EDIT: I'll throw out all my garbage in the morning. Tonight I have to edit more chapters.
Immediately I want to clarify something that seemed to stick with a very specific, very dedicated guest viewer. You can read the full extent yourself if you do some looking, but they basically said that Shirou would never betray or sacrifice someone close to them and were generally upset by the question asked last chapter. I agree with the reviewer entirely. Shirou would never choose to sacrifice someone. Even if it was the only way to "save the world" he wouldn't do it. As stubborn and righteous as Shirou is, he would try his best to save everyone even if it eventually ended with more suffering.
Since I can't speak directly to the guest, I'll speak here! What it seems they and most of you have deduced, is that Shirou will be the one doing the sacrificing of one of his friends... But who said he would be doing the betraying? They are Shirou's friends sure, and Shirou is usually the one who has to make the tough decisions... But the Magus Killer is still alive. The ruthless, efficiency-forward Magus Killer that cares little for those around him so long as a greater number of lives are saved in the end. Remember that he still breathes and that he can still fight.
I'd like to shout out SentinalSlice for being the only reviewer who thanked my beta after I asked. If you're reading this, I'm proud of you little buddy!
Also, this next chapter might come quite a bit later than usual. Reading week is coming up and I'll be taking a little extra time to relax so I don't burn myself out of writing. (I can also catch up on a lot of my youtubers that I've been neglecting)
I have the feeling that after reading this chapter, a considerable amount of people are going to flood the reviews with hypotheses. Some of them are going to be true, some aren't. I guess you'll just have to wonder how cruel I am. :}
Everyone sitting at the dining table was furious. Shirou was mad at his father for playing such a dirty trick, Rin was upset with herself for not seeing through the lie and being unable to truly injure the intruder while Illya was fuming over the fact that Shirou had almost been killed. She didn't get any happier after Kiritsugu told her that Bazett was supposed to focus on Shirou as he was the only one who could handle such a beating.
The absence of Sakura through the night had been for good reason as well - she had been in on it the entire time! Kiritsugu had let the girl know in advance which was why she had taken the other western-style room farthest from Shirou without argument. Usually, she would have fought tooth and nail to be closer to him, how hadn't he noticed that?
While everyone stewed in the juices of their own anger, Sakura made a fragrant black tea to try calming everyone down. The strange woman, who had rather frankly kicked all their asses, stood with her back against the door frame. Shirou realized that she hadn't said a word since her arrival. Even when Illya had reluctantly healed what minor wounds she had, she hadn't even thanked the homunculus. Shirou was a lot worse for wear. With all the adrenaline and protectionist instincts out of his mind, he was in incredible pain. His legs, arms and mostly his chest pounded with an intense aching pain that made breathing difficult. Illya's magecraft healed the area but it did absolutely nothing to remove the pain of the actual injury. Avalon was dulling the pain some but it would take some time to fully repair everything.
The old man was out of the room washing all the blood off himself. He had known Shirou would trace him, so he couldn't use fake blood or a substitute otherwise he'd be found out. The old man had just cut open his chest to bleed down his front, then somehow stopped his internal organs-
Shirou's train of thought halted immediately. The Emiya family crest allowed the use of time acceleration within the space of a bounded field. His father frequently used such a feat to move at double speed to increase his combat potential to unprecedented levels, but why should its abilities end at accelerating time? Why couldn't he do the exact opposite and slow time? Because all the contents of the field were affected by the time alteration, his organs could be slowed to a rate in which he appeared lifeless.
That had to be it. Such a dirty, nasty trick only he could pull off effectively.
The door slid open and the trickster in question stepped in wearing a fluffy white bathrobe. His face held a warm smile even though everyone inside the dining room was staring at him with intense hatred. "It was a dirty trick and you're upset, I can understand that," he spoke, sliding the door closed behind him. "However, it was for good reason. I've been wanting to simulate a real enemy encounter for some time now. Unfortunately, it happened so late because our schedules have never lined up." He motioned offhandedly to the businesswoman just to his side.
There was a dead, spiteful silence in the room broken only by the slight clatter of china as Sakura placed cups of tea in front of her friends.
The old man sighed in defeat. "Your potential couldn't be realized without a genuine threat." He gestured to his son. "Because you were worried that Rin might die, you learned a new way to use your projections." Without waiting for a response, he turned to Illya and Rin. The Tohsaka mage had overexerted herself charging those gem-swords to their absolute limit. She was drained and on the verge of total system shutdown. That last Gandr shot probably hadn't helped either. "The three of you also experienced just how effective you are when you combine your strengths. You were able to repel and even wound one of the Mage's Associations most formidable Enforcers."
Aside, Illya whispered to Rin. "Your body isn't recovering, you pushed yourself too hard." The albino gently pulled some hair away from her face, leaning close to hear the barely audible words the magus was speaking.
The suit-clad woman closed her eyes slowly. "They performed adequately. They're still young so they have potential." She spoke in English with a softened Irish accent. Thankfully it didn't affect the clarity of her speech. Shirou surprisingly understood her now, converting English to Japanese in his head. At least learning English in school was paying off.
"Adequately?" Shirou asked, blinking several times. "You almost ruptured my heart and I managed to hold you off while half naked!" he shouted, wincing as the exertion sent a shooting pain through his chest. His breath hitched in his throat and sudden nausea washed over him. His organs were not handling their reconstruction very well.
"Then you copied my attire and technique and were still unable to defeat me. If you had truly understood my martial arts style, you should have been able to counter every strike I threw at you," the woman casually responded, not even bothering to open her eyes.
Kiritsugu slowly knelt down at the table. "I understand none of you are going to like this, but you will all be training with Bazett while she is here."
"She's st-staying here?" Shirou asked, stuttering as a stabbing pain shot through him again.
Kiritsugu nodded. "For a few months or until a job takes her away. I've offered to pay her a salary seeing as how she is unable to find decent work." Just how deep did his father's pockets go? He was bound to be running a little short with all the expenses, and it wasn't like he was bringing in an income through work either.
Rin slumped against Illya. Even though it seemed to be intentional, it didn't detract from the fact that she was hurting quite badly. The Tohsaka whispered something against the albino's ear. "How do you know Kiritsugu? Being an Enforcer means you hunt Sealing Designates?" Illya asked. Judging by the questioning tone of her voice, she was speaking on behalf of the disabled Tohsaka.
Bazett opened her eyes before pushing her back off the wall. "My mother spoke highly of him. When I was younger she went off on an important task." The woman accented the last words with quotations signs using her fingers. "I found out later before she died that she had gone off to train your old man for the Grail War. She had known of you before then of course. You get to learn the names of people who keep stealing your contracts out from underneath you." Her eyes grew a shade colder before returning to their impressive state.
The old man nodded solemnly, thanking Sakura as she placed a full cup in front of him. It was almost like he had ignored the last comment entirely. "Your mother was a good woman, it's unfortunate she had to die so young." Kiritsugu took a sip of his steaming hot tea. How he managed to avoid burning his tongue, Shirou would never know.
"Daddy, Rin isn't getting any better," Illya commented, holding the larger woman's head against her shoulder comfortingly. The Tohsaka seemed pale and she was barely breathing.
"She might have overdone things. Shirou, please take Rin to her bedroom. Illya, go along with them so you can monitor her condition, please. Then you can all get some rest and we can talk about this tomorrow morning before you go to school." He offered his children a small smile as they hesitantly obliged. Shirou could hardly move, but after using what was left of his mana reserves to reinforce his body he managed to lift the surprisingly light Tohsaka, bridal style.
