A sheathed SWORD never sleeps, it simply waits…
Emiya Shirou breathed out a sigh of frustration. He sat alone in a dark room filled with smithing implements. He closed his eyes, letting the fleeting light hone his senses. He breathed in measured rhythm. He stretched out his hand, tracing the shape of the weapons laid out on his worktable. The outline of their metal blades felt cool to his finger tips. He heaved a sigh and whispered.
"Trace on."
Blue lines of power lit up the room, running across Shirou's arm and then over Crescent Rose. Beads of sweat formed over Shirou's face as he examined the weapon. He saw into its history, creation, cracks and battle records.
End of the line, Red.
Shirou frowned, but continued his reinforcement. In a few seconds, he found the unseen holes inside the weapon and filled them with prana. He polished its blade, adjusted its gears and bolstered its strength.
"Done." Shirou opened his eyes and set Ruby's weapon aside. "Next one up."
Shirou redid the steps to his process. This time on the silver-gray rapier.
GROWL!
Go, Weiss!
Shirou tensed at the image of a feral black hog, a boarbatusk, charging straight at him, its chalk white tusks mere inches away from his face. The experience of facing the beast in a classroom full of students rushed through him. He gritted his teeth, but finished his reinforcement. He moved on to the last one, Yang's gauntlets, Ember Selica. He tuned the firing mechanism and fortified the metal's durability and strength.
I! Hope! You're! Hungry!
Shirou witnessed with his own eyes the image of an irate blonde pounding the living hell into a giant black bird, her fist feeding the creature's gaping beak with explosion after explosion. He exhaled and finished the reinforcement. He opened his eyes and looked down at the weapons laid out before him, their histories all revealed to him now.
"Just what have I been doing all this time?" He muttered under his breath, clenching his fists.
He shook his head, clearing the clutter of any old dreamy ideals. He left his workshop and stepped into the kitchen. Rewiring his brain into focusing on brewing tea, Shirou worked like a precise machine, preparing the tea leaves and boiling water.
But he still couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty rising within him. His left arm throbbed, crying out for the heat of battle. He closed his eyes, and flinched. He heard his voice again.
Fighting for others, but not yourself, is nothing but hypocrisy.
Illyasviel von Einzbern skipped along the stone-paved streets of Vale. Her snow white hair dancing in the air like lambent rays of sunlight. The stack of papers in her hands tremored with her excitement, but nevertheless stayed firmly in place between her fingers.
"It's this way!" she called out to the girl behind her carrying a similar stack of papers, the kind person who offered to carry half the original stack.
"Slow down, Illya," Blake said, finally catching up to the little girl. "There's no need to hurry."
Illya hummed, placing a finger on her lip. "I suppose that's true." She nodded and walked alongside the taller girl.
"Do you like taking your time with things, Blake?" Illya asked, looking up. Her cat ears flapping.
"It's not that. I just don't want you rushing headfirst into a crime scene, Illya," Blake said, gazing down at the girl. "You could get hurt."
Illya pondered the notion of her getting hurt. Certainly there were plenty of potential dangers in Vale, let alone Remnant. But to be honest, she could probably handle most of them on her own. However that was not to be the case. Per her brother's instructions, she was to hide behind the facade of a defenseless little girl. Better to be overlooked than be a potential target, he had told her.
"You have a point. I'll be more careful, Blake," Illya conceded with a sigh.
They walked in silence for a bit. The energy Illya had emanated earlier gradually receded within.
Blake fidgeted, feeling partly responsible for killing the mood. "So, um, how old are you, Illya?" It seemed like a viable question at the time.
"Hm? I'm eleven years old," Illya offered, grinning. Given her current body, that was the age she and Shirou had agreed on.
"I see…" Blake said slowly. She considered the number in her head. Eleven, just two digits away from single digit nine, and nearly the end of childhood, approaching the teens. "What does your family think of you working on the streets?"
