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Chapter 2
The following day Shirou pulled himself to his feet and looked at the sleeping form of his sister. He didn't see a point in waking her if she wasn't coming. And despite the internal voice screaming in his ear to drag her along anyways because she'd be safer with him, he didn't.
Moving to the fire, he picked up his shirt and winced. It was still a bit damp, as was the sweater, but it had to look better than before, right?
Shirou took a chunk of the meat for breakfast and went out into the morning. His wet sweatshirt proved more of an annoyance than Shirou had initially expected. But even slightly damp, it was better than not having it.
On the upside, he'd managed to clean up quite a bit of the blood, and anyone looking at it might have assumed it was a poorly cleaned wine stain rather than blood-stained. He was willing to bet that he looked a thousand times better than he had previously.
Reaching town on foot only cost him about an hour, so he stepped into the city proper just as the sun began to rise. As he moved about the streets, Shirou focused on the businesses where someone was arriving. The first was a stocky man in an artisan bakery.
Knock. Knock. Shirou rapped his knuckles on the glass door only moments after the door had closed. The man pushed the door open a few moments later.
"Look, I don't give out free food anymore. I can't afford to after that woman claimed I had my bread marked as gluten-free and sued. Sorry."
"I'm sorry, but I'm not here for the food. I was coming so that I might put in an application."
The man jerked back and looked Shirou up and down for a moment before shaking his head. "No."
He didn't offer a further explanation, so when he pushed the door closed, Shirou didn't try to stop him.
He just headed to the next shop, a hardware store; Shirou pushed the door open and blinked in the low light. Six workers were moving about the floor though only one held a broom. In the center was a bald man with a large mustache staring hard at a magazine with a guitar on the front.
"Hi there, I'm Sam. Is there something specific you're looking for?" A tall man with a green army jacket over his smock.
"Thank you, but I'm just looking to put in an application."
He nodded and pointed at the man in the center. "Rob owns the place, but he's not here. Garth should be able to help you with that."
Shirou nodded, though he thought that was kind of unnecessary. After all, most businesses kept the applications at the counter. "Thanks."
When Sam called, he brushed past the worker and made his way toward the counter.
"Hey Garth, you want to get him an application?"
Garth looked up and pulled a sucker from his mouth. "That I can."
He pulled a small stack of papers from the shelf and extended them. "Course, we're not hiring right now." He gestured at all the workers. "Kinda full up, but make sure you get that back to us. Rob likes making sure he can give as many people a chance."
Shirou nodded, "By chance do you mind if I fill this out now?"
Garth's response was to offer him a pen. "Here ya go."
"Thanks." As Shirou looked the application over, a fact he'd overlooked struck him like a load of falling bricks. He lacked a lot. An address, phone number, work history, references, and pretty much anything besides his name.
"Well, that's pretty empty," Garth said as he leaned over it. "But we've worked with less. Just come back tomorrow. Rob will be in then."
Shirou muttered his thanks as he turned on his heel and made his way out of the building.
He couldn't believe it! How could he have forgotten that he didn't have any of the paperwork needed to start working!? How was he supposed to get around that? But, then again, Garth said Rob might give him a chance. Maybe others would give him a chance as well?
Considering the other option was to go home, having hardly tried, he wasn't about to give up so easily.
The next building was a bank, and from the way, the blinds were being pulled open. It had just opened for business.
Adjusting how he was holding himself so that at least the worst stained clothing was hidden, Shirou closed the distance and entered the building. He smiled at the security officer, a somewhat tall, somewhat heavyset man with many laugh lines on his face.
"Morning," he said, "if you're here to open an account Miranda—" he pointed to a woman sitting at a desk, "is just the one to help you. Loans go to Steve. He's the one in the brown suit in the corner."
"How about for an application?"
Without missing a beat, he pointed at a door on the right. "Mr. Gordon's the one for that."
Shirou nodded. "Thanks for your help."
"My pleasure. It's always nice to meet people who see me as something more than furniture." He extended a hand. "I'm Clem."
Taking the offered hand, he gave it a firm shake. "Shirou Emiya."
"Well, Shirou Emiya, how can the Bank of Perez help you today?" A new voice that left Shirou with the urge to wipe his hand on his pants offered.
Shirou turned and found it belonged to a gaunt man dressed in a well-made if overused blue suit that seemed to hang off of him. He extended his hand in greeting.
"My name is Gordon Pregar. Is there anything I can assist you with today?"
Shirou took his hand too. "I'm Shirou Emiya. I came to apply for a job."
A plastic smile fixed his face, and he gestured for Shirou to follow him. He leads him across the floor into his office.
Shirou took the offered seat when they walked in but somehow found himself the only one sitting. Mr. Pregar opened the top drawer of his desk, pulled out an application, and placed it on the desk in front of Shirou, but left his hand on it.
"I feel it only appropriate to warn you we deal with robberies fairly regularly."
Shirou blinked. How was that happening in a world full of heroes?
Pregar laughed, "I know, right? So why would they keep making this place a target? Between you and me, so few of them get more than a couple blocks that most villains probably consider it a challenge.
Shirou nodded in agreement. He could see that.
"Anyway, I know you want work, and good on you for that, but do you really think this would be a good fit?"
Shirou shrugged, "I think you'll find I can adapt to just about any environment."
"That's great, a wonderful skill, but I don't think we have a position open that you qualify for."
Shirou stood with a nod. "Not a problem. Thank you for your time."
The man nodded as he moved to the door and took hold of the knob.
"Really, I'm sorry," the man said. He sounded somber, but he forgot to take the plastic smile from his face. "We just don't have any positions open at the moment. We just filled the last position the other day."
Shirou nodded. What did he care if the man was lying? Of course, he didn't want him working at the bank, but that was fine.
"I appreciate you taking the time to see me," Shirou said and inclined his head.
The man waved it off, swung the door open, and stepped out and to the side. "It wasn't a problem. If you'd like to leave a resume, we'll give you a call the next time we have an opening."
Another lie, but Shirou shook his head. "I appreciate the thought, but I don't currently have a phone. Anyway, you have a great day."
He stepped around another customer with a cherry red jacket and strode out of the building.
There wasn't a reason to fight with the man, not when there was one grocery store and two coffee shops on the block across from him.
"Coffee shops first." He grunted to himself and headed for Nova which, according to their banner, was celebrating its sixth year as "Jump City's number one coffee shop!
With not one of its eight locations having ever been destroyed by a villain attack or anything else."
Considering that wanton destruction seemed to be the city's motto, it was an impressive boast. But, the jobs might be harder to get just because of that. Or it could be one place that reserves jobs for kids to get experience. In fact, he could see the city paying Nova to hold those jobs for teens to keep them just a little safer.
