(A/N) Ya boy's back! Unfortunately, it's that time of year when I tend to drop off the face of the earth for a couple of weeks. We're back tho, so we gucci. To get the ball rolling again, I decided to kick it off with ol' reliable right here. *slaps webpage tenderly*
Important notice before we continue: This mini-hiatus has completely destroyed what little update schedule I had, so I opened a poll on my profile. Go vote for the story that you want to see updated next; it'll give me a better idea of what y'all feel has been neglected the most. From there, I'll adjust my new schedule accordingly.
I made 2 minor corrections.
First off, in chapter 12, Lord Barthomeloi invites Shirou to come at the end of his academic year instead of during the summer. He goes to school in Japan, so those aren't the same things.
Second, I accidentally wrote in the last chapter that everyone was "upstairs", which isn't technically possible since the Emiya house only has one floor. I've amended that.
Other than that, please forgive me as I get back into the swing of writing after so long away from my stories, this chapter is slower than some, but that's mostly because I'm trying to establish the setting before kicking off a major arc.
Nonetheless, I hope y'all enjoy it. See you next time :)
Edit: If any of you have PMed me or have asked me a question in the forum and I have not answered within a day, it's not because I'm trying to ignore you. The site is still being strange, so if you still don't have a reply to a question within that time period, don't be afraid to send it again until I finally get back to you.
X
I'm no baseball expert, but I had spent the greater majority of my newly-found life in Japan. As such, it was a given that I'd heard of names like Nomo Hideo
I'd been thinking about Nomo Hideo a lot, recently.
He was a pitcher that played for the Kintetsu Buffaloes in the early nineties, I think. Considering that his name was still thrown around every now and then, I'd wager that he wasn't half bad at his job.
What's that? Why am I blathering on about a baseball player if I don't even know all that much about him?
There is something that I know about him, actually. For whatever reason, he wasn't a big fan of his NPB contract, but he found a loophole that let him abandon the Japanese pro league altogether.
And so, he did just that. He shafted Kintetsu, gave the league the finger, and took his talents to America.
And you know what? As much as some people would like to call it a dick move, it never really came back to bite him in the ass. Sure, his career from that point on had its ups and downs, but the fact that he's still popular enough for me to be making this analogy to begin with speaks volumes for his legacy; there were definitely more ups than there were downs, in the grand scheme of things.
I was jealous of Nomo Hideo.
I'd argue that we had a lot in common –snaking our way out of terrible long-term commitments, and all that– but whereas he went from a relatively shitty situation to a noticeably less shitty situation, I went from one circle of hell to another.
"Your mind keeps wandering, Emiya. Focus. Lord Barthomeloi wants the full report before your flight tomorrow."
I masked my dread the best I could by planting my head firmly into my desk. My despotic supervisor wouldn't notice, would she?
"Pouting will get you nowhere."
"I'm not pouting," I grumbled automatically.
The woman sighed. Doing exactly what I did not want her to do, she got up from her own larger desk on the other side of the office and marched up to mine.
"Do you know which department receives the most funding from the Clock Tower?"
…This again? Seriously?"
"Policies."
"Correct. And do you know why that is?"
"Because the Clock Tower runs through Policies," I droned.
"Correct again. There is no Clock Tower without the Department of Policies, and as such, our capital eclipses the next-highest by thirteen percent. So how, pray tell, do you figure that your incessant dawdling befits such an investment?"
They were rich! How nice for them. They literally did not pay me for the work I did –she knew that, right? If the old man was still around, I'd sock him right in the chin, because he strapped me to the butt-end of the worst IOU in the history of IOUs.
The only bright side to being Lorelei Barthomeloi's personal errand boy was that it was better than the alternative scenario in which they used me as a clinical pin cushion in the name of "research".
…Come to think of it, I still didn't know what possessed the vice director to ask for me in the first place. I've been waiting years for the "great reveal" of his ulterior motive… but no. So far, it would seem that he just wanted an unnoteworthy seven-year-old to be his daughter's lackey for the next decade.
And that's exactly what I was. Whenever I was off school, my family and I would take a "trip" back to London, and I was expected to help with a miscellany of chores within Barthomeloi's faculty. Those chores were mostly a fifty-fifty split between paperwork and chasing down the secretaries of self-important administrators who think it's okay to not hand in their reports on time.
"Emiya!"
But I digress.
"Yes, yes–"
My mouth froze mid-quip, so the words that I was going to use to describe my discontent were kept to myself. My idling eyes accidentally caught sight of something out of place on the document at the top of my pile.
I picked up the offending sheet of paper and stared at it scornfully.
