Shirou was just walking home from school when it happened.
He was just a normal boy living in a normal suburb with his extremely normal adoptive parents. They were awfully nice. Shirou knew he'd been the sole survivor of the explosion of Fuyuki and several families had offered to take him, but this one had been chosen. Now he had two older sisters, one away in Tokyo and the other about to graduate. He also had a little brother, born just last year. Not expected but a really great surprise.
Shirou didn't expect any trouble. Yes, Fuyuki had a bit of a gang problem but this was the nice part of town and anyway, he went to the dojo regularly. And even if he HAD been expecting trouble, the voice in his ear would have caught him completely off guard anyway. Because there was no one there.
"Emiya." Huh?! Shirou started violently then turned his head, eyes wide. He caught the briefest glimpse of white hair and tanned skin before a knife went into his side.
"…?!" Shirou swayed on his feet, caught between disbelief and shock. There was a man beside him. He hadn't been there before. He was wearing a – a costume, like something from his sister's manga books. Or maybe an Avengers movie. Then the blade was being roughly extracted from his body and Shirou stared, lips parting in amazement as he saw the gush of blood from the wound. "…!" Stumbling back, he tried to staunch it with his hand but that was… futile…
"That's not my… name…" Shirou forced the words out even as his vision began to darken. The man across from him looked mildly surprised. "I'm Okubo… Shirou…" Somehow, it seemed important that his murderer at least know his name. Then Shirou was falling.
He didn't feel it when he landed.
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"…" Archer looked at the corpse at his feet, allowing his blades to dissolve into nothingness. It was still twitching, just a little, but as he watched the faint tremors stopped. Honey brown eyes were fixed and empty. "This was probably unnecessary then," Archer finally said before frowning to himself. "How did you survive the fire of Fuyuki?" What he'd said would imply Kiritsugu had not adopted him. "Or did you say no?" Archer murmured to himself. Was this a version of him who had decided to go into foster care instead? Then he shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Just another innocent casualty, lost for the greater good…" Although there was no good coming from this. Archer felt a kind of desolation as he gazed at the body. The fact that he was still present, after killing this Emiya… Okubo Shirou, indicated it had indeed been futile. "I'm sorry," he said softly before turning away. What was done was done. Archer dematerialized to return to his Master.
If he had stayed a half-hour longer, Archer would have seen something very interesting. But who would do a thing like that?
"…" His chest hurt. He couldn't feel anything else.
"…." Now he could feel more. He was cold.
"…" Wet too. Wet and cold and what was he doing?
"…" His fingers, he could feel them. And his eyes. Blinking, the world came back. It wavered crazily at first, like a defective TV screen, but then it came back. He was lying on the ground, cold and wet and it was late at night. What had been happening…?
Then everything came back. Walking home, after a good time playing checkers with Shinji. Sakura had made them scones, they had been delicious. Shirou had been alone, he knew he had, but a man had come out of nowhere and stabbed him! Suddenly shocked, he scrambled to his feet, wavering a bit.
"Holy shit," Shirou breathed as he looked at the massive pool of blood on the ground. That was why he was cold and wet. It had soaked into his clothes. "I… I…" He felt find though. How could he feel fine? His coat had a hole in it, a wide hole from the weapon that had taken his… his life. "I have to go home," Shirou mumbled. He needed to get out of here. He started walking but soon he was running. As he ran, Shirou prayed he'd be able to get to his room without alerting his parents and siblings.
There was no way he could explain the blood on his clothes.