Chapter 4
Hey all, another Monday another Chapter. Here's hoping you enjoy it! This chapter is brought to you by these lovely patrons: 1982, Shirou-AoV, R. BaerChauDavis, PDXDude11, B .Bowler, Biktur, Bookwyrm.
You all Rock! Thank you so much for your support.
As for everyone else, if you'd like to join them you're more than welcome, supporters get access to my chapters early, the right to vote on stories, and make suggestions on the content. Along with access to my own original work. Just head over the place where you can be a patron and look up ScribeSyndicate.
It's my goal to be able to at least partially support myself with my writing and every bit helps.
Don't have the funds to support that way, but want to help? I appreciate it. You can find my stories on my website.
He moved into the building, keeping low, staying close to the walls and sticking as much as he could to the shadows. The scent of blood pressed against his nose. There wasn't, however, a sign of the demon's presence. There was, however, a shoe print or half of one.
Created in blood, it led to the room on the right.
The next room was filled with half-filled shelves of books and a mass of tables that had been pushed away from the center of the room. In the center was a carpet that had been pushed aside and a trapdoor that sat wide open.
The footprints stopped halfway there, the person making them having realized the mess they were making and choosing to smear it on the tile floor rather than continue as they were.
Shirou glanced behind him. Where had Mary gone? Going through the back shouldn't have taken too much longer than his entrance. She should have arrived already. Or, he supposed, she could have run, but why would she have followed him as far as she had if she was just going to split before anything happened?
He shook his head. It didn't matter. He had a job to do, and just standing there wasn't going to help him do it.
"Sout seledif socuap sumacov et da. Son idua ,murodnum rotidrep." The chant struck him as he moved in front of the opening.
He slowly eased himself down the stairs. The chant grew louder the deeper he went, and the reason for the man wiping the blood off his shoe as he did became clear as he reached the bottom.
Sigils reached across the floor in blood. Its source was two young pock-marked teens that hung from the ceiling on the side of the room. Below them were large buckets.
In the center of the room was a group shrouded in dark red robes, and in the center of the room in front of the giant stone hand that must have been the altar was the demon that had introduced itself as Jarred. He stood with the demonomicon in hand as the ring of people chanted.
"Sout seledif socuap sumacov et da. Son idua ,murodnum rotidrep."
A red ring the size of a fist swirled in the air above them.
His hands raised and head bowed as he chanted the words in front of the black candles.
"Erofeb em ereh rettahs eht sniahc fo Nogirt. Llac mih ot em."
He mumbled the words repeatedly as a tear began to warp the air. Then, finally, the sigil began to spread across the ground, glowing a predatory red.
"Now that's some magic." The girl whispered.
Shirou jumped and turned to find Mary kneeling there beside him, her fingers tracing over the symbol. Her eyes fluttered as she held her hand above it. Then, something in the air shifted, and she began to glow.
On the other hand, the sigil dimmed until it looked like a dying ember and the demon looked up, his four eyes narrowing.
"Who dares!?" He roared.
Shoving the girl beside him Shirou started to back up. Mary didn't follow but she did groan and loudly pulling all attention toward them.
"Stop them!"
Jarred roared his command and jabbed a red finger toward them.
The red robed priests in an almost mechanical unison turned and charged toward Shirou and Mary, many of them drawing short triangular daggers from the their rope belts.
"Mary." Shirou snapped, he didn't expect the coming battle to be overly difficult especially with help as capable as Mary had proven herself to be. She didn't respond.
He spared the still girl a glance and then Shirou moved forward to meet the angry horde of priests. He smashed his fist into the lead apostles hand, sending the dagger flying toward the ceiling and shattering the bones in the mans hand. Shirou took a step to the side and slammed his fist into the face of a priest with a curled black goatee. He fell backward into the throng attacking priests.
They shoved the man down and trampled over him to get at Shirou.
Casting a glance at his makeshift partner he found she'd hardly moved at all. In fact she only moved about a foot to the right and pressed her hand to another sigil. It was faint but Shirou was sure that he saw a thin white nimbus of energy flowing into her open hand.
Thud, Shirou jerked to the side as something impacted his ribs. He followed the sensation to its source a triangular dagger held by a hefty balding man wearing a sneer. The disdainful look on his face morphed to shock and surprise.
The dagger had barely made an indent in his shirt, very slowly a red began to spread from the point of impact.
"I thought you said you sharpened this!"
He started to pull it away but found his wrist trapped in Shirous grasp. With a jerk the wrist snapped and the man turned red but to Shirou's surprise he didn't scream. Instead, he pulled another dagger from his robe and brought it down from above.
"You bastard DIE!"
Shirou yanked on the broken wrist and sent him tumbling to the ground screaming in pain.
"Rick!" Another priest yelled.
He plucked the dagger from the hands of a thin red faced youth who thrust it toward him like a spear and cracked him in the jaw with the pommel. He fell like a puppet with its strings cut.
He swung and fingers tumbled through the air, the dagger they carried falling along with them. Turning he bashed a priest in the nose creating a very wet 'crack' and moved on to the next. He caught the daggers edge of his next attacker against his own and pivoted, as the priest stumbled forward he ran into a wall of daggers that the priests on his other side presented.
"Damn it, quite stumbling over each other and form up!" A priest snarled as he adjusted the large hat he wore. "If we attack as a group won't be able to stop us! Let's— Grk"
The man disappeared as the group charged.
He caught two blades with the purloined dagger and turned to avoid another. Rotating he tripped the nearest robed figure and slugged another in the chin. He could feel the bone break beneath his knuckles even as the man flew backward.
"You're all useless!" The demon roared as he lifted a barrel and flung it at Shirou.
Leaping into the air Shirou avoided the unusual projectile but the apostles that'd been closing in on him weren't as lucky. Dropping he gave the group a quick look, the demon had decimated nearly a dozen of his own allies.