But why hadn't the coffee company been damaged even once?
A tingle spread from his spine as the bank door swung open as if it had been pushed by a battering ram. The glass shattered on the brick, and someone rammed into Shirou's back. He stumbled forward as several police cars rounded the corner, their sirens blaring and lights flashing brightly.
Shirou just managed to catch himself when he felt an arm wrap about his neck and smooth cold steel press to his temple.
"You get back, or I'm gonna blow his brains out!"
Shirou sighed. There went any chance that his luck was getting better.
"You should just drop the money and the gun.'
The gun was pressed more firmly to his head. "You shut up! You don't want to get me angry!"
The image of a gun's hammer being pulled back appeared in his head. "Trace on," he muttered.
"What did you just say? HUH?!"
"I said this is your last chance. You can still put the gun down."
"Just shut up!"
Shirou reasoned that no one could say that he didn't try to warn the man. Taking a breath, Shirou tilted his head back to get a look at the man holding a gun to his head. The hammer shot forward. A blue light illuminated the gunman's face even as it contorted in fear. Shirou twisted and grabbed the gun and ripped it from his hands.
"What are you?"
Shirou laughed, "I was just discussing that yesterday! So we ended up with the distinction of alien."
A look of sheer terror crossed the man's face.
"Son, you need to give me the gun." A police officer said as he moved closer, his hand extended.
Shirou's eyes went wide, and he extended the gun, handle first, to the officer as quickly as possible. "Sorry."
The police officer blinked and then laughed as the officers around him rushed forward to take the robber. "What do you have to be sorry for, kid? You didn't even use your powers to hurt the guy who had a gun to your head!"
Shirou shrugged. "I'd rather not hurt anyone."
The officer nodded, "Now did I hear you say you were an alien?"
Slowly Shirou nodded, a knot of worry forming in his stomach. What the hell did he just get himself into? Best to nip the issue in the bud. He really didn't feel like running from the police. Or fighting them.
"I did—"
"By chance, did you get registered yet?"
"Registered?"
The officer nodded and pulled the hat from his head. "It might seem silly, but Earth's been getting a fair number of extrasolar refugees these days."
As he was talking, he turned his hat about to show Shirou the inside where a paper had been taped.
'You are not an alien. Say that there's been a miscommunication and walk away.'
The paper was old, wrinkled, and streaked with oils. Shirou could only wonder how many times he'd used it.
A better question was why he pushed the line of questioning without listening when Shirou tried to tell him it was a joke in the first place. Still, if the officer thought he was helping, who was Shirou to turn him down. If he tried to take him anywhere, however, the police would see just how quickly they could give him the slip.
Shirou made a show of widening his eyes and shaking his head. "It was just a joke my sister was making. Sorry for the misunderstanding."
The officer shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Happens from time to time. Now let's get your statement out of the way real quick."
Shirou nodded and related his story to the officer. All thirty seconds of it. And then he did it again, and 'just to make sure a third time. Finally, the officer clapped him on the shoulder and walked away.
As he watched the officer leave, Shirou couldn't help but wonder when exactly the man had lost his mind.
As the car carrying the officer pulled out of sight, Shirou sighed and started towards the coffee shop. A hand reached out and caught him by the elbow for a moment before backing away.
"Excuse me?"
Turning, Shirou found the Bank Manager there with a wide smile on his face. "Can I help you?"
The manager shook his head. "No, I wanted to thank you and ask if you still wanted a job?"
"I thought you said there weren't any?"
The manager pointed at the door where paramedics carried a slightly heavy man out of the building on a stretcher. "I'm sorry to say Clem suffered a heart attack. He'll be out for a good while."
Was he actually replacing the guy before he was off the property? Harsh.
The manager went wide-eyed, "oh, oh no," he raised his hands. "You're not replacing Clem. You're covering for him until he's back on his feet."
Shirou quirked an eyebrow. Did he say that out loud? "Don't you have people on the list ahead of me?"
Without a moment of hesitation, the manager nodded. "Several files worth, but none of them just saved the bank quite a bit. We'd like to show our gratitude."
So the man wanted to make himself look good by hiring the guy who stopped the robber and calls that showing his gratitude? Well, Shirou could live with that. He nodded.
"I'll take the job."
"Wonderful. Now, because of the robbery, the systems are down and likely will be tomorrow, as well as a safety precaution against those with electrical powers you see. So we'll have to wait for the day after that to get your paperwork into the systems, so we'll just do it then. So, for tonight, head to Bancroft House. The reservation will be under the Bank of Perez."
Shirou nodded and then froze.
"I don't have any form of I.D."
That stopped the manager cold. "Well, you could go to all the necessary offices to get it replaced. There's a small fee for most, but—"
Shirou shook his head. "I'm afraid neither my sister nor I have ever had identification here.
He tapped on his chin for a moment before nodding. "Very well, I'll see to that as well."
Maybe he'd been too quick to deny the change to his luck? "Thanks so much," Shirou exclaimed.
The manager offered a strained smile. "Please don't worry about it. We can't allow our hero to remain down on his luck, now can we? He extended a business card that Shirou took and looked over.
"If you need anything, just give me a call."
Two teens descended from above, one with orange skin and the other wrapped in a blue cloak. They were joined a moment later as a descending pterodactyl morphed into a green-skinned teen. They seemed surprised by something, but they didn't offer Shirou a second look beyond a cursory glance.
Pulling his attention away from the colorful teens, he looked at the manager.
"Thanks."
The manager nodded before turning to several cashiers and calling out something. "It's my pleasure. Unfortunately, I have to deal with something. Please excuse me."
Shirou didn't have to say anything as the bank manager was replaced by a woman carrying a channel seven microphone.
"Young man, I'm Samantha Chang, Channel Seven News. May I ask you a few questions?"
He took a step back. "Wha?"
"Perfect. Now can I ask your name?"
The microphone was suddenly right in front of him. "I'm Shirou."
"Well, Shirou, we've already seen the police footage of you disarming your assailant. It was a rather impressive display of heroics. But, can I ask, were you not afraid?"
The microphone was in his face in a flash. "Uh, no? I mean,"
"So you weren't afraid. Sounds to me like Jump City might have another up-and-coming hero!"
The microphone came again, and this time Shirou took hold of it as he violently shook his head. "Sorry, but no. Now, if you'll excuse me."
Pushing the microphone away, Shirou strode off down the street.
"Shirou, we've got just a few more questions! Was this an audition to join the Titans? That blue light was your power? What does it do?"
Shirou stopped and looked at the woman before looking at one of the nearby police officers. "I'm pretty sure this is harassment. But if you leave me alone, I won't call over that police officer."
