Disclaimer: Fate/Stay Night, Fate/Apocrypha, and Fate/Grand Order are properties of Type-Moon and the affiliated companies.

By the way, do you guys want Fou to appear in this? Either way is fine by me, so I'll let you decide in the comment!

Despite rumors of the city being unsafe being thrown around, tonight's work at Copenhagen Bar and Liquour Store was just as uneventful as ever. Shirou walked in and out of the storage at the back of the shop, taking out crates full of empty liquor bottles and bringing in new, freshly filled ones from the truck outside. Occasionally he would look out to the street, thinking that he might spot his missing friend Matou Shinji, but no such luck so far.

"...!"

He thought he saw some guy with curly hair - just like Shinji's - pass by the other side of the street, prompting him to stepped further in to the sidewalk to have a better look.

"Ah!"

A woman, unsuspecting of anything, nearly crashed into him. She would have fallen if not for Shirou quickly grabbing her hands and helping her steadying on her feet.

"I'm sorry! Are you all right, Miss?"

"It's all right, I was being careless, too," she said, her voice friendly.

It was at this moment that Shirou gave a good look at the woman, and-

Holy ...

He gulped as he realized that he was in what his more perverse classmates would call a 'lucky accident'. The woman was... hot. She was good-looking; her make-up and hairdo did really well to accentuate her matured, pretty face. Her dress would make Fuji-Nee scream scandalous - short green dress that revealed just enough of her cleavage and upper legs to make several parts of his body grew warm.

"Is there something wrong with me?" she asked as she smiled playfully.

"No! Nothing! You're perfect!"

Yelling so, he let go of her hands. God, had he just taken advantage of the situation there? Shame!

The woman only chuckled at his reaction. "Why, thank you!" she laughed mirthfully, rendering his mind even more out of wack. Any more of this and his cheeks might burst from so much blood pooling underneath.

"Uh, then, I, uh, need to get back to work..."

"Oh? You're working in Saturday night? Such a dilligent young man~"

Oh crap, his mouth was about to twist into a smile he just knew would look creepy. Calm down, Shirou. Easy. She was just praising you. Time to go back to work and forget about this meeting. Nothing to be excited about...

"T-Thank you. Well then, excuse me..."

"Wait, isn't your hand injured?"

Perhaps he should write this on paper: women always notice injured hands. Just this morning there were Sakura, Tohsaka, Fuji-Nee, later Mitsuzuri in the afternoon, then now his boss' daughter Neko-san and this lady here. He shouldn't share it with his classmates, though, or they might actually start harming their own hands. Funny thinking aside, the lady took his injured hand and began to fix the loosened makeshift bandage without being asked. Oh yeah, he got to wash the handkerchief and return it to Sakura for later...

Wait! The lady!

"Uh, Ma'am, it's fine, your hand may get dirty. It's already healed, anyway."

"My, aren't you quite the reserved one, ... mm?"

Shirou, not getting that the friendly woman was asking for his name, could only scratch the back of his head awkwardly and avert his eyes from her chest. That was why he missed the woman's narrowed eyes upon looking at the scar on the back of his hand. He only dare looking back when she was done and letting go of his hand.

"All done. Be careful with it, or you'll reopen the wound."

"Thank you, Miss."

"By the way, that's a real cute handkerchief. Your girlfriend's?"

"N-No! She's just a friend!"

"Oh~ so there is a girl~"

Would this lady kindly leave already? Getting flustered so much in one night couldn't be healthy for his... health!

"What kind of accident gives you such a fancy scar? Did you try to get a tattoo and screwed it up, somehow?"

Shirou thought she sounded a bit too curious, but decided to just not think of it too much. Perhaps she was feeling bad for teasing a boy she just met and wanted to change topic.

"Nah, nothing like that. I actually don't have a clue how this happened. The wound just kinda appeared."

"Hmm, that's strange. Maybe it's an omen? A sign that you're among the sinners..."

A cold shiver ran through Shirou's back. The nice lady suddenly looked like a sinister lady with the way her smile crooked, resembling those smirks worn by villainesses in crime movies. And as quickly as that uneasiness came, she was back to being nice and friendly adult woman he was a little aroused by.

"Oh, well, don't worry about it. It's been nice talking with you, but I don't want to interrupt your work. And I've got some boozes I need to purchase for the boys, so, ta-ta for now, lucky boy~"

He didn't say anything as she said her goodbye and walked away. For one thing, the whole encounter had left him unsure of what to think of her. The other thing, he was too busy being transfixed by the movement of her hips as she sashayed - yes, sashayed, not just simply walked - into the Coppenhagen Bar. She even gave a little wave as she opened the door.

"... what a night."

Shirou decided to have a little restroom break after that.

He had no way of knowing that inside the bar, the woman took a seat beside a curly-haired gentleman in black turtleneck shirt. The two proceeded to have a conversation.

"That boy at the side alley? I think he might be the seventh."

"Really? I feel nothing from him."

"Well, he has the command seals."

"I see. Do you want me to tail him?"

"No. You are essential to this side of the city. Get our pretty princess instead."

"She won't like it."

