EDIT: Red is a nice colour. Did you know that the colour combination of red and yellow are designed to make people hungrier? It also helps that it stands out and actively draws the eye. Great, now after just talking about it, I'm already hungry.

You'll all be glad to hear that writing is coming a little easier now! Toward the end of this chapter and from what I've started on the next one, things just seem to be able to flow better in my mind! Already got 5000 on Chapter 20, so hopefully, I can get that out soon.

We've reached 200 reviews! A big milestone for me personally. I'm kind of mad at all you readers, however, because you left it at 199 for so long. I was considering not releasing this chapter until it finally reached that number, but thankfully it did!

Sometime after this chapter, most likely, we'll also reach the 500 follower milestone! Half a thousand, big progress! Hope to reach 1000 who knows how many more after that!

With all of that over, please enjoy!


Looking in the mirror brought on a sense of depression. With deep-seated regret, he ran his fingers through his hair, huffing angrily as it failed to look any better. The messy, casual spiked look had been removed, replaced with a significantly shorter, styled look with much of the remaining hair slicked backward. It retained its orange colour for the most part, but his silver roots contrasted the flaming orange tips immensely. Bangs which had previously covered his forehead stood upright on the top of his head and the strands of fully silver hair that had originally sat above his left eye gave him an out of place highlight. The hair coupled with his beige skin admittedly gave him a fierce look that added two years to his age appearance-wise, but something was off. Shirou personally felt that his bright orange eyes didn't compliment his appearance at all. In fact, he felt that the silver his eyes were changing into would work much better.

"You look much more handsome," Reines commented from behind, startling him. Spinning around to look her in the eyes, the nonchalant form of the Archisortie appeared.

Recovering, he asked the first thing that leapt to mind, "How did you walk across the entire room without making so much as a creak?" When hardwood flooring aged, it creaked. And Reine's room had a floor made entirely of hardwood. At that moment, he had been standing in front of her bathroom mirror in a well-hidden bathroom connected to her room. He hadn't seen it before, but behind the large bookshelf was a fully furnished bathroom opened by pulling a specific book upon the shelf. Shirou enjoyed the prospect thoroughly, finding the secret-agent vibe interesting.

The girl shrugged her thin shoulders in response. Neglecting his question entirely, she thrust out one hand to him, opening it to reveal a small double-terminated, rose-coloured crystal. "Please carry this gemstone and put it inside your ear when you arrive so that I can guide you."

Shirou frowned, hesitantly putting out his hand regardless. "How are you going to guide me through a mansion you've never seen before?" The gemstone was placed in his hand. It was rigid, but felt slimy and gelatinous, unlike any sort of object he had ever touched before.

"The gem will allow us to communicate and it will let me see everything through your own eyes. I'll be inside of you in a way." The odd wording made Shirou cringe immediately, but Reines hardly seemed to notice the meaning behind what she had just uttered.

Closing his eyes and scrunching his face in disgust, he held out a hand to stop her before she could continue. "Never word anything like that ever again, please," he begged, carefully slipping the gem into his pocket for safekeeping.

"Find my way into the manor and silence the Animusphere informant," Shirou recited, growing confused as the sound of his own voice reached his ears. It was altered and entirely unplaceable. A single octave lower, with a secondary overtone that wavered to further obscure his real voice. That wasn't the point of concern however, it was what this new voice was saying that made him feel odd. It was cold and empty, devoid of emotion and focused entirely on a murderous goal.

That topic brought on more questions. When he had initially heard what Reines wanted in exchange for her favour with Lectra, he nearly asked if the blonde was insane. Murder someone to prevent her expulsion?

Now it was different. If this man really did have information on his father, he was a threat. Though was he really prepared to murder someone just to avoid the chance of his family being discovered? He was being ordered around to snuff out targets like a contract killer, an assassin. Was that all he was to her? Some sort of attack dog on a leash, trained to bite when ordered? Looking down at his gloved hands, he clenched them both into fists, causing the leather to squeak from the tension. "What are the chances that this informant really knows what you say he does?" he asked, producing a glower that actually managed to make the unmoving Archisortie step back.

There was a pause, a hesitation that told him more than her words. "Ninety-five percent. The Animusphere family wouldn't spend so much time and effort defending this man if he didn't have sensitive knowledge."

The mask featured black meshing over his eyes, meaning his accusing squint likely wasn't even seen by the petite blonde, but he made one regardless. "If he knows so much about the Magus Killer, why hasn't he come forward to the Mage's Association directly?"

Reines grasped her own wrist with one hand ahead of herself, trying to appear meek. "That would almost be a direct invitation for the Magus Killer to come out of hiding again. It's obvious that the man doesn't want to be found." Taking his silence as confusion, she huffed and began to explain. "The Mage's Association recently sent out magi to investigate a possible lead on the Magus Killer. Not even three days later, all three went missing. There have been efforts made to track them down, but there are several airplane tickets in their names and eyewitness accounts of them being in entirely different countries far from their supposed target." The woman shrugged half-heartedly, an action that reflected her true emotions on the matter. Her eyes sharpened after a blink, becoming accusing. "Why are you so interested in the Magus Killer?"

Gritting his teeth, Shirou thought on his feet and strode forward, encroaching on her space and forcing her to look upward. In the most ominous voice he could muster he gave a menacing, "He and I have some personal business to settle."

… … …

"Have I got big news," Luvia claimed, slamming herself into a chair at their table. The act jostled everything atop its surface and nearly spilt Lectra's coffee. Shirou had preemptively raised his own glass of water in anticipation of the act. A brief glance revealed that the royal blonde was exhausted, with dark bags under her dull, half-glazed eyes. Despite the obvious fatigue, she didn't appear any different than usual.

Her eyes locked onto his and he actively watched her perform a double take. She was staring at the area between his hood and his forehead, trying to peer through the dark place at his chopped hair below. Throwing his head downward, he tried to naturally focus on the remains of his fries.

"What's the news?" Lectra asked, wrapping both hands around her coffee. "Does it have something to do with your win in the Tournament last night?"

Luvia continued staring at Shirou, glaring daggers at him until Lectra called out her name hesitantly. Twitching, she casually turned with an absolutely spaced-out gaze. "What?" she asked for a moment, then snapped to her original thought. "Right, my news. For now, that can wait." Fanning her hand as if the matter had lost all importance, she turned back to Shirou. "Did you get your hair cut?"