This was a joke, right?
Barthomeloi peered over my shoulder.
"Hm? Oh. That."
Oh that, she says.
"Were you people planning on telling me about this any time soon?" I asked as calmly as possible.
"Of course." She flicked the edge of the report with her index finger. "Just now."
And so, ten years later, the "great reveal" presented itself.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. Barthomeloi was the first to break the silence.
"Stay here, Emiya. You gain nothing from a commoner's education. Policies will take good care of you."
I closed my eyes and smirked wryly.
I get it. So it's like that.
"Sorry. I can't do that."
I couldn't help but find her frustration a little bit funny.
"…And why might that be?"
Because I don't feel like it.
"Because there are a few unresolved matters back home."
Although it was only a half-truth, it was a truth nonetheless.
"'Unresolved matters'?" she repeated slowly. "Restructure your priorities, boy."
"Boy", huh? Nowadays, she only ever called me that when I made her angry.
…Honestly, I could understand why she was upset.
No matter my relation to her, Barthomeloi's values were a one-to-one match with most other Clock Tower magi. To most, for a Lord to make such an offer –both the offered tenure and the contents of the legal document in my hand– to some random kid from the Far East was borderline miraculous, if not totally inconceivable. Even a respected member of the college wouldn't think twice about taking it.
For me to have "unresolved matters" back in Japan of all places might as well have been irrelevant.
Unfortunately, it was not an opinion that I shared.
I laughed.
"You wouldn't get it."
Once again showing levels of patience that I couldn't for the life of me figure out where she'd developed, the woman held her tongue and left the argument at that with nothing more than an exasperated sigh.
Nothing else was said. My boss went back to doing whatever it was that she was supposed to be doing, and I went back to suffering alongside my stacks of legal jargon.
X
His Body is Made of Swords: Part 1
X
My name is Emiya Shirou, I am seventeen years old, and today marked the first day of my second year as a high school student: the "prime of my youth".
Or something like that.
"Shirou… you'll come home to your lovely big sister right away, won't you? You'll stay away from that Tohsaka girl and bring yourself back here with Sakura the moment class is finished, won't you?"
"No," I answered the voice behind me, unheeding of the whines that followed. Eyes downcast, I tied one shoe and moved on to the other.
"What kind of answer is that!?"
"Gerkk!"
Before I could pull the second bow taught, my spine was pulled backward by a weight wrapped around my neck. My little sister forced me to meet her irritated gaze.
"You–"
"Nee-chan, could you please let him go? The teachers won't put up with him being late on the first day.
Despite the awkward way my little sister was bending me, I turned my head enough to catch sight of purple hair and a mild frown.
Ah. Sakura. You came to my rescue. Thank you for reasoning with this crazy person in my stead. You are a worthy champion.
The younger girl shot me a disappointed glare, but that was fine. I much preferred the increasingly frequent disapproval to the flat hollowness that her eyes used to hold.
…As for Illyasviel… well, I couldn't really say what I thought of her new appearance.
She was only a few centimeters shorter than me now, and as a man, I could only hope that a growth spurt would come along and end my embarrassment sooner rather than later.
It was expected that her new vessel would be more accommodating towards biological phenomena such as ageing, but a little sister shouldn't be going around looking older than her big brother.
That "big brother" being me.
"Do you have everything you need?"
A pair of white-haired women joined the three of us at the door. Sella and Leysritt didn't look a day older than the first time I'd met them; I didn't know whether they aged gracefully or if they simply weren't capable of ageing in the first place.
I hummed. "Probably. It's not like–"
"I wasn't asking you," Sella cut me off with a disdainful sneer. "Please be a little more astute in future, Young Master."
How mean.
"Of course," Sakura responded with a smile, pretending that the last five seconds of dialogue never happened. "I'm not sure if I'll need any new textbooks yet, but Shirou lent me his old ones just in case."
That's right… today was probably a bigger deal for Sakura than it was for me, wasn't it? It was her freshman year, after all.
My vertebrae were finally given a reprieve when Illya abandoned me in favour of hugging my underclassman close to her chest. "I'm so excited for you~ ah!" her eyes widened. "We need to take pictures, don't we? Leysritt, get the camera!"
That was my cue to leave.
"Come on," I beckoned my fellow student knowing full well that she was stuck, and thus totally incapable of following after me. "We don't want to be late… and all that."
Illya squawked.
"Hold it–"
The front door was already closed behind me before the end of her complaint could be heard. A part of me felt bad for leaving Sakura in the hands of the Einzbern trio right before her high school debut, but a larger part of me wanted my legs to carry me away quicker.