The woman seemed taken aback. When Shirou walked away, she didn't even try to follow.
Shirou made a beeline for the first person who didn't look like a tourist. A middle-aged woman walking her dog.
"Excuse me, miss. By chance, could you direct me to Bancroft House?"
She looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "Can't you just use your phone to get the directions?"
Shaking his head, Shirou pulled out his pockets. "I don't have one."
The woman's eye twitched as she pulled her own phone out. "Who doesn't have a cell phone in this day and age? Even dumpster dave has a phone!" She mumbled as she began poking at the device in her hands.
"It's at R and Lincoln, So about six blocks that way." The woman said and pointed off to the right without looking up from the phone.
"Thanks."
She waved him off as she started back down the street without looking up from her phone.
Now he just had to get Miyu and tell her the news.
Elsewhere, in an alley on the other end of the city, a young man huddled beneath his jacket against the morning biting cold. Beneath his eyes, dark rings had formed, and his once healthy pallor had gone pale.
He twitched again. The impulse, the call, it was almost a voice, whispering silently into his ears, begging him to come. To retrieve. To make them both whole.
He clutched at his head and began rocking back and forth. He wanted to do what the voice said, really he did, but he hadn't slept since before he'd gotten on the bus in Steel City. It didn't help that he saw his mother's swinging fists every time he closed his eyes, her sallow face twisted in rage and madness as she accused him of being like his father.
Oh, how he wished she could see! He could have left countless times, leaving her to sway in the wind without a soul to spare her the time of day, but he hadn't. That alone should have told her he wasn't like his father. But, he honestly doubted she could tell the difference between the real world and the sauce-induced nightmare projected before her eyes.
"But now, now isn't the time for that." But, he muttered, "that will come later, and she'll see that I wasn't turning away from her, but her from me."
He shook as he pushed himself to his feet, swaying as he moved. "Coming, I'm coming. Please, just stop for a moment, please." He groaned as he reached the alley's exit. The calling didn't stop, but he relaxed slightly as the call grew less frantic and sweeter.
He recoiled as a hand clasped his shoulder. "Kid, you okay?" The man asked. He was a large man, both in height and girth, with crystalline eyes like diamonds and a thick blond beard.
He couldn't help it. He snorted. Did people ask that? Talk about cliché. He thought, and his eyes grew wide as he realized he'd also spoken them aloud. He was already stepping back when the man responded, though it wasn't with a backhand like he would've received from his mother.
The man chuckled and scratched at the back of his head as he turned his attention skyward. "Yeah, it could be a bit. But ya know, sometimes people need a helping hand. So how bout it, kid? You okay?"
"I'm fine, thanks." He answered, and though the call had grown sour from his stillness and roared in his ears like a banshee trying to sing karaoke. He did his best to hold himself straight as he continued down the road, thankful the man didn't stop him.
He had somewhere to be, after all, and something told him he was going to be there soon.
So on he walked, each step straining to pull away from the last vestiges of his already drained vigor. "Coming," he muttered to the beckoning song, "I'm coming."
And the song it sang was sweeter than any other he'd ever heard.
"So you're going to be working in a bank?"
It was the first thing Miyu said after he'd finished telling her about everything that had happened.
Shirou nodded. "As a security guard, temporarily at least."
Miyu nodded. "I can see it. Mild-mannered bank employee by day and Sir Stick 'Em by night!"
She punched the air above her in victory and shook his head. Apparently, she'd dubbed his job dull enough to serve a place in the superhero story she was building for him.
"Miyu, I'm not going to be a Hero." He tried to remind the girl as gently as he could, but she brushed past his words as if they'd never exited his mouth.
"We just need to build a bunker beneath the place and get you the Stick 'Em cycle." She paused to look at Shirou. "Would you be up to learning to drive a motorcycle?"
"Miyu, I'm not interested in being a hero." He said again, this time louder than before. Still, they didn't reach the girl.
"I suppose you don't really need a motorcycle. You can just jump from building to building! So do we want a cape on your costume? I think it would look more impressive if you were jumping. But it is a potential hazard."
"Miyu," He sighed. "Look, before anyone can become anything, we have to get set first. Okay?"
She turned to him with a large smile on her face. "Okay, Shirou!"
Shirou nodded. "He was also kind enough to set us up with a hotel room until we've managed to get ourselves settled."
She looked up at him so fast Shirou thought she might get whiplash. "He set us up with a hotel room? Just like that."
He could understand her suspicion, but it was still a better option than what they had. Better Miyu stay somewhere with a roof that didn't leak.
"Apparently they have an account with this place, Bancroft House."
"Bancroft House," Miyu said as if she were tasting the word. "What do you think its like? I'm picturing an old european styled building that someone made into a bed and breakfast."
"I'll be happy if it keeps the wind out." Seeing her frown he was quick to add, "it wouldn't surprise me if it was a skyscraper that thinks that calling it a house gives it a homey feel."
Miyu giggled.
They were both wrong.
Bancroft House was a three-story brownstone building that somehow managed to scream opulence. Above the entrance was a massive stained glass window featuring a maiden in white holding a massive one-handed axe of gold. Stone lions guarded the front of the building, and two doormen held the door.
All in all, it seemed like the type of building you'd see in an old mob movie.
"It's so pretty!" Miyu said as they approached the building.
It truly was. Whichever artisan made it had a true gift for the craft.
"Excuse me, may I ask if you have a reservation?" A man in a simple black suit asked.
"Come on, Cane, they look like urchins. They couldn't afford to lick the dog crap off the step."
"Vanderhaus, don't you remember when you saw Mr. Sindhurst walking around in his underwear last year covered in gunk? What did you do?
Vanderhaus sighed, "I called him a psycho and attacked him."
"And was he a psycho?"
"No, but in my defense, who knew that an imbalance of meds could do that. And these two. They look like they've been sleeping underneath an overpass!"
Shirou cleared his throat. "We have a reservation under "Bank of Perez."
Cane checked over the tablet in his hands before nodding. "It seems Mr. Pregar booked you the Harvest suite Mr. Emiya."
"You've got to be kidding me! Seriously, what are the chances that he ends up being someone important as soon as I call a ragamuffin out?" Vanderhaus snapped as he pulled the tablet from his compatriot's hands.
"Holy hell, it even describes you as someone who looks homeless."
Shirou nearly dropped his head into his hands. He could read Cane's mind without any issue too. 'You're not supposed to say that part out loud!'
"My apologies Mr. Emiya. Please follow me." Cane stepped up the stairs and opened the door.
"Cane, shouldn't we take them around the back until they get cleaned up?" Vanderhaus hissed.