Grumbling, Shirou allowed his head to fall further and contact the table with a loud thump. Giggling, Lectra laid one hand on the back of his head. "He wanted a trim, but the barber lopped most of it off."

It was an outright lie, but one that covered his real story efficiently. The last thing he wanted Lectra to know was that she was in danger of being expelled and that he was helping her by dealing with Reines - by killing other magi. While he had been exaggerating his hatred toward the haircut to start with, the extra attention he was getting solidified his resentment. People had been giving him glances all day although whether that was due to the events of last night or such a minor change of appearance really was up in the air.

People didn't jump out of his way in fear any more at least. Now they just avoided him and asked countless questions with their eyes. Even now, their table was the focal point of nearly every other magus in the room. If Shirou concentrated hard enough, he could catch the names of himself and his friends.

Luvia snorted into a chuckle. "Unless they shaved you bald, it can't be that bad."

She reached out to grab his hood but he quickly placed both hands on the back of his head to keep it down. Speaking a single word warning for her to leave it be, the girl huffed and sat back in her seat. "I don't care if you won the tournament you still don't get to see it."

There was a noise of confusion. "But I never won the Tournament, didn't you stay to watch the final?" There was a pause, then the noise of scratching as Lectra itched the back of her neck awkwardly. "I guess not. Well, after you let me win, I moved onto the finals and lost a close battle against Delia Jules."

The comment hit both Shirou and Lectra as a surprise. Lifting his head and forgetting about his hair entirely, what he knew of Delia Jules leapt to mind. She was an alteration magus who used a mystic code perfectly suited to her skills. In its normal state, it was a silvery cable made up of hundreds of thin strands, and without any adjustment could be used as a whip with some efficiency. Its real purpose, however, was revealed through the application of mana and imagination.

Delia could alter its shape, mass and every physical property of each individual strand. In one moment and with nothing more than a thought, it could change from a sword or hammer into a shield. The range of application was astonishing, as it could fill every niche desire with a mere thought similar to Shirou and his projection. The only facet which was lacking happened to be durability. Even though each individual strand was slightly reinforced, the material wouldn't allow extensive reinforcement and it could be broken with the correct application of force.

"So you didn't even win your own bet," he summarized, lifting his head to look at her with a smirk. Based on the rush of blood to her cheeks, that had annoyed her to no end.

Turning her head to look away, Lectra took a drink to hide her amusement. "It was certain victory, but even the most assured outcome can still have error."

"Speaking of the Tournament, I don't ever remember you thanking Blade for letting you win," Lectra pointed out. Following a minor stretch, the girl leaned forward until she was practically laying on the table with her upper half, pausing to adjust her arm underneath her head so it would be supported. Luvia's face immediately split into a vicious scowl. It was something Shirou had never actually seen before and he was somewhat startled by the change.

"Thank him for what? I never asked him to forfeit. Being honest, I'm actually furious. I had been anticipating a battle of epic proportions to see which one of us is truly the strongest, but when it came down to it, he was nothing but a disappointment." Her head turned to face him with a scowl. "You gave up your only chance to become this year's champion, to claim you're the strongest magus in the Clock Tower and actually mean it. Can you just tell me why?"

"Because I don't care."

Luvia reacted as if someone had punched her in the face. Recoiling violently before staring at him in disbelief. "How can you not care?"

Growing irritated at her reaction, he decided to reveal his own honest opinion. "The Tournament is nothing more than a stupid game. The tiers mean nothing and it's just a shady way to gamble on students." Shirou felt his face twist into a scowl. He just wanted to make her happy and give her a chance at taking first place, why was she upset with him? "A D-tier magus could beat an A-tier magus, it all depends on what sort of skills each one has and if those skills play to the other magi's weaknesses. If you want an example, just look at me. I don't know very many spells but I still managed to make the top three."

Growling, Luvia continued glaring at him for some time before huffing in anger and turning her head away like a berated child. A rather awkward silence ensued, with everyone feeling at odds about the situation. Eventually, Lectra perked up, nodding her head toward Luvia. "You said you had big news when you got here but never said what it was, did you forget?" she laughed hesitantly, trying to lighten the mood.

A light turned on in Luvia's otherwise empty eyes. "Of course I didn't forget," she lied, "I was merely waiting for the right moment."

"Well don't keep us in suspense," Shirou added dryly, moving his cup to take a drink of water. Eating and drinking had always been an awkward process with his scarf in the way, but after a few weeks, he had grown rather skilled.

"Our family might have a lead on the Magus Killer."

Shirou had to use all of his willpower not to appear blatantly shocked and choke on his water. Swallowing down the cough and likely depositing a mouthful of water in the bottom of his lungs, he did his best to appear apathetic with a questioning look.

"The Magus Killer?" Lectra asked with enthusiasm. "Pretty spooky name. Why would you be looking for someone like that? You know, with you being a magus and all."

"He was a freelancer for years, working as a gun for hire in the normal world as well. He was an all-around mercenary and since my family happens to be in the same trade, we started looking for him to eliminate the competition, as it were." Shirou felt his eye twitch at the eliminate segment. So that was why the old man wanted him to avoid the Edelfelt family. "He vanished for over a decade but now signs of his return have surfaced."

"What sort of signs?" Lectra asked for him, something he was grateful for.

"The rumour is that two freelance agents and an enforcer were sent to a city in Japan called Fuyuki a few weeks back. They went off the grid and were found dead in two entirely separate places. The bodies of the freelancers were in Spain and the enforcer ended up in the United States, someplace in Mississippi." The rumour added up. Kiritsugu had said he was putting the bodies somewhere less noticeable but the real question was-

"So how do you know for sure that it was the Magus Killer?" Lectra filled in for him again. Thankfully, she was just as curious as he was.

"Because of the circumstances and the conditions of the bodies. The enforcer was missing her family crest, and it just so happens that it was resold to the Clock Tower by a third party. When the seller was investigated, it was discovered to be an alias. They never existed and couldn't be traced." Luvia leaned forward, stabbing the table with two fingers. "Methods, motives, everything lines up."

"So what's your plan?" Shirou asked finally, trying to remain as calm as possible.

Luvia's hand froze jabbing at the table. There was a moment of pause before she shrugged and laid her hand down flat. Lacking the confidence exhibited before, the girl hesitantly answered, "Fly out to Fuyuki and see if the rumours are true." Suddenly, the girl narrowed her eyes. "Aren't you from Japan, Blade?" He nodded slowly, unsure of where this was going. "You must have heard about this place before then, right? Japan's not very big and magic is pretty lacking there, so..." She trailed on, waiting for him to fill in the blanks.