Sakura pouted at the sight. "Mister Emiya, where is Shirou going to sleep with his room so damaged?"
"I suppose…" he paused, casting a glance at the violet-haired girl before smiling a little wider. "We wouldn't want to dirty another room, he can move his futon to your room, Sakura."
The girl seemed to twitch before a frail smile graced her lips. "That's quite wise of you. If you don't mind, I can move your futon, Senpai." Not even waiting for a response, the girl set down her teapot and squeaked out the door.
Blinking several times as if trying to rationalize what had just happened, Shirou carefully moved through the now open door to put Rin to bed.
Down the hall, past his own room - which featured a new exit outside - and around the corner to the farthest room possible on this side of the house. Illya opened the door for him and Shirou wasted no time settling the girl down on her bed. When he lifted the blanket to cover her, he set it down gently as if dropping it would shatter her like she were frail porcelain.
"At least she was already dressed for bed. Otherwise, you would have had to change her," Illya commented, propping her hands on her hips and looking at the face of the near-unconscious woman.
Sputtering, Shirou turned to his sister. "W-why would I have to undress her? I wouldn't even think of doing that anyway!" Unseen to Shirou, the drained magus blushed and tried to turn her head away.
"Well we couldn't let her sleep in normal clothes and I wouldn't be strong enough to do it. Why don't you want to undress Tohsaka? A lot of guys will kill for the chance. Do you think she's not pretty?"
Now it was Shirou's turn to blush. "That's not the point! Rin is very good loo-" Shirou stopped abruptly, twitching as he realized what he had just said. If the giggle Illya gave was any indication, she was playing with him, again.
"You're so fun to mess with, big brother." She turned to him, beaming up with a bright smile. "You're going to have to make a choice sooner or later you know."
Just as he was about to ask what that meant, Illya jumped up and kissed him on the cheek. Before he could really determine if that had just happened, he was being roughly shoved out of the room with surprising force from a girl who apparently couldn't undress someone on her own. Just as thought returned to him, he was forced out the door which slammed closed behind him. Grumbling in frustration, he looked around to ensure nobody had witnessed anything. She had done that just to distract him, right?
The bad part was that it had worked.
… … …
Sakura's room was surprisingly the most furnished room in the entire Emiya household. Two dressers, a king-sized bed, a desk with an office-type chair, a standing lamp and an old china cabinet that was packed with kitsch.
Shirou wasn't comfortable sleeping in the same room as Sakura but he couldn't argue against the sound logic Kiritsugu had used. He would have to clean whichever room he used and while housework wasn't a bad thing in Shirou's mind, it was a waste of time to the old man. Kiritsugu let a lot of things slide, but wasting time was definitely something he wouldn't allow.
Sakura had demanded that Shirou do nothing while she prepared his bedding. According to her, he had taken enough abuse tonight so he would just need to rest while she handled everything. Even though his arms felt like they would fall off in a slight breeze, Shirou disliked having things done for him.
But trying to fight against Sakura when she had her mind set on something was like trying to make a horse walk on two legs. Not wanting to be entirely idle, Shirou peeked around the room to look at all the knick-knacks Kiritsugu had hidden away. The rest of their house was abnormally free of any clutter. Now Shirou knew why. The old man had stored it all away here whenever he grew tired of it. All the gifts and mementos were forgotten with time here, it was ironic that Sakura was sleeping here.
Statues, trinkets, souvenirs and cards lined the dressers, but something else caught Shirou's eye. It looked like an old dusty jar about half full of black liquid. Curiously, the boy picked it up and examined the contents. Something about the fluid inside disturbed him as if it was impure and vile. There was no sensory response from the jar beyond a pit in his gut that warned him to move away.
Well, if his natural senses didn't work, his magical sense might. Tracing the jar and its contents, information suddenly flooded his mind and sickened him to the core. The fluid had been a worm, specifically a crest worm. The jar itself was a magical construct of his father, maintained for all these years so he could conduct experiments on the contents. The jar had been opened a total of six times. Focusing more on the contents rather than the container, Shirou found the worm-goo to be about eight years old. Oddly enough, a steady stream of mana was connected to the fluid, trailing off somewhere to the south.
Shirou broke off the information flow, compiling the rest of the data he received for later use. He had heard of these worms before in his father's journal. They were the foul creatures working under Zouken. There was a pause as he tried to figure out what that really meant. They weren't pets, but magical creatures powered to act as the old man's body. If that were true, then the mana connection would link the physical body with this liquid worm. That likely meant its location could be seen or detected in some way.
Empty sections of a puzzle within Shirou's mind suddenly filled themselves. This worm, what was left of it, had been how Zouken and Kariya were able to find Iri and Maiya so easily. Shirou wasn't very educated in familiars, but the old man might have been able to effectively see inside the house through the eyes of the worm if it were alive at the time. That was if the creature even had eyes. It was likely how Zouken knew when to strike to retrieve Sakura the first time Kiritsugu had rescued her. The jarred worm had probably been in the same room as her, inconspicuously observing and relaying information to its master.
The pain in Shirou's body replaced itself with seething anger. So much pain had been indirectly caused by this worm. Maiya had been forced to use her own life to kill Kariya and protect Irisviel. Sakura was stolen from a decent life and forced back into a slave-like state for the second time. Who knows what else the disgusting Matou might have done to cause more suffering, all due to this worm.
There was a voice from behind him but his attention was locked on the jar in his hand. Zouken had continually supplied what was left of his creature with mana. Even after it decomposed into what was essentially tar, he kept an eye on it for one reason or another. Shirou would discover why, but not tonight, not now. As calm as he could, he set the jar back in its place and turned to face a concerned Sakura. Something in his mind told him to trace her, but his heart stopped him. If what he feared was true, he might do something stupid he'd later regret.
"Senpai?" she asked quietly, scanning his face for an emotion to decide on a response.
He did his best to hide everything; if it worked or not he couldn't tell. "I was just thinking about why the old man played such a dirty trick on us," he lied. Lying to Sakura was a risky move. She would see through it either way but if she called him out on the matter or not was another story.
She frowned, pouted, then looked into Shirou's eyes all in an attempt at conning the truth out of him. Shirou gave a smile as genuine as he could. "Maybe I'll tell you in the morning, I'm too exhausted right now."
… … …
… … …
The Magus Killer slipped on his coat. It had been some time since he'd last put it on, but the action still felt as familiar as breathing. Reaching into one pocket, he withdrew his black leather gloves and eased those on as well. To counter the unused stiffness he encountered, he flexed his fingers and tried to stretch the material as much as he could. His fault for not taking care of genuine leather for nearly a decade.
Even though he was effectively retired from his "career", he didn't stop trying to follow the task laid out before him. He had to aid Shirou however he could. If not only so the boy could win the Grail War, but so that he could protect those around him and put an end to all subsequent Grail Wars. To be fair, Kiritsugu hadn't done very much, but he was doing what he could. When they were younger he made sure his children wouldn't kill each other in their training sessions and now, he was eliminating a potential threat before it could ever emerge.
The familiar weight of his Contender came into his hand. He had just disassembled and cleaned it an hour ago after a lengthy conversation with Bazett. They had briefly caught one another up with current events and established their roles. She would train Shirou and Rin physically and privately train Shirou in basic runecraft. Surprisingly, Bazett only wanted money in exchange. Evidently, the girl had issues financially and she could barely afford a place to live.