Blake herself recalled her father and mother's stern disapproval of her more radical activities with the White Fang, protesting on the streets and joining rallies. Now, she worried over another faunus handing out fliers by herself. Almost full circle.
"My brother's against it. He thinks I should be more carefree for a girl my age. He wants me to have more fun…" Illya frowned into the distance.
"Sounds like your brother just wants what's best for you. What's wrong with that?" Blake asked. She looked at the little girl curiously. She really was much too young to be out on her own. Case in point, the incident earlier. If Blake hadn't stepped in at the time…
"No, Shirou worrying over me is fine. In fact, I'd prefer it. But you see, Shirou has a bad habit of disregarding his own needs for me," Illya said quietly, clutching her stack of papers tightly. "I don't want him to sacrifice anything more for me."
There was a certain softness in the girl's voice. Like a tragedy entangled into her every word, threatening to dip her soul into a downward spiral of self-loathing.
"Illya…" Blake could only manage to whisper.
"That's why I decided to help him however I can!" She nodded her head, determined. Blake swore she saw benevolent light radiate from the girl's smile. "I'll be his pillar of support so he can stand properly."
Seeing the little girl's gleaming ruby eyes, Blake was reminded of a certain teammate of hers, a certain energetic red reaper that smiled in the face of adversity.
"You must really love your brother," Blake remarked.
"Yup. I love him the most!" Illya nodded her head proudly.
They walked together in tandem, weaving through the busy crowds of people. Their destination not so distant anymore.
"Do you have any siblings, Blake?" Illya asked, her face a bit rosy, having finally realized how much she talked about her own brother.
"No." Blake shook her head. "I'm an only child. So I'm afraid I've never experienced the love you have for your brother." As she said the words, a name surfaced in her head, a memory she had buried away and refused to recall up until now. "Though, there was a girl I grew up with."
"Hm?" Illya craned her neck to listen.
Blake wondered what led her to opening up to a little girl she had only met moments ago. Perhaps it was the allure of sharing a story to a stranger, another faunus even, a story that would hold no weight on their shoulders. Or maybe it was the charming innocence Illya oozed. Regardless, the words slipped out of her mouth.
"Her name was Ilia." Blake smirked knowingly at the girl's raised eyebrows. "Yes, you two share a name."
Confusion colored Illya's face, but she kept silent and waited for more.
"We grew up together in the same neighborhood and along with the other kids around our age, we banded together in a group. We spent all our time fighting for what we thought was right," Blake said.
They veered right and passed a gang of kids playing. Their eager shouts shaking up the streets.
"We were young and foolhardy," Blake continued, her eyes glancing at passing shadows. "We thought if we just kept on crying out our grievances, things would go our way. But eventually we realized how powerless we truly were."
Blake peeked down at the stack of fliers she carried, her eyes settling on the image of a drawn steel sword. "That's when Ilia and I decided to take matters into our own hands."
The two of them stopped before a line of yellow tape, barring them a single step further. "But a while back, things got too out of hand. We argued about we were doing and what was right. We had a disagreement and we haven't spoken a word to each other since…"
The words of Blake's story gradually sunk away as she stared at the sorry site before her. It was a dust shop ransacked late last night. Its windows freshly shattered, a desert of jagged shards sprinkled on the ground. The walls had been torn down to reveal the store's utter emptiness, all its merchandise stolen. By the broken door frame, an old man was talking to an officer. His expression livid. He pointed animatedly at a scratch on the door, a single claw mark carved into the jagged wood.
"The White Fang."
Blake held her breath. She glanced at her smaller companion.
Illya studied the crime scene curiously. "That's who the men are pinning the blame on." The little girl's cat ears wriggled, endeavoring to pick up any more gossip from the few policemen on site.
Blake frowned. She knew she had said too much but even worse, she had realized the folly of her actions. Bringing a faunus child to a White Fang crime scene, a place marred with radical violence and hate, was a mistake. If she weren't careful, the worst case scenario could play out and she might steer Illya down the wrong path.