"Eh, she can file the complain to hers truly later."

"You really do have a death wish, woman."

"Don't we all?"

Later at around nine, as Shirou entered his living room and switched on the light, just about ready to do his regular before-bed-workouts, he witnessed the strangest thing this day could offer. To elaborate, from the morning until the night fell, the day had a strange feeling about it. Like something really big was looming just behind the horizon, ready to show up when he was least expecting it. Maybe that lady was right, the wound on his hand was an omen.

The ringing of chimes from below the floor had been going on ever since he entered his house and saw the stranger. For some reason, it alerted him: danger ahead.

"Your house has quite a well-made barrier, peasant. I expected it'd do more than just screaming at you, though. So, are you an amateur magus or what?"

"..."

The stranger was covered from head to toe in white plate armors. A visored helmet with two portruding horns hid his head. In his right hand, he held an enormous sword.

The sight of it was so surreal, Shirou could only gape and barely able to hear what the... knight have to say.

"Hey, do you even know what you've gotten yourself into? ... I guess not. Tch, I'll get that whore later for making me do this tasteless job..."

"W-What...? W-Who...?"

"Spare me the questions, man. This will end the same, either way. With you dead."

Shirou couldn't understand. He really couldn't. Why was the knight talking like he was about to be killed? For what?

"Yeah, that way is fine. Just stand still like that, so I can end your life quickly."

With the air of a student begrudgingly stand up to go back to class after lunchbreak ends, the knight lifted his sword and put up a stance. The tip of his greatsword pointed directly at Shirou's head.

"... you bastard..."

It dawned on the teen that he was about to be killed. Murdered. Executed. Whatever the problem was - and he truly didn't have the slightest idea - this stranger was ready and willing to take his life. He couldn't even imagine it, to kill other human being. He couldn't fathom what it takes, the burden to your conscience, to be able to do such a thing. Even so, he knew it couldn't be easy. It shouldn't be easy.

Yet, this... this bastard in front of him spoke of it like it wasn't a big deal at all. Like his life didn't even worth consideration.

In the mind filled with confusion and fear, another emotion surged.

Anger. And along with it, a desire to live.

Fate of Black and Crimson

- A Lion in the Wolf's Den -

Shirou ran. He rolled to the side, dove forward, ducked, and threw things over his back when his instinct told him to. It was miraculous that thus far, he only suffered several small cuts to his arms and back. Behind him, following his every step with steel plated boots, was the psychotic tin man. The greatsword was swung around with abandon, cutting and slicing anything in its path. The paper wall, the wooden floor, all the stuff that Shirou could reach and throw at the boogeyman.

Among those things he had thrown were kitchen knives, woks, pans, anything solid he could reach in the frantic moment. None of them could slow his attacker any.

"Who the fuck are you!?" he shouted after another cut was made to his left shoulder, forcing him to stumble forward in pain.

"Not giving up yet, you pathetic peasant!?"

In stark contrast to Shirou's struggles, the murder knight was utterly casual in the way he strut to chase after the boy. He was just playing with him, Shirou realized. Sooner or later he would get bored and decide to just finish what he started. And with blood steadily trickling out of his wounds, Shirou didn't think he could have the necessary time to escape this madness.

"Hah... haa..." and he was getting out of breath too. How far until the back exit? He couldn't exactly see where he was going when the large part of the house was dark.

"There's no escape! Help won't come!"

Shirou cussed under his breath. While he liked his late father's stately, traditional Japanese mansion, now Shirou wished there were more things that would make sounds when hit by sharp steel in the house. He could really use some noise to alert the neighbors.

"Damn... damn... damn... shit!"

A split second was the time he had between hearing the sound of the knight making a leap and the greatsword crushing the floor. He used it to throw himself to the side, through the paper wall and down over the tatami matted floor. He barrel rolled some more, knowing that the chase wasn't over-

"Gah!"

Something hard hit his back with enough force to send him skidding and going through another paper wall. He stopped painfully on the floor of the outer pathway, groaning as his brain registered the pain on his back. His head was dizzy, his limbs almost numb. He couldn't get up, not so soon after receiving that attack. So he crawled. He didn't care where to. All he knew was that he had to move.

"Your persistence is not fun anymore. This is getting boring, peasant. You bore me."

Hearing his executioner's footsteps closing in, Shirou tried to drag himself faster.

"If you'd just stop, I'll end it quickly," said the killer as though it was a merciful offer.

"No...!" he wheezed out an answer. "Not... today..."

"Oh, really?"

The knight's gauntleted hand took a hold of Shirou's right foot, stopping him from moving any further. He was only able to gasp dumbly as he realized he was being lifted off the floor and thrown away like a rag doll. When his back hit the glass window, it gave away and broke, sending him out to the open. It was a surreal moment where time seemed to slow to a crawl - he, sailing the air with countless splinters of glass, the knight standing silently in watching, like a mirrage in the darkness. The ceiling over his head gone in a flash, replaced by a night sky filled with clouds and moonlight.

"Guh!"

The spell was broken when his body hit the ground with painful thud, back first. Broken glasses were caught by and stabbed into his skin as he attempted to move away. He groaned in agony as he forced his body ro roll over. Most of the injuries were over his back, lying down would increase the damage.