Moving past the insult to his home country, he cleared his throat and fabricated the biggest lie yet. "I'm from northern Japan and if I remember right, Fuyuki is in the south. I've only heard passing comments about it." He decided to add a little truth to make it believable, reaching back to scratch at his neck. "Something about converging ley lines."

Luvia huffed, "Then you're no use to me. I suppose I'll have to go in blind."

"Isn't it a little rash to fly straight toward this Magus Killer's home and knock on his door? If that's his name, there's probably a reason for it," Shirou reasoned, taking a drink of water.

Luvia scoffed, closed her eyes and threw back her hair with one hand. "Only old people enter retirement and if the Magus Killer retired a decade ago, he'll be extremely old now. I'll be able to find him, kill him and claim all the rewards and fame myself."

"So even if he doesn't intend to return to mercenary work, you'll kill him for the glory alone?" Blinking, Shirou mentally stumbled over just how idiotic such a line of reasoning was.

"Just because he's been out of it for years doesn't mean that he can't come back. He's already killed three people, maybe he wants to get back into it."

"Maybe you should wait a couple years until you're older. Then you might be skilled enough to handle something like that, or see how pointless it is."

Luvia glared at him as if he had put down her dog. "Are you saying I'm not strong enough to take him down?"

Turning to face her directly, he offered a glare of equal intensity. "That is precisely what I'm saying."

"And how did you get so knowledgeable on who and who can't take him on?" There was a glimmer of something in her eyes and an ominous feeling instantly struck him. "Hold on a minute, mysterious, can't show his face, excellent at defeating magi, from Japan," she listed, counting off the points on her fingers. "You're the Magus Killer, aren't you?"

He stiffed reflexively, not because she had figured anything out, but because she had gotten close. "I'm not the Magus Killer. If I were, how stupid would it be for me to show up in a place where everyone wants me dead?" Mumbling from the side, Lectra agreed that it would be "pretty stupid".

"Stupid enough to work. You go where you're least expected, a place nobody would be searching to lie low for a while before returning to your real home in Fuyuki," the blonde surmised, lifting her head in self-assurance that she was correct. The smug, close-eyed grin on her face was annoying him for reasons he couldn't quite explain.

Shirou let out an exasperated breath, shaking his head. "You believe what you want but you're still missing key points."

The smile on her face faltered slightly and she cracked open one eye to peer at him. "Points like what?"

"The Magus Killer uses firearms as his weapon of choice. I've never used a gun in my life," an outright lie, "so fit that into your character description." Their tone had grown argumentative. They were both trying to slide by one another but the friction in their differing opinions was causing cracks to form.

From the side, Lectra laughed awkwardly, an attempt at diffusing the situation. "Hey guys, maybe we should just drop the subje-"

"I just might, though to be frank, I'm more interested in how you know so much about the Magus Killer when you were sitting there in silence when I first brought him up," the blonde countered, ignoring Lectra entirely. Mentally cursing himself for the revealing slip up, Shirou's mind raced to start damage control.

Seeing that her words were being ignored, Lectra quickly reached out and gripped Shirou's hood. With one quick motion, it was yanked off to reveal his poor freshly cut hair.

He took a few seconds to recover from the surprise of the act, hands scrambling to recover his head while the royal-blue wearing blonde ahead of him remained surprisingly quiet.

Concealing himself, he threw Lectra a murderous stare which she deflected with a simple smile. Luvia gave a rather short hum of appreciation, drawing his attention back. "I like it. You look a lot older and cold with your hair short. Don't see why you were freaking out about it earlier."

Groaning and depositing his head on the table once more, Shirou mumbled out some truth for the first time in a while. "Because it feels weird to me like it's not who I am." He lifted his head long enough to look toward a clock, checking the time. He was late. Waver had told him to return to the El-Melloi office around one. Unfortunately, it just so happened to be one in the afternoon and it would take him ten minutes walking to get there. "Crap, sorry I need to run!" He shouted, practically throwing himself from the table and taking off in the direction of the office.

It took five minutes to arrive at a sprint. Taking a breath outside of the door so he didn't race in out of breath, he opened the door and found a room that was the entire opposite of an office. First and foremost, it was large. Wider than it was long, it was double the size of Shirou's dorm room. Secondly, the decor would be more natural in a common or living room. To the left were three Cabriole sofas positioned square to one another around a coffee table, leaving an opening toward an empty fireplace on the left wall. Each piece of furniture was made of thick inviting fabric in a warm tone, framed with dark wood to further accent its rustic nature. The floor was hardwood, but much of the space had been covered in rugs which were just as homely. On the edges of the room were bookshelves laden with tomes. They ranged from modern to ancient and were perfectly tidied without a speck of dust.

Even though the fireplace lacked a proper fire, the scent of burning wood remained, mingling with the smell of ink to sweeten the woody tone. Directly ahead, was a tall, hip-height table overloaded with books, papers and writing instruments.

The El-Melloi lord stood here, working over a piece of paper while Reines peeked at the scrawlings from his side. The rest of his students, Gray, Flat and Svin, were seated on the sofas playing a card game of some sort. Each one gave him a strange look as he entered and gawked awkwardly at the room. "Sorry I'm late," he eventually spoke once sense returned to him.

"You're late?" Waver asked, peering over his shoulder toward a clock hanging over a door. "I suppose you are, though when I suggested one in the afternoon, I merely intended it to act as a guideline."

Shirou huffed, mostly because his body still demanded oxygen from his run. "Well, then I'm perfectly on time."

… … …

… … …

When night eventually came, he returned to Reines and went through one last briefing to ensure the details were correct. The meeting also gave him time to prepare himself, something accomplished by adorning his new outfit and projecting weapons to affix across its surface. Because anonymity was paramount, he wouldn't be able to use projection as it was an extremely quick identifier.

The manor where he would supposedly find the informant was outside of London, near to nothing and far from everything. To get there, Reines had given him a car and directions, likely under the assumption that he was eighteen, or that he even had a driver's license - both of which were untrue. Regardless, he didn't want to argue or allow any more personal details to be known, so he took the car and drove himself without complaint. Even without a license, he still knew how to drive. It helped that the British drive on the left, just like in Japan.

Parking the car a considerable distance away, he surveyed the area and created a brief approach plan before advancing. Surrounding the plot was an expansive, somewhat hilly area with extensive tree coverage a short distance from the manor fencing.