Four remained.
Rearing back he slung his dagger forward. The weapon tumbled end over end until the hiilt impacted the figure in the head and sent him unmoving to the floor. Shirou wasn't done, pushing himself forward he lifted the nearest priest and raced toward the remaining three.
To their credit they didn't flee, however it only proved their foolishness. With his makeshift battering ram, Shirou sent them to the ground.
None remained.
Shirou looked around, searching for an attack. But he saw nothing. He looked back at Mary. Her eyes had rolled back into her head, and she rocked back and forth on her heels.
What was going on?
"Mary," he snapped. She didn't react. "Mary."
Didn't she understand that there was about to be a fight? No, not likely. She didn't seem to be aware of anything.
A waste of space.
A thief.
Shirou shook himself. He could feel it. His anger growing. He glanced back at the demon, who smirked as he folded his arms. The fool thought he had them! He should go and prove to him exactly who—
Taking a deep breath, Shirou shoved the rage down. It wasn't going to do him a bit of good. Especially if it wasn't his own.
Judging the concept of creation,
A weapon of the worthy.
Sympathizing the basic structure.
A double-edged sword of the finest iron and a handle of ivory.
Duplicating the composition material.
Iron and Ivory
Imitating the skill of its forging.
A weapon made for a King but made by common hands, but hands tired of causing needless death. It is a weapon of the righteous.
Sympathizing with the experience of its growth.
A weapon owned by Rhydderch Hael, also known as the generous. It is a weapon freely, but none have used it save for Hael himself.
Raised in the battle against Hussa.
Used to attain righteous justice against Rhun Hir for the crime of slaying Elidir Mwynfawr in an attempt to take the Kingdom.
Reproducing the accumulated years.
A weapon that's blade has only ignited for one man.
Excelling every manufacturing process.
The sword appeared in Shirou's hands, but he didn't look at it for more than a moment, just long enough to confirm it was, in fact, complete.
Taking hold of the sheath, one of the few weapons that came with one, Shirou pulled free the blade. For a moment, Shirou wondered if the blade would ignite, but then, from the hilt to the tip, flames from orange to white lit along its edge. Apparently, he had managed to fall into the category of worthy.
Whatever that meant. (can be removed if deemed too much. Or meh.)
He raised the blade into a ready position as he announced its name. "Dyrnwyn!"
The effect was immediate. The rage that was building in him began to fade. In fact, he could feel a calming wave emanating from the sword.
"Strength of Hercules!" The girl yelled.
Shirou waited for her to attack the demon, but when she didn't pass him, Shirou adjusted as he backed away to see both the girl and the demon. He moved back into the hall and glanced at the sword.
It wasn't fighting the effect on her mind.
Shirou turned and thrust Drynwyn into the space Jarred would have been having he not leaped back. The demon's fist struck the ground sending a shower of stone flying through the air.
"Why don't you put that sword down? So we can duke it out like men?"
Yeah right. There wasn't a chance the demon would stick to his word in hell. Shirou lunged and cleaved the sword down to cut the four-armed demon from his shoulder, but Jarred turned to the side.
"Cute, but you might—" he pointed off to the side where the girl had decided to change tactics.
"Speed of Mercury!"
She disappeared from sight for a moment before stopping right in front of him.
Dropping to his knees, Shirou swung around, trying to sweep her legs from beneath her, but she'd already vanished in another burst of speed.
Shirou looked over at Mary. There was obviously something going on. The girl was looking at him, and was she drooling? She was! Ew.
Then she was blitzing toward him.
A sword bloomed in the air beside him and shot forward.
It never made it to her, however. Instead, Mary held her own hand out in front of her, and the blade broke down into faintly glowing light that she pulled into herself.
His eyes narrowed. She could somehow absorb magic. It was time to change tactics.
"Don't just stand there looking like you just shot up!" The demon roared toward her. "You keep him off me long enough to summon my father, and he'll reward you with power beyond your wildest dreams!"
That got her moving. She slammed her hands into the wall, losing several large chunks. She snatched them from the air as they fell and hurled them toward Shirou.
Shirou whipped his swords through the air turning aside any rock that looked like it would hit a vital point. It was the wrong move.
"Obaleuer idnum suiuh menif. Irepa matrop."
The demon resumed his chanting.
She started for him.
Shirou dismissed the weapon he held and held his empty hands toward her.
"Mary, we don't need to do this! I don't want to hurt you."
"As if you have the power for that." She snorted.
"Stop."
She didn't stop. In fact, she blurred. Shirou blinked, and she was in front of him. Grabbing him by the head she smiled and tossed him to the side where his back impacted the wall.
Shirou pushed himself to his feet and found himself once again face to face with Mary.
"The magic is what's doing this, isn't it?"
That got a result. She backhanded Shirou sending him to the floor.
"Like that's your business or anyone else's!" She roared as she picked up a chunk of stone and swung like a Louisville slugger.
Shirou swept his hand through the air, rapidly tracing a copy of Kanshou and BakuYa into his hands, and cut the stone bat in two without issue.
"I know you're judging me!" She roared and heaved the rest of the rubble she carried at Shirou, followed by another.
Shirou rolled out of the way, ignoring the minuscule amount of shrapnel that shot free, bounced to his feet, and cut through a larger chunk of stone.
"Obaleuer idnum suiuh menif. Irepa matrop."
He spared the demon a glance. A golden white ring spun above him, the center flickering from white to red to gold and back.
"Stop judging me!" She bellowed, pulling his attention back to her. "I don't care about your opinion!"
She locked eyes with him. "Speed of Mercury!"
He crossed his swords in front of him, but they vanished in motes of light. Then, as Mary appeared before him, his hands extended.
Then, something felt like it was being dragged from his stomach, like pulling hot metal through a thin eyelet to create a wire.
"I didn't realize you were the sort to fall to power."
