Situational Gravitas For A Soul

by MaskedEngineer

"People come and go, but magi are just fated to meet each other." The tale of a selfish man who, in his fervant denial of the odd destiny placed on his family, quickly becomes embroiled into the Fifth Holy Grail War as its first eighth Master. With unearthly forces at bay, could he overcome them and grow as a person...or succumb to his lust for power? (has X-Over elements)

1. The Name of Brown

A/N: Greetings, this is MaskedEngineer here.

I wanted to be perfectly honest with you all, this is my first fanfic centered around the Fate franchise, specifically Fate stay/night. I have actually known the franchise for quite some time now, but this is the first time I actually got to sit down and write a story about it. I would consider this an AU of sorts, with a mixture of all three routes from stay/night with some original plot and crossover elements sprinkled on top.

Also, I will apologize first for any inconsistencies to canonical characters that I may have made during the production of these chapters. I don't consider myself the most knowledgeable person about Fate, but I will try with same convictions as one.

But that's enough from me. Without further ado, please enjoy the story.

-0-

Chapter 1: The Name of Brown

The year of 1986 was, for lack of a better word, uneventful. The hot, calm winds blew in small, intermittent gusts against the identically shaped houses that made up a majority of a medium-sized town, located near the outbacks of Australia.

Amongst the simple one-story bungalows and taller, more architecturally intricate cape cod houses lies a single settlement that appears to be catching the eye of most passerbys. At first glance, it seems like yet another peach colored bungalow, typically bought by the senior population of the town.

But upon closer inspection, one could clearly spot out the little oddities that composes the decor of the place. Several writings in a runic language in little pieces of rolled-up paper can be seen hanging all over the front porch, there were far too many chimneys on the rooftop to the point of wasting brick and mortar and the garden is littered with strange ornamental items, such as a plastic flamingo painted in blue, of all colors, and was given its own snazzy top hat and tie, as well as a comically oversized gnome that is the size of a grown man. No one knew why the gnome was so big, save for taking up unnecessary space in the grass.

The interior of the house, which would usually be visible through the spiral-shaped windows, was instead obscured by the shocking pink curtains with arrows of variable sizes and colors littered all over the rough fabric, almost as if they were sprinkled over, instead of sewn into the curtains. The randomness of it all is something that would be impossible to replicate by hand and intentions alone.

All in all, quite an odd sense of fashion the owner has.

Even though it still drew eyes here and there, the locals have mostly gotten used to the curious nature of the bungalow. After all, it belongs to, as the children of the neighborhood said it, the resident 'nutty old lady' of the town, Mrs. Moira Brown. Gossip has it that she allegedly went a tad crazy after her husband and son died, leaving behind her daughter-in-law and her grandson to take care of her. The stories about her insanity goes on and on, from her simply preferring to ride in a shopping cart instead of pushing it to starting an entire doomsday cult revolving around an ancient force buried fathoms upon fathoms underneath the ground.

Of course, most of these wild stories are nothing but fantasies, but as anyone who is close to her can attest to, there was a degree of truth to these beliefs.

And one of those people was her grandson. As his father is gone, his mother had no choice but to take him along with her trips to Moira's bungalow to help her mother-in-law with simple tasks, such as chores or going out for groceries. At this current point in time, his mother is away yet again for groceries, leaving behind the seven-year-old boy alone in the decrepit house with his presumably insane grandmother.

With the curtains pulled over, the insides of the bungalow were covered in a darkened hue, though not so lacking in natural light that its occupants can't get around. As such, the boy wandered around the base floor, occasionally dragging his foot over the dusty rug to imitate a zombie in order to showcase the sheer boredom he is experiencing, before setting his sights on a peculiar item resting on the dinner table: A small structure in the shape of a hourglass, albeit with a funnel at the top, its interior lined with spiraling grooves that led down to a hollow tube that extends all the way to the base, where it cuts just short above, just wide enough of a gap for a marble to fit through.

A single ball made of metal, most likely steel, was at rest next to the item, completely inert without any kind of movement…which was odd, considering how perfect spheres have a tendency to roll around even on a flat surface. His interests piqued, the young boy picked the steel ball up and let it roll back and forth in the palm of his right hand. In spite of the dim lighting, the surface of the ball still shines brightly.

After tossing the ball from hand to hand for a couple of minutes more, he turned his blue eyes, full of intent, towards the item from earlier. Connecting two and two together, the boy reached over and placed the metallic ball on top of the device before letting go. The ball began its journey, rolling on the grooves with increasing speed downwards as the boy watched, eyes moving rapidly along with the pace of the ball.

Eventually, the ball reached the bottom of the funnel as it fell through the hole and down the tube. The boy's common sense told him that the ball would drop down the base and roll away…

However, in a display of complete violation of the laws of physics, the ball did touch the base…before shooting upwards again and out of the funnel, remaining airborne for a few seconds before sticking to the ceiling, seemingly floating. Surprise would be too weak an emotion to describe how the boy is feeling right now. With his jaw agape, his juvenile mind immediately went over the reasons as to why such an occurrence happened that so blatantly disregards gravity.

Was the base and the ball magnetic, thus repelling each other as their poles oppose one another? Not likely, since no magnetic force, or any kind of natural force on earth that could send a ball to the ceiling and make it STAY there.

Was his mind playing tricks on him? Even more unlikely, as he distinctly remembers what he had for breakfast prior to arriving at his grandmother's place: toast, strawberry jam and a glass of apple juice, none of which had any kind of hallucinogenic chemicals that he is aware of.

Was there witchcraft involved? Again, not bloody possible-

"I see you have found it." His grandma's soft yet raspy voice, a product of old age, immediately took the boy out of his thoughts as he swiftly turned around with a nervous smile. "Did you like it, Willy?" She asked, standing at the hallway leading to the kitchen. With her oak-brown cardigan, graying black hair and slightly-hunched posture, Moira seemed like your average kindly old granny.

The boy, now named 'Willy', felt his nerves shot up as she referred to him with his pet name. "Oh! Grandma, I was just…" And then, in a strong attempt to divert the conversation elsewhere, he furrowed his eyebrows. "I told you not to call me that! My name's William!" Said William, cheeks bloated as he pouted.

Moira cocked her eyebrows and let her graying eyes scour William's form for a moment, which instantaneously saps any semblance of bravado in the boy as he presses his hands against the fabric of his pants firmly, tensing up under her gaze. Eventually, her face returns to its usual calmness and she gives her grandson a kind smile. "You were just what, dear?" She asked, ignoring his last statement.

Knowing that it was futile to dissuade his grandmother from continuing this topic she has chosen, William merely hangs his head upwards in defeat, letting out a drawn out groan in the process. "Fine…I was playing with this thing." He confesses, guiltily pointing his little finger at the device.

"Ah. Your curiosity got the best of you, I see. Was it fun?" She asked again, with cryptic undertones to her question.

William, as young as he is, didn't quite catch as to what she was going for, and thus answered honestly. "I…think it is. I don't know what I feel, really. It just feels nice to watch the ball rolling down." After all, there was no reason to be lying to his dear old grandmother. She may be a bit odd, but she is still family.

"Ah…this one is a toy a friend gave me some time ago. Long before you were born." The elderly woman spoke as she shuffled over to her grandson's side at an uncomfortably slow pace, before picking up the so-called toy, looking at it with a nostalgic tinge in her eyes. But then, the wistfulness was replaced with a puzzled expression on her wrinkled face. "Where is the ball, though? I'm sure it's lying somewhere around here."

William's blood went cold. Oh no. If the mere sight of a ball going against physics and floating in the air was enough to slacken his jaw, then there is no telling what such a view might do to the poor dear. Her heart might just give out. With a sense of worry, he forcefully taps Moira on the shoulder to turn her attention away from the ceiling. "I-I think it's just somewhere down here! Under the tables and a-all…" He lied, slightly stumbling in his speech and every now and then.

Unfortunately for young William, Moira had a little something called familial intuition, and she could tell that he wasn't being entirely straight with her. That, and his stutters weren't making things sound more convincing. Nonetheless, the old lady merely smiles as she rubs his neatly-combed hair, earning her a light blush from her grandson.

Walking over and standing below just where the ball is currently pressed up against the decaying wooden ceiling, Moira brushes off a few lint balls sticking to her frayed cardigan before holding up her open palm near to her face, as if reading a book.

Then, as inexplicable as its sudden ascension to the ceiling, the force holding the ball to the ceiling fades away as it drops down on her hand where she took hold of it in between her fingers with the grace of a professional catcher, a far cry from her usual shambling walk and other mobility issues that came with senescence.

"There it is! I was worried I might have overdone things and caused it to shoot through the roof. That would be terrible! I loved the shingles." Said Moira, unaware of the fact that her grandson looked more confused than ever, his body language going all over the place as he tried to convey his emotions into words, which all came out as malformed variations of 'why' and 'how' and 'what'.

"How did she do that?!" Thought William as his thought process went into overdrive, unable to comprehend as to how his grandmother managed to get the ball to drop down while it never budged with him around. Could it have been…?

No. It couldn't have been that. That's WAY too leeway of an explanation, and William's inquisitive seven-year-old brain seeks proper answers to such happenings.

"E-Erm, grandma…how exactly did you, uh, make that ball…fell off?" The boy said, feeling something stuck in his throat as he wasn't quite sure how to put his thoughts into sentences without making it sound awkward out of context.

Luckily, however, Moira appeared to have been able to pick up what he was trying to say. "Would you like to know, Willy?" She replied in a sweet tone. Perhaps a little too sweet. Sounds like diabetes, even.

"Yeah!" William excitedly hops up, his head shaking so fast that it could easily pass for a bobblehead figure. "Is it a magic trick? That's so cool!"

Moira didn't respond immediately. Instead, her smile from earlier was now dominated by a much wider grin, to an absolutely creepy degree. Taking a seat on one of the dining table's chairs, she turned towards her sole grandchild as the chair creaked under her sudden weight.

"I am so glad you asked."

The sheer calming quality of her voice was like a palpable gust of blizzard wind blowing over William. For all of his visits he never once heard her using this tone of voice. Was he in trouble?

"Come over here, Willy." His grandma beckons a hand at him, crossing her ankles while her other hand patted lightly on her lap. Understanding what she was implying, William takes tiny, timid steps over to her, before using one of the chair's spindles as a pedal to step up and place himself firmly on Moira's lap.

A brief moment of silence went by as the elderly woman rubbed her temples, letting out a long, drawn out breath. "Tell me something, love…" She started, softly petting her grandson on the head while looking out at a nearby window. "Do you solve everything with 'logic' and 'science'?"

William looks at her unreadable expression with his head cocked to one side like a confused puppy. "Uh…what do you mean?"

"Answer my question, dear." She curtly replied, her slow breathing slightly wavered as William shifted around uncomfortably.

Twiddling his thumbs together, the boy went over the thoughts in his head. What could she possibly mean to understand via such a question? "I…I think everything has an explanation. That makes sense, I mean." Seeing no use in deception, considering how it has already been proven that such tactics simply do not work on his grandmother, he settles for a straightforward response.

"Is that so?" Moira replied with a disappointed huff. It seemed as if she was expecting a negative answer to the question. "Then tell me, Willy…how do you explain this?" She extends her hand before William and produces the steel ball from earlier, its surface still gleaming against the limited light from the windows.

Blinking once and then twice, William was all but stumped. As he fumbled around with his words, unable to come up with a coherent response, Moira chuckled. After all, he is still a seven-year-old kid, his vocabulary wasn't quite as advanced yet to explain such things.

"It's fine if you can't, dear. Because things like this…they cannot be reasoned with scientific thoughts alone. 'Logic' is how normal humans dealt with knowledge beyond their understanding. To factualize it and make sense out of it." Moira said with a voice that is barely above a whisper, resting her bony hands on William's shoulders, much to his unease. "But sometimes, there are things that can't be explained. They are things that can perform miracles that make sense in our world, but brought forth through unknowable means…or simply, things that made the impossible possible."