"Would you just shut up! Mr. And Ms. Emiya, please forgive my colleague. He often lets his mouth work before engaging his brain."
Shirou waved him off. "It's not a problem, and if you'd like us to go through the back until we've cleaned up a bit, I understand—"
"Of course not! This is the Bancroft House, Sir. You are our treasured guest! Now, if you'd follow me."
He guided them up through the hall and up to the desk. The desk clerk didn't mention their appearance as she checked them in and handed them a plastic card. The tag on her shirt read Nancy.
"These will let you into your room. Please enjoy your stay here at Bancroft House, and if you need anything else, Mr. Emiya,. Ms. Emiya, please just call the front desk. Our extension is one."
Shirou nodded, "thank you."
She smiled and gestured to Cane. "Mr. Cane will show you to your room personally."
Cane smiled as he inclined his head and gestured toward the elevator. "If you'd please follow me."
He leads them to the third floor and the third door down the hall.
"If you'd just use your key."
He gestured to Shirou, and Shirou pressed the white card to the door. A green light appeared above the lock, and Cane swung the door open wide.
The room was massive. The living room alone was large enough to hold the school's swimming pool, even if just barely.
Miya laughed and bolted through the room, stopping long enough to get a good look at each one before she moved on.
"There's only one bedroom," Miyu informed him when she returned.
"That's fine. I'll just sleep on the couch." Shirou turned to Cane and inclined his head. "Thank you for the courtesy you've shown us."
The larger man shook his head. "A person is a person, and sometimes they're just down on their luck."
Shirou nodded. "I wish I had something for you."
Cane shook his head again, "here at the Bancroft, we are paid exceptionally well and thus are not allowed to accept tips from our guests. But thank you for the thought. Please just call the desk if you need anything at all."
With that, he made his way back out the door.
Miyu spun around before turning to Shirou. "Would you like to take a bath first?"
Shirou shook his head. "Enjoy yourself. I'll call for dinner and let you know when it's arrived. Is there anything you want?"
"Pasta!" She called over her shoulder as she walked towards where he presumed the bathroom was and bolted down the hall toward it.
Making his way to the phone, Shirou picked it up along with the room service menu and pressed the call button for the front desk.
"Front Desk, this is Nancy. How can I help you, Mr. Emiya?"
"Yeah, the house special—"
"The Pasta all'Arrabbiata?"
"That's the one. How is that?"
"It's amazing. Gino and Tommy have been perfecting that recipe since they started this place!"
Hearing the utter want in her voice had Shirou's stomach complaining. He patted it comfortingly. "Then Nancy, I'll take two orders of that."
"Of course. We'll have it up to you in thirty minutes."
After thanking the girl, Shirou hung up the phone and settled on to one of the taller bar chairs and sighed.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The knocking rang through the room. Shirou gazed at the red numbers on the alarm clock before closing his eyes. Whoever it was would realize they needed to come back at an actual decent hour.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Or not. Groaning, Shirou rolled from his bed and wrapped the robe around himself, and made his way out of his room. It was as he reached the living room the knocking came again, and Miyu peaked out of her room.
"Shirou, what's going on?"
Shaking his head, he pointed at the door. "Someone at the door. Get back to bed. I'm sending them away, then I'll do the same."
It seemed to take a few seconds to catch up with what he was saying before she yawned and turned back to her bed. "kayy." She called as she yawned again.
Shirou all but threw the door open and glowered at a plump man with a pointed nose and a monocle. He brushed at his three-piece suit and picked up a briefcase before tucking his umbrella beneath his arm.
"Mr. Emiya, I do apologize for the late hour. However, I'm on a tight schedule. Therefore, I must be off within the next hour.
Shirou blinked. The man obviously knew him, but Shirou couldn't say the same, so he said the only thing he could. "Huh?"
Considering how late it was, he thought it made perfect sense.
"Clearly, you are not a night owl. So allow me to start again. My name is Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, and you, Shirou Emiya, have done me a service when you helped my cousin's husband during a robbery earlier today."
"Gordon sent you?"
He didn't seem particularly pleased by Shirou's phrasing but inclined in his head. "Indeed. He mentioned that you and your sister require papers."
Shirou nodded that the man in front of him was a criminal was clear. Still, Kiritsugu had shown him just how useful people with less reputable skills could be. "What do you need from me?"
"Just fill out some papers and smile when I tell you." The man said. He snapped his fingers, and six men, all more muscular than Cobblepot, power-walked into the room carrying duffel bags.
"Shirou?" Miyu asked, "What's going on?"
"I suppose this is your sister?" Cobblepot asked.
Shirou nodded before turning to address his sister. "Miyu, you should get some sleep."
"But I want to know what's going on."
"We're going to be going over some paperwork to help get the two of you squared away, dear."
Shirou stiffened. The man had just said one of Miyu's trigger words. Whirling, he gulped as he spotted the gleam in her eyes and her mouth thin.
"I love paperwork!" She cried with a smile.
"Take a seat. I'll get you a pen." Shirou said as he slumped.
"May I ask what just happened?"
Shirou shot him a crooked grin. "You've just offered my sister a chance to do paperwork."
He stopped and pointed at Miyu. She'd taken the stack and held it up into the air.
"Mr. Emiya, with all respect, I hardly have the time to allow your sister her fantasy."
Shirou's smile faded, and he regarded the man in front of him before he pointed back at his sister. "I assure you Miyu is more than capable enough to fill out that paperwork."
Oswald looked more than a little doubtful. Shirou shrugged and took a pen off the dresser and tossed it to his sister. She wasted no time in uncapping it, and after a few seconds, she began to write.
"Leave the papers to her. What else do we need?"
Oswald gave Miyu a look before gesturing to his men, who had set up a white screen, several lights, reflectors, and a large camera.
"We'll need a picture of you. Your sister can just get one the normal way when the time comes."
One of the men offered Shirou a few different shirts. After looking them over and discarding the orange island shirts from the running, he settled on a deep blue shirt with a pure white stripe.
Taking the shirt, Shirou started to retreat to his room before he looked at his sister. She was doing paperwork and enjoying every moment of it. But he could hardly leave these strangers with Miyu. It didn't matter that they were doing the two of them a favor.
Shirou pulled at the belt of his robe before and, a moment later, dropped it to the ground. He focused ahead, pulled the shirt on, and headed to the white screen. "This is where I smile, right?"
The penguin nodded. "Exactly, and may I say, what an impressive collection of scars."
Shirou shrugged as he plastered a smile on his face.
"I guess."
The camera flashed once, twice, three times before the man looked over at Oswald. "Three good?"
"I'd recommend a few more. Our business is based around redundancy, after all."
"Yes, Mr. Cobblepot."