Only once I had crossed the property's gate, I realized my bag was left at the front door.
Sakura would bring it for me, wouldn't she?
…No, she would probably leave it at the house out of spite. That's fine, though. No big deal.
With a yawn, my trek to Homurahara High began at a leisurely pace.
For all that I liked to complain, the current life belonging to me, Emiya Shirou, was not a tragic one. Regardless of past hardships, my days were always spent in the same fashion: I fulfilled my duty as a prospective member of society and came home to my family by the end of it. At least nine times out of ten, my itinerary was utterly uninteresting and more or less identical to that of the average person.
And I planned to keep it that way no matter the cost.
X
"Emiya! Where's your bag!"
Really? Before I even made it inside?
I didn't need to turn my head to know that Tohsaka Rin was leering at me with a judgmental grimace, and yet I did anyway so that she could see just how much I was looking forward to her riding my ass this early in the morning
"Good morning to you too," I greeted her with a dirty look.
"I do hope you're not heading to class empty-handed. What sort of pitiful first impression are you hoping to make!?"
"…"
If I had once thought that allowing her to take the limelight for herself would temper this strange, one-sided rivalry of hers, then I was sorely mistaken. I couldn't care less about something as meaningless as a high school social hierarchy, and yet this woman seemed to take offence whenever she thought that I wasn't taking my education seriously enough.
There were only two reasons why I bothered to show up in the first place: landing an office job sounded like a smooth and uneventful way to make a living, and I would only be able to handle Sella calling me a no-good derelict for so long before I'd crack and fall back on less desirable means of employment. Rin should be counting her blessings that I liked her enough to put up with her.
Startling me, she reached up and squeezed my head between her palms.
"Hey! Say something, you– oh, Emiya-kun! You've got something in your hair. Let me get that for you!"
She flipped her switch halfway through her rambling and went from "imminent combustion" to "damn-near cheerful". Rin took great care to not let anyone see her bad side, so that meant–
"You two again?" asked a new voice thickened with exasperation. "You're at each other's throats all the time. New year, same stuff, huh?
"Of course not, Mitsuzuri-san!" Rin was quick to deny. With a beaming smile, the two-faced girl spun around on her heels to face the newcomer head-on.
Mitsuzuri Ayako was… a friend? An acquaintance? I didn't really know what to call her. We interacted frequently enough, but having the exact same conversation for a year didn't really count as "bonding".
The chestnut-haired girl scoffed. "Ya know, somehow, I just don't believe you."
Of course, Mitsuzuri was someone who could see straight through Rin's ruse. Even though she had her figured out from the get-go, Rin still liked to play make-believe.
"Is there something you need, Mitsuzuri?" I asked despite already knowing the answer.
A finger was jabbed into my chest.
"Yeah! Join the Archery–"
"No thanks."
If she was disappointed with my immediate response –which I doubted; if anything, she expected it– then she didn't show it. Instead, she pulled back with an amused sigh.
"Worth a shot, I guess."
Not really.
"But!" she shouted out of the blue. This time, her finger found itself planted on my nose. "I don't want to hear anything about how you've gone and joined some other club, ya hear? Not havin' the time is one thing, but if you just don't want to be part of my club in particular, then you better say it to my face!"
Despite myself, a soft grin split my lips. "Yeah, I get it. Don't worry though, the Go-Home Club is the only club for me."
In a way, it was kind of sad that her only reaction to my apparent laziness was to offer a satisfied nod.
"Good! If you're going to let your God-given talent as an athlete wither away, then you're better off letting your family down completely and utterly! No half-measures."
Actually, she was taking a dig at me, wasn't she? Though I did have to say, rumours of my athletic abilities had been greatly exaggerated somewhere along the line. I just tended to exercise a lot more than most teenagers would be willing to. It wasn't like I was naturally gifted or anything.
I forced out a dry laugh.
"Funny–"
"You know, Shirou, for someone who claims to be a proud member of the 'Go-Home Club', you sure did leave home in quite the hurry this morning."
Ah. Sakura was here.
There was a sudden tension where previously there was none.
Rin, who thus far had been content listening to Mitsuzuri tear into me half-heartedly, adjusted her grip on her school bag and readied herself to leave.
"I've dawdled enough, I think," she said. "Good day to you all, Emiya, Mitsuzuri-san, Matou-san."
Even though Sakura waved politely to Rin as she left, the emotional distance between them was palpable.
Unfortunately, those two were never able to get along. I tried to get them to talk to each other a few times, but my efforts could only go so far if they were unwilling to do their part. My handle on the situation only waned as they grew older and became increasingly hard-headed about their aversion to each other.