While he had the chance, he tried one last time to speak with Avalon. Since last night, the relic had gone off the grid. Shirou couldn't even see it anymore, let alone talk with it. When the relic left, so too did the healing benefit he received from it. One of his greatest advantages was lost, and the mission he was set upon was undoubtedly going to be difficult.

"Still not going to talk to me?" he whispered to the still night air. Waiting a few moments, he half-expected the golden glow to return and begin its primitive way of communication. After a few seconds of nothing, he tried convincing it again. "I'm sorry for avoiding Gray, I really am, but the timing was never right for us to talk." Still nothing, not even a spark. Lowering his head with a sigh, he considered the situation once more. "I need you for this job. I don't know what might happen and if it's the worst, I might even die. So, if I promise to speak with Gray tomorrow no matter what, will you help?" He waited, searching within himself for that familiar gleam.

Regardless of his attempts at convincing, the artifact failed to make an appearance. Deciding that Avalon wasn't going to help, he moved on. Reaching his hand into a pocket of his outfit, he retrieved the rose-quartz gem. Pressing it into his ear with some uncertainty, he was disgusted at the sensation, which could only be likened to sliding cold jello into his ear. Just as he was about to complain about the feeling and the fact that his ear was muffled, normal sound returned as if a switch had been flicked. As the memory of the sensation faded, he pulled down the ballistic mask to conceal his face.

"You're late," came the flat voice of Reines. It was crystal clear and seemed to originate between his ears deep within his skull rather than from a single ear.

"I don't think there's a certain time you're supposed to assassinate someone, I think it just happens when it happens," he reasoned.

"I was just teasing. Find a way inside and get past the bounded field, the informant shouldn't know you're there." Assuming that would be all he would get from her, he cautiously moved closer to the manor ground, establishing a detailed view despite the moonless darkness thanks to his tracing. He took extra time to examine the entire area, verifying the perimeter before finishing his investigation at the back of the manor.

The home itself was built in the 1920s with large arched windows and pillars of stone dominating the facade. He wouldn't be able to confirm until he was inside, but Shirou placed it around eight thousand square feet. There were three entrances, all locked with standard tumbler locks. The perimeter was unwatched, at least in the conventional sense. Surrounding the entire area was an incredibly powerful bounded field. It was an entire league above the Tohsaka manor field, eclipsing it in both durability and resistance.

Trying to put the feeling it produced into words was difficult. The field actively tried to move his eyes away, like some sort of gruesome display or forbidden object. Even his instincts were telling him to stray away from this property, predicting doom and despair should he fail to obey.

Eventually, Shirou reached the back of the property, coming to the conclusion that there was no easy point of access. Surrounding the mansion was a massive wrought iron fence that rose nearly double his own height. He wouldn't be able to scale it on his own power and even if he could, he would fall straight into the bounded field and alert its owner.

Debating his options, he decided on something so simple, it bordered on inconceivable. Creating basic swords in his mind, he mixed in some alteration to provide him with precisely what was required. Within seconds, a ladder made of swords appeared, resting itself on the fencing casually. The swords making up the rungs were curled around the supporting blades, which happened to be elongated greatswords. The effort had made an extremely solid, and extremely heavy, climbing apparatus.

Scaling the fence with ease now, he came face to face with the imposing field, giving it a cursory visual trace to determine just how difficult breaking it would be.

Pulling up the teachings from the Magus Killer himself, Shirou gently placed his hand against the edge of the field. As he traced the mystery through contact, his mind was flooded with data regarding its construction and it hardly took him more than ten seconds to find a flaw.

In the realm of bounded field cracking, tracing proved to be an invaluable tool. Shirou could match Kiritsugu in speed and efficiency. While the old man was far more experienced and knew precisely what to look for, tracing revealed every single fault - even the ones Kiritsugu might miss.

Using a technique passed down from his father, Shirou adjusted the field to recognize his body's own signature as a friendly entity. Once he was certain the alarm wouldn't be tripped, Shirou leapt over the fence into the yard before dematerializing his ladder.

Stealthily moving toward the manor itself, he reached its perimeter and laid one hand against it to perform a proper tracing. Closing his eyes, the layout of the entire manor came to life, but something was wrong.

Shirou couldn't see individual people, but he could make accurate guesses based on the pressure bearing down in each area and its relative age. According to the information he received, there was only one person inside the entire manor and they were seated in front of a fireplace in the west wing.

Removing his hand, Shirou blinked then furrowed his brow behind his mask. For all Reines had spoken about, this Animusphere family didn't provide much protection for their informant. "There's only a single person inside, this doesn't seem right," he mumbled aloud, deciding to question Reines.

"You can determine who is inside? Intriguing, regardless, the Animusphere family is currently tied up with their own project, a supposed world order. Even so, they can still find the time to send out informants, spies and be a general nuisance to every other lord family." For the first time since Shirou had known her, Reines actually sounded annoyed.

Clearing his throat elicited a soft noise from the other side. "Why would they leave their own home defenceless?"

"They haven't. The Animusphere family is one of the most respected families of the Clock Tower. They lead the Astrology department and are notorious for creating complex, convoluted traps using runecraft. If you believe there to be absolutely no danger, move with extreme caution as there likely is."

Having Reines' smooth, sombre voice resonating in his skull was an odd feeling and he wasn't sure whether he liked it or not. Giving his head a little shake, he looked around himself to try and gather his bearings. He was at the backside of the manor, a place which featured an expansive backyard and a balcony over a concrete-pad deck.

It acted as an easy point of access, something Shirou could exploit. Reaching into his mind, Shirou withdrew the extendable bo staff mystic code. Calculating the distance, he spun the weapon to rest underneath his shoulder. Once he was certain, he sprinted forward and propelled himself upward over the railing onto the balcony surface with a soft thump. Not wanting to waste any time, he cautiously moved toward the door, extending his hand but stopping himself short like his body had locked up.

"What happened, did the connection get broken? To me it looks like you're standing absolutely still outside a door," Reines chimed in.

"This door is trapped, but I can't see how." Testing his hypothesis, he withdrew his hand, the sensation of the air changing drastically. Surrounding the doorknob was a compressed aura that had set alarms off in his mind. It was peculiar that he couldn't see the mystery even though he had traced the entire mansion.

"I assume it would be a component of their bounded field or the actual construction of the house itself rather than an overlying magecraft," she hummed, vibrations travelling through his own skull and making him wince.