The drain stopped, and Mary looked stricken. She pulled her hands to her chest and backed her way to the wall behind her.
"It's complete!"
Shirou spun and found the golden ring contained a vast expanse of shadow within.
"Father, I have opened the way!" The demon shouted into the glowing ring.
Four crimson eyes opened inside the ring.
"Fool! You waste my time and energy with a mere window!" The demon bellowed. "Even the last fool who tried this was more capable!"
The demon fell to his knees. "But, father."
"Cease your whinging! You even failed to stop those that would thwart you! You're pathetic!"
The eyes turned to Shirou. "I know you carry a key. I can feel it, boy!"
'Find the door, use the key. Release me. You will be rewarded.'
Images flooded his mind.
Miyu playing with dozens of kids. Sakura standing beside him as they cooked. The Class Cards locked away.
He shook them away. They weren't real. No, he'd create the future he wanted himself. He didn't need the power the voice offered.
"No."
He shook his head and slipped into a ready stance.
"Fool!" A wave of power spilled through the window, and a creature of fire and stone tore itself from the ground.
"Die."
The creature surged forward, each of its motions scorching the ground beneath it. It crossed the distance in the span of a breath and raised its molten hands into the air to crush Shirou.
Shirou rolled to the side avoiding the incoming bludgeon, leaving them to impact the ground creating a spiderweb of cracks that criss crossed their way in dozens of directions as they spread across the floor.
With a running leap, Shirou threw himself into the air above the monster and caught the monster as it started to rise from its initial assault. His blades tore their way through the stone like face buried in the fire. Even as he landed the infernal creatures died away leaving its stone to crumble to the ground as little more than gravel.
"YOU INSIGNIFICANT WORM! YOU'LL BE NAU—"
The demon's raging rant failed as the portal he was using fizzled out, the remains nothing more than an almost invisible haze that flowed towards Mary's open hand.
"Behind you!"
Shirou whirled and cleaved the blade around himself as a red hand extended toward him. The demon screamed as the said limb fell away from his body. As did the demonnomicon he'd been holding in that arm.
"I'M GOING—" The demon started.
Shirou stepped forward, his sword raised, and Jarred turned and disappeared out the door.
But it was already too late for that. The demon had to go.
The blade lengthened and twisted until it corkscrewed like a drill bit with a white hilt. The blade finished forming, and Shirou brought it up as he started tracing his bow, only to find the demon had vanished.
Shirou's eyes narrowed as he scanned the hall, the room, the bodies of the fallen priests, the giant stone arm. But there wasn't the slightest sign of the demons presence.
"Look," Mary wrapped her arms about herself, "I- I- I have to go. Speed of Mercury."
A blast of air whipped by Shirou and she was gone.
He started to bend down to retrieve the book only to stop. The book was gone and he was certain he didn't need three guesses to figure out who'd taken it. Too bad knowing who had it didn't do him any good. Not with how fast she was.
"Damnit."
All that was left to do was report his failure.
As Shirou entered the venue half an hour later he found it to be a huge mess, chairs lay scattered, papers and bidding paddles lay scattered across the hall. The custodians were already hard at work however, and from the way that the majority of the rooms were dark and likely locked, they'd already made a significant dent in the clean up
"Your Emiya right?" One of them asked as he popped his trucker hat off his head just long enough to use the bill to scratch at the top of his balding head.
Shirou nodded, "I am."
"Boss wants to see you in his office." He pointed toward the a room on the far side of the hall, the only one of the adjoining rooms that was still lit.
"Thanks."
Making his way to the room Shirou pulled the door open and found Dr. Connor looking at him with a raised eyebrow, he sat in his chair tapping away at his keyboard, his mustache quivering in hardly contained mirth. He looked up as Shirou entered the room.
He sighed. "I guess the fact that you came back in one piece is something worth celebrating," he muttered.
"Let me guess," his whole body slumped slightly as he ran a hand through his hair. "Someone from the Justice League swooped in and took the book, or it got damaged beyond repair while you were retrieving it."
Shirou started to shake his head, "N—"
He raised a hand, "don't worry about it, I've already called the insurance company and between the police report and the news coverage, they've already issued the check." He shrugged before his lips quirked up into a small smile.
There it was, his way to keep from turning the demonomicon back over.
He must have taken Shirou's silence as confirmation as his smile turned positively savage. He looked as if someone stapled a few mops to the face of the stay puff marshmallow man and popped a pair of oversized teeth into his mouth.
"Super villain coverage, no one should pick up insurance without it." As he finished speaking he belted out a laugh.
Woodenly Shirou nodded and released a shallow breath. It made sense, of course. From what he'd managed to understand from the limited access he allowed himself, super villains caused a decent amount of property damage on a daily basis, not that a lot of heroes weren't better at it.
He turned back to his computer, "even better with the reputation you've managed garner and the footage from our camera's during your fight even if an investigation was launched they'd shut it down almost immediately!"
He slammed his hand into the table.
Shirou was flabbergasted, what was he supposed to say to that? What could he say to that? He didn't have the book, a villain did and didn't he say it was a super villain policy?
He must have seen the conflict on Shirou's face as he raised his hands placatingly. "You did a fantastic job, I couldn't have asked for better."
"You did tell me to get it back or it would be my head."
He shrugged.
"We were being recorded after all. Now why don't you head home for the night, Mr. Mr. Pregar will give you your new assignment tomorrow."
After another moment of indecision Shirou nodded and made his way out of the room. "Have a pleasant night." He called over his shoulder.
He didn't receive a response and didn't really expect one either.
The custodians had finished their cleanup leaving Shirou to walk through a room with little to no lights, but considering how empty the room was it wasn't much of an issue. Though maybe if Gordon fired him they had a spot or two available?
Making his way out the front door, he started down the street he found his path blocked.
"Sorry," she said, her arm blurred and Shirou raised his own reflexively, just in time to catch the oddly bound tome in his hand.