However, the young cat faunus in question simply opened her mouth in wonder, her ruby eyes glazing over the whole tragedy. "Why would anyone need that much dust?"
Why indeed?
"What's this supposed to do?"
Ruby studied the blade in her hand. It was a simple dagger with minimal design. A black leather grip and a sharp tongue of steel. She raised it once, twice then clutched it tight and darted her hands in a flurry. The blade hissed as it pierced through air. She flicked it left, then right. Her eyebrows furrowed.
"Stop. What do you think you're doing?" A shrill voice rang across the store. Ruby looked behind her to find an icy heiress pointing a stare her way.
"I'm trying to find where Shirou hid the gun in this thing," Ruby said, her eyes trained on the humble dagger. "It's got to be in here somewhere."
"Well, what if it's not? Can't it just be a regular dagger?" Weiss argued.
"Psh, yeah right. Regular dagger. Good one, Weiss," Ruby snickered at the silly idea. Coming from a girl whose rapier had a gun barrel lodged into its guard, the notion of the dagger just being "a regular dagger" held little water.
Besides, most, if not all, weapons on Remnant sported more than one form. Scythes that turned into snipers, swords that folded into guns. Such weapons were in vogue, especially among Huntsmen. Ruby figured the goods of a top notch weapons store such as UBW would be no exception.
The inquisitive girl inspected the blade more closely. Closing one eye, she rattled the tiny thing, placing her ear precariously close to its edge. She swore she could almost hear some kind of gear or spring sound inside.
"Hm?" It was hardly visible but as Ruby gazed down at the weapon, she noticed the subtle gap between the blade and the guard…
"Ooh, what's that?!" Before she could inspect the dagger, Ruby spotted another new weapon kept at the lowest shelf. She dashed for it, leaving the dagger spinning in the air.
"Hey!" Weiss yelled as she fumbled to catch the spinning blade. The tip of steel bouncing off her aura-protected hands too many times.
Ruby paid no heed to the girl's cries and crouched down. Her eyes transfixed on the new weapon before her. A gun that doubled as a bow?
Weiss crossed her arms over the black UBW apron she wore. She had found a spare one lying behind the counter. "Ugh, I swear your can be such a child. At least put away your toys when you're done. Need I remind you that Shirou entrusted to us the welfare of his store?" She scolded Ruby, waving the dagger as if it were an extension of her wagging finger.
"Excuse me, I'd like to make a purchase please," a voice interrupted the two before things could escalate.
"Yes, right this way please." Weiss switched gears, leading the customer to the counter amicably. She handled the transaction flawlessly, following the guide Shirou had left behind. The customer now satisfied went out the door. Weiss sighed in content.
Yang whistled, joining her behind the counter. She also wore a UBW black apron over her clothes. Her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. "Somebody's really getting into their work. I gotta admit, I never thought I'd see you work a day in your life like this."
"If we're going to do this, we're doing it right," Weiss declared, raising her chin. This wasn't a responsibility to be taken lightly, not when Shirou and Illya's livelihood was on the line.
"Oh, lighten up." Yang punched the girl's shoulder playfully. "Our 'shift' ends in fifteen minutes and we've done a bang-up job of running the place so far, haven't we?"
"Hmph," Weiss conceded. She glanced back to their other more enamored teammate, who was still busying herself with another new weapon. "Ruby, where did you pick this up from?" Weiss raised the dagger she had caught oh so gracefully moments ago.
"Forgot." Ruby shrugged, not even turning her back.
"You what?" Weiss twitched. Her partner was impossible at times. "Fine, never mind." She sighed and set the blade down on the counter. She would have to ask Shirou later where to return it to, not wanting to ruin any sense of order UBW managed to maintain. The store was already a crazy chest of weapons as it was.
"It's impressive that Shirou can run a business like this at his age," Yang said, leaning her elbows on the counter. Her lilac eyes breathed in all of the weapons, especially the bladed ones. "He doesn't look that much older than us, but he's already making and selling all this."