And yet, I couldn't help but feel as though their feelings were a little more complicated than that. I was entirely out of my depth at this point, so any reconciliations would have to be done on their own time.
Mitsuzuri blinked. Deciding that the sudden shift in mood wasn't to her liking, she introduced herself. "Matou, right? We've never met."
My housemate disgruntled expression eased into something much more pleasant. With a bow, she explained, "I'm a freshman, so this is my first time here. It's nice to meet you, Senpai."
From there, it was easy for Mitsuzuri to fall into her role as an upperclassman. "Gotcha. If you need anything, don't be scared to holler. I'll try to help out my new juniors however I can!"
Undoubtedly, Mitsuzuri was someone who did her best to be a doting kind of person.
Sakura acknowledged her invitation with a smile before turning her focus back to me. The smile was quick to flip into a disapproving frown.
Right. She was probably still upset that I left her to the wolves this morning.
"That wasn't nice, Shirou."
I winced.
"Sorry."
With an enunciated huff, a bag was shoved into my arms.
"You forgot this."
My brain stalled for a moment. Even though I… She…
"Thanks. You're an angel."
Her discontent didn't exactly evaporate, but her scowl loosened just a little.
"You're incorrigible. In future, please be more mindful before you run off like that. I'm going to class."
You know, Sakura, you're too forgiving for your own good. If you keep letting me get away with this kind of thing, I won't learn my lesson.
As if she were reading my thoughts, the younger girl stepped on my foot as she left. I did my best not to wince.
Only Mitsuzuri and I remained at the entrance.
"You two seem pretty close," she remarked. "Is she your sister? Hm… but her name is Matou, isn't it? Could it be that she's related to Shinji somehow?
I scratched my cheek. "You weren't that far off the mark. She's kind of like my little sister… you could say. She and Shinji have the same grandfather."
The girl let out an amused snort. "Your family tree's a little all over the place, isn't it? Though I suppose she would have to be related to you in some way to be able to put up with your antics so easily."
No, as far as my family's willingness to "put up with my antics" went, she was more the exception than the rule.
The sound of a bell rang clearly.
"Oh. We're late," I noted dispassionately.
Mitsuzuri was noticeably less calm about it. She bolted immediately, and she would have knocked me over had I not moved out of the way.
"My bad!" she shouted over her shoulder. "See you around, Emiya!"
I offered a mock salute and set off on a leisurely stroll of my own. I'd only be five or ten minutes late to homeroom at the most, which wasn't all too bad.
Delinquent? Me? Of course not. I did not rebel against the system. I merely paid it no mind.
I almost tripped over my feet.
…Who was my homeroom teacher again?
X
Fujimura Taiga stared at me.
I stared back.
Neither of us broke eye contact. To look away was to admit defeat.
"You're late."
Despite myself, I began to panic.
Somehow, even while I knew that she had been a full-time English teacher at Homurahara since I graduated from middle school, it totally escaped me that she was also in charge of a second-year homeroom. My homeroom, as it would seem.
Nine times out of ten, getting on a teacher's bad side would not cause me to panic. Unfortunately, this teacher also happened to be the granddaughter of a Yakuza boss… and was liable to spend a good part of most days at my house.
In essence, she was scary and more than likely to give me a piece of her mind beyond the confines of school hours.
"Uhm, Fujimura-sensei?" awkwardly posed a student. "Didn't you just get here too?"
Taiga bit her tongue and winced.
To my benefit, she was also this sort of person.
"Grab a seat," she grumbled.
Not wanting to push my luck, I complied without a word. I chose the desk next to someone I recognized.
Fujimura-sensei began to prattle on about something or other –welcoming the class to the new academic year, most likely– before the boy sitting next to me nudged my leg with his foot.
"Emiya," he whispered my name under his breath so as to not be heard by our teacher's quasi-superhuman ears. "I'm surprised you came in today. When Fujimura-sensei showed up before you did, I was convinced that you were going to skip."
"Well… you know. I was held up," I replied lamely in an equally low tone of voice. Taiga had a tendency to go on tangents, so it wasn't like I minded this small talk to pass the time until the first period.
My relationship with Matou Shinji was unique, to say the least.
Because of particular circumstances involving his grandfather, we've ended up running into each other a lot since middle school. Like how one would take pity on a puppy at the pound by bringing it home, I did the kid a favour by putting up with his antics regularly.
Which wasn't to say that he was all too insufferable. A bit of an inferiority complex, sure, but that was to be expected given his upbringing.
