, even under the weight of what the Matou had done to her.
It was like that when the call came to them all.
Rin had expected it to come to her and was unsurprised when Shirou came to her with his own. The Grail gives it to those who seek what it can give, after all.
"The Grail can grant your wish. It can finally show you your dream, Emiya. But I have a wish of my own, and I will not yield to you. I will claim the Grail in the name of the Tohsaka family."
He simply shrugged.
They were enemies. He understood that much.
"Then I'll just fight everyone else first."
He turned and left.
She had done so very much to help him.
She had taught him to repay those who helped you, even if they didn't seek compensation.
He summoned his Servant that night, his mind as empty as his heart.
Emiya Shirou was without a dream, but he was not without a Servant.
In a countless number of worlds, that powerful relic within his chest would call her to him. The sheathe would call for the sword, and she would return.
But we know better by now.
This is not one of those worlds.
"Tell me, Lancer… What is your dream? Why do you seek the Grail?"
When Saber fought against the man in blue, Shirou couldn't help but ask.
"Eh? For the thrill of the fight, of course! A battle with the greatest heroes of all time, gathered together… Is there anything more exhilarating?"
Shirou was not satisfied.
"Why do you fight?"
Assassin smiled, looking at the child at the foot of the steps.
"I fight for the fight itself. I wish to test my worth, and prove it in battle against a truly great enemy."
Assassin found his test at the hands of Saber.
Shirou simply stood and watched, still not satisfied.
When Assassin fell, he fell with a gash through his chest and a smile on his face.
It wasn't so different from his father's smile on that day.
"…I see…"
Shirou began walking up the stairs, thinking.
To realize your dream… That is true happiness, then?
But it still wasn't enough.
"Caster… Why do you fight for the Grail? What is your dream?"
This was not the first time he'd asked her. She simply would not say.
However, when Souichirou attacked him and Saber struck back, he found the answer in her eyes.
His hand burned with his will, and the blade stopped millimeters from his throat.
Saber followed him dutifully, mirroring his actions even as Shirou bowed his head and apologized.
"Your dream is a beautiful one, Caster. I wish you the best of luck."
They left.
"A dream is not always solely something that comes from yourself," Shirou muttered, shaking his head. "The bond between two people may become something that gives way to a dream…?"
He felt like he had stumbled across an incredible revelation, but he still could not understand it.
He walked down the steps, still unsatisfied.
"…You are my sister, then? I'm surprised. Father never mentioned you."
He could not ask what Berserker's wish was, but learning his identity gave him an idea, a hint towards it.
Saber could not defeat Berserker alone. Shirou realized this.
That's fine.
Saber was never alone, after all.
But even with the help of those who once served under that flag, it was still a losing battle.
The world shook and shuddered under the weight of Berserker's every blow, but Shirou saw something else, something more than strength from within his hands.
With eyes that weren't his own, skills that came from a whisper of a dream, and a blade that once belonged to a man who could no longer call on it, Shirou cut the titan.
He did not flinch from the bones breaking from the force of his own swings, both his own and those of the lead titan.
He did not flinch when the spray of hot blood hit him from the god-child's femoral and carotid arteries.
He did not flinch when the crash of Heracles's body shook the ground beneath him, nor did he pause and think when words, the name of a skill that had only been used by the demigod before him, slipped from his lips.
The old wood club, once held at the hip of Heracles before he lost his family, should never have been able to cut, and yet it had.
A skill like that…
Shirou's body begged and screamed for rest. It needed to stop, to heal from the impossible deed.
He ignored it and looked inward. He looked into the club, and he understood.
Another dream, broken.
He had failed to protect yet another child.
The club faded, and with eyes once again his own, he saw his sister again.
She was afraid.
That's okay. He gave her a reason to be scared, after all.
But he wouldn't hurt her, because…
…Because it was wrong. Because no matter what, hurting others could never be right.
"Let's go, Saber."
He had learned something else, tonight. He didn't understand, but he knew.
He was a step closer to his dream.
When they met again, Shirou did not ask.
Lancer spoke, but he did not listen.
He and Saber fought and fought and fought, until that spear's name pierced the heavens and the heart.
But causality is such a fickle thing, and when both blade and spear break it at once, something very odd happens.
Her heart had already been pierced, but Saber's attack would break through.
Had Saber's Luck been high enough, the injury could have been avoided altogether.
Instead, Saber's blade cut through Lancer's body with three thrusts, and the spear was not blocked, but merely deflected by a small margin.
Saber was not yet dead, though.
And that was what mattered.
The burn once again returned to his hand, and he gave the order.
"Saber. Heal that wound."
As Lancer and Gae Bolg both faded away, the hole left by that cursed lance was sealed.
Saber rose, using that bloody blade as a crutch.
He had only one left, and it was all that bound them together. If this were used, Saber would fade away, and another dream would die.
"Are you okay?"
"…Yes, Master."
He just nodded, but his eyes lingered on the sealing wound for longer than he meant.
Lancer gave him no answer worth hearing even through his actions.
"That's enough for tonight."
"Of course, Master."
The night was a long one, Master and Servant talking through it when neither of them could find no solace in sleep.
Yet, even then, he still was not satisfied.