"Indeed," Weiss said. "I wonder how much loan and capital Shirou needed just to get this all set up. Does he have an investor of some kind? Or maybe some kind of special patron…"
"I don't know about any of that, but the building must've been pretty cheap, at least." Yang scrunched her brows in an effort to remember. "Didn't the White Fang rob this place a few weeks ago?"
Weiss nodded. "Yes, I heard about that from Illya as well. She didn't seem to know the White Fang were behind it though."
"Most ordinary people wouldn't."
"I hope so," Weiss said, quietly looking down.
Yang tilted her head, giving her friend a look over. "Something on your mind? Y'know I'm always all ears."
Weiss remained silent. Her eyes drifted to the still door ahead of them as if she were waiting for something, or someone. Eventually she looked away when nothing came.
That was when a sudden chime rang across the room. The two girls stiffened momentarily, their ears searching for the source of the disturbance.
"Aren't you going to pick that up?" Yang eyed the heiress's breast pocket. A buzzing sound squirmed its way through the white fabric. "Whoever's calling you on your scroll isn't giving up."
Weiss clicked her tongue and pulled out her scroll, a sleek slab of white metal. Her lips twisted into a frown as she pressed a button, silencing the nuisance.
Yang gave her a questioning look, and Weiss grunted. "It's nothing, just another incessant call from home."
"That doesn't sound like nothing. Shouldn't you take care of it?" Yang knew from personal experience just how troublesome doting parents could get.
"I did. Just now." Weiss waved her scroll's blank screen. "See, no noise."
"Yeah, not like that." Yang shook her head. "What if it's important?"
"Then they'll call again." Weiss turned away.
"And if they do, will you pick it up?"
"Perhaps." Weiss raised the palm of her hand. "It's nothing to concern yourself with, Yang. My father simply wishes for me to return home to Atlas for the semestral break."
Yang quirked an eyebrow. "Then why don't you just say no and be done with it?"
"I already did, last night even. My father just doesn't know when to give up." Weiss sighed as she stuffed her scroll back into her pocket.
"Weiss, that just shows he cares," Yang said gently.
"No, the truth of the matter is that he doesn't really care about me, just the family name we share. He thinks I'm wasting my time at Beacon." Weiss palmed hard the dagger on the table.
"Weiss..." Yang wasn't sure what to say.
The air around the counter thickened. Tension strained between the two girls. Yang wondered if she had dove too deep into her friend's problems. Weiss worried if she had said too much.
Yang placed a hand over her Weiss' shoulder. "It'll work out, you'll see."
It was the best she could offer at the moment. The scope of the matter beyond her, Yang did what she could and did what she'd done many times before for her little sister. She flashed a cheeky smile, one so confident it made all the big problems seem small.
Weiss made no conscious effort to remove the girl's hand. She kept quiet, lest she seem any more vulnerable. She was a Schnee after all. She was to be the picture of perfection, the pinnacle of aspiration, the-
A loud crash shook the store. The clang of several metal weapons falling on the floor one after another dominated the air. The two temporary shopkeepers turned their attention to the girl sprawled on the floor, her body buried under a pile of blades, lying next to a heap of toppled shelves.
"RUBY!" They chorused.
"I'm okay…" Ruby raised a thumbs up through the sea of cold metal. She forced her way out of the mess, patting the dust off her dress. "My aura's still pretty thick-"
"Not you, you dunce. Of course you're fine. Look at this mess!" Weiss waved her arms over the knocked over weapons. "How do you cause problems in the last ten minutes of our shift?"
Ruby rubbed the back of her head. "I-I'm sorry. But it's not my fault! Swear!"
"Oh? Then whose is it?" Yang joined the two, crossing her arms.
"Its this thing's." Ruby pulled out a two meter long javelin from the pile. "One minute it looked like a regular sword." She cast Weiss a meaningful look. "The next, it expanded into a full-sized javelin! I don't know if I pressed a switch or something but it caught me by surprise and ruined my balance!"