"Hey, get up. It's in bad taste to kill a downed man."

"W-what...?"

The knight was already standing by his side, somehow, even though he hadn't heard any sound of his approach. Shirou craned his neck up to look. The armored killer was looking down on his fallen form, the greatsword rested over his shoulder.

"I'm saying, if you want to die like a man, this is your opportunity. Get up and face me and die with dignity."

"... You're not making any fucking sense..."

Nonetheless, Shirou pushed his body up with a grunt. The anger from getting ambushed and thrown around still burned strong, in spite of the pain all over his body and the fear that permeated his heart. Even so, when he went back to his feet and seeing eye to eye against the steel plated maniac, he realized there was no way he could fight this thing and live. For one, he was too injured. He was dizzy and nauseous.

The second factor was, call him crazy but, the foe before him was definitely not human. There was no way a person of such a stature - the tinhead was pretty short, now that he had a closer look - would be able to move in that armor, wielding that big sword, and possess enough strength to fling him away with one hand.

"Just... who the fuck are you?"

This time Sir Psychotic was nice enough to answer: "Your death."

Shirou could have believed it, accepting the stupid quip as a fact, but he was too stubborn for that.

"No, I'm your failure."

No warning, no hesitation. He threw the handful of sand he had been holding right in the knight's face. Then he ran. He ignored his foe's angry curse and ran faster. The shed. His destination was his little workshop, where there were things he could use as weapons-

"Gah!"

A strong pressure was put over Shirou's injured shoulder, halting his steps and eliciting a pained scream from his mouth. Before he could react any further, the knight's other hand reached the upper hem of his pants, and unceremoniously lifted the teen's body over his head.

"Oh God..."

Shirou whimpered in horror as he was once again made to see the night sky above. At this position, he was utterly helpless. The knight could just drop him down, letting his back break against steeled boot. That, or he could be tossed and impaled by the sword, or if Baron Brute was feeling brutal enough, by the horns of his helmet. Either way, it'd be agonizing and slow death.

However, the knight was thinking differently.

"You're so keen to die in that shack over there, eh? Well, let me help you with that!"

This time there was no illusion of slow motion. Shirou was launched with such a strength that he barely managed to cover the back of his head with his elbows and curled his back before his body crashed against the door of the shed. The door, unlocked as it always was, forced open with a bang.

Shirou's body hit the cemented floor and rolled over several times before stopping after hitting a small cabinet. New wounds formed, his clothes torn, and his senses were numbed from the impact.

"Hah... ahh..."

Even his agonized moans sounded distant to his own ears. Everything hurt. Any action, no matter how small, was hard to make. Nothing felt real to his touch; the world spun and shifted in and out of focus, the ground swayed like it would collapse at any moment. At the very least, he had to lie down and rest, even if for just a bit.

He knew that, but, not even such a small respite was granted to him. The knight had already stood under the entrance, ready to claim his life for whatever reason.

"No more playing around, peasant. You've chosen to die like a fool, and in this dirty room, too. I'll grant you your wish."

"I... have... no death wish..."

He crawled, pushing his body against the cabinet to sit up. His shoulder and back and his whole body all sent jolts of pain at his movement. Pain was a warning, he had been taught, the mean for the body to tell you to stop and examine yourself.

However, he couldn't stop. He must not stop. Or else, the anger, the desire to survive currently burning under his chest, would disappear. It was the thin line separating desperation from despair, and once it was lost, there was nothing left but to accept the fact that tonight, he'd be killed.

"Not yet... not yet..."

There got to be something he could do, anything he could use to save himself. His hands groped about, trying to grab onto something-

"This is it. Good bye."

"H-Huh..?"

As he was stumbling about, Shirou didn't realize that the knight had closed in. He was now within that greatsword's reach; he was free to be stabbed, cut, or split in half.

He was at a dead end.

"No..."

The knight raised his sword up high.

"...!"

Eyes closed out of instinct, Shirou screamed right as the sword slashed down. All of his anger and desperation burst out with that scream, his last act as a living man.

"Tch!"

Nothing happened. Not to him, at least. He heard sounds of footsteps coming and retreating and the sound of something moving in the air. And then silence.

Emiya Shirou was still alive.

Confused and hesitant, he opened his eyes.

The sight that greeted him had his mind gone blank in that instance. A girl he didn't recognize was standing between him and the open door, holding a medium-length katana.

"This humble Assassin has come in answer of your summon," said the girl.

Who was she? When and where did she come from? Where was the knight who tried to kill him? A more analytical part of Shirou's mind demanded answers, but the rest of it couldn't even begin to care. Taking in the sight in front of him was the foremost priority.

Under the moonlight, her appearance was ethereal. The green-blue haori, the black shawl. A youthful beauty dressed like a swordsman from long forgotten era. The sword in her hand gleamed brilliantly, substracting nothing of her mesmerizing figure.

"Are you my Master?" she asked.

"... Huh? Master...?"