"I can't do anything if the magecraft is woven within the material," he mumbled to himself, thinking it over for a second. "Or can I?" he asked, closing his eyes. He was a second away from speaking his aria when he remembered that he had a spectator. "Hey, Rei, what happens if I take out this gem from my ear?"

There was an oddly long pause before she responded. "I won't be able to see or hear anything until you put it back, why?"

Without answering, he stuffed one hand underneath his hooded mask to withdraw the gem. Now - confident that his secrets wouldn't be revealed - he whispered "trace on", replaced the gem in his ear and examined the construction of the door in depth.

Instead of Reines' commanding voice, an ear-piercing shriek stabbed directly into his brain. Twitching to the side from the extreme noise, he raised one hand to his ear, preparing to rip the gem out if the noise continued. Thankfully it dissipated within a couple of seconds. "Forgot to mention there might be some slight interference with the distance, my bad."

Clenching one eye tight as his ear recovered, he broke down the composition of the doorframe and determined that his instincts were right. Unlike most traps, which utilized a bounded field or some other sort of detection type magecraft, this one was a mystery trapped within every fibre.

He had options now at the very least. He could simply blow the entire door frame apart, although that was undesirable for several reasons. He could try alteration to nullify the effect or change its properties, or he could try something else entirely.

Reaching into his mind, Shirou found the anti-magic bolt and materialized it within his hand. With a rough thrust, it was embedded within the stone frame. As the concept was enacted, an eruption of sparks splashed over him and the area.

The two conflicting forces were destabilized and after a few long seconds, they cancelled one another out. Shirou dematerialized the now normal arrow and gripped the door handle only to find it locked.

With a roll of the eyes, he traced the lock and altered a blank key to fit the tumblers perfectly. Unlocking the door like he owned the home himself, Shirou let himself in and silently closed the door behind.

The inside of the manor was deathly silent and the air itself was heavy like he was in a dense evening fog. The interior was incredibly antiquated, with modern pieces haphazardly strewn about. It gave Shirou the sense that the owners cared little for preserving aesthetics, or that they were too lazy or preoccupied to renovate the entire manor.

Cautiously moving down the hall, he looked around and took in the decor. Lining the walls were finely made portraits of men, women and families. Several faces repeated, but it became apparent that the variety had fallen off. Visually tracing the paintings he came across, he took note of the dates of creation. The newer the painting, the more likely it was to feature one of two people: A young, confident-looking woman with intricately braided ivory hair or an incredibly plain, simple looking older man.

The strange thing was, the man was so plain and ordinary, he stood out in comparison to the other members of his family. Basic brown hair styled in no particular way, plain brown eyes and an average nondescript figure. From within his skull, a resentful Reines explained what he was looking at. "Marisbury Animusphere, the man who put himself through intense bodily reconstruction to be average."

Shirou didn't say a word, deciding it to be a risk he couldn't take, he continuing to skulk through the house. Placing his hand on the wall, he traced the entire structure and gathered a layout of the building. With knowledge of how the traps were being crafted, he could actively pick them out throughout the construction of the manor. One of these traps was actually just ahead around the corner at the top of the staircase. In order to reach his target, he would need to go down a floor, then pass through a dining room and the kitchen. As far as Shirou could tell, the shortest path had seven individual traps in the floor, walls and even the ceiling. He couldn't tell what each one would do and he had no intention of finding out.

Rounding the corner, Shirou projected another anti-magic bolt and threw it down onto the floor. Unexpectedly, only a portion of the area was rendered inert rather than the entire trap. Without running any intense calculations, Shirou gauged he would only be able to trace a dozen or so more bolts before he would run himself dry since conceptual weapons were significantly more costly to project. It took two more bolts to fully clear the area of embedded mana. If it took three bolts to clear each trap, he would need eighteen more bolts to clear the remaining six traps. That was mana he didn't have, so he would need to find a new route with fewer traps.

Pulling up the blueprint of the manor, he found exactly what he was looking for. If he went down the nearby set of stairs and traversed several smaller rooms, he would find himself just outside of the dining room, cutting the number of traps down to three. He could also reduce the number of bolts being used by strategically throwing them to open up small pathways without destroying the entire trap.

After some trial and error, Shirou managed to cut down the use of his bolts to four and he had made it to the same destination without there being much difference in time.

Entering the dining room, Shirou cut a path through a trap on the wall and continued straight into the kitchen. Another trap from the floor separated him from the open doorway which led to his target's location. After removing it in a similar fashion to the last, he gained a vantage point of his target from behind.

It was a man, nearing his thirties with shoulder-length ebony hair. He was sat in a tall-backed leather chair which faced a crackling fireplace. He was holding onto something which illuminated his front with a whitish glow, something which clearly stood out from the orange light of the flames.

Stealthily moving forward, Shirou crept closer toward the chair, reaching behind his back for a nameless dagger recollected from the British Museum. The simple leather band that had been holding it just below the hilt hardly made a sound, impossible to be heard over the roar of the fireplace.

Lifting the blade to his front, a thought crossed his mind. The remaining shred of his conscious questioning whether this was the right choice. If he killed this man, he would be committing murder in every sense of the word. It could have been claimed that his previous kills were all performed to save the life of another, but what was he killing this man for? To stop someone he knew from being expelled? Was that really justification enough?

No, it wasn't. Though he had come to that conclusion long ago, hadn't he? Before he could carry through with his true intentions, a voice stopped him dead in his tracks. "I don't believe you were ever invited."

Shirou's eyes couldn't even widen in the time it took the man stand from his chair. While Shirou leapt back to make distance, the man casually turned to face Shirou while snapping a cellphone in his hand shut. Shirou quickly shuffled his arms to grab onto the two combat-focused swords on his back. If things went sour, he wanted to be prepared at least. Drawing the blades in front, he felt both prepared and entirely out of his league and he couldn't explain why. "How long have you noticed I was here?" he asked with his altered voice, eyeing the man's features like a hawk.

The man had a sharp, almost jagged face with rugged olive skin and cutting features. Saying he was chiselled from marble would be undermining how angular his face truly was. Something that had eluded his sight due to the angle, was an eyepatch concealing the right eye. The remaining eye was a deep brown, nearing black, set deep within sharp angular sockets that gave the appearance of a man who was eternally angry. Such a gaze betrayed the rest of his face, which while admitted jagged was oddly friendly and inviting. A brief visual trace revealed a festered, damaged eye behind the patch. After falling to a secret weapon once, he wasn't prepared to fall for it again. The details seemed to escape Shirou as he focused on a single piece of jewelry hanging loosely from the man's neck: a silver cross.