The Calico followed the Contender into his coat, settling into place comfortably. Everything felt heavier than usual. Likely a downside of becoming the old man Shirou always claimed him to be. His thirty-ninth birthday had come and passed, soon he would be forty. Whoever heard of a forty-year-old assassin?
Grumbling to himself, he donned the well-worn expression of the Magus Killer and slipped out of his room as quietly as he could. Turning the corner to the entrance hall, he suddenly came face to face with his son, who stumbled out of the other hallway. The boy looked his father over like he was an entirely different person before a firm expression came across his face.
"Going to work again?" he stated more than asked. There was an odd feeling that accompanied the knowledge that someone else knew exactly how you operated. Four whole years had gone by since Shirou traced his journal but the two had never been the same since. It wasn't something anyone else could notice, but Kiritsugu could see a glint of something resentful within Shirou's slowly graying eyes. The Magus Killer hadn't let that little feature go unnoticed. It was something odd, considering that Caster had gleaming golden eyes without so much as a speck of gray.
Kiritsugu nodded slightly. What could he say? "I'm going to kill an enemy of yours you've never even met." Like that would work. He decided on responding with a single word. "Unfortunately."
Unexpectedly, the flicker of anger smouldered in Shirou's eyes. "There's no point in trying to stop you, so make sure you come back safe. Don't forget that you have people here who depend on you." He wasn't speaking about himself, but Illya. If he died, she would be grief-stricken into a severe depression. Kiritsugu didn't even want to picture his happy little girl in such a state. The Magus Killer nodded briefly again before striding past his son out the front door.
… … …
Kiritsugu had been watching the church ever since it was rebuilt. Risei Kotomine was still alive, surprisingly. For an eighty-eight-year-old man, he got around quite well. Whether it was the supposed grace of God that had kept him alive or some other force didn't matter: he was a potential threat to Shirou and he needed to be removed.
Since the death of his son, Risei Kotomine had continually paid goons to scour the city, searching for the Magus Killer like bloodhounds. In the first year, Kiritsugu had been spotted by one of these thugs and he had made the unfortunate decision to kill one of them. Even though the scout was unable to relay the information of the sighting, their death signified that Kiritsugu was still in Fuyuki.
All of this was why Kiritsugu rarely left the house. The sparse few times he did, he wore different clothes, concealed his face and hid his magical signature with runes. It was a sacrifice he had to make to prevent anything from getting back to his family.
Sure if the priest had taken the time to look through the school records he would have found an Emiya, but since Kiritsugu wasn't supposed to have a son, why would he look there in the first place? Thankfully the boy hadn't done anything to get himself on the news or to have his name spread around town.
All of this was beside the point. The Magus Killer was here to perform a task and protect his son. Due to the sensitive position of the priest, a simple ranged assassination wouldn't do. A bullet through the brain or a knife across the neck would cause too much suspicion and drive a full-scale investigation on behalf of the church to Fuyuki. As strange as it sounded, Risei would need to be killed subtly to convince the church he simply died of old age. Kiritsugu knew of ways to force a heart attack, but subtle espionage tactics weren't his forte.
It was quarter to one in the morning which meant the priest would be asleep in the basement. Stealthily moving up to the church doors, Kiritsugu realized that they were locked. Beyond that minor inconvenience, a bounded field encapsulated the entire structure. Neither were something that could stop the Magus Killer.
Placing his hand on the door, Kiritsugu closed his eyes and focused on handling the bounded field first. Even though Risei was old and wise, he was far from being an incredible magus. The design was average and, unlike the Einzbern field, far from uncrackable. It took barely a minute to implant his own signature to the field to prevent any alarms from going off. After that was done, another spell was used to unlock the door. In one fluid motion, he slipped in and closed the door as quietly as possible.
The inside of the church was pristine. Polished, varnished pews on either side of a large red-carpeted aisle which led to a simple wooden shrine. Candles offered an ominous flickering orange glow from the far end of the room. Coupled with the pallid streams of moonlight from outside, an eerie atmosphere purveyed the room. Thinking it over, it was rather uncommon to lock a church, was it not? It was supposedly a safe haven for the lambs of God, for restless souls looking for sanctuary. Either the following was disbanding or the priest was paranoid.
The scent of burning wax and scented religious oils clouded the air to the point where it nearly became choking. Holding back a slight cough as his throat and nose adjusted to it all, the Magus Killer moved down the aisle in search of a stairway down. Unlike the Einzbern castle, he hadn't interfered with the church while it was being repaired. Maiya had been the one to place the explosives throughout the interior and comparing the floorplan in his mind from back then to the layout of today was producing inconsistencies.
He would check where the original staircase had been, then move out from there. Keeping one hand on the Calico in his coat, the Magus Killer slunk around corners through the dark, checking every possible angle to prevent an ambush. Moving away from the shrine in the main entrance, the heavy scent of fragrant oils dissipated.
Opening a closed door, Kiritsugu spotted the stairway down where artificial light bathed the far wall. Obviously, the church had been renovated to include overhead lighting when it had been rebuilt. Withdrawing the gun from his coat, Kiritsugu slowly and carefully moved down the stone stairway into the basement. Down here, the scent of oils was replaced with the cold, musty smell of stone.
This first room was a sort of working area complete with a desk, rug, two chairs and cabinets for storing files. A doorway sat on the right and far walls. Both were closed although only the far room had light coming from below.
Moving slowly to limit the amount of noise he made, Kiritsugu slid up to the door and wrapped his hand around the handle carefully. There were noises on the other end, the sound of someone removing clothing if he had to guess. In one quick motion, the Magus Killer turned the handle, pushed the door open and pointed the Calico at the undressing priest inside.
Thankfully the man wasn't indecent, only missing his shirt as he prepared to go to sleep. "Who's ther-" He shouted in mid-turn, paling and dropping his jaw as he instantly recognized the man before him. "You!" he decided to exclaim, voice turning from surprise to unadulterated anger.
The Magus Killer motioned forward with his gun, face a visage of deadly intent. Understanding the message, Risei took a few steps back to put a healthy distance between the two.
"You've come here to finish the job?" the priest growled, trying to keep himself in control. "Return eight years later and for what?" he asked, fists clenching at his sides. Even though he was old, the man had the toned body of a competitive weightlifter. His muscles were toned and rock-hard. He would be a difficult opponent to handle in a fight for sure. Kiritsugu was hoping it wouldn't come to that but based on the anger in his voice, it might have to. "To kill an old man trying to forget the past?"
Kiritsugu shook his head slightly, keeping the Calico levelled at Risei's chest. "I've come to ensure the safety of my own son." The statement seemed to shock the priest, if only partly.
"You don't have a son," he spat, motioning with his hand as if it meant nothing.
"You're wrong. After the explosion at the end of the Fourth War, I found a boy among the fire and adopted him as my son. He'll put an end to the Grail Wars once and for all."
"And how can you be so sure? What makes you believe that some insignificant boy you picked up from an accident will become anything with a father as heartless as you?" Risei insulted, fury bubbling to the surface and staining his voice.
"Dreams revealed to me the evil hidden within your son." The priest didn't comment this time, likely appalled at hearing a murderer call his own son evil. "You weren't in the room while Kirei's wife, Claudia Hortensia, passed away, so you wouldn't understand what I'm talking about." Kiritsugu shook his head partly, putting his free hand into his coat pocket. "A dream years before the War revealed my death at the hands of your son. He was an executor, a user of Bajiquan and black keys, correct?"
The priest nodded wordlessly.