Like nearly everything else that had happened to him today, Shirou couldn't make any sense of her question. He stared ahead dumbly; towards her, to the moonlit sky behind her, and found that his mind only drew blank.

"May I check on your condition?"

The girl went to crouching position in front of him, her eyes lowered in what he absently thought was a sign of respect.

"Uh... okay...?"

"Pardon me."

She reached his left hand and undid the cloth covering it. Shirou felt a hot, shearing pain on the wound, which was glowing red. Red tattoos forming an abstract but oddly symmetrical patterns. He blinked. What the hell?

"This confirms it. I am your Servant."

"Servant...?"

The girl frowned for a moment before she put his hand to his chest.

"I guess the Grail chose you without your knowledge. I'm sorry, Master. I'd like to inform you of everything that you doubtlessly want an explanation of, but we're short on time."

Saying so, she glanced out at the yard outside. Shirou, following her line of sight, immediately realized what she meant.

"Is he still here?"

She nodded. "He is. However, please do not worry. You shall be fine. I shall take care of the enemy Servant. You have a rest, Master."

"Wait, what do you mean? What... what are you gonna do? Guh-"

He tried to reach out to the girl, who was getting to her feet and about to turn around, but the pain on his back stopped him. She, in turn, lowered her upper body and cupped his face with her hands. Shirou felt his heart throbbing upon receiving her touch. He had made skin contact with girls before, but never like this. He couldn't help himself from flustering, but unable to broke away from her eyes, which were looking at him intently. It reminded him somewhat of Fuji-Nee in her younger days, and it allowed his frantic mind to settle down if only for a bit.

The girl said, "You are injured, Master. It will only aggravate your wounds if you move, so please stay here. Don't worry about me, I'll be back to you in a moment."

He didn't try stop her when she got up and headed out of the shed, leaving him alone. His hand reached to his cheek, where the girl had put her hands on. The warmth of her touch still lingered, reminding him that all this unbelievable events, these bizarre people he had encountered one after another, they were all real.

And he still absolutely have no idea of what he had gotten himself into.

"No... that's beside the point. What really matters is how we get out of this mess."

Shirou took a deep breath, regulating his heartbeats and the rushing of adrenaline. Keep calm, cool it. His back was injured pretty badly, his right arm couldn't be moved properly thanks to the slash wound on the shoulder, and his head still spinning. Right now, there was nothing more he could have wanted other than get his body treated and a good night's rest.

"..."

Outside, he heard loud clanging noises. Metal against metal. He gritted his jaw. The girl, completely unarmored, was fighting the knight - that was the only possible explanation for the noises.

"Got to help her..."

He couldn't possibly leave her to fight all by herself. The thought that she was risking her life to fend off his would-be-murderer was too sickening for his conscience to bear. Unforgivable.

Grunting and grimacing as he braved his aching body, Shirou forced himself to get to his feet. His stomach lurched the moment he tried to stand without support, but he pressed on. He went further in to the shed and looked around for weapons. There was a rusty iron pipe, a baseball bat, a wooden sword, and...

"This is..."

His hand hesitantly reached a thick wooden box. There was an old firearm sitting in it. A heavily customized, single shot handgun weighing around two kilos and ten big caliber bullets to go with it. He never knew who used to own the gun, and he doubted it belonged to his old man. Shirou had found it by chance about a year ago, hidden under the floor of the shed. Out of curiosity and admittedly a childish impulse to keep something awesome a personal secret, he had taken care of that gun, and learned how to use it. Of course, he had never actually shot anything with it.

The sounds of fighting from the yard continued, however, and Shirou briefly wondered if the bullet could pierce through plate armor.

Wait. What the fuck was he thinking?

"No! Nope!"

He quickly shook off the thought and went to grab the wooden sword instead. Shooting down anyone was not okay. Not at all. It was crazy for him to even think about it. It must be his fatigue and desperation overtaking his mind.

Shirou staggered over to the doorway, wooden sword in hand. He was thinking of overwhelming the knight two against one, inflicting several good hit to incapacitate, then after it was over, he'd call the police. There was no concrete tactic, he only knew he had a weapon now and that it would help evening the odds somehow.

As soon as he stepped out of his shed and saw the battle that was taking place in his backyard, all that resolution vanished without a trace.

It was out of this world, the battle. Too fast, too overwhelming to his senses and logic.

The girl in blue haori who had saved his life was a blur as she dashed in and out of the knight's range, rapidly striking and slashing at the armored foe with her katana. One moment she was slashing from the front, then in a blink of an eye she was behind the knight, striking for the head. That failed, she retreated several steps in a flash, then came in again from yet another angle. She gave her foe no chance to conterattack, nor any room to breath.

On the other hand, the knight was like a statue of metal that just wouldn't go down. Against the girl's overwhelming speed, he brought his heavy sword, his gauntlet, every part of his armor just in time to block the relentless attacks. Sparks flew as the curved blade kissed the plate of metal, but before he could make a counter attack or even have a good look at his opponent, another attack stroke from another position, forcing his other hand to move lest his head got pierced. Yet again, he slapped the blade away.

One was too quick to be human, the other was too tough to be human.