As if on cue, the moment she finishes her sentence was also the moment the ball begins to fly upwards again, leaving the confines of William's hands. "And when a person manages to harness this illogical 'power'...they are then known as a magus. And the 'power' they harness is called 'magecraft'."

For a very short period, William's interests were washed over with a sense of skepticism and confusion. She's not putting all of this on magic alone, is she?

"Our very family has deep ties to the world of the unexplainable. Your father, and his father before him, were all accomplished magi. Myself, when married into this family…was blessed with that same gift." She goes on with a rapturous enthusiasm in her voice, her excitement clear to all. And then, she looks down on him. "And now…you. You are the latest heir, carrying the blood of the Brown family through your veins. Without a doubt, you possess the gift to harvest the power of the inexplicable. With proper cultivation, you can become stronger than any of them. You will stir up the supernatural world. They will all fear the name of Brown!"

William leaps off of her lap, fully knowing that she has once again entered one of her mad ramblings. Sure, she is harmless enough, but there was something about the sheer conviction she has for her words that unnerves him. Magecraft? Magi? It all sounds so utterly impossible to him. They only ever existed in the realm of fiction. If this magic was indeed real, then why haven't they shown themselves yet? There are many problems in the world that could have been solved with magecraft.

Like his father's death.

If magecraft, something that can perform the impossible, truly exists, why hasn't anyone back then done anything to save his father?

As such, to him, 'magic' and 'magecraft' don't exist for the simple matter of not showing up when a soul needs a miracle the most.

And nothing makes him more angry than those who tried to claim that it is true.

"Grandma." William finally spoke up, breaking Moira out of her deranged mumblings. His voice has lost most of its earlier cheerfulness, now replaced by a dreary monotone as his face adopts an ashen expression. "I get that you love stuff like this…but all of this is starting to sound really, really silly. Can we talk about something else?"

"Oh ho?" She replied with a rather haughty laugh, which was surprising to William. He half expected her to get angry about it or something like that. "But weren't you the one who wanted to know about what I did with the ball?"

"I don't wanna anymore! Besides, I already knew what's going on." William said with faux confidence, pointing at the ball. "It's a trick. The ball's a toy as well. A remote-controlled one. You're just making it fly with a controller behind your back. You can't fool me, grandma."

Moira audibly snorted, crossing her arms. "Are you calling me a trickster, dear?" There is no malice in her tone, however. If anything, it seems that she is more entertained by her grandson challenging her beliefs than any negative feelings.

"I'm not! I'm just trying to be…real, that's all." Said the boy, raising his voice while petulantly crossing his arms in conjunction with his grandmother. "Because what you said is crazy! There's no way magic is real without proof."

"Is proof what you want? Well then…don't blame me if you wet yourself." Moira spoke ominously, before leaning back on her chair and intertwining her fingers together, exuding the same sense of authority and confidence in oneself not unlike that of a mob leader. Her breathing slowed, Moira looked at William in the eyes…before a glowing green aura shrouds over her.

From the shadows behind her back, further shielded from sight by the aura, emerges a figure unlike anything seen before in this realm of existence.

Sitting right on top of Moira's left shoulder was an oddly proportioned humanoid, with a torso shaped vaguely similar to an hourglass, two short appendages bearing a resemblance to egg whisks for arms, an extremely flat and featureless head which would remind one of a discus, and finally, legs that are less like legs and more like two oversized screws positioned away from each other at the hip. To top it all off, the figure is mostly green in color, with a couple of plates strapped haphazardly across its body in white.

"This…is my magecraft." Said Moira, grinning from ear to ear and showcasing her unnatural pearly white teeth.

Now, most people who witnessed a strange-looking ghost coming from behind an elderly lady would have booked it and ran away to the nearest church to pray to whatever deities up there that the ghost doesn't take them. Not William, however.

Not because he wasn't scared.

It was because he couldn't see anything. "Uh…grandma? What are you talking about? I don't see anything." He asked, genuinely puzzled as to what his grandmother was referring to as her 'magecraft'.

Moira almost loses her grin, her sheer disappointment radiating off of her like an overworked heater. "You don't see it?"

"No."

"Not even a glimpse of it?"

"No!"

"Well…well, it seems like I got myself worked up over nothing. I should have known. You have yet to awaken your spirit." The elderly magus merely huffs, before getting up. Hobbling over to her grandson, she sports a kind smile once again. "But it is of no consequence. I myself was a late bloomer."

"Get what?!" William yelled in his head, befuddled beyond belief. What on earth is she even going on about? The strange thing is, the more he listens to her…the more persuasive she gets. It was as if his grandma had this strange attraction in her words. Or maybe he is going nuts as well?

Before the poor boy could further question his own sanity, Moira gave a hand and supportively pats him on the back. "Let's talk about something else." Upon hearing what she has to say, William lets out a breath of relief.

For the next few minutes, she asked him some fairly innocent things. How he did in school, what his home life is like, what he had for breakfast, lunch and dinner yesterday, all of which William answered with absolute certainty…

At least, until the last question. "Do you have friends, Willy?"

He was unsure how to reply to her at first. If he says yes, she will drop the topic even though he is lying. If he says no, then she will just peg him further about it. So far, the former seems like a good choice…

And he decided to go against it. "No. I don't have friends." Said the boy with an almost dejected voice, his shoulders slumping and his face falling flatter than Moira's attempt at making pancakes last week.

A sympathetic smile adorning her lips, Moira hunched over with difficulty as her knees creaked, before wrapping her arms around her grandson. "Oh, you poor thing. Why?"

William didn't budge from her hug. Instead, he keeps on standing upright with his arms folded. "We don't get along. They're all dumb kids anyway." He muttered spitefully under his breath.

"And why, exactly, are they considered dumb to you?"

"They keep telling me how apples can float if they hold it in the air long enough, even though our science teacher says that that's impossible, unless there is no gravity. I argued with them, and they called me a, uh, stuck-up. I called them idiots, and that's that." William quietly explained the events that had unfold at school, the toes of his feet digging into the hearthrug. He didn't like talking about these things a whole lot either.

"Ah. Well, that is to be expected in an environment where they have kids snorting glue and pushing square cubes into all the wrong holes. What you need, Willy, is an environment where you can meet your equals." Said Moira, a mysterious glint present in her eyes. "And what better to do so than to become a magus?"

"Grandma!" Snapped William, breaking out of her embrace. "Why are we talking about that again?"

"Like I said, your father and his father were magi. It is only fair that you will become one as well. Once your magecraft is unlocked, you will be one of us!" Moira exclaimed, raising her hands in the air before putting them down soon after as to not overtax her joints. "Just think about it! Not only will you move up in the world, but you will also get to meet your fellow magi!"

"Do you honestly think I believed any of that? It's not real, grandma!" William finally loses it, shouting at Moira. "None of this is real! Magic is just something people made up to trick preschoolers! They don't exist!"

"Say you." Moira replied with a detachedly cheery tone, not even minding the fact that he just yelled at her. "This is a bigger world than you think, dear. What you thought was impossible is always possible to others. Besides…" The elderly woman moved closer to the fuming William, until their faces were only a hair's breadth away from one another.

"Even if you don't follow the path of a magus, those who do will be drawn to you anyway. Because of this blood you carry, the blood of the Browns, that you are bound to the magical world!"

"A-And why is that? Why would these…'magi' go for me?" He asked, taking a step back.

"Because people and friends come and go…but magi are just fated to meet each other."

Those words never left his mind.

-0-

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

"Agh…" An extended groan can be heard as a humanoid form twisted and turned underneath the graying sheets, no doubt annoyed to hell and back at the disturbance the alarming clock is causing. Eventually, a hand shot out from the blanket and smacked the top of the clock, setting it to snooze.

As radio silence descended upon the darkened room, the person underneath the sheets pushed the fabric aside and finally unearthed himself, revealing a young man in his mid-2os yawning loudly and stretching his arms as wide as he could in order to loosen the knots in his joints after a long slumber.

Sitting up while trying to work out a kink in his back, the man turned his head towards the alarm. What time is it? Honestly, he had no idea. Every time he woke up, all he could feel, see and hear was the cold mattress, darkness and the beeping of the clock giving him a rude awakening. As he leaned closer to the calendar hanging by his bedside, a huge sense of disappointment crashed into him: it was the 18th of March, 2004.

Meaning, it is Monday.

"Bloody fuckin' Christ…" He could barely muster up the energy to swear before his head collapsed against the mattress, wanting it to consume his body so that he won't have to get up and begin his day job of teaching a bunch of ungrateful punks again.

But alas, for the sake of having a roof over his head, he has an obligation to keep going to work. Thus, with a heavy heart and his mouth as dry as a sack of sandpaper, the man hurled himself out of bed and stood up, revealing his tall but wiry musculature, with the smidgen of taut muscles here and there around his biceps and chest, which are mostly hidden by the shadows. Slowly walking into the bathroom, he wiped the thin layer of soap scum on the cracked mirror before opening the tap and gave himself a face full of cold water.

Once sure that all the sleepiness had been washed off, he wiped the remaining droplets of water dripping down his face with a towel before taking a good look at himself in the mirror. His slick jawline and Caucasian skin tone betrayed his ethnicity, while his long, messy hair has a deep brown color that is muted enough to blend in with most of the population. He brought a hand up to his unkempt goatee. Does he need a shave?

Without much else to say, his right hand wandered towards the sole can of shaving cream he has on display at the bathroom sink. After all, if he was going to face hell on earth, why not go out looking his best?

After giving it a good shake, he pressed down on the dip tube…only for a tiny, positively miniscule cloud of that creamy, foamy goodness to come out. Not to be dissuaded, he kept on shaking the canister and pressing the dip tube, determined to milk every last bit of cream from this blasted thing.

But woe, as for all of his efforts, five minutes went by and all he managed to squeeze out of the can was a couple more flecks of foam. Frustrated that his beautification had been hampered so early on, he made a sharp turn behind and threw the empty canister at his disheveled bed, causing it to bounce off of the mattress and hit the floor with a metallic clang.

Staring into the relative darkness of the room, the young man soon calms down upon realizing that there is no point in getting angry at nothing in particular. Mentally berating himself, he turns back to the broken mirror and begins applying what scant amounts of cream he has onto his facial hair. Once his face has been properly lathered, he washes his hands before taking out the razor sitting on the bathroom sink, just next to where the shaving cream used to be.

Carefully removing his goatee, he then rinses the razor blade, watching the mixture of foam and hair washes down the sink with unusual interest. Once done with washing off the rest of the cream on his face, he takes another look at the mirror. "Hey. Good looking." It was nothing more than a mild boost in ego, but he felt inclined to do it anyway. Couldn't hurt to compliment yourself, could it?

After finishing brushing his teeth and using the toilet, he emerged from the tiny, one-person bathroom, feeling renewed for the morning. Taking off and discarding his sleeping clothes, he takes the freshly hanged clothes near his table that is reserved for work, composed of a light blue dress shirt, white coat and brown slacks.

In the process of putting these on, however, something else caught his sight. A strange toy in the form of a pseudo-hourglass with a funnel on top, lined with grooves for a marble of some sorts to roll down the hollow tube all the way towards the base. The device was wrapped in a simple red bow tie, simply to denote that it is meant to be a gift. A tiny note was attached to the tie, reading out:

'For my grandson, William.

Sometimes, the only way to get up is down.'

William's usually fast pace of dressing slowed down a bit as he took a closer look at the so-called toy, as his grandmother vehemently claims it to be one. A nostalgic, almost homesick feeling courses through his heart as he picks up the toy and runs a finger over the metallic surface that, despite it being almost eighteen years since he discovered it at his grandma's bungalow, still maintained its luster without even a spot of rust to be seen.