The priest stood with confidence, no, he stood with apathy. Even standing before what could only be an assassin out to kill him, this man looked entirely willing to offer a cup of tea. "How long has it been since you first gained access to the balcony door?" In the midst of a chuckle, the phone in his hand made a soft ding and he calmly opened the device to see what notification awaited him.

A magus using modern technology was as rare as a six-leaf clover, so this sight was just another baffling development among many in the moment. "How long has it been since you broke open the balcony door?" he mumbled, looking up from his cellphone for a scant few seconds.

Shirou huffed, straightening somewhat as the danger of the situation faded, though his tight grip on Elizabeth's blades remained stalwart. "So the traps were your doing? I must admit, it was quality work."

The priest broke into a smile that nearly cracked his entire stone-like face. "The Animusphere defences were lacking in my opinion. There was also no way for me to detect intruders, so reworking the entire house was the best option." The phone snapped closed and the priest's attention was fully returned to Shirou.

"I suppose you know why I've come then."

"Of course," he stated simply, maintaining that eerie smile. "A man withholding valuable information does not go freely."

"And what sort of information might that be?" Shirou asked, hands tightening around the handle of each sword.

"Blade, don't-" Reines quickly exclaimed with surprising emotion.

"The typical sort. Insight into potential espionage or financial opportunities, locations of various members of the Church and Mage's Association amongst other things. Being an executioner of the church has its benefits after all." The man's cell phone pinged with a notification and he immediately moved to check it.

Shirou huffed. It was exactly as he thought, Reines was lying to him. He wasn't fully sure on her reasonings for doing so, but she had - and that was bad enough. He had been tipped off by the subtle things. How she always pressed his boundaries, the comments mumbled under her breath and the reaction by an A-tier magus, Kain. His night in the gym had been more than a moral self-reflection, it had been a breakdown and consideration of events. The only logical explanation was that someone had convinced Kain to overreact in such a manner, and there were very few people who could do such a thing.

The only issue now, was that he had to appear ignorant. If he tipped Reines off, she might actually expend some of her power to expel Lectra, or worse. If she could see and hear everything he could, then his own movements out of his sight would be unseen by her as well.

"An executioner? I don't believe I've ever met one before." Waiting for the man to pop his head upward, Shirou calmly motioned the blade in his left hand toward the ear on the same side, the one with a gem embedded within.

Eventually, after finishing his work on the phone, the priest looked upward and immediately seemed to catch on to what was implied. "Is it too hot in here for you? We can move to another room."

Or not.

Obviously, the man needed a more direct signal. "I'm not interested in moving to another room, I'm here to kill you, remember?" Slipping the blade in his left hand back into the band that had held it, he pointed directly at his ear, then opened and closed his hand to mimic the act of speaking.

The man snorted, was that supposed to be a signal of understanding? "Very well then, if that's what you must do." Casually, the priest tucked his phone into a pocket of his robes, raising his fists and assuming a stance. Retrieving the blade to his left hand, a silence clouded the room, interrupted occasionally by the crackling flame. Then, a slight creak of a wooden floor as weight was shifted.

As quick as Shirou could react, he was deflecting blades. The man had snapped forward and swung before he could even fully comprehend what had happened. Immediate fear settled into his body, and his muscles worked to counter the next incoming strike. His swords were striking not one, but four individual blades. In the dim light, Shirou could see each one held tight between the man's fingers.

The priest was fast, inhumanly so. Trying to predict the next strike with his suicidal tactic was even difficult, and with each exchange of blows, the executioner seemed to be getting closer to slipping past. In what was only a few seconds, more than a dozen strikes had been made by those claw-like blades and each one wore down his projections heavily. Both swords would likely only survive a few more hits before shattering completely.

An overhead strike was blocked by a sideways blade, holding the priest's arm aloft. Shirou readied his other arm to parry an expected slashing attack but was shocked when the man dematerialized the blades and tucked his arm tight. Before Shirou could even consider how to mount a defence, a fist rocketed into his abdomen. Upon impact, a blast of energy flared outward, sending him flying backward and both of his battered blades from his hands.

Blinding white pain coursed through his entire body, amplified as he slammed back-first into the doorway of the kitchen. Collapsing on the ground, Shirou wheezed for air, clutching at his destroyed torso. That punch had gone straight through his reinforcement and broken both of his lower ribs. Thankfully his lungs or organs hadn't been punctured, but he was extremely injured regardless.

Barely managing to stand on his own two feet, Shirou raised his fists in time to defend a few simple strikes, being taken by surprise when he was gripped by the collar and thrown clear across the room with unprecedented strength. Unsure of which direction was up or down anymore, Shirou collided and broke a large cabinet which was filled with glassware and various liquor.

Landing on the warm wooden floor with a wheeze, he forced his struggling arms down to push his upper body back up. He was outmatched, he had made the foolish mistake of underestimating his opponent but he could still fight, he could still win! It couldn't end here. Shards of glass and wooden splinters littered his body but the blood loss was insignificant. The pain radiating from his back and front was ignored as he gritted his teeth and commanded his failing body to move.

Placing one foot flat on the floor, he prepared to lift himself up to stand. "Your reaction time is lacking, you should work on that," the priest commented jovially. Before Shirou could finish standing, his head was being twisted by the chin to face the man directly. The priest reared back an open right hand. Was it over? His first encounter with an executioner from the Church would end like this? Then the name wasn't just a scare tactic.

The priest's hand snapped forward toward the side of his head. On impact, a deafening ringing dominated Shirou's left side and the entire world went dark.

… … …

… … ...

He was tapping a pencil against an open book. Inside, inconsistent scribblings from various dates, none of which signified anything of importance. It had been years since his last glimpse into what he could only assume was the future.

During that time, he had recorded every dream, each vision so he could exploit even the smallest detail. He had done well and had technically won his Holy Grail War by being the sole survivor. The visions had ended with the War, meaning he had lost valuable insight. Where or why it had ended was a complete mystery to him.

He was left to forge the future on his own intuition, though after years of meticulous planning, he was used to such a thing. He had to admit that he felt a little spoiled. After seeing how easy planning could be with visions of what was yet to come, planning and tactics seemed to be inadequate.