The camera flashed a few more times before the camera was pulled off the stand and offered to his boss.
"Yes, these will do fine. Now we just need the papers."
Miyu frowned, "I'm sorry, it'll be just a few more minutes."
She was already past the halfway mark on the papers. As far as Shirou was concerned, she was performing well above what anyone could expect.
"You're doing great, Miyu, don't push yourself." He said as he pulled off the shirt and pulled his robe back on. Finally, he offered the shirt back to the underling who'd offered it to him at the start.
"Keep the shirt as a gift," Oswald said as he moved to stand beside Miyu.
Shirou started to decline and paused. Even after washing his shirt and sweater, they weren't what he would call clothes to go out in. No, they'd be better described as rags in the making. Shirou nodded. "Thank you."
"The pleasure is truly mine. It's not often I have clients who are pleasant to work with."
Like his cousin's husband before him, Oswald produced a card and offered it to Shirou.
"If you need anything, feel free to call. Our prices are always reasonable."
Something about the way the birdlike man said that Shirou found he didn't believe him. Still, Shirou accepted the card and made a show of looking it over before nodding. "My thanks."
Oswald waved a hand, "it's only good business."
Shirou took Oswald's extended hand and walked the man and his underlings to the door.
The criminal vanished as quickly as he came, and Shirou closed the door he found Miyu standing there.
"He waddles!" She whispered.
Shirou nodded, glad that his sister had enough sense not to do that to the man. There was no way the man would have reacted well, and he didn't feel like getting blood on his new shirt.
"Come on, we need to get back to bed."
She whined but shuffled her way back into her room, and Shirou made his way into his own. He fell into his bed and spent a while listening to Miyu slowly fall into a deep sleep. Then, just a few moments later, he was out cold himself.
As he started readying himself for the day, he looked at the ragged state of his clothes and made two decisions. One, they were going shopping; two, he'd talk to her about her nighttime adventures in town. After all, it couldn't hurt to hear her out before he decided on what he'd need to do.
"Miyu!" He called as he stepped from his room. He'd half expected to feel bad about waking her after she'd had a long night, but he didn't. When he didn't get a response, he called again. "Miyu, we've got places to be."
Still, no response came as minutes ticked by.
"Miyu! Come quick! Someone has eaten all the donuts!"
He could vaguely hear her say, "What?!" Followed by a thump that was no doubt her falling from the bed.
"Onii-chan, who did it?" She asked as she shuffled down the hall toward him. A blanket was wrapped around her, and her hair hung over half of her face like a curtain.
"Get yourself ready. I left you enough hot water. We're going shopping." Although, seeing how exhausted she was, a smidgeon of guilt worked its way into the older teen, he crushed it as she yawned and her dress from the night before was visible. The clips that had changed her dress into something shorter were still half in place.
It took her a few moments to register what he said and when she did, she began shuffling back down the hall. "Kayyy." Her yawned response drifted to him from over her shoulder.
Shirou settled himself in to wait. Ten minutes passed, and Miyu still hadn't returned. He could hear the water rattling about in the pipes, so he knew she'd made it into the shower at least. He began to chew on his cheek. Finally, after another twenty minutes, where he'd decided to go and knock on her bedroom door to make sure she hadn't turned the shower on and fallen asleep while she'd waited for it to heat or something, Miyu arrived.
AtT that moment, he could only admit his sister was brilliant. No one who didn't already know would have guessed the pleated dress she wore was the only one she owned. Another stab of guilt came, and this one struck home. He couldn't deny needing to purchase some. He should have gotten them sooner.
"Hey, Onii-chan, can we go to the bookstore today?" She asked.
He nodded before he'd even thought it over. "We'll see if we have the time." He amended. It was an answer he'd heard a number of his classmates give as the reason they knew their parents were saying no. Silently, he congratulated himself. There was no way Miyu could know what the answer meant.
Her cheers told him that he was right. She had no idea at all. She ran back down the hall, his footsteps thundering on the floor. She came back, adjusting the overly cute pink backpack she'd worn when they'd gone to meet Oswald Cobblepot.
As the siblings walked into the bookstore, Shirou hung his head in defeat. "You're so weak," he told himself as Miyu power-walked toward the shelves labeled fiction.
The golden-eyed youth was ready to watch his sister all but prance amongst the books when a section sign caught his attention. Cooking. He nearly ran to the selection and began pouring over the titles: "Chef Morrison's Many Meals." "Twenty-two easy meals you'd never think to make." "Haggis, Dreadful Delicacy." "Vegan Meals you'd never expect to taste so good."
He'd loaded each of them into his arms and navigated his way to the front of the store, where several tables had been set so customers could peruse their potential purchases before buying. They were all full, well, not all of them. There was a single table that had just one resident. She had violet hair, eyes, a red gem on her forehead, and grey skin. But, of course, that was not the oddest part; Sakura had plum-colored hair, after all. No, it was the fact that she wore a hooded cloak in dark blue. Some thought began niggling at him in the back of his mind, begging for attention, but despite his efforts, he got nothing. Just a sense of Deja Vu.
She looked more than a touch disgruntled as she poured over the book in front of her. No doubt her expression was what sent those searching for a table elsewhere. It didn't stop Shirou; however, he settled into the seat across from her and smiled as she looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Can I help you?" She asked in a rough voice, melodious yet gravely in tone.
Shirou shook his head, "Sorry," he said and pointed at the other tables. "I understand if you want your privacy, but all the other seats are filled.
She took the time to look around and seemed honestly surprised at how crowded the other tables were. "Oh."
Shirou gave a small smile and extended a hand, "I'm Shirou Emiya."
She looked at him as if his hand might be hiding a viper of some kind but, after a moment, took his hand and shook it firmly. "Raven."
She stared at him as if he were some sort of puzzle piece that didn't fit, then promptly went back to reading. Shirou followed suit. He was a few pages into "Twenty-two Easy Meals You'd Never Think To Make." Looking over a recipe for a midwestern monstrosity of a meal called "Barbeque Nachos," or as Shirou dubbed it as he looked it over, 'The artery clogger special,' when Miyu came prancing back holding two books in her hands.
The titles indented in the spine and written in gold calligraphy scrawl gave him pause. "Understanding Social Cues," and "Harry Potter." The first brought him up short, guilt heaped atop him. The second looked like it might have been a fantasy, what with it having a boy trying to catch a small golden ball while riding a broomstick on the cover.
"Can I have these Onii-chan?"
Shirou nodded, but Miyu wasn't looking at him any longer. "You're Raven!" She seemed excited and rushed around the table to the older girl. "Can I have your autograph?"