However, alongside that feeling of nostalgia was also one of disdain, as the toy reminds him of all the times when his grandmother would talk about their family being involved with magic and whatnot. "What a bunch of hogwash." He said to himself, absentmindedly putting his coat on before placing the toy back to its original position.

Ever since his grandmother passed away, the metal ball that came with the toy no longer floats to the ceiling whenever it drops to the base for whatever reason, despite it doing so numerous times when he first received the toy, only to drop down about five minutes later. At times, he wondered why he still kept the thing around even as its sole appeal was lost. And to finish off his list of nitpicks, the little quote she wrote for him makes no sense.

Ignoring that lingering question in his mind for now, William decided that there are more pressing issues to deal with.

Like, actually get his ass out of his cramped apartment and head to work.

Soon enough, he does just that. Adding in a few finishing touches to his average looks, such as a mechanical watch along with a gray tie and a simple rubber band to tie his hair into a short ponytail, he heads out of his shabby apartment with his briefcase in tow and locks the door before making a beeline towards the elevator.

As the neon light of the floor indicator turns into the number '1', a soft ding is heard, indicating that he has reached the base floor. Wasting no time, William speedwalks out of the building and starts his long and arduous journey to Homurahara Academy.

"Bloody hell…only fifteen minutes 'til my class starts." He thought, tapping his watch harshly while his legs propel themselves at a slightly faster than normal pace. At the surface level, it may look like William is a stickler for rules.

But if one were to ask him to be truthful, then his only answer will be that he would much rather be late. Taking the day off, even. Because, why bother wasting away at a school where not even your students respect you when he could be doing something much more productive for himself, like seeking another job more worthy of his skill, or just making himself a cup of tea at home?

Now that William thought more clearly about it…why did he even move to Japan in the first place? He still very vividly remembers the set of poor life choices that lead him here.

As his mother went on to marry someone else, his first poor life choice was when he chose to live with his grandmother instead of living with his new and potentially richer family, out of some misguided sense of loyalty to his father's side of the family. As a result, his main source of entertainment there was his grandma's mad ramblings.

As he grew older, he poured most of his time into studying, hoping to land himself in a nice boarding school and graduate and get a cushy job elsewhere, away from his grandma's run-down bungalow. He particularly excelled in physics and mathematics, and was even offered a prestigious scholarship.

Here was when his second poor life choice was committed: he decided to help an old friend out with his exams, for old times' sake and a misguided belief that doing good for others will get him some good back. As a result, that same friend got caught cheating and threw him under the bus, thus getting him kicked out and losing that scholarship, thus forcing him to seek a lesser college.

As he graduated with flying colors at said college, the first thought to enter his mind was to move out of the country, to escape his sullied past there. He could have moved anywhere and still live comfortably. But no, instead, he committed his third and, hopefully, last poor life choice: moving to Japan, out of some misguided thought that it was a land of opportunities for a foreigner like himself. After spending grueling months perfecting his Japanese and working extra jobs, he managed to scrape enough money together to move there.

"Your degree has limited the options."

That was what they said to him at the place where he applied for his internship. Apparently, a degree with high honors in both physics and mathematics could only really open up one position for his intellect - a teacher. He tried, again and again, to make them change their minds, but it was no use.

After spending some time floundering in and out of job applications and sleeping on benches, William finds himself employed at the local school of Fuyuki City to teach maths and physics, after someone whose face he had forgotten introduced him to it over a drink. At first, he tried his best to be optimistic about it, as he did get to teach his favorite topic to youngsters.

But then, he was never clarified that it was a high school, and thus he was totally unprepared to deal with a bunch of rowdy teenagers. But again, it was his first day, so he goes along with a smile on his face. It can't be all bad, right? They're all educated members of society, after all. They would certainly show him the appropriate amount of respect.

If only.

First, the students didn't even bother greeting him when he arrived at class. Second, they barely acknowledge his name, forcing William to reiterate it several times to each and every of the twenty-plus students in his class. Not only that, they kept snickering at him throughout the lesson. Is it because of the clothes he wears? Or him being from a relatively far-off land? His (at that point) choppy Japanese?

The majority of that day amounts to absolutely nothing since none of the students would even pay his lessons an ounce of attention. And on top of all that, when school is over, above a door was a bucket full of water, intended to be a prank to whatever poor soul was opening it.

And that poor soul was William. His troubles were only further exacerbated by the fact that he was wearing his best suit for his first day. He was pissed beyond belief, and immediately filed a complaint to the principal….the first, of many, many complaint letters he wrote to the headmaster of the school. He didn't quite remember how many he wrote exactly, but he lost count the second the numbers reached triple digits.

Ever since that day, his classes went out of their way to make his life hell for the next six months, and unlike the other staff members, they knew he couldn't do a thing about it. Filing complaints to the principal? He did that already, and stopped once the amount of letters he sent reached triple digits. Talking them out of it? As if. Solving things with good old knuckle sandwiches? Not only is he at a serious disadvantage here, squaring up against younger, faster opponents, it is also about the fastest way to get him out of a job.

And he needed this job. The financial issues that followed him from home are already as hard as it is. With the meager pay that comes with being a teacher, he seeks out the cheapest housing choices around before deciding on an apartment complex that is relatively close to the school so he wouldn't have to waste more money on transportation, in spite of how crappy his living conditions there were.

But life goes on, what can you do? Sure, the water gets cut off at random intervals and the walls are so thin that he could hear what his neighbors are doing, down to every single detail, but at least he still has a roof over his head. That's a small compensation.

Shaking his head, William tried to push away these recollections. "Why would I want to remember any of that?" Deeming that he has spent enough time reminding himself of those memories, which is never so technically that is already infinite-percent too long, the teacher takes in a sharp breath of air to calm his mind before returning to his daily commute.

Once the school gates were within his peripheral vision, William slowed his pace from a speed walk down to just a normal walk to preserve what little energy he had for the morning. He didn't have breakfast, so maybe he'll get something extra beefy for lunch. "Wonder if they serve meat pies here-"

"Hey! Oh, you can't believe how glad I am to see you here!" Came a familiar, peppy voice which got William to look for the source. "Good to know I'm not the only one running late today."

Adjacent to where he is standing was a young woman with features more youthful than himself, despite their one-year age gap. Her light brown hair was kept in a deliberately short and boyish pixie cut, reaching only to her nape while her eyes of the same color focused on him with a cheerful edge to them. Her emerald green dress fluttered slightly in the wind as she moved to his side of the road. Standing at 165 cm, she barely reaches up to his shoulders.

He could spot her from a mile away, which isn't a hard task, considering how she always dresses so bright that not even a blizzard could hide her. Taiga Fujimura, the English teacher as well as the person tasked with showing him around the school on his first day. It was easy to see why she was up to the job: throughout the entire trip, she was nothing but supportive and understanding to him, even helping him in correcting his Japanese every time he made a slip.

Needless to say, her presence was a welcoming one. But William knew better than to get close to people, so he kept his distance. "Ah. Fujimura." William replied to her energetic greeting with the driest tone known to man. It wasn't because of him holding anything against her - in fact, it was the complete opposite. She's the first to show him any kind of human decency here, and he knew he could be better with the delivery of that line, but for some reason, he couldn't.

He often wondered…was she just being nice because she pitied him? That's always a possibility. Maybe she saw him getting bullied by his own students and took pity for the pathetic sack of flesh that he is.

He hated that line of thought.

"Brown-san? Hello? Yoohoo?" Before he could think anymore, her incessant questioning broke him out of his trance. Blinking stupidly into the clear sky, he lowered his head to meet her gaze. "Are you okay? You just space out like, big time."

"Did I? Don't worry too much about it, I was just thinking about…things." Said William with a vague answer, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he walked across the gates and into the school perimeters, with the brunette following him. Taking pride in that their relationship is professional, the Australian automatically switches to a more formal manner of speech whenever he talks to her. "It is nothing that concerns you."

"Really? I dunno…you were looking really serious back there." Then, Taiga did her best imitation of William's earlier grim expression, with little success. Still, he could see where she was going. "If it troubles you, we can always talk it out ya know."

"Like I said, it was nothing important. I'm just thinking of what to have for dinner." He reiterated his point, getting just a tad annoyed that she wouldn't drop the topic. "Now, can we just go in before the bell rings and our pay gets docked? If that happens I'm blaming you."

Taiga, in spite of William coming off as more standoffish than average, merely ignored it and elbowed the taller man with a bright smile. "Aww, what's wrong? Did someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?" She said, her smile now morphing into a teasing grin. "You can always let it all out with your good friend, Fuji-nee here!"

"First of all, nothing's wrong. That's just how I am. You should know, I've been here for over a year already." William scowls, quickly tearing down any notion that he is in need of help or support. "Second, since when are we 'friends'? And third…I'm older than you."

"Ever since you helped me out with that English textbook, of course! And if not back then, we are now! And that's more than enough for me! If you ask me, I already considered you a friend a long time ago! After all, I'm the only one to talk to you when you first came here." Said Taiga, completely ignoring his last answer. Ever the eternal optimist, she is absolutely relentless in her quest to befriend William, despite the only reason for her pursuit of his friendship is because he helped her, once, with an English textbook.

Many would consider him to be unreasonable: after all, why wouldn't he want to be friends with someone who is kind, honest, a little bit snarky and very easy on the eyes? For him, the answer is simple. He had better things to do than chasing skirts, like trying to go to bed with at least some nutrients in his stomach or dealing with the hellions in his classes.

Besides, Fujimura would probably be better off friends with somebody else other than him.

"Right…if that's what you think, then I'm not gonna stop you." Going through three possible answers in his head, William chose the least worst one. The other two were 'Well, I don't' and 'Could you just leave me alone?'. Taiga appears to have gotten the wrong idea though, as the next move she does shocked him to the core.

She…hopped forward and gave him a tackling hug on the side, a confirmation of their one-sided friendship. "Yay! Friendship hug!" Fujimura said happily, her slender arms wrapped around William's thin frame.

"Fujimura, could you…could you please act your age for once? People might get the wrong idea." Groaned William, trying and failing to break away from the sudden invasion 0f private space. For her height and size, Taiga is surprisingly strong with her arms keeping a vice-like grip on his torso.

Her ears perking up at that last statement, she turned her head up and flashed him a catty smile. "Oh? Are you afraid others might think we're…in a relationship, Brown-kun~?" She cooed, her voice dropping down to a contralto while her eyelids remained at half mast. Her striped shirt pressed closer to his dress shirt, the fabric rubbing against each other.

This is the one quality William disliked about Taiga. Being a nubile young lady in her 20s and is currently on the prowl for options grants her the uncanny ability to come on a little too strong the second anyone gives her attention. And god forbid, she is damn good at making hearts waver if she puts effort into it.

And he hated feeling weak at the knees.

Looking to the side to avoid showing her his burning face, William lets off a theatrical cough before regaining his voice. "N-No, what I am saying is that two colleagues, especially teachers, hugging in front of the school gates is highly inappropriate and may get us an earful from the principal." His eyes then wander towards the set of windows where his first class of the day, physics, will be starting. The kids are probably filming them already.

"Pfft! I'm kidding!" Taiga chuckled and, at long last, released William from her grip before flashing him her usual childish smile. "Still, imagine what a strange sight that would be. You, me, a couple doing things couples do and all…" She trails off, as if wanting to lead this conversation to a certain point.

"Can't imagine in a million years." William bluntly replied, his neutral expression changed as his lips curved into a very, very light smirk. "But wherever that road takes you and me, I think it'd be lovely."

With proper timing of a reverse-flirt, the tables have turned. As Taiga starts blushing up a storm, her thoughts break down into little more than a mess of speculations and guesses. "I-Is he-? Is that meant to be a confession?!" Her mind couldn't withstand such pressure, and as such began to go into overdrive as she thought about the possibilities. With her face still a deep shade of crimson, Fujimura made a ninety-degree turn and ran off at nigh-superhuman speeds that kicked up a cloud of dust large enough to work as a smokescreen for her exit. "Oh no time's up I gotta start homeroom now I'll see you later Brown-san!" She said in one long continuous line, not even pausing for a breath.

