The Dawn of a New Hero
Shirou walked over the streets of his hometown, past the flames that were surrounding him on all sides. His empty, lifeless eyes stared forward as he walked, hoping against all hope for a chance at survival, the roaring flames chasing him forward.
The flames encompassed everything in sight, burning it all to cinders. Even things that should not burn were consumed by this unnatural fire, that seemed to roar its fury and hate to the equally burning sky, as if cursing something up there.
Bodies laid everywhere, spread around, as if a giant had randomly poured them out into the streets. All of them blackened and burned, yet somehow still fuelling the fire.
Screams of pain and anguish filled the air. Desperate pleas and prayers were called out by all those who somehow still lived. But they all went unheeded. The flames continued their work, making no distinction between man, animal, or thing, young or old, noble or evil.
It just burned.
Shirou still walked on, past the bodies of the dying. People all around him were pleading for his help, for him to look at them, to acknowledge them, but he could not stop, he had to keep walking. So he kept walking.
He saw people trying to help each other, but failing miserably. Friends attempting to support each other while fleeing, only to burn together; parents trying to free their children from the wreckage, only to be crushed alongside them. Total strangers trampling each other in their blind panic. Lovers united in one last embrace, fused together by the immense heat. There was only death, no matter where he looked.
And Death then came for him as well. When everyone in Shirou's sight had died, it finally directed its empty sockets at the boy himself.
It came in the form of those unnatural flames. They whispered to him, tried to claim him for themselves, as they had all others. They demanded a sacrifice, the ultimate sacrifice: His life.
Shirou however did not want to give up his life, stubbornly clinging onto it, fighting against the flames, resisting their will with his own. But ultimately, it was futile. Unless he would sacrifice something to the hungry conflagration around him, he would fall. So he began feeding it, with whatever he possessed.
His memories went first, all of them, from his birth until this night, all lost to the fire. Then his emotions, as they only weighed him down here.
His hatred held him back? He got rid of it; his sadness made him want to turn around? He got rid of it; His despair made him want to sink to his knees? It went right into the flames; his happiness, fear, anger, all of it, gone.
Eventually, it was only a hollow existence that was still walking there. And still the flames surrounded him, demanding more.
It was then that Shirou had nothing more to offer to those flames, nothing left to give to the Thing that had sent them. His legs gave in, exhausted, their limit finally reached. As he laid there on his back, his empty eyes stared up at the sky, no longer seeking salvation, but simply desiring to see it one last time.
Blackened flames elongated towards him, to burn him to ashes like everyone else, to curse him with All the World's Evils and feast on his Soul.
Hollow he might be, Shirou still tried to struggle, desperately crawling away with his aching arms, attempting to fight off the taint. He didn't notice his surroundings anymore, didn't care for his situation except for that once again, he had to survive.
The taint pursued him however, reaching out to their meal, laughing mockingly at his attempt to flee, to defy them.
Eventually, Shirou could no longer continue crawling, his arms bruised black and bleeding from dozens of cuts, and the last bits of strength fading from his failing body. He was forced to come to a halt, and watched with empty eyes as the flames cried out in pleasure and anticipation as they jumped towards him...
Only to be stopped by a wall of wispy, white light, that seemed to form a barrier around him, preventing the flames from continuing any further. Some of the light seeped into him, strengthening him a bit, and while the power was doing so, Shirou could have sworn he heard a voice.
"That boy is not for you to consume, little god."
...
Shirou blinked when he found himself back among ash and bodies, the flames around him almost doused somehow and no trace of the wispy light in sight. His tired mind was just mulling over this sudden development, when he heard a voice call out.
"Anyone?! Is anyone there?! Are there any survivors?! Please, if you can hear me, say something!"
A black-haired man was walking through the debris, seemingly in search of something. Shirou opened his mouth to call out to him but found he did not have a voice to call with. His throat was too dry. Fortunately, the man's gaze eventually fell on him anyway.
Shirou saw the man's mouth drop in surprise and his eyes light up in happiness when he laid eyes on the red-haired boy. The man rushed over to him and pulled out… something.
A wave of blue and golden light washed over Shirou, and he felt a rush of energy, far more potent than the wispy light, far purer.
The golden light illuminated his form and moulded something inside of him, something he now saw before him in all of its glory, a hill under a bronze sky. Something magnificent, yet so very incomplete somehow…
Then he blinked, finding himself back in the flaming hell for the second time. Something was different though. Where was the pressure in his lungs? The pain in his limbs? The dull ache in his head?
They were gone. Somehow, Shirou felt perfectly fine now.
Raising his head, Shirou looked at the man sitting in front of him, the man who was undoubtedly his saviour. This little action seemed to fill the man with happiness, as he hugged Shirou tight, frantically muttering his gratitude to an unnamed god.
"He's alive, thank God he's alive, thank you, thank you."
Shirou's eyes were locked unto the man holding him, a single question coming to his mind unbidden.
'Could I be that happy if I saved someone?'
It was the last thing Shirou was able to think before he succumbed to exhaustion and fell into blissful unconsciousness.
When Shirou awoke, he found himself lying in a bed. The first thing he noticed was that he still felt perfectly fine, even though his memories insisted that he'd been wounded horrifically not long before. He carefully flexed his fingers and toes, and then his arms and legs, trying to feel if something was wrong with them.
Feeling nothing off, he pushed himself into a seating position, raising his arms to check them for injuries. Again finding nothing, Shirou allowed himself to exhale, feeling something resembling relief at the healthy state of his body.
His head felt very clear and empty, unnaturally so, but Shirou didn't linger on that for long, as he immediately checked his surroundings.
There wasn't much to see, but Shirou nevertheless took it all in, grateful to just see things after not having expected to ever see anything again. The simple white walls, the windows showing him the bright blue sky, the monitors showing his vitals. He feasted his eyes on it all.
Shirou quickly realised that he was in a hospital room, though he could not recall how he had come to be here...
Wait! No, he remembered. He had been walking through a fire. Shirou clearly recalled fighting it, trying to walk out of it, yet eventually succumbing to the heat and his own exhaustion. He remembered the tongues of fire licking at his skin, and he remembered there had been a wispy light...
That memory slipped away before it could truly form, and Shirou collected his thoughts again. Right after the fire, there had been a black-haired man, who had healed Shirou with a strange light coming from something in his hands.
His saviour, Shirou realised. The man who had healed him, and had probably brought him here, to the hospital, right after.
As if summoned by that thought, the door opened the very next moment to allow entrance to the very man who had saved him. Not letting himself be taken by surprise –he was too disoriented for that– Shirou promptly studied him as well as he could.
He was of average height, thin and pale, clad in black clothes, with black hair and black eyes. The man had entered with a pensive look in his eyes, but the moment he saw Shirou sitting up in bed, all his other thoughts visible fell away.
After a moment of the two of them staring at each other, Shirou spoke up.
"Thank you." Was all he said, not able to think of anything else to say. It seemed enough for the man though, as he blinked in surprise, before smiling slightly at Shirou in response, his formerly dead eyes now gaining a faint light.
'Is that because of me? Is this man truly that happy that he saved me from the fire? Is saving someone truly that gratifying?' These questions and several more immediately formed in Shirou's mind. He was not truly aware of their existence yet, but they took root in his mind nevertheless.
"You're welcome." The man replied warmly. "Really, it was the least I could do, after everything I've done to you."
Shirou did not understand what the man meant by that, but he did not let that deter him. "My name is Shirou, it's nice to meet you."
"I am Emiya Kiritsugu, it's nice to meet you too." After some hesitation, the man, Kiritsugu, spoke up again. "Do you know anything else about yourself? A last name? Your family perhaps?"