It was a battle out of fantasy, as every stroke made the air boom and ripple and every footstep made the ground explode into dust and dirt.

Emiya Shirou was rooted on the spot he was standing as his feet, his whole body, trembled in awe. It was like watching a thunderstorm from vantage point, a clash of nature that simply took you in whether you like it or not.

There was nothing he could do but watch.

It may look like she was furiously relentless from anyone watching the battle, but Assassin always measured his opponent's prowess and calculated her own moves as the fight raged on. Every time she left the knight's range of attack she took a quick breather before performing another shukuchi, skipping right into her opponent's blindspot, and performing a strike. Her count had reached twenty seven strikes. Twenty seven times her Kiyomitsu katana were repelled, either with the armor or the greatsword.

Sabers are the strongest Servants. Now I believe it.

She huffed. Not even a single cut had been made, and Assassin's stamina was nearing its limit. Several more shukuchi might even trigger her sickness, and it was definitely a very bad thing she had to avoid.

"Damn you...!" Saber growled. The difficulty to dish out good hit on her part must be just as vexing, if not more so.

Assassin retreated to have another quick break, this time taking three intakes of air. Saber took the moment to strike at her, but it was easily avoided. The greatsword blew a crater on the ground as she sidestepped out of its way. She threw a sideway slash toward Saber's temple, but it was blocked yet again with the back of her mailed fist. Had the strike been performed with more strength, the katana would have taken a damage - chipped blade, or broken handle.

As it was, Assassin immediately backpedaled the moment the metals touched, letting the blade slide safely away from any damaging impact, and leaving behind sparks and scratch. Saber's immediate counter slash only hit the air where her torso had been, then she retreated several steps further.

"Fight me properly, coward!" shouted Saber.

"But I am fighting," she replied simply, which only seemed to agitate Saber even more. Good. Let the rage blind you. Give me an opening.

From their exchanges so far, Assassin could assess that Saber was a swordfighter with natural talent and highly keen instinct, though hadn't had enough training and experience to utilize them fully. Her swings, while fast and powerful, were wild and wide. And that massive sword, as impressive as Saber was to be able to wield it like it was practical to do so, was not a weapon designed for battle. One must either be stupid or conceited to not pick a simpler, less decorated sword in favor of that fancy big slab of iron.

Yet, somehow, Saber was neither of those two. She was full of anger, but still calm enough to not let it interfere with her action; prideful, but not too overconfident. That armor, in addition to that uncanny intuition, gave her impregnable defense against her speed. Such a frustrating opponent.

"Don't you think I don't notice it, Assassin. You didn't try to break through my defense even once. The moment your blade meets my armor or sword, you pull away. If you really fancy yourself a swordsman, then act like one!"

Assassin wanted to roll her eyes. Saber certainly had such a convoluted way of thinking. Their swordsmanships were of fundamentally different styles, it should be obvious after trading blows for a while. Saber's was all about hacking and slashing and overpowering, while hers was about looking to finish the fight with one quick fatal blow and minimizing wasted efforts as much as possible. Simply put, there was no way Assassin would lock her sword against Saber's in a contest of strength - she would, without a doubt, lose.

While Assassin was not above enjoying a good fight, she much prefer a victorious one.

"I'm sorry, but it is what it is. This is not a contest of strength or skill. We're just two Servants trying to kill each other. Of course, if you're unsatisfied with me, you're more than welcome to leave."

"Oh, is that so? Heh, fine. If it's a real killing that you want, then I'll get real serious too!"

Declaring as such, magical energy burst out of Saber's body, creating crackles of blood red lightning in the air around her. If wind was a way of air to express their fear silently, then this time the air was screaming. Assassin narrowed her eyes as she renewed her stance. There was a tinge of heaviness creeping into her chest, and she recognized it as fear.

Of course, she thought. There was no shame in fearing this opponent. Never in her past life had Assassin fought an enemy with true mythical strength. In this case, fear was good. Fear made her alert.

"Let's go!" Saber roared. And she flashed forward.

Assassin darted backward to avoid the thunder beast lunging at her. Saber's sword missed her, and it carved a big crater on the ground where she had stood on. Red lightnings crackled to live, however, and Assassin had to retreated five more steps to avoided them. Watching her foe as she did so, Assassin clicked her tongue. Red lightnings had formed a barrier around Saber's body. She couldn't get close without getting herself hurt in the process.

"Do these sparks scare you, Assassin!?" mocked the armored knight as she put her sword above her right shoulder. Her standard arrogant pose, it seemed.

Assassin didn't reply to Saber's provocation. Instead, she used the small respite to have a quick once over at her surroundings. Her earlier manuver had pushed her back to about ten steps away from the small warehouse she had been summoned in. Her Master was standing by the door, looking just as the same as when she had found him: completely bewildered and confused.

"H-Hey! Are you all right!? That guy just shot you with lightning!"

Saber was not a guy, Assassin wanted to correct her Master, but there was more pressing matter at hand.

"Master! If you can move, you have to get out of here right now!"

"Get out-? But where? And what about you?"

"I have to stall her until you get to safety!"

"That's crazy!"

"Damn, she's coming..."