Watching her figure disappearing around one of the school buildings, William's emotions went cold once again as his muscles relaxed and his hands lost the thin layer of sweat on their palms. Looking down at his watch, he could see that he was only five minutes away from getting a first-class trip to the headmaster's office for tardiness.

Sighing heavily, William stretches his legs for a moment before breaking into a sprint up the stairs of the building right in front of him.

-0-

"I'm surrounded by morons." Thought Rin Tohsaka, resting her head on her hand while observing her fellow classmates fooling around with each other, swapping crude jokes and making origami out of their notebooks and generally creating disorder in this once-silent classroom, in spite of the fact that it was a Monday, and thus the first period will be having a short test on physics. She couldn't believe these idiots made it to this school, much less accepted into physics class.

Physics was one of the newer topics introduced at Homurahara last year, and so far it has made itself one of the subjects she looked forward to learning. Unlike English or History, the subject in question is a great deal more difficult and requires precise memorization of various formulas and calculations, as well as knowing how to apply them in real life.

All of which is a good challenge for her brilliant mind. The most important factor to her enjoyment of physics lessons, however, according to her, was that the teacher knew what he was talking about. Ever since his first lesson here, she could hear the passion in his voice whenever he began talking about his field of expertise. What's more impressive is that, in spite of Japanese not being his first language, he could still explain the more complicated topics in a way that she understands.

She had to admit, at first she was surprised that a foreigner, especially from a country where Japanese is virtually non-existent, was in charge of such a hard subject, but she decided to give him a chance nonetheless. And he had certainly proven himself to be up to the task.

Though for all of his good qualities, he could really use a makeover in punctuality. "He's late." Rin mused to herself, her aquamarine eyes tracing over to the vanilla-colored door of the classroom as the bell rang, signifying the supposed start of the lesson. The physics teacher was known for being at least five or even ten minutes late to class, but she knew it wasn't always this way.

From her aura of haughtiness and untouchable academic power, she observed him. For his first couple of weeks here, he was very much your average case of an uptight, rule-abiding teacher, always arriving on time and dressed immaculately without a single wrinkle in his clothes. But as time went on, these qualities slowly eroded.

One day, she saw him with clothes slightly more disheveled than usual.

The other day, she saw him with an unshaven stubble and bags under his eyes.

And eventually, his upright posture was replaced with a more hunched and lifeless one. One time, she even spotted him taking a swill from a flask during lunch, just on the rooftop. Yet, she never reported anybody.

Because she knew exactly what caused this slow, yet painful degradation of the man. It is hard to pinpoint exactly what caused William Brown to turn from this clean, straight-edged teacher to the depressed, dispassionate mess he is today, as it was the product of countless days of being downtrodden and grounded down by Homurahara's delinquent population, but she could point out a few key 'players'.

Speaking of which, one of those was right behind her, with his legs arrogantly resting on the table, his rusty red hair swaying from the air of the ceiling fan and an insufferably smug expression plastered on his brutish face as his cronies surrounded him. This particularly unpleasant individual was Goda Takahashi, a notorious bully who was fished out of juvenile detention and placed in this school only because of his parents' pockets.

Unlike most bullies however, Goda was smart about it. He didn't just waltz up to a weaker student and swiped their things while giving them a bloody nose, no. Instead, he prefers to spend his time convincing the more gullible students to work under him, where he will provide them with his 'protection' while they handle all the dirty work for him. Make no mistake, the delinquent stood at a respectable 178 cm and could easily beat people up should he desired to.

He simply figured out that, by having underlings to do work for you, the principal and the staff will have a harder time incriminating him for anything. Not only that, Goda was willing to work with those who are not a part of his goons, as long as they have the correct price. Hence, Goda's reign of terror has maintained its hold over the student populace ever since the start of last year. As much as Rin detests him, she has to give credit to where it's due: should he was alive back in the Medieval times, he would no doubt become an effective, if tyrannical king.

However, upon William Brown's arrival, Goda's reign saw a radical change. Not necessarily a good one. The cases of bullying tied to him simply…stopped. Ceased to be. On the other hand, the physics teacher soon became Goda's favorite chew toy. It's not hard to see why: Their personalities contrast each other. Brown-sensei was a stickler for rules, takes his job very seriously and will dish out the appropriate degree of discipline to those challenging his authority as a teacher. Goda, however, dislikes being ordered around and actively goes against any form of authority applied against him. This was the basis for their 'relationship': whereas every other teacher has given up on disciplining Goda any further than detentions, William opted to not let the delinquent get the better of him, even going as far as to physically get rough with him just to prevent Goda from skipping class.

And it was more than enough of an excuse for the bully to begin harassing the teacher. The more Brown struggled and lashed out against these provocations, the more vigorous Goda gets in his later attempts to humiliate and torment the teacher, and despite it being quite clear that getting angry will only dig a deeper hole for himself, William still responded with intense emotions, thus further fueling Goda's desire to break him, even going as far as to sign himself up for physics just to mess with him.

As more time passed, William gradually became less and less emotional to his tactics, building a shell around himself to block out any disturbance. As hard as he tried, Goda couldn't quite elicit the same reactions from the teacher anymore and, now bored, expanded his lists of targets again. However, William remained his most frequent victim, mainly because the physics teacher is still determined to not let him get his way.

What disgusts Rin the most about this whole situation wasn't the bully himself, however. It was the students that witnessed the absolute hell Goda put William through, and opted to do nothing about it, merely whistling and looking the other way. Though, she understood their reason for doing so: as long as William gets the brunt of it, they will all stay out of Goda's crosshairs. And thus, for the clinging hope of peaceful school lives, bystander syndrome kicks in and they all turn a blind eye.

At times she wished she could have helped the teacher out of his predicament, but given the untouchable strings that bind her to a world different from his own, as well as her need to preserve the veneer of normalcy around her life prevented Rin from actually putting her foot down on the matter. Besides, she had a crucial task tonight and unwanted attention from a bunch of ne'er-do-wells is the last thing she wanted.

Before she could think of anything else, the door suddenly swings open with great force, slamming against the wall. Her twintails gracefully swayed left and right as she turned her head towards the open door.

Standing at the doorway while breathing like he had just gone through a track meet was none other than the man himself, William. "Apologies, class…I went up the wrong building." He spoke with a small, awkward smile at the corner of his lips, though it quickly diminished once he saw his nemesis.

Goda, however, merely cracked a sadistic grin at the sight of his 'favorite' person. Sitting up in a more dignified position, the teen opened his mouth to greet his teacher. "Yo, sensei. What's in store today? You're gonna drop some knowledge on us?" He said as the chuckles and laughs of his goons reverberated across the room. His voice sounded innocent, yet anyone with a functional frontal cortex could see that it was all fake. Goda was putting up this friendly facade with William solely to make it seem like he did nothing wrong.

And it pissed him off to no end.

For now, though, he maintained his icy exterior, coughing while shooting his troublesome student a tired glare. "Plenty, provided that you stick around long enough." Replied William, voice croaky and fatigued to further drive home how utterly done he is with Goda's antics. Sliding his briefcase behind his chair, William picked up the attendance sheet and began calling out the names provided, ticking the box next to them whenever the person in question raised their hand.

It all goes smoothly enough…until he lands on the last name in the list. "Shirou Emiya." It would be a three-second period of pure soundlessness, save for the occasional chirping of birds outside before William repeats himself, slightly louder this time. "Shirou Emiya? Do we have Shirou Emiya here?" William asked no one in particular, glancing around the classroom. With his gaze lingering on the empty table, William picks up the red pen reserved for ticking names marked as absent…

Before a sudden 'thud' is heard at the entrance as the door, still recovering from its previous abuse at the hands of William, smashes against the wall again and makes the older man drop his pen from the loud noise.

Leaning against the doorframe while trying to repay his oxygen debt with every gasp was a boy with spiky auburn hair and hazel brown eyes which were complimented by his relatively light complexion. His hands were tugging on the hems of his uniform's shirt. "I…I'm here, Brown-sensei. Sorry, I overslept."

If it was any other teacher, they would have given him a short lecture on going to bed early, but this being William, he was far too burned out to even waste any time with the boy. "At least you made it, so that's something. Get to your seat, Emiya." He motioned Shirou to his designated table with the red pen. The teen quickly nodded in compliance and entered the classroom, but not before closing the door first.

Now that he had a full class, William felt a mild sense of accomplishment. For the very first time, everyone was at their correct tables and not all over the place like usual. Coughing into his hands, he looked at his class. "Let's get cracking, shall we?" And with that, he fished out a piece of chalk from a box in the drawer and formally began the lesson. "Revision for today. Any questions you have, come up and ask me. We'll begin a new topic tomorrow."

Through the fast and energetic way he is writing the mathematical equations and formulas on the chalkboard, one would be forgiven to think that he is really passionate about his subject. However, the first clue as to how he truly feels is all reflected on his face: not a hint of emotion was shown. Despite scrawling with the chalk with clear power in his movements, it is all but a mask.

In truth, he no longer held the same feeling he once had for his forte that is the field of physics. In fact, the only thing that is keeping him functional and barely awake throughout the day right now is a sense of obligation: he was hired to teach, and teaching is what he will do, no matter how tedious and torturous it gets. But sometimes, not even duty was enough. No amount of duty could ever get him his self-respect back. All the times that punk, Goda humiliated and made a fool out of him…

So, he convinced himself that everything he is doing is purely out of self-interest. Namely, he is in it only for the money. It wasn't much, but at least he had a stable income. Something he could save all for himself, and given enough time, he could gather enough to get himself out of here.

But until then…

Splat!

He still has to put up with Goda shooting spitballs into his back. His mouth curling into a disgusted snarl, he took out his handkerchief and removed the saliva-ridden crumpled up ball of paper from his formerly-clean coat. "You have a question, Takahashi?"

"Yeah." Replied the punk, concealing his straw by stuffing it into his pocket. "When is class gonna be over?"

"Forty more minutes, Takahashi. You're in for an exciting ride." William dryly snapped back, before returning his attention to the board. Goda clicks his tongue in an annoyed manner, leaning back to his seat while thinking of new ways to entertain himself.

As he continued chalking up various information about today's topic for everyone to note down, not that the majority of them will do so anyway, he thought a little about what Goda asked. And then, against everything that is beautiful, he finds himself agreeing with the little shit. He too wanted for this period to be over so that he could bugger off into the teacher's lounge for the rest of the day.

Besides, he bought himself a couple of reading materials last Friday and accidentally left them there for the weekends, and now he has every intention of getting to them as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, Goda was still rapping his knuckles on his desk, bored out of his mind. Sure, he could just stand up and leave and there won't be a thing his poor old sensei could do about it…but it won't be as satisfying. No, he has gotten too used to the teacher's deadpan expression whenever he skips the class. This time around, he needed to bury William. To truly make him despair and beg for his mercy. Murder is too far fetched, so merely burying his reputation will do for now.

And he had just the tools he needed for this diabolical plan. As his eyes gain a devious glint, he reaches for his backpack and rummages through its contents. Some of his followers edged their heads closer out of curiosity.

From the dark depths of his bag, Goda pulled out an adult magazine and raise the item high above the air, its tantalizing pink-and-red covers depicting well-endowed ladies in obscenely erotic positions and even more risque clothing clear for all to see.

The female populace of the class was, understandably, repulsed by this action, some of them gasping dramatically at the prospect of such lewd items being on school grounds. The sole exception was Tohsaka, who merely snorted at the sight of the magazine before returning to her note-taking. She deemed such things to not even be worth the effort of her being apprehended by it.