"He used both these techniques in our battle. Our fight ended in a stalemate, ultimately we would both be killed in our own final attacks. There was no winner and no loser, just an ending. To prevent this, I instructed a contact of mine to follow and investigate your son so that I could verify him as a master in the oncoming war. In 1992, following the death of his wife, command seals appeared and you, and your son planned to work together with Tokiomi Tohsaka so that the Tohsaka family could claim the Grail." Kiritsugu paused to swallow. "After verifying the events revealed by my dream, measures were taken to plant explosives throughout the former Church. You may have remembered a young woman with dark green hair frequently visiting before never being seen again. She was my assistant and her job was to plant all of the internal explosives. She commented on her liking of flowers and you took it upon yourself to begin gardening to try and surprise her. It wasn't an organized plan of mine, but the action saved you from the same fate as your son."
The priest seemed to re-stiffen as his anger returned.
"The War required an overseer and if you were unable to hold your place, another might delay the War for an investigation to determine who was attempting to overthrow the War would have occurred. You, however, are too wise and too willing to help Tokiomi to halt the War for even a second. It was the perfect plan since I would never cross your mind as a potential suspect, until…"
"Another master came forward and proved you were guilty." Risei finished the thought, voice quite a bit calmer than it had been.
"Correct. That master was the man I had hired to keep an eye on your son. He had deliberately been toying with me and my life from the start of the War. Setting you on my tail subsequently sent every master against me. If I hadn't established a ceasefire with the master of Rider, your little wager would have spelled my death for certain."
Risei shook his head. "We're getting off track, how does any of this pertain to me and my son."
"It doesn't. I simply want you to understand my reasoning for both of your deaths."
"So you do plan on killing me."
"Of course. If my son becomes a master in the next war and goes to you to certify his position, you'd kill him right then and there as an act of vengeance." The priest made a tsk noise, far from denying the fact. "Have you retained any records of the War and its events?"
Risei shook his head. "I have no time to write things down, what need have I to pass on my regrets and anger to the next overseer to take my stead?"
"That's good, then we can do this one of two ways." Kiritsugu motioned towards his bed with the barrel of his gun. "You lie down and I inject a pocket of air into one of your major arteries. You'll die within seconds peacefully and whoever finds your body will believe you had a heart attack, nothing more, nothing less."
"And my other option?"
"I fill your chest with bullets and you succumb to a painful bloody death that is investigated for months which results in the discovery of absolutely nothing. Your killer will never be found, your body suffering the same fate."
There was a brief silence as the priest clenched his fists tight. "You have everything wrapped up with a neat bow, don't you?"
The Magus Killer nodded. "We're both getting old. The less struggling, the better for both of us."
"Because you're starting to show signs of age and want an easy ending, I should just lay down and die for your son after you mercilessly murdered my own?" The priest made a fair point, Kiritsugu was asking for a lot. With a grumble and a shuffle from the hand in his pocket, the Magus Killer withdrew a tape recorder. It was gray but it had slightly yellowed with age. The surface and its buttons were rather well worn but it seemed in decent shape all the same.
"This is a recording taken from within the hospital during Claudia Hortensia's last moments with her husband. I believe it will provide all the explanation you need." Keeping the gun trained on the priest, Kiritsugu slowly bent down and placed the device on the ground. With a gentle kick, it slid just in front of the priest.
… … …
"Even with a family, he couldn't find anything to fill that void inside him." Risei sighed. "I can't deny that this is my son. My real son, not the obedient facade but the person he really was." The anger in his voice had been replaced with a disheartened, almost depressed tone.
"Kirei only wished for pain and suffering, if he had gotten a chance at claiming the Grail I can only imagine what his wish would have been," Kiritsugu agreed, shifting his arm after having held the Calico for so long. "Have you decided on your resting place?"
Risei lowered his head, shoulder slumping forwards as he considered the words in their entirety. The distance was too far to cover with a fist, but nowhere near large enough for him to have even a possibility of dodging a bullet. "I will die peacefully, although I wish to make a request. You can grant one simple thing to a dying old man, can't you?"
Kiritsugu slowly nodded. "So long as it is within reason, I will grant it." A man's last request was to be respected. He was the Magus Killer, an assassin, but not a savage animal. The priest wasn't some heartless Sealing Designate who cared little for the wellbeing of innocents, nor was he obstructing some colossal goal. On top of all this, Risei had no chance of making it out alive.
"Allow me to leave a code for the next overseer to take my place so that they may use the command seals I've gathered over the years." Kiritsugu looked over the priest's arms, looking over at least a dozen command seals scaling from his wrist to his shoulder. It was a risky move as whoever the next overseer would be might have the possibility of being a master in the Fifth Grail War. A small chance, but stranger things had happened. Was sacrificing what little civility he had worth taking a minor risk?
"Very well, I expect you will encode it in a way that the average magus will not discover it." Kiritsugu huffed, squinting partly as the priest seemed to relax a touch.
The priest nodded before slowly shuffling over to his bed. He raised both of his open hands to show he wasn't planning on reaching under something for a weapon. The Magus Killer spotted his goal, a pen and piece of paper which rested on the night table, filled with scribblings and writings that couldn't be made out. That was odd, Kiritsugu was certain he could have seen much smaller things from farther out just a few years ago. Cautiously, the priest picked up the pen and wrote something quite short on the paper. He sighed once, settling both items on the night table before clambering into bed and getting comfortable. "Let's get this over with then."
With some trepidation, Kiritsugu used his off hand to pull an empty syringe from another pocket. Stepping closer to the foot of the bed, the Magus Killer offered one last glance to the priest. His eyes were closed and his mouth was moving, likely a final prayer to whatever deity he believed in.
Murdering someone so personally and peacefully like this was rather sickening. When death came at the end of a countdown, emotions ran high. Regret, nervousness, anxiety and fear above all else. Fear of what came afterwards, what would await them at the end of this life. The mind couldn't properly handle questions of that calibre, so it settled with fearing the unknown. The Magus Killer preferred unexpected kills much more. No regret, no suffering, just one quick motion and the light was extinguished. It was much easier to die with aspirations and dreams than to realize you would never achieve them as your life closed in around you.
Kiritsugu didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.
… … …
… … …
… … …
Shirou hardly registered that the school bell had rung until a prodding on his shoulder pulled him from his daydream.
"You look a little lost, Emiya." Turning to see who the voice belonged to, Shirou met the - rather pretty - smiling face of Mitsuzuri. Shirou hardly understood what she'd said, but her smile was contagious and it immediately latched onto him.
"Guess I got a little caught up thinking about some things," he admitted, slowly packing up his books.
The girl hummed solemnly, placing one fist on her hip. "Are you coming to Archery Club today?"
Shirou paused his packing for a moment. "Of course, I always let you know in advance if I'm not going to show up." Sliding the last of his books into his bag, he stood and gave a quizzical look. "You need me for something, don't you?"
"Besides cleaning, fixing up broken equipment, leading the entire team, being our flagship archer and attracting all of the younger girls to our class all on your own?" Mitsuzuri shook her head. "Not only do you work hard in the club, but you also work a part-time job. Take a break tonight and try to relax." Shirou opened his mouth to disagree but she continued with a playful punch to the shoulder. "Besides, Tohsaka wanted to talk with you so you'd better go find her. Oh, and if you come to archery I'll hit you for real!" Backing up slowly, the bright girl gave a casual wave and left the room.
Shirou was alone in the classroom now, rather confused about what to do with himself. What had Mitsuzuri meant by Rin wanting to speak with him? They spoke almost every day!
Grumbling, Shirou lifted his bag and left to go find the young Magus. He just hoped that she didn't have any magecraft training exercises for him to complete. He had almost lost an arm in the last one.