He only needed a cursory glance to make sure it was in fact the demonomicon rather than a fake she'd provided. Shirou looked up a moment later and she was gone.
Shirou sighed, "what am I supposed to do with you?"
Returning it to Dr. Connor would likely only annoy the man. He didn't want it back.
Yawning he blinked hard and shook his head before slipping the book under his arm. "Tomorrow, I'll figure it out tomorrow."
The next morning he woke to Miyu shaking him and calling. "Shirou it's time to go, I'm go, we're going to be late!"
Shirou blearily opened his eyes and found himself eye to eye with his sister. He jerked back.
"Miyu what was that for?"
She frowned. "It's my first day at school and we're going to be late!"
The exhaustion faded in an instant and Shirou forced himself to his feet. A glance at the clock told him he didn't have time to put together a breakfast for her. Dammit. Well they were just going to have to pick something up— Miyu shoved a muffin into his hand, and from the smell of them they were cranberry.
"I ordered muffins."
Slipping her shoes on she tapped them against the floor before opening the door.
"Why aren't you getting your shoe on?"
Shoe? As in singular? Huh, he did feel a bit off balance and a look toward his feet did show that he was in fact missing his left shoe. Snagging the offending article he ushered her out of the room and hopped to follow as he put on his shoe.
They entered the elevator and pressed the L button.
"You got back really late."
Shirou nodded, "it ended up being more complicated than expected. The book I was protecting got stolen."
She looked at him, surprise written all over her face. "Did you get it back?"
After a moment he nodded. "Yeah, but the owner already reported it to his insurance as a loss. I'll have to figure out what to do with it later."
Miyu hmmed as the elevator dinged and the door slid open. "Have you noticed we never seem to see any other guests here?" She asked, gesturing to the lobby whose only occupant was a young woman standing behind the counter.
Shirou nodded. "I have, of course that might be because they want privacy."
"Mr. Emiya, Miss Miyu, good morning." The woman greeted, "I hope your first day at school goes well."
Miyu beamed. "Thank you Claire!"
Taking hold of Shirou's hand she guided him out of the building.
"Young miss, would you like me to bring the car around?" Mr. Cane asked as they stepped outside.
Shirou answered before she could. "Yes please Mr. Cane."
The man nodded and pressed a button on his radio. It must have been a preplanned move as naught even fifteen seconds later the black town car turned the corner and stopped right in front of them.
"Your chariot Miss Miyu and best wishes on your first day of school."
Mr. Cane stepped forward and pulled the door open, gave a half bow and gestured to the interior of the vehicle.
"Thank you Mr. Cane!" She chirped, she all but launched herself into the car.
Shirou on the other hand was far calmer as he approached the car. He inclined his head toward Mr. Cane. "Thank you."
"It's my pleasure Mr. Emiya, now why don't you slide it, by the looks of it we're a bit behind schedule."
Shirou winced and slid into the car. The faux leather seats were far plusher than they appeared and there was far more room than Shirou had first thought. Miyu sat beside him all but bouncing up and down in her seat.
"And we're off!" Mr Cane said as he settled himself in the driver's seat.
Shirou hid a smile and began a silent count down until Miyu chimed in with a cheer. Only, it didn't come. The girl who looked so full of excitement and energy just minutes before was still as a statue.
"Miyu?" Shirou prodded gently.
Almost mechanically she turned to look at him, though it didn't look like she was actually looking at him. It looked like the all the anxiety she'd been ignoring, that she'd been hiding, had finally made it to the surface now that she was left with no choice but to confront her fear.
"What- What-" Tears started spilling down her face and she latched on to Shirou. "What if they don't like me?" She blubbered into his shirt.
Shirou wrapped an arm around her. "They'll like you, how could they not? Your smart, sweet, and plain adorable. You'll make plenty of friends."
She continued to cry though the volume of it began to fade and soon enough she was just sniffling. Finally, she looked up at him.
"You mean it?"
"Of course."
Shirou nodded, and taking the hem of his shirt he dabbed her tears from her face. He was about to do the same with the snot bubbling out her nose but the box of kleenex Mr. Cane extended toward him made it moot.
"Shirou?"
"Hmm?"
"How do I make friends?"
Shirou stilled. Was there a good answer to that? 'Be yourself' was cliche and it hadn't really done much for him except getting people to ask him for favors. He didn't mind because he wanted to be useful, but he wanted something better for Miyu. At the same time if she wasn't herself than none of the friends she made would really know her. So maybe the straight foward option…. Did that sound less desperate when children did it? What was the right answer?! As he searched for an answer, any answer really, he caught Mr. Cane's eyes in the rear view mirror,
"Being yourself is a great start." Mr. Cane offered. "You can also just see about joining a game during recess."
Miyu slowly nodded, though she didn't seem convinced. A fact made all the worse by the fact that the school's sign was clear for the two of them to see. They'd run out of time.
"Just talk to them." Shirou said and ruffled her hair.
He pushed the door open and stepped aside to let Miyu step out of the car. Something about it caught a number of students' attention as they stopped what they were doing to watch. A fact that Shirou was okay with as it drew the attention of (principal lady) Shirou extended a hand and helped his sister out of the car.
"You'll make friends in no time, I promise."
She gave him an unsure smile.
"Mr. Emiya, Ms. Miyu, goodmorning." (Principal lady) said in a way of greeting as she walked up to them. She extended a hand toward Miyu. "If you'll come with me we'll get to your classroom."
Shirou's stomach twisted at the terrified look she gave him, and forced a smile and nodded as she took the principal's hand.
"I'll be back to get you at the end of the day." He waved as she began to walk away. She stopped only once to wave back at him.
"Mr. Emiya would you care to return to the hotel?" Mr. Cane asked.
Shirou shook his head, "I appreciate the offer but theres a few things I have to do in town. I'll make my own way back."