The male students had the complete opposite reaction. Some whistle, some clap and most were yelling cheers for Goda having the massive brass balls to do something like this, right in front of a teacher no less! They expected no less from the top dog.

However, none of these reactions were as severe as their teacher's. William was totally petrified, standing still like a statue while the piece of chalk was slowly crushed in his tightening grip. His eyes were imbued with a terrible sense of panic as they landed on the magazine. "How in the hell did he-"

His stormy thoughts were interrupted when William pinched himself, hard, in the thigh. No. Now is not the time to freak out. Goda would have wanted that kind of reaction. He couldn't let him win. Not now, not ever. So, he kept his cool in spite of his rapidly beating heart. "Takahashi, why do you have that?"

Noticing the look he is getting from William, Goda lets out a mirthful chuckle and stands up. "What do you mean? It's not mine."

"That's not what I meant by the question. What I'm asking is, why do you have it here? You do know that pornographic materials are strictly banned on school grounds, right?" The physics teacher replied, with a sense of certainty in his voice in order to mask the panic that is building up in his gut.

"Just making sure everyone sees an offense here, considering that I found it in your office." In an instant, every single eye turned towards William. Even the previous laughter and jeers amongst the male students petered out and eventually grew into complete silence. Feeling his throat getting drier and his breathing more haggard by the minute, William lets go of the crumbling chalk in his hand before clenching his fist.

"Where's the proof of that? You can just buy one yourself." He reasoned. Goda's smug grin didn't go away, however.

"Oh, sensei…you should know that I'm still seventeen. They won't sell me these. That means only the adults could buy it, and we all know it ain't Fujimura-sensei or Kuzuki-sensei." The delinquent rebuked him perfectly, putting William at a serious disadvantage in terms of argument.

"Shit, he had a point." He mentally assessed the situation, thin beads of sweat already running down either side of his face. But still, he could still wiggle his way out of this. He still has one last argument that would shut this down. Victory will be his!

"That might be true…but nothing's preventing you from buying it from some back alley either. They have a black market dedicated to these, you know?" Said William with a spring in his step, the confidence in his voice returning at full force and his posture straightens with absolute trust in himself. "So there's no guarantee that you didn't just buy one in order to frame me. Even then, there is no one to prove that you did take it from my office."

Goda looked contemplative…before giving William an innocent smile. "Well, if that is the case, why is it all covered in plastic foil? That's something only proper places do. Back alley dealers don't do stuff like that. They just take the money and hand it over." He explained with a disturbingly calm voice, very much aware of the effect it is having on William. "Be truthful, sensei…it's yours, right? If you're honest, I won't tell anyone."

What a bullshit claim. Even if he doesn't tell anyone, something that William heavily, heavily doubts he would follow up with, there are still more than twenty eyes and ears here that have witnessed the entire thing unfold. And it ends with William as the loser.

His fists shaking with frustration, the teacher looks down on his feet, whatever confidence he had in himself earlier vanished into thin air. "Fuck. This isn't good. Gotta think of something, anything!" He grinds his jaws against each other, before looking back up at the bully. "Still, there's no proof. No witnesses."

"Really?" With a snap of his fingers, almost all of the male students raised their hands claiming to be the witness to Goda taking the adult magazine from William's office, no doubt being his goons. Now the teacher really was driven into a corner. Half the class was testifying against him, the female students were beginning to give him dirty looks, and he had no greater argument than 'you have no proof'.

And just like an animal, when cornered, he lashes out. "Do you all honestly believe I'm the one? What makes you all so sure that these 'witnesses' aren't told to do so by Takahashi, huh?" He raises his voice as his sense of being in control wavers and his sophisticated speech breaks down, trying desperately to find at least an ally in this dilemma. If even one raised their hand, he would be the happiest man in the world.

…And there was none. "Sensei, this is really pathetic. Are you so thirsty that you would even buy this kind of magazine?" Goda taunts him, waving the magazine in front of his face and pointing at one particular lady in the cover with her posterior edging a little too far out. "Come on, admit it. You like this kind of stuff, don't you?"

William balled his fists, his nails digging so deeply into the flesh of his palms that he thought it might draw blood. His defeat is imminent, he could see. However, what little pride he had left prevented him from properly admitting the magazine to be his. Thus, all he could really do is to stare at the ground and not giving Goda the satisfaction of seeing his face.

"That's what I thought." Goda then bursts into a fit of laughter, with his underlings joining in shortly after. It wasn't the friendly, chummy kind of laughter - no, it was the cruel, mocking kind of laughter as they derive humor from his suffering. They laughed and laughed, while others began gossiping about their teacher.

Rin, from the safety of her desk, gives him a sympathetic look before shaking her head and returning to her notes, trying her best to avoid looking at William getting publicly kink-shamed.

Many expected William to just flat out explode or burst into tears, but that's not what happened. He wasn't feeling any sense of extraordinary sadness or anger. Why?

Because he has abandoned all thought. All he could think of right now, is to drive his fist into Goda's face and knock that smile right off his kisser.

But he couldn't. Under no circumstances should a teacher hurt a student, no matter what. Should someone break this rule, punishments are guaranteed to be severe, along with the lawsuits that came with it.

But..at this very moment, this one second where Goda looks exposed, William couldn't give less than a flake of crap about what will happen to him. Fuck this job. Fuck these kids. Fuck the principal. He just wanted to punch Takahashi, the punk that has made his life hell ever since his first day, in the face.

The desire to raise his fist comes crashing at full force…but he then regains a bit of self-control when something unprecedented happens.

Emerging from his desk, Shirou Emiya walked towards the small but sinister crowd around William, his pose cool and collected before his hand reached out and snatched the magazine from Goda. "Do you think it's alright to do this to others?" The orange-haired teen asked, placing the magazine on the far left side of William's desk.

The silence was deafening as the students tried to figure out what had just conspired. Did Homurahara's resident mechanic just take something from the top bully that strikes fear into students and teachers alike? Without his permission?

He must have had a death wish.

"What did you just say?" The infinitesimally thin cloak of friendliness Goda puts up was soon ripped to shreds as he marched through the crowd and got right up into Shirou's face. "You might wanna choose some better words."

"I said," Emiya spoke up again, voice firm and not betraying even a hint of hesitance. "Do you think it's alright to do this to Brown-sensei? Is it really funny to treat him like that?"

"Well, duh. That's why we laughed, dumbass." Replied Goda in a condescending tone, stating his answer as if it is the most obvious thing in the world with his cronies chuckling robotically in the background.

"If you think it's so fun, then would you have liked it if you were in his shoes? To be mocked and disrespected as he is?" Shirou continues his armor-piercing questions, seemingly unbothered by the fact that William is staring at him with his mouth left slightly open. This boy, who he barely even knew outside of being yet another student in his class, just stood up for him. "Leave Brown-sensei alone. He's already having a hard time as it is."

But…why? Was it because of an ulterior motive? Or did he do it out of the goodness of his heart? William finds it seriously hard to believe that it would be the latter case. Either way, as much as he hates to say it…he appreciates Shirou for the assistance. But he really shouldn't have. William could handle this on his own. Like always.

Like always-

Thwack!

His thoughts were broken up when he heard the sounds of Goda closing in and drilled his fist into Shirou's stomach. One punch seems to be all it takes, as the boy hunches over and slumps to his knees with a grunt. The delinquent snorted, before walking over and peered down on him with an impassive gaze. "Oh, I'm so sorry Mr. Hero In Shining Armor! I promise never to do this again!" Said Goda with a mocking falsetto, crossing his arms. "Oh, spare me the hero crap. Hear me out: I do whatever the hell I want. If you don't wanna end up like him, then I suggest you keep your nose outta my business. Got it?"

Giving the auburn-haired teen one last kick to the side that knocks him over, Goda lets off another low chuckle before turning around and heading towards the door. He didn't get very far before another voice held him back.

"Where do you think you're going?" Said William, his face losing the embarrassed expression from earlier, now replaced with a more neutral one. It was…frankly unnerving, to say the least. The way his emotions suddenly shifted into something else entirely was done in such an abrupt manner that it threw some of the students off guard.

Goda, however, doesn't appear to be fazed by it. "What does it look like? I'm going out. I already got what I wanted." He finishes his sentence with a laugh, glancing at the adult magazine.

"I see. Well, there's not much I could do to stop you." A resigned William said, hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat. "But just before you go…let me tell you something."

Goda raised an eyebrow, but otherwise decided to humor William anyway. He had already buried William's reputation with the class, so there's really no point in not giving the teacher a bone. Besides, it will feel all the more delicious when he yanks his chain in the future.

"Back in Australia, we got something called Vegemite. Delicious stuff, even better with toasted bread. We take two slices, with a spoon of Vegemite, and then you get a Vegemite sandwich." William described the process with detail, his hands animatedly mimicking the act of placing two bread slices together. "But there's also another kind of sandwich that the little kids can be found dishing out on an average day back there."

"Which is?" Goda goes along with it, stepping closer to William until the two of them are right in front of each other. He is only slightly shorter than the teacher, thus they looked eye-to-eye.

Now was his chance.

His fists balled up again and, without warning, William raised his right fist and socked Goda right in the jaw with a left hook, his knuckles making a dent on the bully's cheek as the punch connected. The delinquent didn't quite fall on his ass as he had expected, but he was sent staggering back. Various shocked gasps were heard from other students, who did not expect their normally mild-mannered teacher to have the guts to punch someone, let alone Goda Takahashi himself.

Some of the male students, seeing their 'boss' getting assaulted, rushes from their positions and apprehended William, holding him back and locking his arms. It didn't matter. He had wanted to do that for months now. And boy, did it feel good.

Goda clutches his jaw for a while…before bouncing back and shooting William an odd look, his face indicating a minimal degree of discomfort. Not even a bruise or a cut lip was visible. "Huh…thought you Australians could punch harder than that. Guess I was wrong."

Then, he looked at the two cronies holding William back before giving them a hand signal. "Come on. Let's ditch the place." They give him a silent nod and release William from their hold. The teacher stumbled forwards, confused as to why Goda doesn't retaliate despite having every reason and opportunity to do so.

"H-Hey! Why didn't you hit back?" William questioned his lack of a reaction, skeptical and equal parts insecure that his strike is so weak that it equates to nothing more than a bug, biting away at a steel-capped boot. An itchy, biting feeling burrows at the back of his head, growing more and more agitated with every second.

The redhead turned around, running a hand over his hair. "Sensei, are you really so desperate for my attention that you're gonna take a punch for it? This is really sad…" He bemoaned, acting as if he is the victim in this.

"That's not what I meant and you know it! I just punched you in the face! Why aren't you doing anything about it?" William came very close to losing his cool right now, knowing that Goda is just messing with him. Pointing an accusing finger at the teen, he continued. "Are you planning to do something else?! To further harass me?"

"Nope."

"...What?" The teacher couldn't believe his ears.

"Didn't you hear? I got nothing. Besides, why would I fight back if it didn't even hurt? You're not built for fighting, are you sensei?"

One sentence. One properly-timed sentence was all it takes to completely reduce William's confidence in himself to zero. So that punch, which he quite literally risked his job and his apartment in order to swing, ultimately amounts to nothing. Even that good feeling from earlier when his fist connects with Goda's face vanishes with the realization that his target wasn't even hurt in the slightest. He might as well smack him with rubber duckies and it would have the same effect.

He looks down…

"Boy, for a teacher, you sure are slow to figure that one out."

And then he looks back up again.

As Goda ignored him and turned around, William's hands felt as if they had gained sentience of their own, and moved without his control. One hand landed on the bully's shoulder and held onto it, while the other clenched into a fist, this time so tightly that his knuckles have turned white.

He called him weak. But then he called him slow. As in, an idiot. A moron. A dumb weakling who don't know his own strength and couldn't even throw a punch right. If there was one thing he despised more than anything in the world, it would be an insult to his intelligence. He clawed his way out of college. He worked day and night to earn that scholarship, until it was taken away from him. Under no circumstances can he be called 'dumb'.