… … …
Trying to find someone at Homurahara Academy was pretty easy. Since it was a walled schoolyard, Rin just had to wait at the main entrance for Shirou to leave. Eventually, the idiot would show up.
With arms crossed and her back against the stone, she nervously tapped two fingers. She wasn't impatient, people were just too damn slow. Would it kill Shirou to move a little faster? Well, that wasn't really right of her to ask, was it? Shirou always tried to do his best wherever he could. Was it really justified for her to be so hard on him just because he wasn't as good as her in magecraft? Even her mother has asked why she was so rough with him.
Her mother was the only person Rin could rely on and she had taught her so many things. Makeup, cooking, how to act properly in a formal setting and recently Aoi had tried to help her in her competition for Shirou. She had suggested Rin be nicer, but she was nice already, wasn't she? She didn't tease him on purpose, it just happened as a sort of natural defence mechanism.
Something orange caught her eye and her mind leapt to the foolish looking boy that made her heart skip - no, that was a leaf falling from a tree, dammit!
"Rin?" a voice asked from right beside her. With a noise of surprise she nearly jumped right out of her skin. Turning to face whoever had snuck up on her, the familiar, stupid face of Shirou clicked in her mind. A face split in a dumb, charming smile that warmed her cheeks.
"What are you doing sneaking up on people like that!" she shouted, watching the smile fade to confusion. She thrust her fists down beside her hips and leaned forward, trying to disguise her embarrassment with anger.
"I walked right past you but you didn't follow me so I thought I'd say hi." He shrugged, then motioned with his head back to the school. "Mitsuzuri said you wanted to speak with me, why couldn't you wait until you got to my house?"
Rin took a deep breath, calming her pounding heart. "Because you're going to be coming to my house tonight, I have an important experiment I need you for." Watching his face was like watching a movie with delayed video. He started to speak, then his face turned to confusion as if he didn't believe what he was hearing before his mind realized what was going on and confusion settled.
"W-wait, how am I supposed to train with Bazett if I'm at your house?"
"I've already spoken to her about the matter. I've convinced her that what I have planned is more important than hand-to-hand." With his attention captured, Shirou finally let her speak. "Years back you tried your father's journal and were able to see all of the information contained within." Rin purposefully left out her knowledge of how deep Shirou's tracing went. She knew as well as he did that hand-written books revealed the writer's thoughts as they were writing. "My father wrote most of the spell books in my family library so I wanted to see if you could learn magecraft better that way." She lied through her teeth. Rin wasn't doing any of this for his benefit, she was doing it for herself. She wanted to hear the thoughts of her father, to know him better than she had. Unsurprisingly, her father had hardly spent any time with her. He'd always been too busy with magecraft or with other matters concerning a magus. Fine details like his personality were entirely void in her mind. She still respected and valued him greatly, but his early passing had always left her…jaded, for lack of a better word.
The orange-haired boy shrugged passively. "Then I guess it's already been settled. At least I won't get my ribs punched out for the second time in two days." With one hand, he rubbed absently at his chest.
"I knew you'd like my plan." She offered a genuine smile. His words had an effect on her she hadn't fully expected. She almost felt sorry for him. The amount of abuse and pain Shirou went through every day was actually staggering. Archery without vambraces, kendo with Taiga, training against her and Illya and now martial arts against a high-ranking Enforcer? Not to mention all the training Kiritsugu forced him into and all the extra-curricular he put himself through. "Well, let's not waste any more time." The Tohsaka pushed off the stone wall and started on the route back home.
Shirou followed in silence for some time before suddenly breaking in with a sudden comment. "I'm surprised it only took a good night's rest to get you back into shape, you were pretty out of it after hurting Bazett last night. I guess it's because you're such a good magus."
A rush of heat flooded to her face. Memories of that night sharing a bed with Illya swirled around her head. That night, Rin had had issues regenerating her mana with her circuits so starved, so Illya had taken a desperate measure. It wasn't anything that could get her arrested, but it was incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. Rin doubted she could ever look at the girl the same way.
"Y-yeah, I'm just good at recovering." She clumsily went along with Shirou's explanation. Thankfully he was too blind to see through her obvious lie. Sometimes she appreciated how dull he was.
"Well, I'm glad you're not hurt," he said genuinely, making her cheeks rise a few more degrees in temperature. Did he say things like that just out of sheer dumb luck? Or was he secretly aware of everything going on but just chose to be ignorant? No, that couldn't be. Shirou was too easy to read to be devious like that.
Deciding not to comment on his words, the two continued their walk. Within ten minutes they reached the Tohsaka manor. "I've never understood why you want to stay at my house when you have such a big mansion," Shirou commented absently. Rin in the meantime put a key into the iron gate and yanked it open just enough for them to enter.
"Come in here, you might figure out why." She gestured with one hand, holding onto the ajar gate. With slight confusion, the boy took a few steps through the iron fence and seemed to grow uneasy.
"Why does it feel this way?" he asked, looking around as if that would help him find whatever was causing the sensation.
This was the first time Shirou had ever stepped foot into her bounded field. Comparing it to the field around his house wasn't even possible. The Emiya field was near invisible, only detecting a sense of malice from potential intruders outside to trigger the sound of a bell inside the house. While the malice-based warning system was common, the sheer complexity and hidden nature of the field wasn't. The Magus Killer had likely constructed it with his knowledge of breaking barriers working in his favour. He could hide away everything a normal assassin might look for. What made Rin feel more at home in the Emiya household, was the emotion radiating from the field itself.
It was happy and warm. If Rin could describe it, she would call it the sense of a family. The Tohsaka field had none of these qualities. It was large and gaudy to dissuade prying magi. It activated against every intruder, it forced normal people away and when activated, well…Rin hadn't actually seen it activated, but she imagined it did something threatening or damaging, or both. That was the only problem with reusing her father's bounded field. She had no idea how it worked. Worst of all, there was an impending sense of loneliness. An aching feeling that was simultaneously heartless and without humanity.
"It's cold, isn't it?" she asked, getting an uncomfortable nod. "I don't know how you've managed to do it, but your field is the only one I've seen that isn't harsh and uninviting like this."
Shirou continued trying to look around, eventually shrugging half-heartedly. "You'd have to ask the old man since he made it. I just supply it with mana."
Rin closed and locked the gate, walking past the still-adjusting boy to the front door of her house. "If you think this is bad, don't go to Sakura's."
… … …
There was a loud noise as Rin dropped a pile of books on the dust-covered table of her workshop. It was dark down here, ripe with the event of dust and candle wax. "Alright, let's give you something easy." The magus hummed as she ran her fingers down the spine of a few books. There weren't any labels Shirou could see, but he imagined that she had a system in place that told her what each book was. After a few seconds, she carefully pulled one from the stack and looked over its front and back cover. "How about one of the more recent ones about Conceptual Weaponry with Jewelcraft?"
"Why would I need to kn-" Shirou was cut off as the book was thrust into his chest. He could certify that it was definitely heavier than it looked.
"Just see if you can understand anything inside by tracing it." Rin huffed, skimming her fingers down the stack of books again, trying to find the next target.
Grumbling, Shirou lifted the book to eye level and turned it over a few times. Oil-soaked leather and yellowed parchment stained by the passage of time. The stench of musty oil and ink stung his nostrils. The cover was bland. A simple flat piece of leather far from the level of intricacy of his father's journal. Curiously, he cracked open a page only to find that the writings were in a language he didn't understand. "Rin, I can-" The girl in question reached over and slammed the book closed on his fingers.