Shirou shook his head, his life before the fire was all gone from his mind, only a big black hole being present where his memories were supposed to be.
"Ah." The man frowned, before he quickly put a smile back on. "It doesn't matter, don't stress too much about it. Besides, I'm sure it will all be okay in the end."
A happy ending? That would be nice.
Shirou gripped his blankets tighter though, when he remembered such an outcome was no longer possible for everyone.
The man's words, benign as they were meant to be, had reminded the redhead of his actions while walking through the fire. Or rather, his inaction. How he had stood by and done nothing as people around him died in agony and terror.
They too had deserved a happy end, hadn't they? Shouldn't Kiritsugu be saying something about that...?
A large yawn cut off any words he might have tried to speak aloud, as sleep started to overtake him again. Shirou, as would become a normal occurrence for him in the future, had completely missed his body's ever-increasing need for rest. And now he paid the toll, as he was forced to slip back into unconsciousness right away.
Before he closed his eyes however, he had to confirm one thing. He met his saviour's gaze, asking a question through his stare.
The man, understanding what he was trying to convey, blinked once in surprise, before nodding his head reassuringly, standing up a bit straighter. "I will stay here, for as long as is necessary." He spoke in a solemn promise.
His worries abated, Shirou sunk back into the pillow behind him and fell asleep again, his rest dreamless and undisturbed.
Upon waking for the second time in a hospital bed, the first thing Shirou did was to turn his head sideways. The man, Kiritsugu, had disappeared, but his coat was still hanging over the back of the chair, indicating he was still around, as he had promised.
Now feeling more at ease, as well as less tired than before, Shirou once again took in his surroundings, now trying to remember them in more detail. The walls were white, as was appropriate. The bed was white as well. The monitors next to him were beeping and humming steadily, displaying information that he did not know how to handle or interpret.
All in all, a normal hospital room. He could not recall whether he'd been in one before, but he could recognize it all the same.
Then, in the middle of his observations, Shirou heard voices coming from behind the door.
"This is amazing," one said. "He is completely healthy, no burns, first-degree or otherwise. He has no broken bones or bruises, no organ damage. Even his lungs seem to be completely clean, without any trace of smoke and ash. This is simply a miracle, especially since he was picked up near ground zero."
"Well, excellent then." Another replied. "The sooner he's given a clean bill of health, the sooner we can have a bed free for someone else. God knows we need it with this disaster. Never before have I heard of fire that burned stone and iron as if it were wood, that refuses to be put out by water or sand. The boy must have been blessed to survive all that without injury."
"We could give him a clean bill of health right away," The first voice answered, though it took on a morose tinge. "The only problem is that no one has come for him yet. No family, friends, or otherwise. The boy himself has heavy memory loss. He doesn't remember anything at all, which makes finding any relatives like finding a needle in a haystack.
"Fucking bad luck. His family probably died in the flames, poor boy. I heard though that the man who saved him is applying for guardianship. If the boy is really alone, he'll be adopted right away at least."
"That's a great relief, I hope more people like that can be found soon. The other orphans will need them."
"Hm, quite."
The voices continued on speaking, but Shirou's mind already was elsewhere, thinking over his new discoveries. Kiritsugu had applied for guardianship for him? That was great news! Even though Shirou barely knew the man, he did know that if no family came forth, he would very much prefer going with him than going to an orphanage or a family he did not know at all.
His choice made, Shirou laid back down on the bed again. Glancing at it, he decided that he should get out as soon as possible. Apparently other people needed this bed more than he.
Doctor Tanaka watched the other man walk away after their discussion. He considered it a little weird that the man had stopped him in the middle of the hallway, in front of a patient's door no less, to just give him a general status report on the state of the Fire's victims, but he was glad now that the man had wasted no time in giving him the information. The overall number of patients had been much higher than expected and Tanaka would have to ask for help from neighbouring cities once again, as soon as possible.
It had been an unmitigated disaster, and Tanaka didn't doubt that heads were going to roll among the city council and the fire departments. After something like this, the general public always wanted to see blood in retaliation, and it was dangerous to deny them.
That wasn't his concern though. Tanaka was in charge of the victims, and he needed to make sure as many of them survive as possible, preferably in as healthy a state as could be achieved. To this end, he was willing to do anything, even beg other cities for help.
Fortunately, no begging had been needed, and the other cities had been quick to send aid in their own volition. The man walking away was in fact from one of those other cities, one of the many dozens of volunteers who wanted to help out after the worst disaster that had struck Japan in decades.
The man was very skilled, but rather insensitive, even by the standards of a doctor. What had he been thinking, talking so blatantly about a patient's condition right in front of said patient's door? Did he want the boy to hear everything?
The man was just odd. From the very beginning, Tanaka had been weary of him. It was nothing he could explain, but it was just... the man always seemed so cold, no matter what.
Tanaka wasn't unused to people having closed themselves off from the outside world after too much hurt, certainly not, he'd seen enough colleagues who'd become like that, but this particular doctor really took it to extremes.
Well, not that it really mattered. The man was a hard worker, and very dedicated to his patients. He had been respectful to everyone, so Tanaka could be respectful to him. He would simply ignore the other man's oddities as well as he could.
Realizing he had only referred to the good doctor as 'the other man' for a while now, Tanaka made an attempt at remembering the man's name. It had been an odd one, some kind of fancy foreign one perhaps.
Ah yes, Donald Blake. That was it. An odd man, but certainly a fine doctor.
After a couple of hours of fitful sleep, Shirou woke up once more, seeing Kiritsugu sitting in the chair beside his bed, his eyes once more pensive and unfocused.
Upon noticing Shirou's gaze however, the man stood up and walked to his bedside, looking oddly nervous for some reason.
"I, ah, I have a choice, for you I mean." The man began haltingly, not bothering with greetings or pleasantries. "As it is, no family has come forth for you, no relatives or anything, so I think they're all de-"
He stopped himself with a wince, looking apologetically at Shirou. Seeing the boy still staring at him calmly, he continued, attempting to have a bit more tact. "I have already taken the liberty of filing adoption papers while you were sleeping in case something like this would occur. So, if you agree, I can take you in as my son. What I mean is, you can choose now. You can go to an orphanage or another family, or you can come with this old man."
That was not a difficult choice for Shirou, he had already decided hours before after all. Wordlessly, he pointed at Kiritsugu, who gave a relieved smile back.
"Okay," he said, seeming much more at ease now. "Then I suppose your name is Emiya Shirou from now on. Welcome to the family."
Shirou had amnesia and had never been a social genius on top of that. He didn't even remember the fact that he'd never been one. But even with those handicaps, he didn't miss the flash of pain that went through Kiritsugu's eyes at the mention of family.
Sitting up, he took the man's hand in his own, smiling at him and receiving a somewhat startled, but sincere smile back.
Shirou would simply have to help him with his pain. Kiritsugu had saved Shirou, so it was only fair that Shirou would do everything he could to help Kiritsugu. Maybe Shirou could even save him from what was hurting him.
It wasn't until many years later that Shirou truly realized how much he had already saved Kiritsugu that day.
Walking out of the hospital the next day, (and finally freeing that bed), Shirou said his goodbyes to doctors Tanaka and Blake. Doctor Tanaka had been nice in his farewells, acting pleasant the entire time, but doctor Blake had had an oddly satisfied look in his eyes. Shirou supposed he was happy with the free bed.
Shirou turned his attention to Kiritsugu, who was walking next to him. He was almost bursting with the questions he wanted to ask. He had simple ones, like where they were going to live, as well as difficult ones, in particular about the mysterious light Kiritsugu had used to heal him. Shirou had refrained from mentioning the light to anyone, as it was only Kiritsugu's business, but now that they were alone, he really wanted to ask about it.