He watched on as Raven seemed to be taken aback at the question. She stared at his sister as if she'd grown a second head and a series of thirteen horns on each of them. Finally, she spoke. "You want my autograph? You don't think I'm creepy?"
Miyu shook her head, "Of course not. You're my favorite Titan!"
Two things occurred to him at that moment. First, the niggling feeling in his head suddenly made sense at the word Titan. Raven was a member of the Teen Titans and the one who supposedly could use magic. Apparently, she was the one who had become the shadowy bird, likely a raven, that traveled across the ground. And second, Miyu had a favorite Titan after only being in the world for about two weeks.
Raven seemed more than a touch surprised and seemed to be having difficulty with something but gave Miyu a soft smile. "Sure." She scrawled her name across a piece of paper, along with something else, and pressed it into Miyu's hand. Then Miyu made a sound Shirou had heard only once before, and then he wasn't sure if it was actually there. She 'squeed' and flung herself at the girl.
Three books from a nearby case flung themselves from their shelves, and Raven looked away, her cheeks tinged red.
"Raven, this is my brother! He's going to be a Hero like you one day. I keep telling him his name should be Sir. Stick Em, but he doesn't li—" Miyu was cut off as Shirou's hand clamped over her mouth.
Shirou was already moving to help pry his sister from the girl when a bouncy tune began ringing from inside Raven's cloak. Dark energy formed around Miyu as the female Titan gently separated his little sister from her as she pulled out a round device marked with a large T.
"Raven, we have reports that the Hive is wreaking havoc downtown." A young man's voice emanated from the device. The older girl turned and smiled at Miyu while giving a small wave before she slipped into her own shadow and disappeared.
Miyu bounced on her feet and clapped, "That was so cool!"
Conflicting urges welled within the older Emiya. He wanted to go and stop this Hive that was doing enough damage to the town and its people that it called for heroes to intervene. But, on the other hand, he could hardly leave Miyu alone even if she'd proven herself capable the night before. In the end, he chose to make sure Miyu stayed safe. He'd never have forgiven himself if something had happened to her while he was away.
While Miyu was still busy gushing, Shirou returned the books he'd taken and glanced at them mournfully. Silently he swore he'd make a trip to the library and see if he could find a few copies he could borrow. After all, there was no reason to spend money before he'd acquire a steady job, at least not on himself. He collected Miyu and her books and guided them into the line.
Screams began to fill the air, and a car drove through the glass doors at the front of the store. Shirou grabbed Miyu, reinforced himself, and launched them into the air a fair distance away from the door. Unfortunately, the car ended up plowing through the first shelf of books before it managed to stop. After everything settled, Shirou placed Miyu down on the table they'd landed on. Then, skirting around the shelves, he made his way to the car with a number of the people around the store following his example.
The woman at the wheel was unconscious. Her head was against the wheel and was bleeding profusely. He pulled on the door's handle, but it didn't budge.
"Step back." He said.
They didn't listen at first, but they moved when the door began to creak and groan beneath his grasp. He peeled the door back, ignoring the breaking glass until with a loud "Bang!" It popped open.
Over the years, he'd learned a fair amount about first aid to be a more effective hero of justice. So, instead of pulling the bleeding woman from the car, he began a preliminary check, vitals, breathing, possible fractures, and other things. She'd had a broken arm and wrist, likely a fractured skull, and a heavily bleeding contusion on her head.
"The ambulance is on its way." A member of the crowd called to Shirou, to which the youth nodded.
Slowly, he pulled her from the car just in case he'd missed something and laid her flat on the floor. Several others of the crowd pushed forward themselves and quickly took Shirou's place as a small hand found its way into his own.
"Onii-chan!" Miyu said and pulled on his hand.
Shirou turned and saw what had his sister so flustered. A person was at the entrance of where the car came in. Dressed in skintight clothes, black and yellow in color and with a stylized H on his chest surrounded by a hexagon and carrying an identical shield on his arm, Shirou didn't think he was there to help. It may have been his smile. Or maybe it was the way he didn't call out from the entrance. It didn't really matter.
All that did was the fact that the guy seemed to be all too pleased that a car came through the building and was close to Miyu.
Gently he pulled his hand from Miyu's. "Miyu, go stand with the others. This won't take more than a minute."
"But Shirou."
He looked at her and smiled. "It'll be fine. Now go on."
She nodded and ran off. Shirou took the moment to focus on the shield and began structural analysis. Made of a tempered aluminum alloy and forged not by human hand but by those of a machine as one of many it became not a defensive tool but a weapon. The hexagonal shield held an edge as sharp as a razor and had been used to cut through metal when thrown. Defensively, it could even take a blast from Cyborgs canon and come out the other side without a scratch.
Shirou shook his head, it wasn't the oddest blade he'd ever seen but oddly it came close.
"Mighty brave of ya, but I don't hurt kids. So, you get out of my way. I won't hurt you either, sir."
Shirou raised an eyebrow. "So what? You're shopping?"
He tilted his hand one way and then the other as if trying to say kinda-sorta. "I got me a date later, see, and she's all sorts of interested in this one story, see. Wheel of Time, I think it was. So I mean to get it for her. So now you tell me, sir, you gonna get outta my way, or am I going through you?"
Shirou sighed. "If you had just walked in instead of sending a car in first, I probably would have ignored you. But my sister's in here."
The shield-carrying villain snorted. "Well, that might be brave, but don't do anything you regret. I'm sure your sister would prefer having you around, Sir."
Shirou scratched his cheek, and he whispered as his hand covered his mouth. "Trace on."
The hammer shot forward, and lines of blue began spreading along Shirou's skin. "Don't worry. As soon as I'm done with you, it'll be just her and me the rest of the day."
Done with the niceties, Shirou shot forward and swung. He hit the shield that'd barely been raised in enough time to block, but it did nothing to keep the teen villain from flying back and breaking through the wall.
Shirou blinked and looked at his hand. He hadn't been expecting that.
"Sir, I gotta say, you hit like a tank."
He climbed back through the hole he'd made in his forced ejection of the building and sprinted toward Shirou. Rearing back, he threw the shield. Scooping up a dictionary, Shirou pressed his magical energy into the object and swung it for the shield.
Metal struck the book and flew swiftly through the air as if it were a baseball heading for left field.
Leaning back, Shirou heaved his own tool at the still charging villain striking him in the head. The charge came to a halt as all consciousness fled him.
"I told you! Now you just need to say something witty. Like you should have hit the books before the book hit you." Miyu yelled as she broke away from the crowd and came racing for him.
Shirou hung his head. "Not a hero Miyu," he groaned for what could only be the millionth time. Or at least that's how it felt.
Miyu smiled and turned to face the crowd.