My memories of him beyond this new life of mine were vague at best, but I knew that he would have contributed to Sakura's suffering had I not acted all those years ago. As it stood right now, however, I only knew him as a regular kid who lived with an old bastard whose eulogy was about 100 years overdue.
Due to those very same "particular circumstances", I had it on good authority that his home life wasn't any more malignant than that.
"Matou! Emiya! Are you talking over me?"
I held back a grimace and shared a look with Matou. One look at Fujimura-sensei's downturned lips was all that I needed to know that we were busted.
How regrettable. I held no doubts that this would make it back to Sella. I was in for an ear-full when I got home.
"He asked me a question," I defended while simultaneously throwing the other boy under the bus. He wasn't too happy with that, by the looks of it. For good measure, I added, "In future, please be more mindful of your classmates' desire to learn before you open your mouth, Shinji."
"Emiya, you–"
"Enough!" whined the teacher. Maybe it was supposed to be an order, but Fujimura-sensei was unfortunately predisposed to the former tone rather than the latter. "I've had it up to here with you! You're not even fifteen minutes into your second year and you're already giving me gray hairs! Can't you just be a good little student for once, please!?"
An awkward silence followed the outburst. Somehow, she went from chastising me in a mildly irritated voice to a blubbering mess with tears threatening to trickle down her cheeks.
Of course, I said the first thing that came to mind.
My eyes softened
"I bet you've been holding that in for a while, huh. Do you want a tissue, Fuji-nee?"
"Go to the principal's office, you jerk!"
X
As it would turn out, I managed to get myself sent home before the first period. That must have been a new record for me. Whatever grief that Rin would try to give me tomorrow as a result of my actions did not outweigh the satisfaction that I currently felt.
The principal let me get off pretty lightly, all things considered. He scolded me, of course, saying that it's "wrong to bully teachers", and that "after having already dealt with me for a full year, Fujimura-sensei was bound to reach her limit eventually". I disagreed, of course. She's practically family, so it was more teasing than it was bullying.
…Probably.
I reached my house and took a deep breath.
Of course, even best-case scenarios had consequences. I could only hope that the Einbern women felt merciful.
Excluding Leysritt, of course. Thank you for your continued apathy, Leysritt.
The door creaked open. Feeling brave, I announced, "I'm home!"
No answer.
That was strange. Were they out of the house? It was rare that all three of them were gone at once.
"Illya?" I called. "Sella? Leysritt?"
I was about to give up before hearing sounds coming from the living room.
A muffled voice became clearer as I entered. Sitting at the table with our home phone to her ear was Illya.
She took notice of my presence immediately and gave me a lidded glare. Obviously, the conversation couldn't spell anything good for me.
I see. If the school had called at the exact same time that I'd arrived, then my timing was remarkably bad.
Something inaudible came from the phone, and Illya's glare narrowed.
"Hmmm," she answered wordlessly over the line.
"…"
"Hmmmmmmm."
Her brow scrunched.
…The principal must really be laying it on thick, huh?
"Hm!"
Whatever my sister was discussing, it was pulling some awfully strange reactions out of her.
"…Yeah, he just got home."
The phone was forced into my hand.
"It's for you," my sister grumbled.
For me?
I brought the device up to my face. Hesitantly, I spoke.
"Hello?"
"Emiya," greeted an appallingly familiar voice. "Your timing is truly impeccable. Please have a bedroom ready by next Tuesday."
What?
"What?"
Lorelei Barthomeloi's scoff was loud enough to be caught by the microphone. "Enough with the games. I haven't the patience for you to be dragging your feet such as you are. I'm coming over, sorting out whichever errand has you so preoccupied, and then you're coming back with me."
Wordlessly, I turned my head to check the calendar on my kitchen wall.
As I thought, it was April. That was… how many months until the Grail War?
"No, thank you."
"I'll be displeased if you try to make me sleep on one of your Asian floormats, Emiya."
The call dropped. That she'd ignore my plea was a given, but it was worth a shot anyway.
…Working around that woman was going to be a pain, but alas, there was nothing that I could do.
"Illya, are Sella and Leysritt out of the house right now?"
"They're buying groceries," she answered slowly. She obviously wanted to know what Barthomeloi and I were discussing over the phone.
"Can you give them a call for me?" I asked. Luckily, Sella had her cellphone on her at all times. "Tell them to buy a mattress and a bed frame before they come home. I'll go pick it up on the weekend."
For a moment, Illya was still. I could practically see the cogs in her brain trying to decipher the relation between my request and the call.
Her eyes widened.
"Wait no!"
You and me both, Illya. You and me both.