"Don't say can't, just try it and see what happens," she instructed, pointing an accusatory finger at him like he was a dog in training.
Pulling his fingers from the pages, he gave a sigh. "Trace on."
… … …
This wasn't right. Kiritsugu's journal had been the equivalent of a cinema screen playing memories of a man from the inside. This was… Where was he? What was he? Everything was dark, shrouded in a thin veil of nothingness that was difficult to focus on. The person he was, likely Rin's father Tokiomi, was an empty black hole in the shape of a human.
The entire area around him was shady. He was in Rin's workshop underneath the house but things had been moved, holes were left in the canvas of reality.
The most prevalent thing to Shirou was the man's thoughts. The voice of the man's consciousness spewed from every direction, layering on top of one another with differing topics as if an audio track had been played over itself several times. Shirou could hardly understand a word from all the voices streaming around him.
He was stuck here again and the amount of endless information sent sharp pains to his temples. His ears pounded in agony as he was forced to suffer ceaseless noise. Trying to dull the pain, he placed his hands over his ears only to find the voices unmuffled. The voices grew louder and more fervent in intensity until Shirou was forced to listen. The War, his wife, his daughters, his life, the book he was writing, failure, the Magus Killer, Kirei Kotomine, his daughters…
If there was one thing Shirou could understand, it was the fact that Tokiomi loved his daughters. Sakura and Rin were on his mind every second thought. He wanted them both to have a good life, he wanted the best for each. He never once regretted his choice to split the two sisters. It had ultimately been the correct decision and it required no further justification. That didn't stop him from thinking about the two girls every second thought. What he did regret, was his absence as a father for Rin. He was upset over not being there for her. But he had a sure-fire plan to win the War, he would reach Akasha and return to Rin and Aoi alive.
… … …
A rough slap forced his eyes open. Rin was sitting on top of him with concern etched across her features. "Oh thank God," she huffed, collapsing onto his chest. "I thought I had almost killed you like Kiritsugu." She lifted her head and smiled, taking a second to brush the hair from her face.
Shirou, on the other hand, was still reeling from his experience. Extreme nausea and a lightheaded, feeble feeling surrounded him. His body seemed unsure on whether to vomit or collapse from exhaustion.
Blood pounded in his skull, sending aching jabs of pain in tune with his heartbeat. "I don't ever want to do that again." He lifted his hand, verifying that he still had motor functions.
Rin looked oddly sad, starting to pout. "That bad? Can you explain what happened?"
Shirou took a moment to check over his condition. He was on his back on the floor, likely having fallen over after he began tracing the book. Rin must have gotten on top of him to try and wake him up. That was when he realized that Rin was sitting on his hips.
It was going to get extremely awkward if she remained there for any longer. Feeling his face grow hot, he rolled his entire body and half-threw the girl off. With a noise, the Tohsaka barely caught herself from bashing her head against the ground. She adjusted her arms to sit up somewhat, giving him a sharp glare. "What was that for?" she growled, shuffling to stand upright.
"Sorry, I couldn't sit on my back anymore," he lied, pressing the side of his head against the cool floor. "I didn't want to puke on you."
"So you toss me to the ground, how chivalrous of you." She grumbled, dusting herself off. With a great sigh, she looked over the stack of books she had brought out and sorted. "Guess you won't be tracing these."
Shirou felt a stab of sadness alongside the sense that he was letting her down in some way. Knowing Rin, she had done this for a reason. She wanted something only he could provide and he had failed to live up to her expectations. But he couldn't do that again. If the book had traced like Kiritsugu's he wouldn't have a problem but what he just went through was nothing short of torture. "If you give me a minute I can take those books back and tell you what I saw." He tried his best to fake a struggle in his voice.
"So you did see something? That's probably why you had a seizure and passed out again. Was it just like when you traced your father's journal?" she asked with her excitement barely contained.
"I didn't see much but I certainly heard quite a lot," he admitted, moving so he could at least sit on the floor. Being vertical definitely didn't help his nausea but he couldn't lie on the ground forever.
Rin knelt beside him, looking into his eyes with an emotion Shirou had never seen before. "Did you see my father at least? What did you learn?"
Pulling a hand up to hold the side of his head, Shirou closed one eye and tried to stop the room from spinning. "I think I saw your father. He was writing the book and thinking about a lot of things."
"Like what?" Rin blurted out, shuffling a bit closer. She seemed anxious and excited about something and Shirou could only guess as to why.
"It's hard to tell, there were a lot of voices and everything was blurry. He thought about you a lot, he wanted to see you grow up and he wanted you to have the best life possible." The Tohsaka opened her mouth a tad, blinking in surprise as her eyes seemed to glaze. "He seemed concerned about fighting in the War, and he was worried that he wouldn't make it out to see you grow up. He really cared for you, even if he couldn't show it with how busy he wa-" Shirou was silenced prematurely as Rin leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck.
The contact seemed to ease the nausea and calmed his pounding headache. Shirou could have sworn he heard a sniffle as the girl tightly squeezed against him. Something he did understand whispered against his ear, was a "Thank you".
… … …
… … …
Shirou returned home hours later. He had put the books Rin brought out away and stayed a while to speak with her. Just as he was about to leave, Aoi made him stay a little longer for a cup of tea. Not wanting to be rude, he had taken up the offer. She asked him questions as he sipped. They started out normal: how he was doing, how his school work was coming along and if he was getting any better at magecraft. It was actually odd to hear questions regarding magecraft from a woman like Aoi. She seemed too peaceful and motherly which made her hard to picture in the harsh world of magi. The questions grew uncomfortable when Aoi started asking about Kiritsugu. Questions like, if he was married and how long he had been in Fuyuki. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she was interested in the old man.
Shirou didn't want to think about any of that. The old man could fight his own battles as it was. Shirou had tried his best to be respectful and left peacefully as soon as he could get away without appearing rude.
Stepping through the door, he alerted his arrival and removed his shoes. Sliding around the corner, Illya appeared. "Shirou, that guy is on the news again!" Just as quickly as she had arrived, the girl bolted back to the dining room.
With some haste, Shirou followed behind her to watch the evening news. Over the last few weeks, stories about a serial kidnapper were becoming more and more common. Usually, younger girls under the age of fifteen were kidnapped after being left alone. They were only ever found again as a mutilated corpse two days later.
Whoever it was had apparently been kidnapping children for years. It was only now that the police had figured out it was all one person and decided to focus their attention on stopping the murders.
The news revealed little. They still had no idea what the killer looked like, their motives or even their range of operation. Kidnappings had been reported all across Shinto and Miyama. Today there was another missing child and another body found in a park. Only, that park was the one right beside their house. Which meant the kidnapper was in their area.
After the news changed subjects, a mourning silence followed. Kiritsugu slowly took a sip of coffee to try and hide his disgusted scowl. "I don't think they're ever going to be able to catch him."
"What makes you think that?" Shirou asked quizzingly, standing to go prepare a late dinner.
"Whoever it is has been doing this for years and has only just been discovered. Someone like that understands the game, they know where to hide and where the police will look for him," the old man summarized.
Shirou hated to admit it, but he was right. "Then maybe the police need some help."
There was a snort, then the light clatter of china as Kiritsugu set down his cup. "If that's you trying to subtly ask if you can become a vigilante, mission failed. Taking the law into your own hands puts you in extreme risk. The police will turn their attention to you and you won't be able to use magecraft to protect yourself." He stretched in his spot languidly before continuing. "If you were a skilled magus capable of hypnotism like Tohsaka, I actually wouldn't mind. Since you're not, it's far too risky. As much as I'd like to see that kidnapper taken care of, you're more important to me."