"What do you—" Shirou placed a hand over his sister's mouth before she could get the crowd going. The last thing he wanted to hear was them chanting "sword saint!" Or worse, "sir, stick 'em."
"You even try it, and those books will be put back before we go."
Miyu rolled her eyes and pointed toward a shelf that'd been crushed by the car. "That's where I got those books."
"I'll put them back on another shelf."
The look of pure terror that crossed her face gave Shirou all the proof he needed to know he'd won.
"Come on, let's go pay and get out of here." Shirou groaned.
"We can't leave! You have to tell the police what happened."
Shirou shook his head. "Miyu."
She hung her head as she relented and together they made their way to the counter.
After paying a very disturbed teen girl that looked like she'd rather be hiding beneath the counter, Shirou guided Miyu out the back door.
From there, he all but ran out of the area, which seemed to have already calmed down, and to a small cafe that boasts the best-pulled pork sandwich in Jump City for three years running.
As they walked in, Shirou spotted a bright yellow school bus ferrying kids home. A glance Miyu's way told him she'd seen it too. But she hid her frown as she moved for the door.
But it was something he could do, and it would probably be good for her.
Miyu was more than intelligent. The girl was a genius; if she wasn't, she was close. Moreover, the girl had already made it through several medical books, scientific journals, and the complete works of H.G. Wells. Not to mention that Harry Painter book or whatever it was she'd picked up earlier. He was certain that she'd finish it in no time.
And when she finished, he was certain that if he opened the book to a random page and asked a question, she'd have no trouble answering it.
But the stiff way she spoke to Nancy told him what he already knew. The only person Miyu was comfortable interacting with was him. If it wasn't him, she'd get quiet like with Nancy or gush as she had with Raven at the bookstore. The girl needed to socialize. To make friends. How happy could she be if he was the only person she could really connect with?
"Miyu?" He asked, drawing her attention away from the hamburger in her mouth. "Would you like to go to school?"
"Onii-chan, can I really? Do I get to go to school?" Miyu asked if she was pushing her bacon and pancakes about her plate, almost like she was too nervous or upset to eat.
"I think it's a good idea. We'll look at some of them tomorrow." He announced his decision, resulting in Miyu squealing in delight as she hurled herself off her stool, around the island, and slammed into his side like a tiny joyful missile.
Thank you, thank you, thank you." She chanted as she began to cry.
Shirou blinked and patted her on the back as he chuckled nervously and looked around the room. A number of the other patrons were looking at him. Many were smiling.
As he turned his attention back to Miyu a television caught his focus. It was showing off a large museum that was surrounded by police cars. Below the silent newscaster was a caption.
The Magpie has struck again! The elusive thief has now managed to break into five museums and make her escape without anyone being the wiser, even here in Central city.
Well whoever the thief had some serious skill, but it didn't matter. Miyu's tears had nearly petered out. So maybe it was time to get to the clothes part of the shopping adventure.
"So what say you we get you some clothes? And maybe a cellphone?"
Miyu sniffled and looked up at him. If she smiled any wider, Shirou was afraid she might break something.
"Yes please!"
Ten minutes later they were in another shop on the other side of the mall and Shirou sat in a stiff chair looking down at a magazine article talking about how to properly match clothing and styles. It wasn't particularly interesting but it was better than nothing.
"Do you think anyone will get mad that you beat up the bad guy and then left?"
Her call came from the dressing room.
Shirou shrugged and looked at the destruction scattered across the street.
"I don't see why. I think it'll be fine. Besides, they must be used to people stopping villains when they start attacking."
Hmm.
"Kay." She danced out of the dressing room and spun in a circle showing off the yellow dress she'd chosen.
"What do you think Onii-chan? Does it make me look cute?"
Shirou nodded, "You look adorable."
"Now I want to try on that one!" She pointed at the jeans and t-shirt she'd laid out beside Shirou.
It was her tenth outfit. Of them, she'd decided she'd wanted seven so far. Shirou wasn't quite sure how generous Gordon was willing to be with their spending, and he really didn't want to push it.
"Do you think I'll need a uniform?"
Shirou shrugged before realizing that she couldn't see him. "Maybe, but we'll worry about that when we decide which school you want to attend."
"This is the last one, Miyu."
"Kay, but that's what you said last time!"
He winced. She was right. In fact, he'd said it the last two times. He stood. "Your right."
"Nonononononononononono." She rushed up and pushed him back a bit. "Just let me try out this last one okay? It'll be the last, I promise!"
Shirou nodded and settled himself back into his seat as she closed herself back into the changing room.
"Sir." A woman called quietly; Shirou looked up and nodded. She walked into the open area and held the clothing in her arms. "I believe these are the ones you were looking for?"
"Those are perfect. Those are the right size?"
She nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Perfect. Feel free to take them up to the front. We'll be up there momentarily with our other purchases."
She nodded and swept back into the racks as Miyu popped her head out of the changing room.
"Onii-chan, are you talking to someone?"
Shirou shrugged and waved her off while trying to ignore the cold sweat that suddenly formed on the back of his neck. "Just one of the ladies who work here making sure we were getting everything we were looking for."
She withdrew her head, and Shirou sighed in relief. Her head popped back out.
"What was that?"
"Nothing Miyu. Now hurry up. We still need to decide what we're doing for dinner."
She disappeared behind the door again and stepped out a minute later wearing the blue jeans and pink top. But it didn't look like the t-shirt he handed her. One glance at the bright pink shirt with the word fashion printed across the front in blocky letters, and he understood.
"Well?" She asked
"You look great. Come on, you can wear that out." He raised a hand and a teen girl that looked ready to pass out wandered up.
"How can I help ya."
"My sister would like to wear those out."
She nodded. "Gotcha. Just give me a few minutes, and we'll get you all squared away."
True to her word, they were out the door less than five minutes later, with Shirou carrying the mass of bags on his arm.
"Onii-chan, that bag was there before we got to the counter."
Shirou nodded. "It was."
"If you're not telling me what it is, does that mean it's for me?"
Shirou nodded again and sighed. Of course, the girl had to be perceptive on top of being smart. He couldn't help but wonder how many other brothers had sisters that were too smart for their own good? How did they deal with them?
Miyu squealed and lunged for the present, but Shirou raised it up and out of her reach. After she'd jumped for it a few times he told her.
"Not till we get home."
She crossed her arms in front of her chest and adjusted her walking speed until she was powerwalking toward the exit.
"Don't you want to stop for anything else?"
She shook her head. No, he didn't suppose she would. He smiled. It was nice to know that for all that happened and that Miyu'd been forced to grow up, she could still act like a kid.
She marched them out of the store, down the street past all the damage created by the villains, and back to Bancroft House. Once there she marched directly up to Cane and looked at him critically.