In this very moment, whatever feelings of shame and humiliation then transformed into hate. And the amount of hate William harbored for Goda cannot be measured in any shape, form or number. There are a hundred thousand kilometers of nerves and veins that filled the human body, and if the word 'hate' was written on each and every angstrom of these tens of thousands of kilometers, it wouldn't even be equal to one-billionth of the hate he feels for Goda Takahashi in this microsecond.

He wanted to hurt him. He wanted to make him cry. To beg for his mercy, for the pain to stop. And he will enjoy every moment of it. Every bloody second of it.

They say everyone has a breaking point that could only be reached through extreme, emotional hell. William has long crossed his.

With dilated pupils, flared nostrils and his mind filled with nothing but a single-minded pursuit for Goda's cries of pain, he pulled the teen towards him and reeled his fist back. "WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!" Putting all of his upper body strength into his arm, William drove his fist straight into that same spot on Goda's ugly mug. His rage only adds more power into the strike.

Unlike his first attempt at punching, this one was far more successful: Goda's flesh and cheekbones visibly shuffles around the surface area of the punch before he is sent tumbling to the floor, rolling out of the classroom.

The two goons quickly went on the attack, with one tackling William to the ground. His rage still burning, William began to repeatedly elbow the teen pinning him down in the head until the pain became too overwhelming and he was forced to let go of the teacher.

Still lying on the floor, William saw the other goon running at him. His instincts kicked in and with his legs having the superior range, he aimed for the weakest spot on the charging teen. Namely, his knee. The second his foot hit the boy's right knee, he tripped and fell flat on his face right next to William.

With the two goons now clutching their respective body parts in pain, only Goda is left standing up. Clambering to his feet, William tries to blindside the bully, only to be met with a swift knee to the stomach. With the wind knocked out of it, the foreign teacher couldn't recover his strength in time to block the punch sent his way. Goda's own fist now made contact with his face, providing enough force to knock the teacher to the ground again.

As the usual taste of saliva was replaced with his own blood, William realizes that his nose has been broken. He tried to get back up, but Goda puts a stop to it by stomping on his legs, eliciting a pained grunt from the Aussie.

With his legs paralyzed by pain and his rage subsiding because of said pain, there wasn't much William could do other than let himself be hoisted upwards by the collar of his coat. It was then that he saw the full effect of his punch to Takahashi. A large bruise dominates most of his left cheek, while a thin stream of blood trickles down from a fresh suture on his upper lip.

"Yo, sensei…something bitin' you in the ass? Is one punch not enough for you? Damn, that second one actually hurts…" Goda spoke with a slow, deliberate tone, still keeping a hand on William's throat. The teacher struggled furiously, but in the end, it didn't even matter as Goda didn't even flinch from William's constant clawing at his arm. "You know, it's been a damn long time since I had a good workout…maybe you could help with that. After all, it's only fair."

With his hands now tugging onto William's coat, Goda turned around and threw him to the floor. Before the teacher could even get his bearings together to get up, the bully moved in and delivered a kick to his stomach. Coughing up mouthfuls of saliva, William tried to grab onto Goda's leg. He ended up getting a foot in the chest for his troubles.

Then, Goda whistled. "Hey, gonna need you guys for this too. I'm not so horrible as to not share the cream of the crop with my boys." The two goons, having fully recovered from the pains William inflicted on them, were more than happy to be joining their boss in whatever he has in store for the teacher.

William tried his best to fight back, but being both outnumbered and overpowered, he eventually resorted to trying to mitigate the damage by assuming a fetal position, feeling his body already starting to bruise up from all the relentless kicks. He could, from a technical standpoint, wrestle his way out of this and run away. But at this point…

He is too afraid to do so. Afraid of what Goda will do next if he catches up with him in his already hurt state. Afraid of what the school will do to him now that he has gone and sock a student in the face. Will he be penalized? Laid off, blacklisted even? The possibilities are endless, and none of them are good for him.

As such, all he could do at this point in time is to simply cover his own head and take the beating. Like a dog.

He hated feeling so powerless. So utterly unable to change the course of his fate. This could not be any further from the vision his dad had for him, from the few conversations they had together before his unfortunate passing. He envisioned his son to grow up and lead a successful and happy life, just like any parent would.

And yet, here William lies, being beaten up by his own students.

At times, he wished that he would lay down, close his eyes and go into a sleep he would never wake up from. It would certainly spare the world of a person as useless as him-

Wait, no. What is he saying?! He's not useless! He is not! Never will be! A useless person is those who get beaten down and do not have the strength to stand up again.

He shall be the one to stand up! "GAAH!" William mustered up a loud yell and extended his left hand towards Goda. He couldn't tell what he was grabbing, but it seemed to be just air.

Sursum et deorsum.

"What?" He had just heard a voice. It doesn't sound like anything on earth, and judging by the clearness of the voice…it came from his head? Is the beating being inflicted upon him finally giving him brain damage?

Sursum et deorsum.

"There it was again! But…what could it have meant?" It sounded superficially Latin to him, but he wasn't very well-versed in that language. Even then, how is a mysterious voice speaking gibberish to him supposed to help in this situation-

And then…he saw it. Through a blurry vision and only for a fraction of a second, but he saw it. His left arm, for that one moment, was enveloped in a blue light. Once the light died down…his arm changed. As a cold sensation washes over his arm, no longer was there a normal human arm coated in lightly tanned skin. Instead, there is now an extra arm on top fading in and out of his normal one like an apparition.

The extra arm itself looked rather mechanical in nature, with four rods strapped together and held apart far enough to form a forearm, with several rings of an indeterminate material surrounding two of the rods, which seems to act as the ulna. The hand was similarly robotic-looking and armored, with the back of the hand bearing the shape of a metal gray arrow, pointing down. The fingers are disproportionately long, almost twice as long as his original fingers, with each finger tipped with a sharp spike at the end.

There were clearly more details to it, but he couldn't make it out from all the shoes stomping on him. However, his interests in what the ghostly arm looked like pales in comparison to his interests in what happens next when the arm appears.

Upon its manifestation, the target that his arm is pointing at, Goda, suddenly buckles down and falls on his knees before falling flat on the floor with his face pressed against the marble. From the way he fell, it wasn't because he went limp or did it out of his own volition. In fact, it looked more like there was some kind of weight huge enough to physically force him down like that.

The two goons, seeing their boss suddenly keeling over like that, ceased their assault for one moment to help him up, visibly struggling in doing so. Fortunately for William, that one moment was more than enough for help to arrive. "Hey! What's going on over there?" It was Fujimura and boy, does she sound pissed. He could hear her footsteps rapidly advancing down the hallway, along with one other set of shoes.

"Shit, run!" He heard the voice of Goda next, clumsily getting up before running away, sounding rather…scared? That's new. What could that devil in school uniform possibly be scared of?

With the three delinquents leaving the vicinity, William watched as the extra arm fades out of existence, leaving behind naught but a cloud of light blue mist. Shortly after, Taiga appeared by his side, her youthful features marred with worry. "Brown-san! Are you okay? Did they hurt you badly? Any broken bones? Severed tendons? Bruises to the nuts-"

"I'm fine!" William unknowingly shouted, before noticing the look Taiga is giving him. To say what it is exactly would be hard, but he would say that the look is somewhere around 'wounded puppy' levels of making your heart bleed. "I mean…I'm fine. Alright. I'll live." He said with a calmer voice, hands reaching up to fix his ruined ponytail.

Taiga exhales in a comical fashion, placing a hand on her chest to show how relieved she was. Helping him up by the shoulder, the younger teacher smiles…before getting a clearer view of William's face. "William! Y-You're bleeding!" She exclaimed out of horror, using his first name for the first time.

The physics teacher was confused as to what she meant for a brief second before the aching feeling from his broken nose and bruised cheek sets in and he grimaces. Not wanting to show weakness in front of Taiga however, he turns away. "Oh, these? Nah, they're nothing. I'll live-"

"Stop saying that!" Taiga snaps with uncharacteristic anger, pouting with her cheeks puffed out like a pair of meat buns. "You're not fine! Your nose's bent in the wrong way!"

"Well, it's not like it can't be fixed. Let me just-"

"Nuh-uh!" The brunette puts an end to William's repeated efforts to not receive help by holding onto his sleeve. "You're coming with me to the nurse's office!"

"But-"

"And no returns."

After a couple of minutes worth of complaints and grumbling, William finally acquiesced to Fujimura's request. Well, mainly because she just lets everything he said come in one ear and out of another. However, in the midst of all this excessive attention Taiga is giving him, he didn't notice the figure accompanying her until now.

A tall, stone-faced man who is taller than William and is almost never seen without his signature black suit. Unlike Taiga, he never actually interacted all that much with Souichirou Kuzuki, despite the three of them sharing the same lounge room. "Kuzuki? Never thought you would show up as well."

The stern-faced Souichirou turned to him and gave a short, nearly imperceptible nod. "I heard the commotion and went to investigate. Not to mention, someone needs to catch those students." His response was short, blunt and to-the-point. Kuzuki is a very objective man, and William could respect that. Hell, he wished he could be as emotionally numb as Souichirou just so that Goda and his goons would leave him be.

"Uh…right. Yeah, you do that." William wasn't exactly sure of how to reply other than a curt handwave. The suited teacher said nothing as he passed William and Taiga and calmly walked down the hallway, eventually disappearing around the corner.

William watched him…before remembering what had conspired moments ago, when he was still at the mercy of Goda and his underlings. The strange voice whispering something in his mind. The artificial-looking extra arm that melds in with his normal arm like a ghost, passing through solid objects. Goda being forced on the ground by some invisible force as the ethereal arm appeared.

Just…what the hell was all of that? Is it all an illusion? His mind playing tricks on him? Or are the things his late grandmother preached to him on a daily basis…real? William being William, he is hard pressed to deny all of it, but that arm felt far too visceral to be a mere trick of the eyes. And that Goda fell over in such an unnatural way…it all created more and more questions for William.

These questions will have to wait though, as they have arrived at the infirmary. Taiga made William sit on the sick bed while she searched the medical cabinets for gauze and disinfectant. There weren't a whole lot of things for him to do other than to play around with the sheets of the bed, which have gone gray with age.

"Here it is!" Said a cheerful Fujimura, placing in front of him a tray full of medical supplies, plenty of which, to anyone with even a cursory knowledge of medicine, have nothing to do with mending a broken nose. Still, an effort was made.

"Right. Well, we just need a splint and some gauze." William's hand didn't even get close to the tray before it was smacked away by Taiga, who waved her finger in front of him.

"You leave the patching up to me! All you need to do is to relax…" The english teacher did a little pirouette on the spot, her voice became as soft as a feather to presumably create a more relaxing air. "And let Fujimura, doctor extraordinaire, work her magic on you!"

"If I have to give someone a scalpel, you're the last one I would think of." William deadpanned with half-lidded eyes, genuinely doubtful that Fujimura could actually do something that requires a certain degree of precision without messing it up spectacularly. Not counting her skills at picking her rice bowls dry, of course.

"Brown-san, you meanie! What does that supposed to mean?" Taiga spoke indignantly like the twenty-four-year-old womanchild that she is. After washing her hands and putting on some disinfectant, she carefully placed her fingers on William's bent nose, touching the torn skin around the bridge with surprising gentleness.

William flinched somewhat at her touch. Her dainty fingertips felt cold and foreign on his skin at first, further exacerbated by the disinfectant, but eventually…it started to feel alright. Good, even. He has always imagined Fujimura to be the type of woman who isn't afraid of leaping headfirst into a fistfight, so the feeling of her soft palms kneading against his cheeks while she slowly pushed the bridge of his nose back into shape was far more pleasurable than he had expected.

However, Taiga accidentally pushed one spot a little too hard, thus replacing the pleasing feeling with a sting of pain. "Ow! Take it easy, woman!"