It didn't take long for Kiritsugu to notice his new son's gaze on him, and he slowed down enough to have a proper conversation.
Not about to let such a chance go by, Shirou asked the question he'd been sitting on for a while now. "Where are we going now?"
"Well," Kiritsugu mused. "I have a nice house in Miyama town for us, and enough money stored away to live comfortably for quite a while, so you don't have to worry about that.
"Cool." Shirou nodded, before asking his second most important question. "What was that light that you used to heal me back in the fire?"
Kiritsugu looked at Shirou with a pondering gaze after that question, and then nodded his head. "It would be for the best if you knew as soon as possible. Shirou, there is something you should know about me, something very important that may sound very unbelievable at first, but I assure you it is true. You see, I am a wizard."
...
"Okay." Shirou said solemnly, seeing no reason to doubt his father's words. He had suspected as much, after the conversation between Tanaka and Blake before his door.
Kiritsugu blinked once at Shirou's easy acceptance of his words, and then shook his head wordlessly, a faint chuckle escaping him. Really, only a child would accept something like that so easily and without question. Illyasviel had been much the same...
"So, what can you do?" Shirou asked, breaking the older man up from the painful memories that had assailed him. "Being a wizard and all."
"I'd rather not talk about that." Was the immediate answer. "Maybe later, when you're older."
Seeing no problem with that, Shirou agreed easily enough.
Kiritsugu's house was big and spacious, too large for just the two of them really. It came with three furnished bedrooms, four guestrooms, a nice living room, a well-equipped kitchen and plenty of space out front and out back. It even had a shed behind the actual house.
Shirou and Kiritsugu hadn't faced any major problems getting settled in. Neither of them had many possessions, and neither of them was particularly picky about the new things they bought. Also, their personalities aligned rather well, allowing them to quickly build a strong bond.
It wasn't long before they felt and acted like they truly were father and son, for as far as they knew what such roles entailed. Shirou had even taken to calling Kiritsugu 'dad' after a mere two weeks of living together.
They had reached out to the neighbours rather quickly. Those neighbours had turned out to be nice people, despite being Yakuza. Old man Raiga had been very welcoming, and his granddaughter, one Fujimura Taiga, had even claimed Shirou as her new little brother. Though, from the way she had been acting until now, Shirou had deduced that he was likely to be the older one in their relationship, if only in mind and deed.
There were also downsides to this new life though.
Shirou had been plagued by nightmares ever since the fire, waking up drenched in sweat and with the curses of those he left behind clear in his mind. Kiritsugu had not deemed this strange, as it was very normal to experience nightmares as a result of trauma. Still, he'd promised they'd go see a specialist if they kept up.
Shirou did not think an ordinary specialist would be able to help him though. The nightmares felt far realer and occurred far more often than they should. There was nothing natural about them and he couldn't seem to get rid of them. The redhead almost began to believe he would have to deal with them for the rest of his life.
Fate would have it though, that he would solve this problem all by himself, mere months after the nightmares' first appearance.
After having woken up from yet another vivid dream, Shirou could not do anything except lay still on his bed, breathing hard to get some air back into his lungs.
He had seen it again. The fire, consuming everything around him, taking his memories and identity. That was already bad enough, but what truly made those dreams terrible were the other people in them. The people that had died in the ruins.
They were always there in his dreams, burning and dying. They cursed him as he walked past. Condemning him for the sin of remaining alive while all others perished. Loudly proclaiming he should have fallen, like they had.
'I did not have the right to survive. Why was only I pulled out of the fire? Why was I saved when everyone else was not? Does my life have special meaning? Am I supposed to do something extraordinary with it?'
Shirou didn't know. All he knew was that he felt awful, and that there was nothing that seemed to help him feel joy again.
Taking care of Kiritsugu, cooking, talking with Taiga and helping her out with a variety of things, going to school and talking with other people his age. It was all very normal, and it did serve to give him some superficial satisfaction, but he couldn't feel true happiness.
Shirou had pondered for a long time what he could do to help himself, but nothing had come to mind, until tonight, after this particularly bad nightmare.
He had seen the fire again, and that had been awful, but it had made him remember Kiritsugu, and the incredible joy the man had had in his eyes when he pulled Shirou out of the fire.
That joy, that incredible happiness and satisfaction.
That was what Shirou craved, what he never managed to obtain so far, and his father did obtain, through the simple act of saving someone.
Would that work for him? Could he save someone and become happy through that?
It was certainly worth a try.
He would become a Hero of Justice, like the ones in the tv-programs he'd seen, and save people, and through that, he would atone for his sins, and perhaps manage to experience joy once more.
After months of just wandering through life, searching for a purpose, Shirou had found himself a new wish, to save as many people as possible.
The next morning, he told his father of his new-found wish. Kiritsugu listened with a patient ear to Shirou's words, giving no reaction at all, his face remaining still.
After Shirou had finished, his father looked at him with an indiscernible expression.
"You know son, I understand what you mean." He said after a few seconds of silence, looking very pensive again. "When I was young, I wanted to become a superhero. But then things happened, and I didn't... I couldn't believe in my dream anymore."
"You didn't succeed?" Shirou asked, the corners of his mouth going down when his father nodded, before he rallied. "That's okay dad, I'll become a hero in your place. I promise."
The redhead didn't care much for the background on Kiritsugu's failed dream, nor did he feel the need to pry. He just knew that he had to save people to make up for his own sins, to find happiness for himself, and if that tied into an old dream of his father, all the better for the both of them.
Kiritsugu laughed at his son's perceived joke, until he saw just how serious Shirou was looking. The laughter immediately stopped, and the black-eyed man sat as still as stone for a moment.
He was no fool. He could guess why Shirou wanted to be a hero all of a sudden, and he also knew he would not be able to deviate his son from that path. He himself would not have been deviated by anything at that age, and he hadn't had an immense trauma forcing him into action, like his son did.
No, trying to stop Shirou, either by inaction or by actively working against him, would yield nothing but trouble later down the line, when he was gone and Shirou would be left to pick up the pieces of a failed upbringing.
Oh yes, Kiritsugu knew his death would not be the end of it. He had made too many enemies and tempted fate too often to be granted the mercy of having his son live a peaceful life. He knew, as certain as he'd ever known something, that Shirou would have to deal with everything Kiritsugu had neglected to deal with in his life. Inaction was not an option.
There was only one thing he could do.
"Well then Shirou, would you like some training from me?"
The boy nodded so hard his head almost came off.
When Kiritsugu had offered to train his son, he had instantly made a schedule in his mind.
First, he would teach the boy several useful mundane skills, such as tactical knowledge, strategy, fighting unarmed and with weapons, planning, stealth, and interrogation. These skills were by no means easy to acquire, but they weren't Magecraft, which meant there was at least no chance of his son exploding suddenly or something equally horrifying taking place. Also, if Shirou wasn't serious about his dream to become a hero, then this part should be enough to scare him off.
Alas, Shirou had performed excellently and had picked up the skills quickly.
So Kiritsugu had begun teaching the boy some basic Magecraft. In all honesty, he hadn't expected that Shirou would have a lot of success with it. The boy was a first-generation Magus after all, and Kiritsugu was a rather lousy teacher at that. Surely, this was the part where he would give up.
It turned out Kiritsugu was only partially correct. Shirou did indeed not have any talent at Magecraft. The only things he was capable of doing correctly with any consistency were Structural Grasping and Reinforcement, while all other areas turned out to be nigh dead-ends to him.