Mr. Cane frowned, "Is there anywhere I can drop you?"
Again he shook his head. Keeping an eye on Miyu would be fare easier if he were the only one who had any idea what he was doing. That he could call Gordon and perhaps explain the demonomicon thing at the same time would just be a bonus.
"Than have a pleasant day Mr. Emiya." He dropped back into the car and a moment later he was driving away.
Shirou turned on his heel and beat a hasty retreat from the school.
He stood in an alley, leaning against a dumpster staring at the outdoor dining area. Or more specifically the single person occupying the furthest table in the area.
She'd do, oh yes. Curves in all the right places and is blonde. If theirs couldn't be like hers, it had to be blonde. It had to. His heart thundered in his chest as he watched her move.
He had to have her.
He stepped closer, a wide teeth-baring grin on his face when he found his path blocked by two stocky guys.
"Dude, What's with that creepy look? It's just scary." The first said as he looked down at him.
"You need to just leave." The other chimed in. "Maybe even shower. You smell like the hobo near the bus station."
He smiled even wider as he caught their eyes. He felt something shift like it always did, and his eyes felt like they were heating up.
"Fella's, I'm kind of busy."
"Right, sorry for bugging ya, bro." The first one said as he scratched at the back of his head, and the second one moved away. And just like that, there she was.
As he approached, he ran a hand through his hair and extended his hand. "Shinji Matou."
She took him by the hand, and as she looked him in the eyes, Shinji could almost feel the disgust she had. "Jenny. Look, I'm sure you're ni—"
Shinji focused, and as he felt his eyes begin to heat, she blinked hard. "What was I saying?"
He smiled easily and brushed some hair from her face.
"That we should get out of here." Shinji supplied as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He buried his face into her neck and took a large breath. He shivered as she placed a hand on his head and clenched his hair.
"Right."
She didn't seem totally sure at first but after a moment she nodded.
"Right." She repeated.
They took a few steps, and she blinked and shook her head.
"Wait, why?"
Shinji caught her eye and his eyes heated up again. As she swayed, he dragged his tongue along her jaw and, taking her by the hand, pulled her into the alley.
In the distance, he could hear police sirens and a large rumbling, almost like there was an entire hoard of motorcyclists powering their way down the street toward him. He was going to let the police take care of it. No one was screaming, after all, that is, until he spotted the lead motorcycle, its wheels alight in blazing red flames. Then, on instinct, he activated structural analysis.
Its rider was the manufacturer, the demon to be, Johnny Rancid.
The bike itself was a weapon. An edgeless cleaver, a refined club. A high-speed battering ram.
Crafted through mundane means, the finest rubbers and plastics, and refined steel.
Imbued, like its rider with demonic powers by a demoness in return for a soul. It had taken over two dozen lives throughout its nine incarnations.
It was an odd weapon that, even as a copy of it started to form within his soul, shattered like a window crushed by a sledgehammer.
He blinked rapidly, shaking off the confusion as three other motorcycles rumbled into view. Grey-skinned and looking more than a little heavy metal wearing spiked collars and what looked like black eye makeup. Like the motorcycle ridden by Johnny Rancid, they had been imbued with demonic energy. Like with Johnny, it only cost a soul. But, unlike Johnny's ride, theirs had taken no lives.
He shoved his way through the crowd forming on the sidewalk, no doubt to gawk at the coming scene. Making his way into the nearest alley he quickly located the fire escape. With a small jump he reached the ladder and pulled himself up. Faster and faster he raced from landing to landing.
Then he was on the roof.
Spreading his magical energy throughout his muscles, lungs, and eyes, Shirou took a deep breath, took a few steps back, and in the next moment, he was sprinting across the roof of the building and leaped as he reached the edge. He didn't slow. He jumped from building to building, tracing the bikers' path.
At he hit the ground he slipped into a roll as the rumbling motor cycles drew closer.
Popping to his feet Shirou didn't break his stride and a moment later he was running astride the lead motorcycle.
"Hey, maggot, I've been looking for you!"
Shirou looked over and found himself face to face with the demon from the other night. Johnny, or at least that's what he was fairly sure the boss demoness had called him.
"What?"
He took Shirou by the front of the shirt and dragged him into the air. "Where is it!" He roared.
"Where is what? And you mind setting me down?"
He didn't. Instead, he shook Shirou back and forth. "I know you've been spending time with the thief!"
Taking the demon's wrist, Shirou sighed. "I met her the same night I met you. She's not exactly what I would call a friend."
He sneered. "I don't give two shits if you're what she pulled out of her sink drain! You're going to tell me where I can find her or I'm going to help you get a better understanding of what it means to be road-kill!"
The sheer hatred in the demon nearly had Shirou double take. Looked like someone had managed to rid him of his crush. Bringing his arms up Shirou broke the demon's grip.
"Well I don't know where she is."
The biker sneered, "wrong answer maggot."
A chain snaked up and lashed around Shirou's wrist jerking him backward. He tumbled back through the air but caught himself on a newbox on the sidewalk. Taking hold of the chain Shirou pulled.
Bike and biker alike jerked into the air and Shirou found the chain had gone slack. Bracing himself he gave the chain another jerk just before the demon could strike the ground, ripping the rider from his motorized mount. He screamed as the asphalt tore through his leathers and into his skin. By the time he came to a stop he wasn't making any noises.
As Shirou unraveled himself from the chain he found the bikers had lined up down the road. Their engines roared and they were racing toward him.
"Work." Shirou hissed as a he brought up the blueprint of Kanshou and Bakuya. The blue lights stretched through the air in front of him, inching along at a veritable snails pace.
Work. Please, work.
Ten yards separated them, Shirou ducked beneath a ball of black fire. The outline of the noble phantasms finished and began to glow brighter.
Please work.
Five yards. Steel coated the blades and Shirou wrapped his fingers around them and prepared himself to meet them.