"My bad! Let me just make it up to you…" Taiga whispered in response, going a little slower this time. Soon enough, the cast was finished with the younger teacher applying the last few strips of bandage to hold the gauze in place.

"There we go! How does it look?" An excited Taiga brandishes a mirror and holds it in front of William for him to inspect the state of his appearance.

"Well…it couldn't have been any worse than me in the mornings." Replied William with a sardonic edge in his voice, gently touching the bandages and the gauze. The positioning is a tiny bit off, but otherwise…she did a perfectly passable job. If this is her first time mending a broken nose, then he must say she has a natural knack for it. "Still, it looks fine to me."

"Of course it does! Who do you think you're talking to?" Taiga spoke haughtily, crossing her arms and laughing like a noblewoman.

"You?" William raised an eyebrow, tiredness coming off of him like a radioactive element. A spluttering Taiga simply gives him another mock punch on the arm. Letting off a dry chuckle, he turns to her again, though without the witty replies in mind this time. "But still, where did you learn to do that?"

"Well…I used to practice kendo when I was younger. Injuries happen all the time, so I gotta learn how to patch myself up. You could even say I got experience with getting hurt!" Taiga unveiled a tidbit of her past to William, her usually loud and bombastic voice now significantly more subdued.

"Is it the one with bamboo swords and all?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's another reason not to piss her off." The Aussie made a mental note to himself, swallowing a particularly big glob of saliva down his throat. Tapping his fingers on his thighs, William pondered something: why is she being so friendly and chummy with him? Sure, maybe that's just Taiga in her natural habitat, but nobody does anything without a reason. Even his own mother taking care of him was because she felt obligated to as a mother. Not because of love or any of that sappy stuff, but because she must.

What is Taiga's drive behind all of these pleasantries? "Can I ask you something, Fujimura?" Hearing her last name, the youthful teacher turned around and nodded her head.

"Why did you help me? You got nothing out of this, and it's not like I'm gonna pay you back." William asked with scathing honesty, wanting to see what kind of excuse she would come up with.

For a fleeting moment, Taiga looked contemplative…before smiling at him again. "Because we're friends, that's why!"

William blinked once. Is she being serious? That couldn't have been it. "That's it?"

"Well…" He knew it. There was a catch. "That, and because you seem like a guy who knows a lot of stuff. I get a bit forgetful at times, so when the time comes, I can always ask you about it! But mostly because I'm your friend." Okay, that wasn't much of a catch, but at least it is a 'reason' that he could get behind, that he could comprehend.

After all, true selflessness is nothing but a myth. "I see." Even though she didn't exactly do it for no reason, her reason is understandable to him. Besides, she did help him and it's not like her reason for being his friend is of any harm to him. Thus, he figured that the least he could do for her is a simple 'thank you'. "Thanks…Taiga." Said William as his gaze was cast on the sterile walls of the infirmary, though his quiet voice and accent made her name come out as the phonetically-similar 'tiger'.

A solid ten seconds would go by before William realizes that Taiga is being noticeably quiet. And then he heard a sniffle. Is she…crying? Turning around, his suspicions were confirmed. With her face beet red and droplets of tears forming at the corners of her eyes, she finally opens her mouth to speak. "Not you too…"

"What?" Asked William, having no idea what she meant by those words. Did he say something wrong?

"E-Even you call me that? And I thought we were f-friends…" Taiga barely manages to finish her sentence before she breaks down into a sobbing mess.

"Fujimura, you're not making any sense. What are you talking about?"

"You just call me by that name! You just called me 'tiger'!" She exclaims melodramatically, placing a hand over her forehead and leaning backwards to make it seem like she is about to collapse out of shock.

"No I didn't. I said 'Taiga'!" William spoke again, his Australian accent slightly mingling in again and it came out as 'tiger'.

"There! You called me that again! WAAAAH!" Bursting into tears, Taiga ran out of the infirmary and left the hopelessly confused William behind. "Fujimura is SAD!"

"What the- Fujimura! Fujimura, calm down for goodness' sake!" An exasperated William as he attempted to chase after her, but once he got out of the nurse's office, she had already disappeared. "What was all of that about?" He thought, looking down on the now-empty hallway while shaking his head. The way Taiga's brain functions is just a complete enigma to him.

Shrugging and scratching his neck, William decided that the best thing to do, now that Taiga is gone, is to walk back to his class…which likely doesn't want him back anyway considering that his secret hobby of consuming illustrated publications of questionable nature is out.

For most of the trip back there, he couldn't help but stare at his left arm. He was so focused into the limb that he didn't even paid attention to whoever that is about to crash into him.

"I see Fujimura has taken care of you." Souichirou's icy voice immediately stops William in his tracks. There stood the stern teacher, now accompanied by Goda and his goons from earlier. While he couldn't care less for the two lackeys, what surprised him was that Goda was standing behind Kuzuki with his arms behind his back, standing there and obediently following the history teacher around.

"How the hell did you...?" Asked William, wiping his eyes in disbelief at the notoriously anti-authority Goda as quiet and submissive as a potted plant. "How did you catch him? And get him to follow you around? Without running away?"

Souichirou glanced at the foreigner, before adjusting his glasses. "I merely exerted the amount of force allowed to capture them." He answered mirthlessly, fixing the lapels on his suit while looking back at the delinquents every now and then to make sure the idea of running away never cross their minds.

William was a bit disappointed by the response, but he wasn't about to let that make him less happy right now than before. His most hated enemy in this place has been apprehended, at long last. Finally, justice prevails. "I have to say...bloody good job, man. You done a great, no, an excellent job." Said William, his mask of professionalism cracking as he couldn't contain his excitement at seeing Goda getting his comeuppance for once.

"It's a teacher's job to uphold the rules set out by the school and discipline his students." Souichirou replied without an essence of soul in his words, walking past William with the small conga line of frightened punks following him. With a slight smile on his face, he returned to class with a good mood...

That is, until Souichirou called for his name. "Brown, won't you be coming with me to the principal's office as well?"

"Oh, uh...no, it's fine, you can go ahead. I have to get back to class anyway." Replied a nervous William, feeling the blood draining from his legs and leaving his knees weak. "Just tell the principal I'm fine. No serious injuries save for a broken nose-"

"That's not what I meant." There it is. The words he had feared Souichirou would say. "From what I've heard, you are the one who started the altercation. So, you are just as guilty as they are."

"W-What? Kuzuki, I'm the one getting beaten up! You saw it!" A frustrated William makes aggressive hand movements towards Goda and his underlings, before calming himself down. He knew that being angry with someone like Souichirou is like throwing a rubber ball at a stone wall. It just doesn't get through. "Look...can you just cover me this one time? Please? For our cameraderie as teachers, suffering this hell together?"

He hoped that this would at least tug some sympathy strings from Souichirou, to let him have the slice of a cake just once.

He was wrong. If anything, Kuzuki even seem mildly annoyed by his words. "We are teachers, Brown. We are meant to be impartial and just. If I allowed exceptions between our numbers, then what right do I have to call myself a role model for the students? I apologized, Brown, but you're coming with me."

"But-"

"Now."

The glare that Souichirou gave him vaporized any resistance left in the physics teacher as he bit down on his lower lip, defeated. He could see where the suited man is coming from, but...he still felt like he was the one who was wronged in this whole mess. After all, if Goda hasn't been his usual self and insulted him right to his face, or punch that orange-haired kid in the gut, then things would have been different.

"Don't test my patience, Brown."

"Alright. I'm coming." He spat out those words like it was the purest venom, sizzling into the floor. With a balled fist, William begrudgingly joined Souichirou's side and walked with him to the principal's office. Glancing back, he saw that Goda was giving him smug grin, knowing that in the end, he won anyway by getting William into trouble.

The teacher has to physically wrangle his own arm to stop it from throwing another punch.

-0-

The clock was mere seconds away from announcing that school is over, and William could hear every click that the minute and the second hand made. He could taste it. His freedom. To move away from this place. Besides, given that the principal spended the entire afternoon yelling at him for 'misconduct and aggravated assault of a student' while throwing in some big words like 'disgraceful' and 'incompetent', he is quite sure that pompous old cunt would wanted him gone anyway.

Staring at the clock mounted on the wall, William Brown sat at his table, fingers impatiently tapping on the wooden surface of the desk as his hand rubs the bandages on his nose out of boredom. All of his things are packed neatly into his briefcase already, and he has made sure that nothing that can be used to blackmail or incriminate him are left in the interior of the lounge room.

That includes Taiga's water bottle that is left several centimeters too close to his table, which can be used to start a rumor about him and Taiga being anything more than acquaintances for the virtue of having something that your lips made contact with being so near, as well as an eraser that he borrowed directly from Souichirou, which presents an opportunity for some students to make up the claim that they touched hands.

Thus, the former's water bottle is now hidden in a faraway corner, whereas William has painstakingly discarded the original eraser and went out to buy a new one for Souichirou.

And about the magazine…the less said about it, the better.

He then glances around the room. Is there anything left to do? Aside from the stack of test papers he needs to grade, of course. None…the room seems to be clear, and disquietly quiet.

Satisfied with his environment, William returns to his current task of watching time go by, noting down every single movement the clock makes all while counting down.

Three…

Two…

"One." Once the word exits his mouth, the bell predictably rings. Throwing his hands up in triumph, William stood up and shoved the stack of papers into his briefcase not caring if they were crumpled up in the process.

Taking in the musty smell of the lounge room once last time, William swung the door open and walked out confidently…right into Taiga, who stood just far enough from the door that it didn't hit her. "Brown-san!"

The physics teacher leaped at the sight of her, his heart nearly jumping out of his chest. He didn't expect to see Taiga again so soon, considering that he said something to make her run away crying. Though, given that she's all smiles now, William assumed that she has gotten over it. "Oh, uh…Fujimura. Hello again."

"I was looking for you! Wanna hang out after work? I got some free time, so we can even hit the pub tonight!" Said a hyperactive Taiga, unflinching and equal parts impenetrable to William's withering glare.

"Fujimura, it's only Monday. I don't even touch alcohol until at least Friday. Control yourself."

"Aww, come on! It's gonna be fun! A chance to let loose and relax every once in a while with a friend like myself and you're just gonna let it go?" Said Taiga, while adopting a pose where her upper body edges forward away from her lower half with her hand placed on her chest, shooting William a feline-like grin.

William then subconsciously realizes that he's making a lot of comparisons to a cat when it comes to Taiga. Why is that?

"Yes, I will let it go, because I have work to do." Replied the Australian, unclipping his briefcase and showing her the papers he has to work through for the night. The English teacher whistled at the sheer size of the stack. "Sorry to disappoint."

Taiga looked downcast, but quickly returned to her usual cheery disposition. "Oh no no, it's fine! We can always do this some other time."

"Maybe." William answered vaguely, peering down his watch. The more time he spends around here, the less time he'll have to mark the test papers, equals less time for him to enjoy himself. Besides, Taiga's constant presence was beginning to annoy him. "I will see you tomorrow then."

"Okay! Catch ya later, Brown-san!" Taiga gave him one last energy-filled wave before hopping away with a light spring in her steps. William didn't take a second look at her and left the building. For some reason, a nagging feeling appeared on the back of his head when he mentioned 'work' to her.

Was he forgetting something?

As William walks past the school gates, he finds himself on the same road as two female students, close enough to them to hear their conversation. Naturally, he covers his face with his briefcase. Who knows how far the news in his classroom has gotten?

"I knew this new place up in the district near Shinto, their drinks are so, so good!"

"Really? Where is it?"

"Oh, it's right next to another place called Copenhagen. You can't miss it!"

"Copenhagen, Copenhagen…" The name reminded the teacher of something. Of a pub, up town, that he had a part-time job at to make ends meet.

And he is still here. "Shit."