Dropping the pencil on the page, the Magus Killer leaned back and sighed. In two years, his two children would fight against one another in the Holy Grail War against two of their best friends. It would be bloody, cruel and it would twist Shirou into the very monster he wished to avoid becoming: his own father. And what of Kiristugu himself? He would have to pick one of his children to support and the thought of abandoning either for the other sickened him more than the evils of man ever did. What made it worse was the looming knowledge of what would happen to his daughter.

Or would this War be different?

Leaning forward, the chair he was in upon creaked loudly. If Shirou's resolve was strong enough, he could unite his friends and family under a common goal, fight for a single goal and save the world from the Grail.

Sighing, he remembered that he was living on Earth, a planet populated by man. Such an idealistic outcome was impossible. The best outcome still based in reality was bleak at best. Shirou would "win" the Grail War after destroying it to prevent the curse of Angra Manyu from being actualized by a wish. After such a depressing "victory", the two of them, father and son, would work together to destabilize the leylines of Fuyuki and prevent another atrocity from ever taking place.

Even after all these years, the question he had contemplated for hours years ago still burned in the depths of his mind. Why would he wait to demolish the leylines? Debating the question on his own, he came to the same conclusion that he always had. If his dreams had shown him the Fifth War, it was inevitable to occur. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that it took place a mere ten years after the last War, or that the Makiri worm happened to have a hand in its formation.

The reasoning hardly mattered. What did was that the War would happen soon, and both Shirou and Illya needed to be prepared for what might come. Grumbling audibly to himself, he came to the conclusion that it was incredibly hot in his room and he needed to cool off. The best way to do that would be through a calm walk during the early dawn.

Quietly walking through the house, he adorned his shoes and stepped through the front door. Standing just outside, he took a deep lungful of cool air. Caught on a light breeze was the scent of oncoming rain and flowers. It was a beautiful night, especially for a walk. The sound of a sliding door made him turn around. Peeking her head out, he recognized the refined features of Missy immediately.

Opening the door further, she took a step outside. Clad in nothing more than a yukata and slippers, it was likely that she had just gotten out of bed. This assumption was further enforced by the slightly dishevelled hair and sleepy eyes. "Where are you going so early, Mister Emiya?" Eyeing her curiously, he explained his intentions and she seemed to nod softly. "Would you be accepting of company?"

Seeing no reason to decline her request, he nodded and waited until she was standing beside him. She had gone back inside to change footwear and adorn one of his own coats. Considering most of her own attire was back in her room, it wasn't all that strange. With the two of them prepared, they both set off in silence into Miyama. A dull orange glow accompanied the rising sun on the horizon, warming the night-cooled ground and awakening the wildlife.

The walk proceeded for ten minutes in silent admiration. Eventually, it was broken by Missy, who calmly stated: "You don't seem to sleep as much as you should."

Equally as neutral, he shot back a response. "A man at work never truly sleeps until the work is finished."

In his peripheral vision, Kiritsugu watched Missy scrunch her face in confusion. "I was under the impression you retired, what could you still be working on?"

He had awkwardly backed himself into a corner. Even with Missy living in the same house as three magi, she had never been let in on the hidden secret. Kiritsugu had done such a thing specifically so that if she ever regained her memories she could re-integrate into the normal human world without much trouble. "I have to prepare my son and daughter for the world, of course." It was a half-lie, neither entirely true nor outright false.

The girl hummed. "I see, yes that is a lifelong effort. Speaking of your son, have you spoken to him recently?"

A pang of guilt ebbed its way into his chest. The last time he spoke to Shirou was on the tarmac of the airport just before he left. He hadn't even tried to call, but there had been a good reason at the very least. Communicating with the Magus Killer was enough for an in-depth investigation. While unlikely for another magus to intercept a call between them, it was foolish to add unnecessary risk to an already dangerous situation. "The other day in fact. He's doing well in his extra studies and should return within a couple weeks."

"That's great to hear, though with you being his father it's far from unexpected." The two turned onto a street leading back to the house, nearly bumping into one another as the sidewalk became cramped. Another few minutes of silent walking preluded a comment from Missy. "You said I was an assassin in my past life, does that make me a serial killer?"

Snorting air through his nose, Kiritsugu shook his head. "Not quite. A serial killer is unrefined, meaningless. An assassin has a goal, a reason to kill."

"But what if I was?"

"If you were a serial killer, you would have a reputation. As far as I know, there was only one serial killer in Fuyuki, and he's been dealt with as you know. My best guess is that you sought out the serial killer to kill him yourself but were caught off guard." With Missy's amnesiatic experience with weaponry coupled with the location she was found in, it was a safe assumption to be sure.

"So I was a serial killer of serial killers," she surmised.

Rolling his eyes, he chalked her fixation on serial killers to her limited scope of the world. "If that helps clarify, yes."

In her soft, shy voice, Missy asked a question after a short moment. "I think I'm alright with that. If I was killing bad people, that would make me a good person, right?"

Kiritsugu sneezed abruptly, blinking several times as the moment of surprise faded. Contemplating her question, he returned to the age-old question of right and wrong, good and evil. Murder was inherently evil, but was it so when the one being murdered was evil themselves? It was a question he had asked himself countless times, a question which he had been close to forgetting during his time with Natalia. "I'm not the person to ask questions of morality, you'll have to decide that one on your own."

Reaching the front gate, Missy suddenly stopped and turned around, watching something in the distance. Lifting a hand to her chest, she mumbled something to nobody in particular. "If I did it before, I can do it again and that might bring back my memories."

Pausing himself, Kiritsugu looked the woman up and down. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

Turning her head with a mouth parted with shock, she looked deep into his eyes, turning away toward the ground soon after. There was hesitation, or maybe it was deep thought on her own wishes. Looking back to him, both hands shot down toward her side, clenching into fists. Her next words were spoken with confidence unknown to the normally soft-spoken, demure woman. "Yes, it is. Teach me all you know, master."

… … …

… … …

"Blade?" Lectra asked, tapping her knuckles on the door to his room. Waiting a few seconds without answer, she sighed lengthily, knocking on the door once more with a touch more force. "I wanted to check up on you after what happened this afternoon. I hope Luvia didn't upset you too much."

All she got in response was empty silence. Groaning, she turned and pressed her back against the door. Sliding down to the ground, she tucked her knees up to her chin and wrapped both arms around her legs. "Come on, come on, don't leave me now," she mumbled, lowering her forehead and closing her eyes.