"My brother got me a gift, and he won't give it to me!"
Shirou couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing as Cane chuckled himself.
"Such is life at times, young miss. I'm sure you'll get it when the time is right."
Miyu hummed as though she didn't quite believe him but wasn't ready to argue about it.
"Mr. Emiya, a pleasure to see you. A note has been left for you at the desk."
Shirou nodded, "thanks, Mr. Cane."
The doorman nodded and pulled the door open wide. Miyu skipped her way up the stairs and did a small spin as she entered the lobby.
"Come on, Shirou! We just have to get upstairs, right?"
He shook his head. "We have to stop and get the note first."
"Awww." She groaned.
Nancy however, had the message ready as he walked up to the counter and it ended up being more of a drive-by than an actual stop. Miyu was practically bouncing as they entered the elevator.
However, as the elevator began to rise, the color drained from her admittedly already pale face. "Shirou?"
"Yes, Miyu?" He asked.
She slung herself to his side and hugged him for all she was worth. "Thank you so much."
He looked at her, surprised for a moment, before lowering his hand to lay it on top of her head. "You're very welcome."
"EEEE! It's a kitty-onesie! It's so cute!
Blinking, Shirou traced where she was looking and found her face had more or less been pushed into the bag's opening.
"Miyu."
She laughed and danced away from him. He couldn't help himself he smiled.
"Come on, we still need to decide what we're having for dinner."
"I want steak! Succulent, juicy steak!"
She announced it as if it were the final word on the subject.
Sara sighed as they pulled into Byrnes Auction House. Just hours ago, someone had attacked the other carrier. Unlike the other, however, the drivers survived even if they'd both been left in a coma.
She pushed open her door and slipped, the gun raised from her seat. On the other side, Tom was doing the same, an exact mirror they'd practiced for hours when they'd first started running pricey trinkets around the country.
From the building stepped a man who put the "heavy" into heavy set. He rubbed his hands together and awkwardly ran the distance between the door and the truck.
"Where is it?" He jubilantly asked.
Sara reached into her truck and pulled out a clipboard, and held it out. "You know the drill Mr. Connor's."
"It's doctor." The man grumbled and straightened his coat before taking the clipboard. "Ms. Welling, it's a pleasure as always."
Sara rolled her eyes. "Let's just get this over with. I have a couple of funerals to plan, and oh, next time."
Dr. Connor looked ready to argue before deflating. "Very well." He jotted down his signature a few more times before passing back to Sara and leaving his hand extended.
Pulling the book from the cab, she dropped it into his hands.
"And Connor. You're one bucket of fried chicken away from looking like a fat Colonel. It's gross." Tom called as he got back into the car.
"Yes, thank you, Thomas. You've made that abundantly clear before." Dr. Connor said as he tore the paper away to a book bound in green scales, and at the center gleaming like a gem rested a circular plane of ruby.
"The demonomicon, it'll be the perfect centerpiece for my occult-themed auction!" He ran his sausage fingers over the book's spine and laughed merrily. If he did it right, this would be the last auction he had ever bothered with. Just one last payday! It was perfect!
He pulled the lobby door open and winced as the burst of AC-cooled air washed over him. As soon as he stepped inside, everyone's eyes were on him. It only lasted a moment before they turned back to their tasks.
"Mr. Emiya, thank you for coming in!" Gordon said as he strolled up to Shirou, his hand extended.
Shirou took his hand. "The message you left said there was some documents I'd need to fill out?"
He nodded, "right this way."
He guided Shirou into his office, where a thick stack of paper had been settled before a pen.
Shirou wasn't quite sure what to do. He'd seen larger stacks of paper before but hadn't realized he'd be filling even a smaller one out.
"I know paperwork can be a bother, but it does keep the world spinning," Gordon said as he settled himself behind his desk. He pulled a file from his desk and pushed it over to Shirou.
"Oswald sends his regards."
Shirou said as he opened the package and tilted it towards his hand. A stack of papers slid out along with several cards.
Gordon smiled at him. "What say you we get to this paperwork and we get you out onto the floor for your first day?"
Shirou blinked, he hadn't been expecting to start work so suddenly, but it was fine. "Of course."
"As part of your contract, we are prepared to either lease or sell one of the bank's properties within its holdings. The monthly payments will be drawn directly from your wages."
From a manilla folder, he pulled a sheaf of paper and spread them across the desk. They showed a variety of houses. Of course, some of them would be better described as small mansions rather than large houses, while others looked to be barely more than shacks. All of them looked to be in decent repair, however.
"May I ask how much would be pulled from my wages?"
He adjusted himself in his chair. "Twenty percent is standard." He tapped on a photo featuring a building that had seen better days. "Choose this option and opt to complete the repairs yourself; in three years, it's yours."
He moved to a different one, this one looking like a standard cookie-cutter house. "As all the repairs have been made already, the contract we would offer would be before seven years."
Shirou picked up a photo. The house was about as nice as the previous one, meaning it looked just like it, but it looked to be a bit more remote.
"How about this one?"
"Number four Decan park. The owners passed on, and the bank took ownership of the house. The area is a bit remote as the contractor didn't have the funding, and the project fell through."
Gordon continued rambling as he flipped through his papers before letting loose a quiet "ah ha!"
He pulled a contract from the pile. "At twenty percent, the property will be yours in three years."
He frowned. "Apparently, the area around it has become the stomping grounds for joker wannabe's."
"Joker wannabe's," Shirou repeated. Like the playing card? Well, he wouldn't call that dangerous. Silly sure, but dangerous?"
Gordon nodded. "Teens and young adults who think acting like a psycho is a good idea."
Shirou nodded in understanding. Gangster types. Those he could deal with, and if not, well, persuading them wouldn't be too hard.
"I'll take that one."
"Mr. Emiya, I was under the impression you had a younger sister. Perhaps it might be better to choose another option?"
Shirou waved him off. "I do, but it will be fine."
Gordon didn't look convinced but set the other options aside and slipped a pair of thin glasses onto his face. The thin frames gave him a pinched look.
"As a note, should your position at the bank change, you will be responsible for paying off the house via another method along with the interest that would then apply, or it will default back to the bank."
Taking a pen from the holder, Shirou began reading through the document. Between the need to stop to have Gordon translate bits of legalese and the sheer lengths of the papers Shirou was reading for forty-five minutes. And he wasn't convinced that he hadn't missed a section.
Finally, he scrawled his signature across the bottom of the page and initiated it in all nine places.
Gordon stood, and Shirou followed, taking the other man's hand when he offered it.
"Welcome to the Bank of Perez family."
"Looking forward to being part of it.
~~~~~ Chapter End.