His teaching job alone was never enough to support himself financially, so, after being threatened by the landlord a couple of times, he decided to embark around town for work. Eventually, he found one at a little place called Copenhagen. It was some sort of hybrid between a liquor shop and a pub, and the old man owning the place and his daughter was nice enough to accept William's offer to help on the spot.

About the nature of said job though…by God, he hoped no one found out about it.

Running over to an open street, William took a two-minute taxi ride to the district, before resuming the rest of his trip on foot. Once he arrived at Copenhagen, he was already out of breath a minute ago. Yet, his desire to keep himself from the brink of homelessness pushes him to continue against the pains in his tendons.

William leans against the door to get some oxygen back into his lungs, unaware of a shadow creeping up on him from the interior of the establishment. As their arms swoop around his vulnerable body, their position hunching over into a predatory stance, they close in, whispering words into his ear to break him. "Boo!"

The scare would have worked on some, but William was so fatigued at this point that he couldn't even find the strength to humor someone. That someone was a young woman about his age, with long, flowing hair that extended all the way down to her back and kept in long braids. Two perfectly even fringes flutter above her eyes, which are always kept squinted, giving the impression that her eyes are closed from afar. Like all employees, she wears the pub's standard uniform: black trousers, button-up shirt and apron with the words 'Copenhagen' written on it with stylized letters, complete with a caricature of a cat with freakishly big eyes.

William had always found the cat to be rather creepy, but given that this place is his other stable source of income, he puts up with it.

"There you are, you lazybones!" Said the woman with a tone of mock anger, still clamping her arms around his shoulders from behind. The teacher felt his breathing becoming heavier as the outlines of her considerable bust were pressed against his clothed back. "Where have you been all day?"

"Uh…teaching? At Homurahara? As a day job?" William replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world, looking at her as if she was an idiot for even asking. "And I tripped. Down the stairs."

"Oh really?" She asks him right back…before bursting into a small fit of mirthful laughter as she releases William from her hold. "I'm just messing with you! Anyway, glad to see you made it! I was beginning to think you might take the day off. Also, is that nose really fine?"

William shot her an insulted look. Who does she think he is, some unemployed bum only seeking to make a quick buck? "And not getting paid for it? No way, Hotaruzuka." Then, he remembers her comment about his busted nose. "It's nothing. It'll heal."

"Man, you really love money huh? Well, take it easy Scrooge." Otoko Hotaruzuka moved right next to him and gave him a supportive pat on the pat. "I know you're struggling with financial issues and all, but sometimes it's better to live life slowly, you know?"

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one who's getting their water cut off twice a week. You're not the one going to bed with little more than a biscuit for dinner." William grumbled, moving into the shop to take his uniform. While putting on the apron, he continued. "And I don't love money. I just need it."

Otoko's jaws edge around uncomfortably, before she gives William a brief rub on the shoulders. "Aww, you poor thing. If you want to, I can offer you a place to stay here. Only me and Dad live here, so there's plenty of space to go around. Dad is a bit of a skeptic, but leave the persuasion for me. I knew his weak spots. "

He knew she only wanted to help. And it was such a good deal for him too: a larger space to stretch his legs, plus he will get actual, proper meals. So why doesn't he take it up?

Because then he will be 'dependent' on Otoko. She becomes his crutch. And to be dependent on something means you no longer can help yourself, it means you are too weak and feeble to do so. And William is anything but that. Furthermore, should she ever become compromised, it means he will be dragged down as well.

So he is better off alone. "Thanks, but…I can manage, Hotaruzuka. I managed to survive this long after all." He looks at her with a solemn expression, but quickly shrugs it off and adopts a more impassive one. "Anyway, time to get to work." He said, picking up a rag and a bottle of cleaning solution.

"If you insist…" Otoko trailed off. She was more than a bit irritated that William guards every aspect of his life without letting anyone else help him, but it is his decision and she respected it. Still, she had hoped he would open up more about things like this. For the past few months he had been working for their place, Otoko had only ever seen him do four things here: Arrive, do his job, get paid and then go home. He never interacted with anyone unless absolutely necessary.

And she, along with everyone else, thinks that it's not a healthy way to live.

With Otoko still inside, William went outside and sprayed down the windows of the shop with the cleaning solution, creating a foamy white sheen that drips down to the windowsills. Then, he begins wiping them off with the rag.

While his outward appearance suggests that he is perfectly emotionless while doing this, the truth could not be any less far. In his mind, he was begging and prostrating to whatever deity watching him from above to not let anyone from the school catch a glimpse of him out here cleaning windows. A man of his intellect, be reduced to wiping children's handprints off of a liquor shop's window…it is truly degrading and beneath someone like him. And if any of the students found him here, they would doubtless make a clown out of him for it.

William instinctively began to scrub faster, his fear of being discovered like this growing with every second that passes. "Oh, please don't find me please don't find me please don't find me…" He repeated that mantra inside his head, not even realizing that he has been cleaning the same spot over and over again.

It has only been five minutes ever since he started his work, but it felt like an entire hour to him. During the time his back was turned, those kids have probably swarmed this place by then, and once they have seen this pitiful state of existence he lives in, their respect for him would plummet even further. He will not have that! And thus, his paranoia overtakes him and William turns around.

…

And there was no one, save for a couple of pedestrians walking past and paying him no attention. His eyes darted right. And then left. And then up. And then down. The four cardinal directions showed no particular eyes on him, so that means the diagonal directions are where he will be watched from secret!

Like a madman, William leaped from his position and did a full circle, watching every direction.

Nothing. No eyes on him.

Feeling that he was breathing a little too fast, the teacher sucked air through his mouth and exhaled through his nose. "It's alright." He said to himself. "Nobody's here to see you like this. Knowing Otoko, maybe she won't reveal this to anyone either." He tries his best to assure himself that he is safe. He just needs to calm down.

Returning to his window-cleaning duties, William was moving on to the second panel when he laughed, jokingly scolding himself for even thinking of such an absurd thing. Surely no student would come here, this is a liquor shop and a pub after all. Humming a tune belonging to one of his favorite songs, William would have continued the rest of his shift with a ghost of a smile on his face…

"Hey…is that you, Brown-sensei?" All the colors drained from his face that very instant as his nerves shot to the clouds. That voice didn't sound like Goda, thank fuck for that. But it still sounds young, and has a particular baritone to it that fits every syllable on the word 'arrogance'.

Turning his head around at a snail's pace, William saw a teen that, from the top down, looked functionally similar to one of the better students in his class, Shirou Emiya. A major distinguishing feature however would be his locks of deep blue hair that superficially resembles a bundle of seaweed to William, as well as a face that is simultaneously haughty and attractive to scrotums. He was dressed in the normal Homurahara uniform for boys, and was accompanied by three other girls.

Snap!

The sound of a camera flashing entered his ear cavities. His eyes edging painfully to the side, William could see that one of the girls had just taken a picture of him with an incredulous yet amused expression plastered on her face. Out of pure shock and horror, his jaw slackens.

"Keeping the windows shiny, hmm? Oh, what a pitiful sight, seeing teachers, ever the respected profession, become society's errant marionettes." The blue-haired student muses, with the girls around him nodding in conjunction like mindless puppets.

"Oh my god, well said Shinji-kun!"

"Shinji-kun has such a way with words~"

"You won't believe who we just found out here, cleaning windows." The girl who took a picture of him has flipped out her phone to gossip with whoever that is on the other end. "It's Brown-sensei…yes, that guy from physics and maths! The guy who's always acting like he's so high and mighty!"

William gave the boy, now identified as Shinji, a look that would kill an elephant if such a thing was possible. Turning back to his work, William tried and failed to block out all the cacophonies of mocking voices and condescending eyes echoing in his head like a wasp that wouldn't leave your house no matter how wide the front door is open. The embarrassment he is experiencing now is so extreme that he thought he might just be crushed under its weight.

Even when Shinji and his posse had long left the scene, William still gritted his teeth as he worked through the windows, unbeknownst to the fact that his nails have dug so deep into the flesh of his clenched hand that blood has been drawn.

-0-

Where…

Where is he?

What is this place?

How did he get here?

Lightlessness. That is all that he sees. At least, until his eyes adjust better to his surroundings. It is not so much pure darkness as there is a very, very dim light illuminating the space that he finds himself currently floating in. Fractured pieces of stone flow idly as William rotates his body around, trying to find out exactly where he is.

The last thing he remembered was that he went home at eight, threw off all of his dirty clothes to the floor and went to bed after pouring himself a cup of tea and three biscuits for dinner. Strangely enough, he didn't feel hungry. Is this a dream? Must have been, but considering that he is in full control of his body here…

"Hello?" He called out to the infinite nothingness and the rocks near him. No replies.

All of the sudden, the deep, dark void switches from a muted black and gray to a brilliant, intense red as William felt his limbs getting heavier and heavier, like great blocks of lead were being chained to them. The forces acting on them were so great that he was convinced they may get torn off at any moment. Once the weights have grown sufficiently massive that no more movement could be attempted, William begins to rapidly descend the void, and unto the dark depths below.

"AAAAAAAAAAAH!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, the air resistance, which shouldn't even exist in a realm where there is no gravity to hold the particles together, causing the skin around his face to become slightly distended.

And then, it stopped. The untouchable forces cease to act upon his mortal body and he finds himself in a different place. Now he seems to be in an abandoned castle of sorts, filled with broken lances with desecrated pictures still framed on stone walls, bathed in a shadowy darkness. The ground on which he lies however, appears pitch black.

With only his head as the non-immobilized part of his body, William slightly edges his neck up to look around. He spots a figure in front of him, from a distance away. Sitting on the blackened floor was a feminine figure, a simple piece of velvet cloth covering her maiden parts while her naked back was exposed. A lengthy, flowing mane of silver hair carpeted and wrapped around her body like a blanket.

But one thing, and one thing only about her that overwhelms William with an emotion the second he laid his eyes upon her figure.

Her eyes. A piercing blackness the color of the empty vacuum of space, sending arrows upon arrows of naught but one emotion into his heart: Fear. Utter, crippling and primal fear.

Primal fears are usually the same for each species. Some feared the darkness, afraid of what unearthly forces awaited them as their sense of perception vanished. Some feared fire, terrified at the prospects of being consumed by a raging inferno and had their flesh and bones charred dry and burned to dust, erasing them from this existence.

But all of those fears pale in the terror William is experiencing. However, he is unable to tear his sight away from her. It was not so much fatal curiosity as two hands physically holding his head in place.

And if that wasn't enough…the feminine figure stood up, the velvet fabric falling gently off her form. Undeterred by being as naked as a newborn infant, she begins walking towards the unmoving William, one deliberate step at a time.

He would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that she was beautiful. Her flawless skin, emphasized the color of ivory, shines in the relative lack of light of the area. Her body appeared to have been handmade and chiseled by the goddesses themselves, with every detail of her bosom, posterior and maidenhood highlighted to a perfect degree. Her face was of ethereal, unreal beauty. Her small nose, thin lips and alluring gaze only served to further enhance her features.

In short, she was the epitome of beauty.

And it just makes her all the more terrifying to William. Not because of her looks, but because of this sheer, unyielding and all-around oppressive air surrounding her, shutting out any light source in its vicinity and grinding the wills of those who dare to oppose her to oblivion.

As she reached his prone body, the figure lowered herself on top of him and let her vivacious body straddle his own. Any lesser man would have been consumed by lust and arousal at this point…but not William, as there was nothing on his mind but fear. He tried to yell, he tried to scream. But nothing came out but bile rising in his throat. He wanted to vomit.

With his sense of control faltering, their faces finally met, with hers hovering above his, their lips a hair's breadth away from touching. As her vivid, iridescent onyx eyes became locked with his scared blue ones, her lips opened.

And contorted into a smile, going from ear to ear in the most unerring way possible. "As fate ordains…I have found you."

And William knew nothing more, as before his very eyes, reality broke down.