Yet Shirou had not given up. He had persisted, stubbornly practicing every day, determined to become a hero, no matter how hard he'd have to work for it.
His determination bore fruit in the end. Shirou had managed to master Structural Grasping and Reinforcement to a great extend and had learned the basics of Runes, Formalcraft and Bounded Fields. He was no great Magus, nor would he ever be one, but he was doing as well as could be expected under the circumstances.
Kiritsugu was still a lousy teacher however, and as such, it was unavoidable that some near-disasters would take place.
It had come as a horrible shock to him when Shirou, after three weeks of training, had revealed to him that he was using his nerves as makeshift-Magic Circuits, thinking that was the correct way of channelling Prana. Kiritsugu had quickly disabused him of that notion, instead opening his natural Circuits for him to use, as he was supposed to.
No doubt the boy had dodged quite the bullet there. There was no way that he ever could have reached any level of expertise at all with only those butchered nerves to power him, even if Avalon would have prevented him from being crippled or even dying on the spot.
Shaking his head loose of the memories, Kiritsugu redirected his attention towards the people present in the dojo of the house, keenly observing them as they sparred.
The girl from next door, Taiga, had turned out to be rather good at Kendo. As in, very good, good enough to easily make her way into top-tournaments if she could be bothered to apply. As such, Shirou had immediately requested she teach him, which she had gladly agreed to do, seemingly very happy with a chance to spend more time with 'her favourite neighbours', as she called them.
It had taken only one spar for Shirou and Kiritsugu to discover that she extremely skilled indeed, and quite a decent teacher to boot. Under her guidance, Shirou was progressing very nicely.
Well, who knew? His son might just become a hero yet.
Despite his jovial thoughts though, there was a gloom around the older man, that had been there for several days already. A gloom that had nothing to do with Shirou's training, but with Kiritsugu's past. A past that he couldn't hide from his son any longer.
Kiritsugu knew he would have to tell Shirou the truth soon, about a lot of things. He could no longer put it off, Shirou was old enough now to be told about what happened in the dark parts of the world. He deserved to know how it was that the Fuyuki Fire had started, and who was ultimately responsible for it, and thus responsible for his suffering.
No matter how much Kiritsugu dreaded that conversation, it needed to take place soon. Better sooner than later in fact.
That very same evening, Shirou sat down in front of his father, who was looking back at him with a face that could have been carved from stone, which admittedly made him somewhat nervous. His dad only ever looked that serious if something really big was going on, like the time he had been told that changing nerves into Magic Circuits was not the way to go.
He watched his father shift on his seat, clearly trying to find his words, until he took a deep breath, and then started talking. About things that seemed impossible, yet that Shirou knew to be true.
Shirou's eyes widened, and his expression grew progressively shocked as his father told him about his past. How Kiritsugu's childhood had been, in hiding from the Clocktower, how he had killed his own father and foster mother, though both for very different reasons. About his life as an assassin and mercenary; about the Einzbern family approaching him with an offer; about his wife, Irisviel; about the Fourth Holy Grail War, the atrocities committed during it, and even about the eventual consequences of his actions.
Shirou had a hard time processing things after his father revealed that it had been him who had caused the Great Fire of Fuyuki-City, after he had seen the Grail's corruption in the form of a God of Evil, Angra Mainyu, and had ordered his poor servant, King Arthur (who was a woman apparently), to destroy it.
Throughout the story, Shirou could hear his father tone change from dead and monotone, to pained and grieving. Kiritsugu clearly regretted what he had done, what he had been during most of his life, and most of all, he regretted to have abandoned his wife and daughter, while causing a disaster had claimed the lives of hundreds of people.
When Kiritsugu was done talking, Shirou stood up and walked up to him, while Kiritsugu looked back with a mixture of curiosity and resignation, as if he expected Shirou to blow up at him. Shirou did no such thing however, rather, he gave his dad a big hug, to the man's visible surprise.
"That's really terrible." Shirou sighed sadly. "But it wasn't your fault, dad, especially not what happened in the Grail War. It was Angra Mainyu's fault that the fire started and the Einzbern's fault that Irisviel died. Besides, you saved me from the fire, so how could I not forgive you?"
"Y-You…" Kiritsugu was visibly thrown for a loop again, gaping at his son in shock, but the surprise soon made place for a smile, not as pure and intense as the smile from when he'd saved Shirou, but not far behind either. "I am glad you think of it that way, my son, but I know that I have failed as a hero, as a man, and I have no way to make up for it, except by training you."
"Dad…" Shirou grumbled when his father continued speaking disparagingly about himself, but he fell silent when the man held up a hand.
"Don't argue with me about this, Shirou." Kiritsugu said sternly, before his expression became almost sheepish. "Still, now that you're so accepting of all of this, there is something else I wish to discuss with you."
Kiritsugu took a deep breath, looked Shirou in the eye and spoke: "Your sister."
"My sister." Shirou nodded, having remembered that Kiritsugu had spoken about a daughter before.
Indeed, his sister, Illyasviel von Einzbern, who was still in Germany, in the hands of her family on her mother's side, who were no doubt doing terrible things to her, seeing that she was to become the Grail's next vessel. Kiritsugu had attempted, and would attempt again in the future, to free her, but he did not have the strength anymore to do so.
"Ah, so that's why you're away sometimes." Shirou nodded, his father's absences now making a lot more sense. "You should probably explain that to Taiga soon. She's pretty mad at you for always leaving me behind."
"Haha, I will." Kiritsugu sniggered, his fondness for their exuberant neighbour clear on his face.
"But, to get serious, if you can't save Illya, I will." Shirou promised, not feeling at all burdened by it, as Heroes of Justice were supposed to save damsels in distress anyway.
"Will you? I'm glad to hear it." Kiritsugu patted Shirou on the head, his expression far lighter than before. "Though it might not be as easy as you think it is."
"I'll manage."
"…Perhaps."
With that, the first conversation between father and son about the father's past came to an end. The first conversation, but by no means the last.
Over the next few years, Kiritsugu would tell Shirou many things, things about his own life, things about the Emiya-family and the Einzbern-family, and above all, things about the slaughter masquerading as a war over a so-called Holy Grail.
Safe to say, the stories were not exactly of the happy variety.
A couple of months after this first conversation, things had largely returned to normal. Not that they had ever been abnormal, but that day seemed particularly normal, even when compared to other normal days.
Shirou had gotten up from his futon that morning, he'd showered, done a few chores, spoken with his father and Fuji-nee, and was now out to shop for groceries. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as Shirou walked over the streets of Fuyuki, buying what was needed for that day's dinner.
It was on his last stop though that things finally became abnormal again.
As he came out of the supermarket, Shirou saw a girl, apparently out shopping just like him, straining to carry her bag, which was filled with all kinds of foodstuffs. She looked even younger than he was, and she seemed to be alone, as he couldn't find anyone helping her or even looking at her.
The girl clearly required help, so he went over to offer his aid, taking her bag from her hands. It was indeed quite heavy, but Kiritsugu hadn't trained him for nothing, so he could carry it with relative ease.
"Ha?" The girl proclaimed upon seeing him, clearly surprised by his sudden appearance and action. Taking a better look at her, Shirou saw that she had purple hair and violet eyes. She indeed looked like she was a bit younger than he, with empty eyes and an expression that seemed devoid of emotion, resembling what he had looked like during the months after the fire. It did shift into a questioning look though as she seemed to assess him in turn.
"Hello," Shirou said in answer to her unspoken question. "You looked like you were having trouble with this; would you allow me to help you?"
"Ah, s-sure." The girl murmured, now thoroughly confused at his actions. "Why though?"