Please.
Cracks rippled through the blade and Shirou threw his arms up as the blades detonated.
Shirou grunted as the air leaped from his lungs and he was launched backward. He grunted again as he landed and from the way it was he was willing to bet, he'd just made a car act like a catcher's mitt.
"So much for that."
Rolling off the car he waited for the swirling dust to settle so he could see. However, he heard them before he saw them. Or at least he heard their motorcycles roar to life before he saw them.
A series of black fireballs punched through the dust but they all flew wide and impacted against the stone hardly leaving a scorch mark for the trouble.
Starting forward he evened out his breathing and doubled his pace. Than doubled it again. In moments he was in the heart of the dust cloud but from the sound of the motorcycles he wasn't any closer.
His eyes narrowed. They were running.
Launching himself forward he raced from the cloud of smoke and found himself looking at the demons retreating forms
There's something wrong, they wouldn't run. Or Johnny wouldn't, the anger fueled man didn't have enough sense for that. Which meant, he had something planned. But what?
Increasing his pace again he rounded the corner just moments after the cyclists. He ripped a lid from a trash can and after a quick round of reinforcement sent it chasing after them.
Moment after moment it inched closer until Johnny jerked his motorcycle off the road and dropped toward the water below. His goons were quick to follow.
But why would they drive themselves into the water? How was that going to help them. He cast his attention around looking for some kind of foot holds for the demons and came up dry. There was nothing.
As he reached the edge and found them driving over the water as if it was solid it all made sense.
It wasn't too much of a surprise. As good as he was, he couldn't run on water, unlike the bikes, which apparently could. So instead, Shirou was forced to race over to the bridge, his mind already awhirl. Like cycling through images on a computer screen, his options filled his mind, and he began.
"Trace, on."
Judging the concept of creation,
Forged by a blacksmith in service of a merchant who held favor with Liu Bei's cause. A weapon meant to aid in the battle against Cao Cao. A tool of violence intended to aid in the path to freedom.
Sympathizing the basic structure.
A guandao of great weight, so much so that few could effectively wield it even with two ready hands.
Duplicating the composition material.
Comprised of early steel.
Imitating the skill of its forging
A long polearm began to form at Shirou's side, its blade massive, nearly the length of his leg. It was simple, unornamented, save for the frosted red that held fast against the blade.
Sympathizing with the experience of its growth.
A blade wielded by two sides of the same war. From Guan Yi until his death at enemy hands and gifted to the one playing a pivotal role in his capture. Only to be taken back by Guan Yi's son Guan Xing.
During its many battles in the snow, the blood on the blade began to freeze until a layer of bloody frost was across its blade.
It took the name the Frost Fair Blade, a bloody weapon that found a place in the heart of winter.
Reproducing the accumulated years.
Excelling every manufacturing process.
The fully formed guandao released the biting chill of the deathly season. When Shirou spun it through his fingers, it began to whistle. But he wasn't done. More of his magical energy filled the weapon. The crimson sheen on the blade rippled and surged, creating dozens of bloody icicles, and its shaft began to crack. Snow began to flurry through the air about him, but Shirou paid it no mind.
Rearing back, Shirou launched it not towards his enemies but in their direction. Where once the weapon could have been considered an anti-personnel weapon that would emanate a freezing air that would add blood to the blade to increase its size and strength, now it was something else entirely. When it plunged into the water, it shattered. Bloody pink-red ice shot from the waters as large as spears and just as sharp. Before any of the ice could get near the bikers, it happened. The water's surface froze over.
Blueprints unfurled within his mind, and the ethereal outlines of the twin married blade filled his waiting hands. One dark as night, the other bright as a mirror, they'd hardly finished forming when he cast them away, far out to the side, and another set built within his hands. These, too, he threw away, and as the third set settled into his hands, he stepped from the bridge.
The first set of blades he'd thrown, like a pair of super-powered magnets, closed in on one another, flanking the group. They split, allowing the blades to strike together and ricochet off, only to be drawn to the second set he'd thrown. A set that was already curving to carve its way through the group.
As Shirou dropped through the air, his eyes widened as Johnny pulled his motorcycle into a wheelie and began barreling toward him through the sky.
"Just the one we've been looking for!" He roared, though the rampant grin told Shirou how happy he was with the situation. "I'm gonna beat you bloody and drag you back to the lady! She'll get the info out of you herself!"
Shirou knew there was a way for him to dodge mid-air, but it wasn't an option, he'd used quite a bit of his magical energy on his tracing, and while he was being refilled, it wasn't as fast as he'd like. He couldn't afford to use the magical energy on something that would continually drain his reserves after its original tracing cost to work.
Instead, he threw Kanshou towards the biker, who swerved to avoid the incoming black buzzsaw.
As Johnny flew past Shirou, he brought up Bakuya and peered at its side, its reflective surface allowing him to see what he already knew was on its way. Rancid turned about and sped toward him again, looking to bury his front wheel into Shirou's back.
He waited, teeth clenched as the demonic cycle descended. When it was close enough, Shirou angled himself to begin to turn as he swung Bakuya with all the force he could muster. Blade met a flaming arcane tire and knocked the two apart. Shirou reinforced himself as best he could before he plowed into the ice sending up a layer of icy dust. Still, his attention never left the bike and its rider, which wasn't in any better condition. In fact, it was worse. The front tire was a severed flaming wreck, and Johnny wobbled on his feet, his face a mass of blood and his chest partially caved in...
"I'll give you one thing! You've already proven yourself more a man than those so-called Titans!" Johnny growled as he picked up his bike, a new tire seeming to melt from the bike into place. "But now you're surrounded!"
A quick look around confirmed Johnny's words. He was surrounded by four revving bikes. His Kanshou and Bakuya were no longer spinning through the air. Some were buried in the ice up to their hilts, a few in the bridge's metal. His opponents didn't look any worse for wear, either. Though the one female of the group had a gash across her arm, she didn't seem to mind.