Ruby dropped the javelin and took a sudden step back, raising her arms, demonstrating to her teammates how she had reacted. The two were not amused.
"Hey, don't give me that look! At least I didn't knock over those jars of dust!" She pointed to the glass containers sitting on the shelves behind the two. Their surface and contents with nary a scratch.
"Well, that's true." Weiss stooped down to pick up the weapons.
"That doesn't fix this disaster though." Yang fixed upright a shelf.
Ruby sighed. "I know, I know. I'll clean up my own mess."
She picked up the javelin. It clicked and suddenly shifted back into a sword, startling her again. Did it have some kind of pressure sensor?
"I think you've done enough damage, Ruby. Why don't you watch the register? There aren't any weapons for you to mess with there," Weiss dismissed their leader.
Ruby wanted to retort back, but the look in Weiss' eyes left no room for argument. She trudged away to the counter, her eyes lingering wistfully at the weapons on the floor.
"A little cold there, Ice Queen," Yang said.
"You have to be firm about punishment and responsibility with children. Otherwise, they'll never grow up," Weiss spoke from experience. Incidents with her bratty little brother came to mind.
"Well, you're not wrong, I guess." Yang returned a dagger to a random spot on the shelf. She just hoped Ruby didn't take it too hard.
The girl in question reflected on her actions quickly. She realized she was to be held accountable for her mistakes. But really, the core of the problem stemmed from the unexpected feature hidden in Shirou's sword. It had looked so ordinary and unassuming, and yet, it hid a completely different shape underneath.
Her thoughts drifted to what other kinds of secrets Shirou might be keeping. To open a shop like Unlimited Blade Works in the middle of Vale at the onset of the Vytal festival when competition for business was so fierce. She wondered how good Shirou's weapons really were.
It was at that moment Ruby noticed the dagger left lying on the counter. It was the one she had left in Weiss' hands carelessly. She picked it up and gave it one last examination. If the regular sword could turn into a javelin, what could the regular dagger do?
Ruby squinted. Was that? She could almost read a tiny line of text etched into the guard.
"Lygarstung…?" Ruby read aloud.
Instantly, she felt the dagger come alive. Its handle squirmed in her hands and a jolt of brute force burst from her hands.
"Look out!" She managed to yell, as she watched the dagger's blade shot free from its handle. The deadly tongue of steel fired straight ahead, its path traced by a thinly sharp metal wire, leading towards the two huntresses-in-training.
Weiss and Yang reacted quickly. Their huntsmen training kicked in. Weiss cartwheeled out of the way, but Yang faced the threat head on and deflected the blade with her fist, veering it away to her left. The blade embedded itself into a surface, its momentum stopped.
The moment passed and the adrenaline in the store stilled.
"What was that?" Weiss shouted at Ruby.
"Uhh, the dagger didn't have a gun after all…?" She shrunk back from the girl's anger. "But this time was definitely not my fault okay! Shirou just hid another trick in his dagger and-"
"It's fine, it's fine. No harm done, right?" Yang cut her sister off, dusting her hands clean.
SNAP
Ruby paled.
A rubber string fell to the floor. Yang's ponytail unfurled into her long mane of blonde curls. However, all three of them spotted the few loose strands fluttering freely in the air, their tips cut slanted at the edge.
Yang's eyes were covered by the shadow of her bangs.
Ruby sweated buckets. "Yang, I'm so, so, so, sorry. I didn't mean to!"
Silence from the Blonde. Her fingers curled into tight fists. Her hair letting off smoke.
Weiss gasped. She noticed the clouds of colorful particles gathering in the air. "Yang, calm down. Take a long deep breath. Count to ten or whatever. Just don't-"
Lilac eyes erupted into volcanic red and golden locks of hair blazed, igniting the free dust in the air. The whole store was enveloped in searing light.
Author's Note:
I am disappointed in myself. I had meant for this upload to come yesterday night, in commemoration for the premier of Prisma Illya: Sekka no Chikai… But well, I just couldn't do it.
Thank you for reading.