"Well, I couldn't just leave you alone while you looked like you could use some help. My name is Emiya Shirou by the way, nice to meet you."
"Ah, yes. Uhm, my name is Matou Sakura, nice to meet you too. You really don't have to help me though. I can manage."
"It's no problem, really. I could see you were struggling with this."
Seeing she was still not entirely convinced, Shirou added: "It would be my pleasure if you'd let me walk you home."
Noticing his golden eyes looking at her with an earnest gaze, Sakura blushed a bit. "Oh, t-thank you."
"Splendid. Lead the way." Shirou smiled brightly at her, causing her blush to deepen. Quickly shaking her head to recollect her thoughts, Sakura obliged with his request, and started leading him towards her house.
"So…" Shirou began after they'd walked in silence for some time. "Nice weather we're having, no?"
"Eh? Uh, I suppose so." Sakura mumbled, looking up as if it was the first time that she'd ever even considered the weather.
"I'm glad it's getting warmer again. I mean, I don't really mind the cold, but when you're walking to school, it can get annoying." Shirou continued, trying to keep the conversation going. "What do you think?"
"Oh, I never really thought about it." Sakura replied quickly, looking unsure how to handle the words coming her way.
Shirou frowned, realising that she'd probably never really spoken with anyone before, and then nodded in determination. He was going to keep talking until they got to Sakura's house.
So that was what he did. He talked and talked about unimportant matters, such as school, his hobbies, the streets, and the people they passed on the way. Sakura's answers were consistently short, sometimes just one word, but Shirou wouldn't be deterred.
Especially since he noticed that Sakura seemed to brighten up the longer he talked. As he'd hoped, she did seem to enjoy it when someone made an effort to interact with her. Where before her eyes were empty, they now had some light in them. Her face was still not very expressive, but it was certainly better than before, with the corners of her mouth noticeably twitching upwards.
Until they arrived at her home.
The unnaturalness and foulness lying over the house like a blanket hit Shirou like a punch to the gut. His instincts screamed at him to attack or flee, but Shirou reined them in, giving no outward indication of his unease on his face. Sakura was still standing next to him after all, and he didn't want to insult or frighten her.
When he turned to her however, he still almost dropped his bags in shock.
Sakura was wilting on the spot, her posture, having straightened some over the past minutes, slumping down again, while her face again fixed itself in an emotionless look. It was as if every bit of colour disappeared from her personality, until only a doll was left.
Sakura then turned to him, took her bag from his shoulder, and bowed.
"Thank you for walking me back to my house, Emiya-san." It was said in a voice ever more emotionless than when she had first spoken to him. "Farewell."
And before Shirou could react, she ran back inside.
Shirou watched her go, before studying the house again. It was a truly foul place, and he felt very uncomfortable with the idea that Sakura was now in there all alone, without him.
Especially since it was likely a Magus lived in there.
That, or someone had spent an awful lot of time and energy cursing the place to hell and back.
Either way, it was no place for a young girl, and Shirou really hoped she was okay in there.
'I hope I'll see her again soon.'
As fate would have it, he did in fact see her again. The very next day actually, while he was walking back home from school. Crossing through a park, since his normal route had been blocked because of a sudden construction project, he heard voices yelling in excitement in the distance, voices that belonged to children his age.
It wasn't the innocent yelling of happy children though. It had a tribal and savage note to it, something base. Not something that belonged in a park in a civilised town. It gave Shirou a very unpleasant feeling in his gut, so he decided to check it out. Someone might need his aid.
Upon arriving at his destination and identifying the source of the racket, he confirmed his suspicions, and his teeth clenched in indignation and rage at the sight of what was happening before him.
Sakura was there, lying on the ground, surrounded by other children her age or older, at least half a dozen of them. They were standing around her, either attacking her or riling up the ones doing the attacking.
"Freak." One called out to the girl on the ground. "With your stupid purple hair."
"She never says anything you know? She must be mute."
"I think she's just dumb."
Sakura didn't say a word, ignoring what the other children were doing and saying. She remained on the ground, her eyes once again empty and hopeless, appearing resigned to her fate.
"She's not even reacting to this, she's boring."
"Well, try kicking her then."
"No." One particularly large and nasty boy grinned. "I'll throw some mud at her face."
Preparing to follow up on his words, the boy picked up some mud from the ground to throw at the freak's face. Before he could complete his self-appointed task however, he felt a hand wrap around his wrist, after which said wrist was twisted in an immensely painful position, forcing him to drop the mud and cry out in agony.
The bully looked up at the culprit in a pain-induced rage, finding that it was a red-haired boy, who was glaring back down at him with furious eyes.
"What are you doing?" The bully blustered, unwilling to admit the anger in those golden eyes unnerved him. "I'll get you, you idiot." The boy turned to his accomplices. "Why are you just standing there? Get this guy!"
At those words, the other children tried to attack Shirou together. Fortunately for him though, Kiritsugu had taught him how to handle multiple opponents at once. As such, he was able to punch, kick and shove his way out of the encirclement to stand in front of Sakura, albeit with plenty of bruises gained from the short scuffle, though he managed to dish out quite a bit too.
"Leave her alone!" He yelled, holding up his fists, ready to dish out some more.
As it turned out though, his show of force and subsequent warning were enough to scare away the cowards before him, who, after a few looks shared between them, ran out of the park in a panic.
"This guy's crazy."
"Mommy"
"Let's get out of here."
'Cowards.' Shirou thought, before turning towards the girl lying on the ground, who was looking at him with wide, surprised eyes. He immediately offered his hand to her to help her up. She shouldn't remain on the ground like that, she might get dirty.
Sakura stared at his hand with a confused expression on her face, as if she didn't understand what it meant or what she was supposed to do with it.
"Hey, Sakura?" Shirou asked in concern when a few seconds had ticked by, during which she didn't move at all. "Are you okay? Do you need to see a doctor?"
He did not want to say it out loud, but her silence worried him. Those bullies had not been gentle, so it was entirely possible she had a concussion or something.
Sakura started at his questions, blinking a few times, before accepting his offered hand and standing up with his help. As Shirou's worried look didn't subside however, she was quick to stutter out a reassurance.
"N-no, I'm fine, Emiya-san." She said, looking down shyly. "Thank you for helping me. Are you okay? They didn't hurt you, did they?"
"No, no, I'm fine." Shirou proclaimed, relieved she was alright. "There's no need to worry about me, you should look after yourself. Really, what were those guys thinking, picking on a beautiful girl like you? If they ever bother you again, tell me, okay? I'll handle them."
Sakura, who had started blushing again for some reason, looked up in concern at his words. "But they'll hurt you again." She whispered in a pained tone.
"You're kidding right? I got them much better than they got me. Besides, these don't hurt at all." Shirou assured her, pounding himself on the chest once and immediately regretting it. "Ow! Okay, maybe it hurts just a little bit."
He laughed sheepishly, Sakura laughing along with him after a few moments.
Her laugh was as beautiful as she was, like little bells ringing, and Shirou blushed when that thought came unbidden to his mind.
Even after she stopped, the lovely sound still seemed to echo through the park, and Shirou had to apply a conscious effort to focus on the matter at hand again.
Sakura was still bruised from being bullied by those kids, and since he could not be certain she would receive any help at the foul manor, he would have to aid her himself. After a quick explanation of his intentions, he took her hand and rapidly started walking to his home, Sakura's gaze not wavering from him all the while.
Kiritsugu was gone for the afternoon, so Shirou took it upon himself to nurse her back to health, with bandages, paper towels, blankets, and tea.