Shirou made a passive hum, gathering all he needed to prepare a quick dinner. Bazett walked in some time later, awkwardly trying to sit on a pillow around the table before being instructed to kneel. "Hey old man," Shirou began from the kitchen, pulling out his favourite knife. "You never told me how that thing of yours went."
The man in question had been finishing the last of his coffee. Setting It down, he paused as if trying to find the right words. "It went well, no trouble. Hopefully, there won't be issues in the future." His voice was calm and casual as it normally was, even though he basically admitted to murder in Shirou's mind.
"It's just unfortunate you had to take such drastic measures." Shirou shrugged, chopping green onions with a bit more ferocity than he had likely meant. "Pretty drastic if you ask me."
"I wouldn't call it drastic…a moderate response, really." The Magus Killer hummed, turning toward Bazett. Illya and the Irish woman were looking between the two with some confusion over the conversation.
"How was your rest?" It was interesting to have someone who didn't know Japanese around the house. Shirou often started conversations in Japanese only to catch himself and restart in English. Everyone could understand and speak the western language, although only Kiritsugu and Taiga could be considered fluent.
"I'm still adjusting to a normal schedule. I used to work two jobs, one for the morning and one for the evening, so I'm not used to being so idle." The young woman reached up to scratch her eyes. Illya gave her an odd look.
"Why do you need to work two jobs?" she asked innocently.
Giving the albino a firm look, Bazett leaned forward to place her arms on the table. "Kid, you've got a long way to go before you could even realize just how hard life is. First you have to go through high school, then you've got to find a job and pay all sorts of bills." The woman made a motion with her hand, letting out a huge breath at the same time.
Illya offered a bright smile with closed eyes. "I'm almost out of school."
Shirou thought he heard the crack of a whip as Bazett snapped to look at Illya. "What, like primary school? There's no way you're almost graduating secondary school." The foreign school terms confused Shirou but everyone else seemed to understand.
"I'm nineteen and I graduate in a couple months," Illya calmly replied, maintaining that devilish smile all the while. Bazett blinked before straightening and looking around for confirmation. The old man gave a short nod, holding a smile similar to his daughter's.
The more Shirou watched his father and sister, the more he realized the two shared a sadistic quality. They both enjoyed embarrassing and humiliating everyone around them, Shirou especially. "I was born on 1983, November 20th in Germany."
Born might have been a stretch, but Shirou wasn't supposed to know the truth. "She might look younger on account of a physical defect she suffers from. She hasn't grown much at all since she was eleven," Kiritsugu explained.
The girl in question nodded ecstatically, face turning into a bright smile Shirou was more familiar with. Bazett seemed stunned, eyebrows raised and mouth parted as she comprehended what had just been said. The redhead leaned forward and rested her head on top of her arms. "What did I get myself into?" she mumbled into the table.
Shirou snorted, turning his attention towards his cooking. Bazett was in for a surprise if she thought this was as strange as things could get around here.
… … …
… … …
Since Shirou hadn't fully repaired the gaping hole in his room, he had to sleep in another room. Although, sleeping wasn't his main concern at the moment.
After waiting an hour to ensure everyone had gone to sleep, he made his move. Sneaking through the house with a technique passed down from the Magus Killer himself, Shirou slipped into his sister's room and spotted her sleeping form.
Creeping up just to the side of her futon, Shirou kneeled and prepared his hands. Illya always looked so peaceful when she slept, the few times he had seen her asleep that was. It was a shame that he'd have to disrupt such a quiet rest. In a quick flash, he covered her mouth with one hand, the left, and used his other arm to press against her shoulders to keep her from squirming out of his grasp.
She tried of course, anybody woken up in the middle of the night would. Trying to get her to calm down, he began shushing her. Gradually her flailing ceased but she still glared up at him in terror. "I have something important I need to talk to you about," he whispered, entirely serious.
She mumbled something against his hand, wrapping her digits around his wrist to indicate she wouldn't scream. Cautiously, Shirou removed his hand to find she was telling the truth. "What's so important?" Illya whispered, sitting up as Shirou lifted the arm holding her down.
"You know that kidnapper on the news?" She nodded, scrunching up her face in confusion. "I have a plan to get rid of him, but I need your help."
Immediately, Illya beamed happily. "You need your cute little sister to help you in something?"
Shirou nodded. "I'm so glad you worded it that way. I need you to be the bait." The albino girl paled even further, giving her brother a gobsmacked expression. Shirou caught the rise of her chest and he quickly reached to cover her mouth before she could scream. Muffled against his hand, she couldn't make very much noise.
"Be quiet!" Warily, Shirou looked towards the door as if the old man might burst through at any moment. "I don't want Kiritsugu waking up, we need to do this without him knowing." Illya strained to breathe properly with her mouth obstructed, wrapping her hand around his wrist once again. This time, Shirou held firm for as moment, leaning closer so he didn't have to raise his voice so much. "We have to go right now, to the playground we used to visit a few blocks south. The kidnapper is likely trying to make one last hit before going off the radar for a while so this might be our only chance for a while to stop them."
In Shirou's mind, the plan was flawless. Illya would act as a young girl playing alone at night to attract the attention of the kidnapper. When he moved to take her away, she would distract or scare him off with Engel Note while Shirou moved in to personally kill the man himself. While he absolutely despised murder, sometimes truly evil beings couldn't be saved. Sometimes they had to be put down. Stories Kiritsugu had told him and the memories trapped in the old man's journal had revealed evidence of that long ago. Sometimes the consequence of preserving an evil life resulted in the loss of innocent lives.
Illya mumbled against his hand, breaking him from his depressing line of thought. Carefully, he removed his hand. "What do you need me to do?"
… … …
The night was rather chilling to Shirou. It was January, Japan's coldest month. This year had been devoid of snow, unlike the last few years. With the swinging hot and cold temperatures it simply didn't stick. Illya had seemed depressed, but Shirou was incredibly thankful to whatever deity controlled the weather. Even though shovelling snow could be considered housekeeping, Shirou despised the chore. Maybe it was because of the cold. Having to balance the chill against his skin with the heat within his body from the act of shovelling was tedious. Even without snow, a cold, humid scent lingered in the air. A reminder of the season if nothing else.
To counter the chill, Shirou had thrown on a simple black windbreaker. Evident by the cold air streaming down his neck, it wasn't doing its job very well. Even though he was freezing, Illya hadn't even bothered to take a coat. She had been so brazen as to ask why it wasn't colder. For a demon from the pits of Hell, she sure enjoyed the cold.
To go along with their plan, the homunculus had decided to wear something much more childish from her old clothing. Since she had hardly grown over eight years, most of it still fit. It was a bright purple ensemble that was barely duller than her normal attire. Once they were both ready, the two slinked out of the house and covered the plan on the way over.
Illya had thought of a more efficient rendition of Shirou's plan. She could just use Engel Note to bind the kidnapper in place and finish him herself with Degen. Shirou would just act as overwatch with his skills as an archer. Even before Homurahara, he had been practicing with every type of bow he could get his hands on. The English longbow, the Japanese yumi, and recently, a recurve bow Kiritsugu had given him as a gift after first joining Archery Club. Shirou had appreciated the gift but found the modern bow to be lacking in power and elegance.