As Assassin said, Saber strutted towards the two with red sparks escorting her every move. Her mouth had formed a savage grin since the moment she saw that Assassin's Master was up and about.

"Yo, you're back on your feet, eh, peasant?"

Assassin's eyebrows rose. "Peasant?"

"That puny Master of yours, I mean."

"You are a girl!?" the puny peasant of a Master in question gawked in disbelief.

"Who the hell is a girl!? I'm gonna blast you!"

My chance...!

As Saber angrily waved her sword, Assassin used the momentary distraction to attack. Skipping ahead, she launched a downward straight thrust, seeking to pierce Saber's chest. It was not her most powerful attack, but it was the best one she could perform in the current situation and within such a short timing. After hitting Saber's armor for dozens of time, she was sure the blade would through. She put more strength behind the attack, the blade of Kiyomitsu a silver streak as it moved. Saber noticed her from the corner of her eyes, but it was too late.

Hirazuki was the name of the technique. A deceptively simple, quick move devised by Hijikata Toshizou. Belying the shape of a Japanese sword which was meant to slash in an arc, the thrust utilized force produced by the twisting of one's back and feet. A vicious cross punch performed with a sword.

"Gah...!"

Blood was drawn. Konjiki Kiyomitsu penetrated the armor and cut into flesh.

However, it was Assassin who had her eyes widened as her momentum was completely halted. The knight had twisted her body in the last moment, replacing the spot where the blade should land from chest to shoulder. Then, guided by the sensation, Saber caught it.

"Got you!"

Only instinct saved Assassin's life, as she immediately took off to the side with full speed. She left trail of dust behind her as she slid to a stop about seven steps away from her foe, who was now holding her katana by the blade.

"Now you're dead," said Saber before her eyes shifted to Assassin's Master. "You don't mind if I kill your Servant first, do you?"

Without waiting for his reply, Kiyomitsu was pulled and thrown away. Blood gushed out from Saber's right shoulder and left hand, but it didn't seem to bother her in the slightest. She let the blood trickle down over the blade of her greatsword, and, as though incited by the taste of it, the lightnings around Saber flashed redder and more intense.

"... This is bad."

The hair all over Assassin's body tingled from alert as the atmosphere was charged with energy, gradually turning the yard into a massive electric field. Sooner or later, there wouldn't be any spot left for her and her Master to escape.

"Die!"

Saber lunged with an overhead strike, the greatsword coming down alongside a blinding red lightning.

"Guh-!"

Assassin managed to avoid the devastating blow with a quick jump, but not the aftermath. Electric shock ran up her crossed arms which she used to protect her head, and the impact broke the ground she landed on. She caught herself from tripping just in time to see Saber launching an upward slash from below waist. The air cried with a crackle of electrical discharge as the sword cut it along with the tip of Assassin's sleeve.

Red lightning burned some part of her clothes, and the air itself stung her skin with numbing shocks and burning sensation, but Assassin pressed on with the gamble she had just come up with.

"What the-!"

Saber sounded surprised, and it was quite satisfying to hear. This time Assassin slipped into her right side instead of rushing away. The swordless swordswoman's hand caught the grip of the thunder knight's sword, while the other she used to strike the injured shoulder of its wielder. Saber reeled back from the sudden pain, inevitably leaving Assassin out of her line of sight. The samurai didn't let the chance go to waste and jumped forward with all of her might.

There was a muted crack when Assassin's head collided with Saber's nose.

Muted, because right at that moment, Saber's body exploded with a blaze of red.

"Gu-Aaaahh!"

A scream of agony escaped Assassin as she was flung away. A hot, numbing agony. It was as if every cells inside her body were spontaneously parched and evaporated. Her vision pitch black as her back hit and skidded against the ground.

That burst of electrified prana should be more than enough to kill any human without high level of magical protection and should be sufficient to incapacitate Servants with low ranked endurance and magic resistance such as Assassin.

"You bitch... how did you survive that!?" Saber said, holding her broken and bleeding nose. "And give me back my sword!"

The answer to the first question was something she'd rather not explain, while the second one was an easy no. Assassin rose carefully until she was sat on one knee. She gave a look at the great western sword she had snatched with her. She had clung to it since she caught Saber off guard earlier. It was heavy and too large for her hands. There was no way she could use it, but at least, now both Saber and her were unarmed.

"Shall we call this a draw?" she asked, fully expecting refusal.

"Hell no. Either I win or I die. That's how this fight is gonna end."

So she said, but Saber didn't seem as fit as when the fight started. Her breathing was ragged, and her posture no longer straight. The amount of prana she released earlier was enough to charge Assassin's strongest attack for ten times over or more. Forcing it out at once, no matter how strong she was, was bound to exhaust her stamina. Not to mention, her injured shoulder seemed to worsen as she seemed to struggle to move the arm.

"Damn that woman and her prana capacity..."

Frustration was evident from Saber's spiteful mutter, though there was nothing to suggest she'd given up anytime soon. Assassin sighed. She reached the hem of her haori to take it off. The blue coat of arms, the pride of her pack, was tattered and singed badly. The blessing of protection granted by the garment had all but vanished, devoured by Saber's prana burst. She let the coat dissipate into the air and leave her upper arms bare.