Taiga arrived sometime later, taking one look at him and Sakura before demanding an explanation from both of them, one from Shirou about why he was taking girls home when he wasn't even in puberty yet, and one from Sakura about what her devious plans were with Taiga's cute little brother.
After he had worked down his blush at Taiga's insinuations, Shirou told her about Sakura being bullied and him saving her, eliciting both an angry reaction from Taiga about the bullying and a full-blown laugh at her 'gallant' Shirou coming to Sakura's rescue.
When Kiritsugu arrived, he too seemed amused by the story. His smile briefly disappeared upon hearing Sakura's last name, but he didn't address the issue just yet, instead already preparing to teach Shirou a bit about both Magus-politics in general and prominent families he should watch out for in particular. But that could wait until Sakura had gone home.
When evening fell, Shirou invited Sakura to stay for dinner, which she politely declined, as her grandfather had told her she had to get home before dark.
Taiga decided to walk her home, as Kiritsugu was sick and Shirou was too young yet.
"Okay Sakura-chan, say goodbye to Shirou-chan." She said once they were at the front door.
Sakura did just that, giving a polite bow to him.
Shirou smiled at that and bowed back, but then, before he could get back up, Sakura swiftly stepped forwards and quickly pressed a kiss to his cheek. With a whispered "Thank you for today" she rushed out of the house, leaving behind a very confused Shirou and two very amused caretakers.
After Taiga had left, Kiritsugu turned towards Shirou, who had not moved from his spot.
"I did not expect to come home to the news of you having saved a damsel in distress, Shirou. I must say, you really don't waste any time with your goals." The man laughed in amusement, before his eyes softened and he placed a hand on Shirou's shoulder. "I am proud of you, my son."
Having said that, he steered a still unresponsive Shirou back to the living room, where he put Shirou in a seat and sat down himself as well.
"Now then Shirou, I had wanted to do this for a while now and you have given me a perfect opening today. I believe it is time to teach you about the politics of the Moonlit World…"
Several years later
Shirou watched with tears in his eyes as his father's coffin was lowered into the ground. Next to him, Taiga and Sakura stood, both wearing expressions of mourning as well. He was happy with Sakura's presence, as she had not been sure if she could make it up until the very last moment, but she had found the time to be here. The plum-haired girl had become a good friend of his over the years, coming over as often as she could. As such, she too had come to look up to Kiritsugu and was saddened by his death.
Taiga was silent, very unusual for the normally so active woman. She hadn't said a word since the funeral had started, instead just softly crying. Old man Raiga stood next to her, his hand placed on her back in an attempt at comforting her.
Shirou was mournful as well of course, as evidenced by the tears he couldn't prevent from streaming over his cheeks, but he knew Kiritsugu was in a better place now, wherever that was. The man had said as much, during the last conversation the two of them had had the previous evening.
Father and son were sitting outside on the patio of their house, together watching the night sky, which was filled with twinkling stars.
Kiritsugu was perfectly content to sit like that, doing nothing but smiling peacefully, just enjoying the general ambiance. Shirou was trying to be calm and collected as well, but a nagging feeling of distress was disturbing any attempt at inner peace. Strangely enough, the feeling seemed to be centred on his father. Something was not right with the man, not right at all.
Gathering his courage, Shirou decided to speak up.
"Father, is there something wrong with you?"
Kiritsugu opened his eyes and gave Shirou a confused look, both because of the question and because Shirou had been so unusually formal with him. Saying 'father' instead of 'dad'.
"Something wrong? Why would you think that?"
"It is just a… feeling that I have, I don't know why."
His father seemed to scrutinize him for a moment, as if searching for something. Shirou held his gaze, trying to convey his worries through his stare. After a few moments, his dad turned away again.
"How is your training coming along?" Was the question he got in response.
Caught flatfooted, Shirou could only respond honestly, that it was going well. He had trained with Taiga, done the exercises that Kiritsugu had given him, and had studied more for his Magecraft. He had been doing a lot of volunteer work in the city and had helped anyone who needed it, as long as it was within his capabilities.
"Good, you're making good progress." Kiritsugu praised him, a small smile on his face. That smile however fell after a couple of seconds.
He looked up at the sky again, sighing deeply. "I won't live through the night, my son. It is matter of hours, maybe minutes now, before I die."
"Dad…"
To say that Shirou was shocked would be an understatement. He had known his father would die soon. He knew of the curse he had been inflicted with, but to hear it was now so close…
The redhaired boy didn't want to cry. If his father wasn't crying, he shouldn't either, but he just couldn't stop the tears from flowing out anyway, as his shoulders shook with repressed sobs.
"Come now Shirou." Kiritsugu said, putting his hands on Shirou's shoulders. "Don't cry for this old man, but rather listen to what he has to tell you in his last hours on Earth."
With great effort, Shirou managed to suppress his crying, looking up at his father to give the man all of his attention.
"You have become a great man, my son, truly great. You are kind, patient, helpful, and above all, capable. You have shown that time and again, with your training, your volunteer work, and with Sakura. I have no doubt you can become a hero if you stay on this path. But even though I am very proud of you, the father in my demands I warn you as well. Shirou, whatever you do, don't forget yourself in the future. Helping others is good, but you are important too, if not to yourself at the moment, then to me, to Taiga, and to Sakura. Remember to save yourself, just as you would save others. And of course, as a last selfish request, I ask you to not forget your sister."
Shirou did not understand his father's words.
Oh, he did understand the part about Illyasviel well enough, he would forever work to save her of course, but he did not understand why he would have to save himself of all people. He had already been saved, so surely, it was his turn to save others now?
Not wanting to disappoint his father though, he agreed, promising to look out for himself as well. Even though he knew he would not, not really. How could he when he didn't even understand what it meant after all.
It was evident his father had seen through him, had seen that he didn't mean it, but Kiritsugu smiled nevertheless, and told him to come sit in the chair next to him. Shirou had taken place there, and father and son had talked throughout the night.
By the time the morning came, Emiya Kiritsugu had died, a true smile on his face.
Looking at his father's coffin again, Shirou wondered about that smile. He had only seen his father smile like that once before, when he had pulled Shirou out of the fire. A smile that spoke of Salvation, of the contentment that every human longed for.
Had his father been saved? Or had Kiritsugu saved someone else? Shirou did not know, and it was driving him crazy. Was this something only adults could understand? Because if so, Shirou hoped he could learn it fast. He would not be an effective hero if he did not even know how to save people effectively.
'I swear to you dad. I will become a hero. I will save people, help people, bring happiness to people. And one day, I will learn why you smiled like that.'
Several months had passed since Kiritsugu's death and not much of note had happened in that time. Fujimura Raiga had taken custody of Shirou and had delegated the task of checking up on him (read: mooching off him) to Taiga. Shirou had kept up kendo-practice and had improved quite a bit. He had also taken up archery. He turned out to be a natural at it, never once missing the bull's eye.
Sakura had kept coming around too. She spent her days at his house as often as she could, being there at or even before breakfast in the morning and only leaving after dinner in the evening. Really, she was such a good friend. He hoped he wasn't cutting too much into her family-time though.
...
Scratch that, he did in fact hope that it cut into her family-time, as much as possible. Her grandfather, Matou Zouken, was a creepy bastard alright. Just looking at him made Shirou almost physically unwell. Zouken felt completely unnatural and smelled like corpses and worms. It had prompted Shirou to invite Sakura over even more often, something the girl herself was only all too happy with.
She did skip entire days every so often though. Apparently, her grandfather had tasks for her on those days. What that meant, Shirou did not know, but perhaps it was something Magecraft-related? The Matou were an old family of Magi after all, so who knew what they could get up to.