"…A knight? Is that what you saw me as, this whole time…?"
Sakura nodded once, even as she raised her arm.
Rider moved with grace and beauty, but it wasn't enough.
Even her agility wasn't enough to match that speed.
Wounds opened, and blood spilled.
Rider retreated, injured badly in that fraction of a moment, fighting silently.
Fighting for her.
She opened her mouth to call out a name, to unleash the most powerful of her attacks.
Blood spilled from her open mouth as Saber moved through the distance between them almost instantly, and that blade sunk deep into her throat.
He had won. He knew that with this, he was one step closer to his dream.
…So why, when he looked into Sakura's eyes, did he feel weak?
That light was gone, now, and he couldn't understand it.
That night ended with few words on the part of the Master, even as the Servant continued to speak, to try and draw a smile from him.
That man in gold fought for what was his by right. His dream was not something that Shirou could understand, and his will to fight was incredible. Without a doubt, not even Saber's speed could have stopped that man.
In the end, it was the red archer that won that battle.
The Archer that struck at him only moments after the battle.
Even more blood spilled quickly across that field.
Blood from what used to be a hand, caught in that spiral arrow's wake.
Blood from the stomach of an injured soldier that shoved her Master out of the way.
Blood spilt from Archer's chest as three final thrusts pierced him through his heart.
In the end, she didn't look at him with blame or condemnation, even as she stumbled back and fell, his eyes widening as he finally realized.
"Tell me, Saber… What is your dream?"
"…Why…?" Shirou whispered softly, Saber slowly walking towards him, even as her body began to dissolve.
His dream was just around the corner. The Grail was within his grasp.
He could finally find it.
He could finally fulfill the promise he made five years ago, under that full winter moon.
In so many worlds, across so many times, Emiya Shirou had a dream.
Even if that dream betrayed him, tore him apart, and left him as a shell, he at least had that dream to love and, with time, even loathe.
As Saber reached him, he came to that realization.
"I want to fight to the bitter end."
There was a way to save her.
He needed to save her.
"Master… Have you ever stopped and looked at how beautiful the world can be?"
They had fought at each other's side for a week, but that's not all they'd done.
When scouting, her eyes saw things that he missed.
Flowers in bloom, children laughing and playing, even the way that the soft breeze pushed the leaves could inspire awe in her eyes.
"Master, you haven't spoken since we returned. Are you okay?"
He wanted to see the world through her eyes, to see everything the way she did.
"…Ah? You don't have a dream of your own? Then I'll help you."
But more than anything…
"Come on, Shirou!"
"Ah! A horse tornado! …It's called a carousel?"
"You still don't get it, huh…? …Well, if I told you, it would ruin its beauty."
Finally, Saber half-sat, half-collapsed at his side, smiling widely.
"Thank you… It was really, really fun…"
He couldn't move, even as she fell.
That girl, who thought she had failed her people, finally died fighting.
Her dream had finally been realized.
But Shirou's…
He could see, now.
As her body fell apart into energy and tears began to fall, his eyes were finally open.
Just in time to watch it all fade away.
Once again, Emiya Shirou was denied a dream. Not the dream of being a hero of justice, but the dream he hadn't realized that he'd had.
"Emiya…"
All the Servants had fallen.
Seven spirits had merged together, and from high above, they could see it.
The Grail was forming, here at the Ryuudou Temple.
It was here…
And yet, he was still not satisfied.
When the Grail descended, it had been rejected.
But without a Servant's power, how could they destroy it?
In the end, it would take a hero to destroy it.
And in the end, Emiya Shirou had been denied that dream.
And yet, he rose.
In his dreams, the dreams of the man called EMIYA, he had seen it.
He had seen the thing that hovered above the Grail, invisible to any eyes but his.
It made him the same offer as it had offered EMIYA, and there was no hesitation.
An image appeared in his head; a sight from one world from an infinite number of worlds.
A world where Emiya Shirou had become a hero.
A world where Emiya Shirou had summoned her from her death at Camlann.
A world where Emiya Shirou had dreamed endlessly of swords.
In his hands, he felt it surge.
He felt the power of that Last Phantasm, of his entire life-force collecting into that blade, empowered by Gaia itself.
He did not say that blade's name with reverence. He only said it from necessity.
He did not want to be a hero.
But more than anything else, he would not let her die for this.
The Grail was shattered with a word, and nothing remained of it.
The sky had been cut with it, and the world had been shaken. Little remained of the Ryuudou Temple, or of Kotomine Kirei who had been within, waiting for the Grail to spill out.
Even the tunnels below had been destroyed, and that which had housed that thing that corrupted the Grail was destroyed.
There was no longer any trace of the corruption, of Angra Mainyu, but in exchange, there was no trace of him, either.
His last thoughts before his servitude began were of her.
His dream.
His love.
A/N: It's 4 AM and I should stop writing one-shots at unholy hours, but I'm totally gonna keep doing it anyway. Also, after writing "A horse tornado! ...It's called a carousel?", I want to read fun slice-of-life romance between Denied!Shirou and Okita, but in order read that, I'd need to write it.
Still, I hope you guys liked this. I think I got the concept from a challenge that I read a few years ago...?