"Very well, then. Let's continue."

"All right...!"

As Saber raised her steely fists, Assassin sent a silent look at her Master. The boy was leaning against the doorframe of the warehouse, still working on understanding what was happening in front of him. Poor guy. She wished she could have a sit with him and explained everything he need to know. However, against Saber, she wasn't sure if she would even make it through the night. And if she perished in this very first battle, he too would die.

A fight she wasn't certain to win though she must.

"I'm sorry, Master. And we haven't even gotten to know each other yet..."

Assassin put up the palms of her hands in front of her chest in a standard judo stance. It was kind of silly now that she thought about it, being in a situation where she was about to engage in a hand-to-hand combat against a western knight far stronger that herself. How could she circumvent this massive disadvantage? Kiyomitsu was right by the wall of the yard, too far out of her reach. The moment she had her sword back, Saber would have recovered hers and shot her with lightning.

Couldn't this fight be a little less complicated affair?

"Guh!"

She coughed. A jolt from under her breast and a severe clenching pain rapidly rose up to the back of her throat.

Assassin couldn't help but chuckle at the taste of her own blood.

He should have known it. Or perhaps he already had, but didn't realize how much of a coward he actually was, and so he was frozen.

When the knight released that burst of lightning, no, even before that, he should have moved.

When the two combatants stood to start a fistfight, he should have done something to help his savior. Anything to even up the odds.

"Damn it... what the hell?"

Said savior, the samurai girl, was being pummeled. Her attempts to intercept the knight's blows were easily thwarted by the latter's brute force, while her own hits were ineffective. Shirou recognized judo moves when he saw them, but against the armored girl's brutal single-handed boxing style, it was like trying to brace typhoon with an umbrella. The metal gauntlet had landed several blows to the samurai girl's body. Nothing vital, but she was about to go down pretty soon.

The insane speed and flashy maneuvers they had both displayed earlier in the fight had all but disappear, so Shirou could see what was going on with his eyes. And yet, for the life of his, he couldn't find any opening to jump in to the fray. It was the mindset of a man who had lived his whole life in normalcy that gave him pause every time, and he couldn't hate himself more for it even if he tried.

The samurai girl managed to catch the knight's upper right arm when the latter's blow missed her torso. The two struggled in a lock. The less protected of the two tried to put down the one in heavy armor who did her best to turn it around.

Shirou tightened his grip around the wooden sword in his hand.

What he was seeing right now was two people trying to kill each other. More precisely, two inhumane young girls trying to beat each other to death. The baser side of his mind knew that the moment he stepped within the ring those two had unconsciously created during the heat of their match, he would be caught by stray blow and die.

But what about that girl? Wasn't she risking her life to let him live more? What was that she had said? That she was his... Servant?

Eventually, the contest of strength and endurance ended as expected. The knight managed to swivel around with a loud cry, and the girl, still clinging to her arm was slammed down hard on to the ground.

Blood was spluttered from her mouth and landed on the blonde's face.

"Aaaargh! Die! Just die already!" the knight roared.

Shirou's blood ran cold. The knight now tried to choke the girl. The girl, his Servant, was straining her hands to keep the steel claws from her neck.

Move!

"Die...! Die!"

His Servant had little strength left. The gauntleted hands were closing in, ready to crush her windpipe.

Move, damn it!

"Master...!" the girl cried. "Run...!"

For a split second, an image of inferno flashed behind Shirou's mind. Within the raging fire, people were crying for help.

And he had done nothing.

"AAAAAAHHHH!"

Emiya Shirou cried as he ran. He brought the wooden sword up and when he was near the two struggling warrior...

"Huh?"

... he broke the stick against the back of the blonde knight's head.

Right at that moment, as the shattering of wood interrupted the fight.

Time seemed to stop for the three of them.

Shirou was frozen in place, it dawned on him that he was completely, hilariously, screwed.

Saber widened her eyes at the light tap to the back of her head.

Assassin noticed that the pressure from the hands reaching down her neck had lessened.

And within that split second of silence, one of the three made the final, decisive move.

The broken piece of Shirou's wooden sword went over the air and entered Assassin's narrowed field of view.

Driven by intuition alone, the swordswoman snatched it and jammed it into Saber's left eye.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This chapter was a bitch to write, mainly because I just can't get satisfied with it. Especially the fight scenes. I've rewritten the whole darn thing for like three times (thanks, site maintenance) and even now, I'm not entirely sure. But hey, that's where you come in. Tell me if I did anything right and please, please be kind to point out what I've done wrong.

Anyway, here's the once-over for this chapter:

- Servants rarely, if not ever, get disarmed in canonical media. This brings up a question about their weapon/NP. If a Servant lose their weapon, can they get it back just by dematerializing it, then making it reappear in their hands? Even if the answer is yes, I choose to not make it that convenient in this, because that'd make designing a fight too troublesome.

- Maybe you've noticed that I've changed the character billing and replaced that clunky-ass summary with the current one. Okita Souji is the big draw to this story, I've come to realize. Hence, her role got expanded and now she's more important that Gudako was. Ain't that just DAISHOURI?