On the other hand, the Matou had lost their talent for Magecraft. According to Kiritsugu's information, Matou Kariya had been the last to have active Magic Circuits. As such, Sakura couldn't be a Magus, which made her activities on the days she didn't visit him a mystery again.
On an unrelated note, he was also doing rather well at school. Highschool was now only half a year away, and Shirou had already picked the school he wanted to attend: Homurahara High School. Its reputation was excellent, Taiga worked there, and it even had an archery club, making it even more appealing to Shirou.
School was a matter for later however. Starting today, there was a two-week holiday, which meant more free time for training. He'd been meaning to pick up a martial art sometime and this might be the opportunity he'd been waiting for. His father had advised him to start early with that after all.
Speaking of his dad, Shirou was currently on his way to the Ryuudou-temple, where Kiritsugu lay buried. It would be a short visit, just to update his father on the most recent happenings in the city, like he did every month.
He'd had dinner an hour ago, after which both Sakura and Taiga had left early, stating they had tasks left to do at their respective homes. As such, Shirou had a free evening. One he was planning to spend at his father's grave first and then in the forest next to the city, where he would take a walk to clear his head.
On his way to the temple, his path crossed that of a certain black-haired, twin-tailed girl, wearing a red shirt and a black skirt.
With all of his father's lessons about politics and Magus-families, there was no way Shirou would not have recognized the Second Owner of Fuyuki herself: Tohsaka Rin.
He wasn't overly worried though, the two of them had crossed paths before and she had never once stopped him to confront him as a Magus.
He supposed that made sense, as he had always made sure not to perform any Thaumaturgy when he was anywhere near her. He kept his Circuits on completely non-active if she was around, so no trace of his Prana could ever make its way to her. As such, she didn't have any reason to suspect him. She didn't even know him at all really, and no doubt forgot all about him after she had lost sight of him.
As they passed each other, Shirou smiled and gave a polite nod to her. Seeing her do the same, the nod that was, not the smile, he continued his walk, completely missing Rin taking a glance over her shoulder to look at his back.
About an hour later, Shirou had visited his father's grave in the temple, also having taken the time to visit his new acquaintance, Ryuudou Issei, the son of the owner of said temple and Shirou's newest potential friend.
Shirou's path then led him into the dark forest, where there was no light except for the moon and the stars. The darkness did not bother him however. Simple shadows did not scare him in the slightest, while muggers and their ilk would find themselves unpleasantly surprised should they try to attack him.
All in all, the ambiance in the woods could only be called peaceful. Only the slight sounds of nature were audible, with sometimes the roaring of a car far away.
'BOOM!'
Thunder suddenly sounded overhead, forks of lightning accompanying it, and Shirou almost had a heart-attack in shock.
He looked up in surprise. To his astonishment, he saw dark clouds gathering overhead, enough of them to indicate the coming of a thunderstorm of epic proportions.
There had been absolutely no forecast about this storm. It had been a very pleasant day, with a perfectly clear sky. For these deep dark clouds to gather so quickly and suddenly…
'BOOM'
Thunder sounded again, even louder than the previous time, while bright flashes of lightning shot through the sky like a god's grasping fingers.
The pattern of the lightning seemed weird though. It didn't strike at the ground, as lightning normally did, but it seemed focused on a point in the sky instead.
That was not normal at all. Lightning was supposed to find the way of least resistance to the ground, not be aimed upwards to nothing.
Shirou squinted, trying to see what it was that was drawing in the lightning, but his view was completely blocked by the clouds.
He shook his head, deciding to forget about the lightning's strange behaviour for now and make his way home. Standing outside in a forest during a thunderstorm was dangerous. Every child knew that. He had never been hit by lightning before, and even with his sense of self-preservation being as eroded as it was, he wanted to keep it that way.
Starting off at a rapid walking-pace, he soon started running when he realised the thunderclouds were moving towards him. He had to find shelter right away before it was on top of him. No longer did he specifically think of his house, but the Ryuudou-temple or another public structure would do as well. Even the streets of the city were better than the forest.
Then he stopped dead.
Emiya Shirou stood frozen in place.
For he had smelled something strange.
He smelled Magic.
That might sound a little strange, but Shirou was very good at sensing Magic, and sensing Magic was something he did with his nose. Of course, Magic didn't actually have a scent, but the Magical Energy that Shirou picked up on was automatically translated into a smell for him.
Kiritsugu had often compared him to a bloodhound, so good was he at finding and pinpointing Magic with only his nose. Even the faintest traces he could smell, from up to a hundred yards away.
He was also able to discern certain types of Magic with his nose. Fire-Magic smelt like fire and ash, Bounded Fields often smelt like a combination of the Field's purpose and its maker, Runes smelt old and powerful, with an undertone of dusty tomes.
It was a very useful ability, and it was this ability that made him stand still in the middle of a forest during a thunderstorm. For he smelled Magic, clearer than ever before.
It was the smell of ozone, of lightning. More potent and powerful than any scent he had ever caught before. Even Tohsaka did not smell this powerful, not even close.
His gaze went skywards again, towards the cluster of thunderclouds, as he was certain the scent was coming from that direction. He squinted again, trying to see clearer…
Almost as if on cue, the clouds parted, and something came through. It was a tiny speck in the sky, which seemed to be the thing that was attracting the lightning. It was falling down fast, and it was aimed right at…
At Shirou.
The moment he realised that, he immediately rushed out of the way of the falling projectile, and then kept running for a while just to be safe. Only when he was a good distance away from where he had been standing did he turn around to watch the speck come down from the sky. It fell lower, and lower, and lower, until…
'BOOM'
With the loudest sound thus far, the thing hit the ground with the force of an Earthquake, making Shirou extremely grateful he'd been wise enough to get out of the way. It skidded on along the forest ground, dragging out a deep ditch as it did so, eventually coming to a stop several dozen yards further, coincidentally (or not) very close to Shirou's current position.
From his spot, Shirou could not see what the mysterious object was however, as there were several trees blocking his sight. After internally debating for a while, he decided to go and see what it was exactly.
'A hero must not feel fear for the unknown, rather he must go forth and face it.' He thought to himself, slowly approaching ground zero.
It did not take him long to find the thing, as it was simply a matter of following his nose. The massive trail of destruction left in its wake also helped.
He had no idea what it could be, as its smell was completely alien to him, but he would guess it was probably a Mystic Code of great power, possibly even a Noble Phantasm.
Once he reached the object however, he saw to his astonishment that it turned out to be a simple hammer. Of course, considering the destruction it had wrought, it was by no means a simple hammer, but it sure looked like one.
It looked like an oversized hobbyist-tool, with a simple prismatic form. It was roughly the size of a football, with a handle about as long as his forearm, maybe slightly longer. It had a strap hanging from the tip of the handle and it seemed to be made of some kind of pristine stone that glowed in the dark.
Shirou also noticed the inscription on the hammer's side. He recognized the signs as Runes, Norse Runes to be precise. Fairly powerful ones too, if the way they were glowing was any indication. His meagre knowledge was not enough to translate the inscription however, so he drew a blank as to what was said.
What he did know though, was that this weapon was definitely magical. If the lightning's behaviour around it was not enough of an indication, then the smell it exuded certainly was.
Shirou would have to remove the hammer immediately. Its arrival had been extremely loud, so people would come looking, and with it being out in the open, they would find it too.
Shirou did not want to contemplate what would happen if an ordinary person would find such a powerful magic weapon, but his training made him think of the three most likely scenarios anyway, which consisted of a best case, a bad case, and a worst case.
The best case would be that nothing would happen at all. Someone would find the hammer, take it with them, and put in a storage somewhere, before forgetting it.