Shirou would have likely commented that their number is far too low if speaking in battle weren't the epitome of stupidity. But it was, and so he didn't.
"That was a killer trick with the ice." One of the bikers, the smallest one. The kid hardly seemed demonic.
Shirou settled into a defensive position and waited, his gaze locked onto Johnny. In a moment that seemed to span minutes, his calculations had already begun, none of his opponents were more than five meters away, and from what Shirou had seen, they'd be able to close the distance in three seconds. However, they wouldn't be at top speed. He could trace another handful of weapons in that time. There would be no time for them to dodge.
Sure, their abilities were at least somewhat unknown. Still, they had managed to avoid Kanshou and Bakuya. Rancid had durability that was well above normal humans, even if he weren't quite at the rank of a heroic spirit. At best, they were riders, their speed dependent on their mounts. No, he told himself, the blades would hit.
"Get him!" Yelled the leader of the demonic bikers, and the throttles opened wide.
Four meters and three seconds until they reached him.
The sword Shirou chose was a broadsword, plain grey iron used in the dark ages by an errant knight. Each of the four's tips appeared, angled to skewer a biker coming at him.
Three meters and one second remained.
As if shot from a canon, the swords sped forward. He watched as the bikers reacted far faster than he thought they could. Or at least two of them.
Rancid did something to his bike, and suddenly, it was between the blade and his stomach. The goth boy raised a hand and loosed a veritable torrent of black and red flames, flames that guttered out as his bike impaled by the sword blew apart. The female started to glow red and was skewered a moment later. She screamed as she tumbled from her bike. The last man and the one closest to him, who looked, if possible more like a demon than even Rancid, with dull blue skin, red eyes, and the curling horns of a ram, the blade impaled the man through his chest. Bike and rider skidded across the ground, leaving a large green smear behind them.
Shirou threw himself to the side to avoid Johnny's still-coming bike, which left a deep tire print in the melting ice where Shirou had once stood.
As his enemy comes around to stop beside the ram-horned man, he spits off to the side. "Wimps." He pulled the sword from his fellow biker's chest, a thin sheen of green blood coming with it. "Get up." He added and kicked the downed pseudo demon.
Shirou wasn't paying attention to that, not when the sword Johnny held began to change. Crimson veins slid across the weapon, and its edge became more hooked and grew serrated. Seeing that, Shirou changed his plans, and the time of waiting had passed.
He surged forward, a white cloud of ice behind him, and once more, the roar of Johnny's engine was all Shirou could hear.
Shirou swung Kanshou and Johnny brought his hijacked blade around, but before it could reach Shirou, it vanished. Shirou didn't slow. His blade whipped through the air so quickly that most would not have been able to see the swing, and then Johnny was behind him, his arm rolling across the ice several meters away from the rest of him. Rancid screamed. Green blood leaked from his stump onto the ice, though far less than there should have been.
A pun was on Shirou's lips, and he pressed them tighter together, even if the fact that he'd disarmed Rancid in more ways than one was slightly amusing. Instead, he took stock of the situation; Rancid was missing an arm. Barring some form of a miracle, he wouldn't be riding again. Two others were impaled through the torso and stomach, respectively, and beyond breathing they weren't moving. The only one left awake was, in fact, the goth boy who stared at him with a mix of hatred and fear.
Flicking Kanshou to remove as much of the blood as he could, Shirou walked over to the goth boy when the crimson fire began to dance across his body. It smelled of sweet, freshly made bread and plum blossoms. It smelled of home, and yet it was foul, wrong, disgusting, rancid.
A whirl of black flames whipped up from the ice, sweeping higher and higher until they stood taller than Shirou and from them stepped the red skinned demoness. She did not look amused. Adjusting her suit she turned to the downed demons.
The boys flames petered out.
"I believe I informed you that you needn't concern yourself with a few lost trinkets. That your soul focus should be practicing your songs."
She cocked her head to the side. "I believe that is what I told you isn't it?"
He gave the barest of nods.
"Yes ma'am."
"Don't call me ma'am." She snapped.
"Sorry." He muttered.
Shirou didn't lower his guard. She might have stopped his attack but it was interesting that she didn't pop up until the end. Either she planned it or nw of it before it happened. She seemed far too pragmatic not to have.
She whirled on Shirou. "And you." She paused and took a breath. "The next time you see your friend, I suggest you inform her that she, like you is no longer welcome in my establishment."
The same black whirl of fire that brought her swept up around her feet and along the forms of the downed demons swallowing them all. When it died away the only prrof that they were ever there was the streaks of their blood on the ice.
They were gone.
After waiting for a minute to see if they were possibly trying to get him to leave himself open, Shirou slowly made his way from the icefloe he'd created.
No attack came.
He glared. He glared at the building, its stupid stained glass windows, and the stone lions in the front. He glared at the doormen, who acted more like guards and wouldn't even let him into the lobby. Not even going around back to the kitchen and employee entrances and found them guarded as well.
He hated them. The building, the glass, the statue, the guard, even the redhead who walked in a few minutes ago. Even the kinder doorman left and came back with a car. He hated them all.
It was inside too. He could hear it, feel its song resonating with his heartbeat. It filled him with a whirl of want and desire. As another wave filled him, he wiped the thin trail of drool from his mouth.
"I know," he groaned as he looked at the building. "I know, please." He whined, "please come to me."
It was a futile request and one he'd been making since he closed in on the building earlier in the day. But he swore he could feel it getting closer.
After a moment, he knew it truly was on the move.
Another wave struck him with far more force than he'd received yet. And at that same moment, the door swung open. The guard who'd kindly shooed him off led the way. Then there was the redhead, and the pulse came again.
One of them had it. He needed it. "Hey!" He yelled, but he didn't think they heard him. Not a surprise since he was so far away.