It had taken a considerable amount of effort and dedication, but Shirou had reached the point where he could accurately hit a standard target with only a few inches spread from two hundred meters. During his training, if he had missed the very center of the bullseye - even by an inch - he made five more shots as self-punishment to forcefully correct himself. Electing not to wear vambraces, he had flayed the skin of his forearms more than a dozen times in a desperate vie for perfection. After experiencing the wound so often, the pain hardly affected him anymore.
Illya had berated him for torturing himself but Kiritsugu had admired his persistence and pointed out that Shirou might have to use a bow after sustaining an injury to the arms. The old man had some logic in his words. If he never practiced for such a scenario, it might spell his defeat in an important battle.
Back to the matter at hand, Shirou had taken his imported English longbow made of yew. He hadn't bothered to bring an arrow as he could simply trace one to use or more in the off chance that he missed. He was perched atop the only two-storey building this side of Fuyuki. Shirou had guessed it to be about a hundred forty meters out and a quick tracing cut that number down to one-thirty-six. From here, he could see the majority of the playground easily. More importantly, he had a good line on Illya who was currently using the swingset, giggling loudly to assist in attracting the kidnapper.
A half hour had already passed with no results and Shirou was contracting a fierce chill. Maybe they were too late, perhaps the kidnapper watched the news and had retreated into a safehouse after this most recent hit. It would certainly be the wise thing to do. Either way, he would wait until Illya decided she was tired. Personally, he would wait for as long as it took. It didn't matter how he felt or how uncomfortable he was. That kidnapper needed to be stopped before any more children were hurt.
There was a shift in the darkness towards the far end of the park. Shirou squinted to try and see something but found empty space. Nothing was there, but something definitely had been. He was sure of it. Mumbling words under his breath, the tracing aria began and the image of an arrow leapt into his mind. While modern bows were quite lacking, modern arrows were definitely a leap in the right direction compared to their ancestors. With a three-blade broadhead, a carbon fibre-aluminum shaft and offset plastic vanes, the arrow was as perfect as could be. Reinforcement only served to make it better. Placing his fingers on the nock, the arrow materialized in place with golden sparks.
Shirou was prepared now, although nothing seemed to heed his readiness. Illya was still enjoying herself on the swings and nobody seemed to be coming. That didn't discourage him from dropping his guard, but it certainly made him wonder if anything beyond shifty shadows would reveal themselves.
Ten minutes passed agonizingly. During this time, Illya moved to the monkey bars and was clambering around the entire playset. The bow in Shirou's hand lowered for a moment, then was suddenly brought up as something purple caught his eye. It was difficult to see so far in the night, but someone with bright orange hair and a purple coat was casually walking toward the playground.
Breathing the chilled air deeply, the boy raised his weapon level to his eye and put tension on the bowstring. He had to wait. There was no telling who or what this unknown person had planned. For all he knew, they were a good samaritan coming to see why a little girl was playing unattended in the park at night. It didn't stop him from tracing the distance and discerning atmospheric conditions. It was good to be prepared.
The purple figure moved closer, casually walking towards the giggling girl entertaining herself. With about twenty-five feet between them, the figure stopped and made a waving motion with one hand. Illya stopped playing and took notice, closing the distance to ten feet.
He wished he could hear the conversation. If he could hear him speak and hear the fine details in his words, he might be able to conclude that they were the kidnapper. Squinting, Shirou tried to pick up on subtle features. He would put money on the figure being a man, if only based on the clothing and the fact that their shoulders were wider than their hips.
This man reached into his coat and pulled out something. Whatever it was made Illya flinch so hard he could see it from here. He held it outstretched and his sister took one step forward. If this man was the kidnapper, she would have used Engel Note on him, right? Panic settled into his mind all at once, washing over his body like a crushing wave that seemed to add ten pounds. Illya was a smart girl, she could pick out liars-
Wait, that wasn't Illya. Illya could only tell when he and Kiritsugu were lying. She was terrible at trying to figure out if someone else was. A strange sort of numbness descended over his body. How could he have been so stupid? Why would he let the most naive and innocent person he knew try to act as a spy?
Bow and string creaked in tandem as they were drawn methodically. Releasing a breath as the arrowhead touched wood, Shirou paused. There were a lot of things going through his mind to stop him. The fact that if he missed, he would spear Illya. The fact that this would be his first kill, the fact that this man might not even be the kidnapper. If Shirou's gut feeling was wrong, he'd be killing an innocent man.
The yew groaned in strain over having to hold a hundred and forty pounds of tension. Unlocking his arm, he slowly released the string. Unless he was sure, he couldn't commit. Even if there would be no evidence of the event, Shirou wouldn't be able to live with killing an innocent man. So he couldn't fire the arrow until he was absolutely sure. If the old man were here, he'd have berated Shirou for being too passive.
In the distance, Illya cautiously stepped forward, closing the distance between herself and the strange man. She continued creeping forward until she was almost within arms reach. The man responded by handing over what was in his hand. A few seconds passed and he even took a step back as she turned the object over a few times.
Then Illya collapsed.
Shirou had seen it from this distance. One moment she was standing looking at the thing in her hands and the next she was falling like a sack of potatoes. Eyes widening, he yanked the string back and lined up the shot.
But it was too late. The man had already scooped her up from the ground and was slowly walking backwards from the park. Shirou was unable to make the shot again. Not because of his morals, but because of the high chance of hitting his sister.
Cursing to the wind, he let down the bow once again, allowing the arrow to dematerialize. There wasn't time to think, he had to get to her as soon as possible. Throwing the bow onto his back, he ran a quick reinforcement through his entire body and carelessly vaulted over the parapet. To a normal human, a two-storey fall meant broken bones. For a reinforced magus it just meant a considerable amount of pain. Landing on the hard concrete, shooting pains stabbed up from his feet but that didn't stop him for a second. Pushing his legs to the limit, Shirou bolted towards the playground. It was only a few blocks away. A left turn at the end of this block would lead him straight there. The kidnapper was only walking so catching up should be easy, right?
Using a streetlamp as a pivot to round the corner, Shirou sped down the road and carried onto the grass surrounding the playground. Taking a large breath, he scanned the area to try and find the man in purple.
Nobody was here, the man had vanished without so much as a trace. A sense of dread settled into the back of Shirou's mind. Illya was unconscious in the clutches of a serial killer which was anything but good. Mind racing, he moved to where he had last seen the two. He needed clues, a trail to follow. Footprints were out of the question. They could be followed through the grass of the park but once the man reached pavement, his trail would go cold. Scent was possible, but with the light breeze, it was liable to fade away or send him in the wrong direction. Neither of the two were bleeding so blood trails were also out.
He was out of options and was running out of time. There was no telling how quickly this kidnapper could move or how long he would wait to kill Illya. Striding up to the spot where Illya first passed out, Shirou spotted something black lying in the grass. A plush toy designed to the cute likeness of a raven.
A quick trace revealed the plush was soaked in halothane, a powerful anesthetic.
-Insert evil laugh here-
Oh, how the pieces click together. A lovingly crafted butterfly effect that might disrupt the Fifth War long before it ever even begins. Didn't think you'd see him after all this time, did you? Before everyone strikes up reviews claiming inaccuracies, I'm going to explain what precisely transpired here in the next chapter, give me until then to bite my head off.
There might have been an entirely different reason for me to not include Illya as a potential love interest... :}
In the meanwhile, to take the edge off things, I have another question: do you believe the Magus Killer should have another chance at a family? As in, a loving wife and happy children? Recommend potential suitors for the old man if you want. Mainly consider if the man who sacrifices everything for the greater good should have a proper family once again, or if you think he even wants a family.