The bad case would be instant destruction for any person who picked it up, as magical weapons could be very volatile.
The worst case however would be the Clocktower finding out about the appearance of the weapon. They would purge the city, both to erase all traces of Magecraft and to kill the one who was leaving Mystical weapons just lying around.
No, Shirou would have to take the hammer with him, that would be in everyone's best interest. He would just pick it up and take it home for now. He could sort it all out tomorrow, maybe leave it behind at Tohsaka's place. She would know what to do with strange hammers, and from what he'd seen and heard of her, he was pretty sure he could trust her enough not to do any foolish or potentially damaging things with it.
With that in mind, Shirou moved towards the hammer, quickly crossing the distance while climbing through the large trench now etched into the landscape. He walked up to the weapon, absently noting that, no matter which direction he went in or what position he took, the hammer's handle always seemed to be pointed at him.
As he approached, the aura surrounding the thing became noticeably stronger. This should have been a bad sign, but Shirou somehow knew that it wasn't, not to him at least. In fact, he could have sworn the power had an exited tinge to it, a welcoming tinge even.
Shirou was completely focused on his objective, so he missed how the wind had stilled, how the clouds were frozen in place, and how the storm seemed to be holding its breath.
As he walked up to the weapon, the entire world seemed to look on in anticipation.
When he finally reached the weapon, its aura was so heavy it almost forced him to his knees. Shirou persisted however, determined to remove the weapon before it could harm anyone.
He bent down and reached out to grab the hammer, his fingers touching the handle...
Only to jump back in shock when he saw the inscription on the side shift as soon as he touched it.
Despite him letting go though, the Runes did not stop shifting. They altered themselves completely, until they had changed into perfectly readable Kanji.
'Whosoever lifts this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the Power of Thor.'
Shirou's mind blanked. He could only stare at the weapon with a dumbfounded expression.
For who had never heard of Thor? The God of Thunder, lightning, storms, strength, fertility, and, something that had always puzzled Shirou, oak trees. One of the most famous gods on Earth. The son of Odin and Fjord. The Protector of Mankind. The wielder of…
Mjolnir?
'No, it can't be, that's impossible.'
Shirou, being a practitioner of Magecraft, had more knowledge about gods and their weapons than most people had. He had learned from his father and from several books that Thor had wielded Mjolnir, the greatest weapon of Norse Mythology.
Granted, most people knew that, but Shirou had the added advantages of knowing that Thor had really existed and knowing what he and his weapon really looked like, which was why he was seriously doubting the claim that this little thing was in fact the famous Mjolnir.
The Mjolnir that Thor had once wielded was as big as a four-person couch, and that was in its locked mortal form. In its Divine form, it was just a mass of lightning and destruction. This hammer on the other hand was tiny, not to mention as tranquil as a deep lake.
Another strong argument for this hammer not being the Mjolnir was that the Age of Gods was over. Mjolnir could not be here. Thor was gone, so his hammer should be too.
And even if Mjolir was somehow still around, godly power, or godhood itself, could not be transferred through weapons. Perseus had not become a god when he put on Hermes' sandals. Hell, Mjolnir itself had been taken once, by a Stonegiant, who certainly hadn't become a god as a result.
Clearly this was just a joke, or a boast from an overly arrogant Magus. It didn't change anything about this situation. He had to take the weapon away. If people were to stumble upon it, they could get hurt. Who knew what this weapon was capable of, even if it wasn't actually divine?
As such, Shirou reached for the hammer again, once more grabbing its handle, now with a tighter grip. Ignoring how the text on the side seemed to glow and the hammer seemed to vibrate from the moment he touched it, he braced himself, and pulled…
'BOOM'
Thunder once again shook the sky, lighting flashing around in all directions.
It was just one thunderclap, but it was the loudest one until now, the loudest one to have ever sounded in the city. All over town, important people noticed the veritable explosion of power, each having their own reactions to it.
In a church, the only church of the city, a certain priest paused in his preparations of the morning's sermons. He had heard the clap and seen the flashes, but hadn't thought much of it, until his heart, the one given to him by the Grail, seemed to pause for a moment when the ruckus occurred.
It was beating just fine now however, so the priest put it out of his head. It must have been his imagination.
In the same church, a blond-haired, red-eyed King also paused in his actions. He too had heard the thunder, louder than ever before. Maybe even louder than the thunder from the Rider from the Fourth War.
He huffed, faintly amused by Nature outdoing that oafish fool. He returned to sipping his wine, not seeing the need of investigating further. Still, he had a feeling suddenly, one he had not experienced since his time in Uruk. A feeling of being watched, by those above.
In a stately manor, a black-haired girl started in shock from the sudden crash.
"Stupid thunder." She muttered. "I am trying to concentrate here."
Rin had indeed been busy. Not with schoolwork of course, she had just started the two-week holiday. No, she had been trying to practice her Magecraft. 'Trying' being the keyword here. Because for all that Rin tried to focus on her task, she kept straying off into daydreams.
Daydreams of red and gold.
Squeaking in embarrassment at finding herself thinking such thoughts, she completely forgot about the Thunderclap that had occurred.
In a decidedly less stately manor, in a basement even more decrepit than the house itself, an old worm lifted his head to stare at the ceiling.
"We might be getting a storm tonight." He remarked to his adopted granddaughter, who was currently undergoing her treatment. "Not a good time to be outside."
Despite seeming at ease though, Zouken could not suppress a twinge of worry. That clap, and the lightning going with it, had broken the connection between him and his worms for a second. It had been only for the shortest of moments, and everything seemed fine now, but it was enough to raise his hackles.
In the meantime, Matou Sakura was lying in her grandfather's wormpit, being constantly violated by the disgusting creatures around her while trying not to lose her mind. This was not a new experience for her, rather it had been going on ever since she had been adopted into the Matou family.
Her life was terrible. Terrible to such a degree that there would have been no reason for her to keep living, if it hadn't been for one ray of light that she had found years ago. Or rather, the ray of light that had found her.
'Senpai.'
In in the wormpit, her thoughts remained on the person who had taken her in, who had helped her, protected her. Even if she could never be with him, defiled as she was, she could as least fantasise, and gain strength from his presence, even if he was not there.
Huh, her grandfather was talking?
She frowned. He almost never talked during training. She listened to what he had to say, and her frown deepened.
Especially not about something as mundane as the weather. Matou Zouken did not waste words like that. He had always told her that wasting time talking was a sin.
It was strange though. Sakura could have sworn that she had heard nervousness in her grandfather's voice when he had spoken. But that was impossible, right? What would ever make a monster like him nervous?
Further away, much further, an old vampire, the one possessing the Second Magic, calmly moved on with his life and whiles. He had noticed nothing, nor had any other of his many versions across the dimensions, for a veil had been lifted in front of his many eyes.
At the same time, the message echoed through the Omniverse.
The Power of Thor had found a new wielder
Soon, a new protector would rise.
Everywhere, any being powerful enough to notice looked up in surprise, and sometimes jealousy, as the message came.
In a place outside the Omniverse, in the timeless halls, the Creator sat, a smile on his face.
And reality rejoiced,
For a God had been reborn, and a new hero had risen.
Author's note:
Cool, Shirou has the hammer now.
This Shirou is a bit different from Canon-Shirou, which was probably made clear enough in this chapter. How he deviates from canon, you'll have to see for yourself.
I introduced some characters here, they will be of importance in the rest of the story as well. You would do well to remember them.
Be aware that the plotline of the Grail War won't start for quite a while yet. I will have Shirou build up his power and reputation first.
Have a nice day all of you and sorry for the wait.
Edited later for better flow and choice of words.