"Hey!" He called again. "Don't leave! You have it! PLEASE."
Getting up, he started forward and tripped. When he looked up, the two were nowhere in sight, and the car had pulled away.
NONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO! Scrambling to his feet, he raced to follow. To catch them.
The pulse came again as they turned, and then they were gone.
But he wasn't going to give up. He couldn't. Wouldn't.
Screaming, he started forward, not noticing the glass from the buildings around him crashing to the ground.
He knew one thing for certain, one of them had it.
"Soon." He hissed.
"You oaf! You ruined my plan!"
Reaching down Jarred lifted a smaller demon into the air and held him inches from his face.
"Don't call me an oaf, shitstain! There was no way I could know that the spell wouldn't work!"
While it might have intimidated some, the smaller demon didn't seem bothered in the slightest. In fact he almost looked eager.
"Enough the both of you! We don't have the time to play games! Time is of the essence."
"Coming from the guy who just finished a six hour and four woman marathon? I don't need to hear about wasting time from someone like you!"
He smacked the larger demons wrists, said demon dropped him with a hiss of pain. A moment later he was on the floor again and speed walking toward a work bench. One hand drummed across the wood while th eother spun a penicl about in his hands.
"Without the demonnomicon our methods our methods are virtually nonexistant."
"We could always just get her and force her to do it." Jarred suggested.
A pillow, pulled formt he couch struck him in the face sending him stumbling back a step. "How many times do we have to tell you? Getting to her is not worth the trouble."
"But all this waiting is driving me bonkers!"
"You say that after having been out and trying to open the portal for the last six hours. I've been stuck here this whole time! It's my turn."
"Your turn? I hardly consider being able to find some ladies to play doctor with, being stuck here."
"You'd think you'd know by now, sating ourselves can hardly be considered going out."
A grin spread across Jareds face. "Great! That's all I was doing then and that's all I have planned for now."
"Enough! Neither of you will be going this time. I'll be taking care of that myself."
"And why do you get to go out you little gremlin!" Jarred thundered.
"Gremlin! Who are you calling a gremlin!" He roared and taking a step forward spread his hands out as if her wwere brandishing a set of claws.
"You, you pocket hobbit wannabe!" Jarred roared.
"You muscle bound fuck! I'm going to gut you!"
"Enough!" The third intjected before they could come to blows. "You want to go, fine you go and get your kicks."
"What the hell Jesse!" Jarred raged as he turned. "Why the hell would—"
Jesse took Jarred by the arm and pulled him closer and hissed.
"Let him try. He'll just fail like a bitch and than we can get him back to his strategies and we'll go for her book."
"You're both idiots. I can hear you. You know what, never mind." Pulling a file from the table he shoves it toward the other two. "Just bring him to me."
Jesse raised an eyebrow, "What do you want with this greasy, revolting, ball of shame and sour pus?"
A chesire grin spread across the shortests face and an eagerness filled his eyes. "That's for me to know isn't it?"
They stood as a wall in front of the school, a human barrier. A group Shirou aimed to join. The parents or nannies picking the kids from school.
Shirou pulled out his phone and glanced at the time.
2:59
Only a minute remained.
"Well you're a new face. Hi there. Todd Grand."
A thin man wearing a long sleeve button up said as he extended a hand.
"Just moved here. Shirou Emiya."
"Well Shirou, what brings you here today? You don't look nearly old enough to have a rugrat this age."
Shirou stopped and looked at the man again. He was the first person to ask Shirou if he was supposed to be there. Not exactly the best result, but better one than none.
"I'm picking up my sister. It's her first day."
He nodded, "I guess your parents are working?"
Shirou shook his head, "our father passed a while back. I've been looking out for Miyu since."
The man suddenly looked like someone shoved a lemon into his mouth. He looked to any of the other parents, searching for some kind of rescue, however, despite being obvious in how they were listening in, none moved to help him.
He swallowed, "I'm sorry to hear that and for bringing up sore subject."
Shirou shook his head. "Don't be sorry. I'd be questioning you if you suddenly showed up at my sister's school."
All of the sudden he looked relieved. "Hey thanks.
RIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGgggg.
Almost as one the classroom doors swung open and children were lead by their teachers out.
"Shirou! Shirou!" Miyu yelled as she pushed her way through the crowd of students her hand latched on to a blonde girl that reminded Shirou of a chipmunk. She beamed up at him as she managed to break through the edge of the wall to get to him.
"This is, , she asked if I wanted to come to her birthday party! Can I go? Please?"
Shirou paused, of course she was going to get invitations to playdates and the like! How had he not thought of that before?
"Hows about we go talk to their parents and see what they've got planned and when."
"But-" She looked devastated.
"I can't say yes unless I talk to them."
"Okay." She sighed.
"Dad's right there!" Miyu's friend said point toward a pudgy man with salt and pepper hair and a pair of glasses.
"Dad!" She yelled waving her free hand in the air.
He must have heard her voice as he locked on to her a moment later and was making their way toward him. He was a balding man who wore a smile.
"Brad."
Shirou took his hand and gave it a firm shake. "Shirou Emiya, and this here is Miyu."
He dropped a hand onto Miyu's head.
"Dad, can Miyu come to my party this weekend?"
The mans smile grew wider. "Of ccourse, the more the merrier!" He said with a laugh. "You can help me say sanne as the girls have a bit of fun, can't you, Shirou?"
Shirou started to nod and then stopped, he couldn't just say yes, not when he hadn't quite figured out if his schedule was going to be the same. "Depends on the day."
"This saturday at Pizza Planet. Starts at noon." The man announced. "Hope you can make it. They say the miniature golf course it out of this world."
Shirou snorted and nodded. "I'll see what I can do."
"Great! See you there!"
Chapter end.
I hope you've enjoyed the chapter, if you'd like to read more I've got up to chapter 9 up on my site. Everfiction . com