- I've decided to play fast and loose with Okita-san's skills and abilities, because I've never actually seen any other depiction of her other than in the fgo game and gudaguda works. References to the canon and history are a given, but don't expect me to perfectly match them in the story. Her personality, though, is one of the things I'm really trying to stay faithful with.

- Have you noticed the breadcrumbs, the clues, of how this Shirou is a different person than the canon? Namely, he is a hornier teenage boy here. But to be fair, canon Shirou didn't actually interact with friendly, sexually alluring adult women that much. Taiga is Taiga, Saber is eternally prepubescent, Caster is an evil creep, and Rider doesn't get along with him until after he's completely devoted to Sakura. So, meh.

- That woman in the beginning was... eh, I'll just let you guess this time. The first one to get it right can have one line of dialogue be said by any character of his/her choosing in a future update.

- Seriously, to Fou or not to Fou, that is the question.

See you next chapter!

- Lion in the Wolf's Den: The Aftermath -

It took one second for Saber to discern what had happened, and another second to feel the pain. By then she had screamed and bolted away from Assassin's downed form, her hand hovering around her right eye. A little touch to the wood stuck in her eye socket caused it to shift a little inside her head, and she screamed even louder at the sensation.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck you! Fuck you all to hell!"

The two people she was cursing were watching her every move with wary eyes. Shirou knelt by Assassin's side and helped her to sit. Once seated, though, the samurai Servant had a fit of coughs and spat out a glob of blood.

"Hah... ah..."

"A-Are you okay-?"

A stupid question, but Assassin nodded nonetheless. Dizzy, she leaned against her Master's chest and tried to regulate her breathing. She had to recover quickly, gathering enough strength to face Saber again. After all she had done to the knight class Servant, merely taking an eye didn't seem enough to get both her and her Master out of trouble yet.

Indeed, Saber was already getting to her feet. It was an arduous process for her to stand straight. Her right arm hung limply and her balance was off. No matter how you looked at it, she was in no condition to fight anymore. However, the second her remaining left eye find the cause of her injuries, she snarled like a beast. There was no stopping her from ripping Assassin and her Master to pieces, even if she had to die for it.

"Is she a monster or what...?" said Shirou. With his left arm, he pulled Assassin closer to his body while his right hand brought up his broken wooden sword in protective manner. He winced when that action sent a wave of sharp pain from his back and shoulder. It must have widened the wound.

"Master, give it to me, and help me up," said Assassin as she reached for her Master's hand. "I'll fend her off."

"No way. You just retched blood."

"You're just an injured, normal human. You don't have a chance against her, no matter how bad she looks right now."

"Both of you are going to die!"

Saber walked towards the two, wobbling about all the while. Assassin pushed her body up using her Master's uninjured shoulder for purchase. Shirou was stuck between being scared by Saber's advance and trying to stop Assassin from getting up.

The exhausting battle between the knight and the killer was about to come to an end.

Though not in the way either of them expected.

"...!"

"...!?"

The two Servants whipped their heads to the same direction, fully alerted by a rapidly closing presence of another of their kind. A black shadow appeared atop the roof, then jumped down to land right between the feuding Servants.

Assassin caught a pair of garnet-colored eyes under a black hood glancing between her and Saber, then as quick as it came, the black shadow rushed toward the armored knight. A long plaited hair trailed behind the newly arriving Servant, a snake slithering in the night air. Alongside the Servant was a tall scythe with massive blade, a venomous fang ready to bite the wounded lioness.

"Shit!"

Saber was forced to step back lest the blade of the scythe lop her head off. The wicked, curved blade drew a path in the air as it circled back around the black Servant's lithe body and came down on her like hammer. Saber evaded it to the right. The Servant had anticipated that, however. Using the pole of her weapon as a clutch, the Servant vaulted over to send a roundhouse kick right to her gut.

"Kuh-!"

Bare foot met armor, and Saber was sent flying before she landed on her back. The attack winded her and worsened the pain her wounds gave, but the Servant in black was merciless and not giving her any chance. The reaper flew down on her scythe first, about to claim her life with one swift stroke...

"...!"

... only to stab empty ground. Right before the blade hit, a flash of red light ate away the entirety of Saber's body.

One command seal had been used, Assassin deduced. Her Master and she were safe from the monster's menace.

"Now what...?" Shirou wondered aloud, completely lost by the sudden arrival of the new player.

The black Servant yanked her scythe off the ground, twirled it once, then held it right by her side. She stared at both Shirou and Assassin, causing the former to take a step back in alert though no sign of hostility could be detected by the latter.

"Who are you?" asked Assassin.

"I'm Lancer," the small Servant replied with child-like voice. No, Assassin corrected herself, she was a child.

"Why are you here?" Assassin asked again when Lancer didn't seem willing to elaborate more. The answer was astonishing enough to make Shirou and Assassin exchanged an equally confused look.

"My Master ordered me to protect Emiya-senpai from harm," Lancer said.

On the next "Fate of Black and Crimson"

- Chapter Three: Caught in the Eagle's Claw -