"Hey, Lectra," came a sudden voice. Snapping her head upright, she found Flat standing ahead offering a short wave. "Waiting for the big guy, huh? Mind if I stick around too?" Without waiting for an answer, he moved to the other side of the hall and slid down the wall, copying her position across from her.

Opening her mouth, a slight squeak made its way out before she cleared her throat. "You're waiting for Blade too?"

He nodded, stretching out a leg and resting one hand on the remaining raised knee. "El-Melloi Two sent me out to track him down. I'm supposed to let him know that he's needed tomorrow. He wouldn't tell me what for exactly, but it must be important."

Lectra nervously shuffled her hips in place, reaching up to yank the hood over her head. "I haven't seen him since lunch and he's usually awake around this time."

"You come to his room at times like this very often?" he asked, tilting his head and raising both eyebrows in something akin to concern.

Realizing what he might have taken away from the comment, Lectra lifted both hands and waved them as if the comment was lingering in mid-air and she was dispersing it. "It's not like that, we aren't dating or anything, we just like to hang out and we both happen to be awake late at night."

Flat's face softened and he nodded in understanding. "I get it. So you're not dating which would make you single, right?" Lectra's mind practically imploded. Was this some sort of signal? Was he asking to go out with her or did he have intentions to? What did that mean? Struggling to get a single sound out, Lectra couldn't help an absolutely stunned stare. She eventually realized how hot her cheeks felt and quickly forced her head down to her knees to hide her face.

"You feeling alright?" he asked again, genuine concern in his tone.

Snapping her head upright, she unconsciously bit partly into her lip with an incisor. Nodding erratically, she hummed in the affirmative and gave a less-than-believable "I'm fine".

"But you got all nervous and stuff when I got here." There was a flicker in Flat's eyes, a sudden comprehension. "Oh I see, I think I understand what's going on here." Lectra could feel the air get caught in her throat and became acutely aware of her own racing heartbeat. He wasn't going to say it out loud, was he? "You're embarrassed to be seen here waiting for Blade, right?"

Breathing out a relieved sigh, she lowered her head and took a moment to compose herself. What was she so worried about? Wouldn't it be a good thing if Flat knew her feelings? Returning her uneasy gaze, she put on an equally as unsteady smile. "Yeah, I guess. It's funny because I've been waiting for people my whole life so you'd think I'd get used to it by now."

Flat broke into a bright smile that sent a shiver down her body. "At least you won't have to be all alone with me here." Strangely worded as it was, that comment brought up a mix of emotions she couldn't quite describe. Feeling her cheeks grow warmer than they already were, she stuffed her head back down and sealed her lips to keep in a gleeful squee.

Before she could begin forming a response, the door holding back all of her weight suddenly opened wide and her back slammed onto the cold ground. With her eyes closed, she wheezed out a pained "ow".

"Lady Archisortie!" Flat exclaimed, voice moving higher as he stood. Opening her eyes, Lectra peered directly up the front of Reines Archisortie herself. Turning a shade even a ghost would be envious of, Lectra quickly rolled and scrambled to her feet, assembling right beside Flat with terror on her features. While Blade could treat her like a normal person, they certainly couldn't. Not unless they both wanted to be expelled, that was.

"Listening to you two was making me ill," she glowered, face set in absolute neutrality. "Just kiss and get it over with already," she scoffed. All at once the blood that had left her face returned and a wave of dizzying nausea struck at full force.

Intelligently from her side, Flat spouted out "huh?" and looked between the two girls. "Lectra and I are just friends. Besides, I thought she liked Blade with how much the two hang out."

Reines dramatically rolled her eyes. "Look at her and tell me if you honestly believe that." Darting her head to the side, Lectra tried using her hoodie to conceal her face. Why did it have to be Reines? The most mischievous person in the entire Clock Tower just had to catch them in an awkward moment.

"I must be missing something here."

"Obviously," the blonde sighed. "Your concerns are foundless. Besides, competing against Blade isn't likely to be a problem." The last sentence was mumbled mostly to herself, but everyone present had picked up on it. Even recovering from embarrassment, Lectra turned to ask the Archisortie what she had meant. Glancing between the two, Reines furrowed her brow and scowled partly, almost as if she had broken her favourite toy. "Blade might be dead."

… … …

… … …

Gasping in air brought immeasurable pain coursing through his body. While it demanded oxygen to function, two ribs were shattered and the pain with their slight movement nearly overrode such a fundamental need.

He was on the floor as far as he could tell, but the constricting view due to his mask and the blearing pain marred his sense of space greatly. His body came online slowly, starting downward from the head. While his legs wouldn't function, his arms came alive and he slowly moved to hold his lower rib cage still.

"You're finally awake," came a pleased voice from ahead. Lifting his head from the floor, the smeared image of a man in black returned to him. Trying to recollect the events leading to his situation was like trying to find the coast while stranded in the middle of the ocean. There was an informant, a mansion and a priest but how did all three line up together?

Mustering the strength to lift his upper body off the ground, he fixed his position, suddenly aware of a loud glass-like noise in his left ear. Tilting his head to point the orifice downward, shards and dust spewed free into his mask. "I hope I didn't hit you too hard, though I presume whatever was inside of your ear is broken at the very least."

Finding himself nodding weakly, Shirou slowly moved his body until he was sitting with his back against a door frame. His skull was continually ringing and just keeping himself from vomiting was a herculean task of will.

"Splendid, then, by all means, let's maintain some proper discourse. Unless you prefer that we resume from where we left off." The tone in the priest's throat was one of foreboding malice and Shirou found himself shaking his head before he could consider the options.

Sense was returning, albeit gradually. For the short-term foreseeable future, his brain couldn't operate the rest of his body in a manner that could be considered combat worthy. Once he felt capable of speaking, Shirou looked up toward the priest and tried to focus on his face. "Who are you?"

The priest nodded, breaking into a warm smile. "Introductions are a great way to begin. My name is Hansa Cervantes, Executioner, Dead Apostle hunter and member of the Eighth Sacrament." He offered a small flourish with one hand before bowing part ways. "I assume, as you haven't removed the mask, that you have no intention of telling me your own name."

Blinking as the ringing subsided, Shirou clumsily shook his head to try and assist. Behind the ringing was a deafened sensation. Had his eardrum been ruptured by that attack? "Don't take it as an insult, but my anonymity protects people important to me."

The priest hummed in thought. "Rude, I don't quite know if I believe you."

Deciding it was best to gain his trust by telling the truth elsewhere, Shirou started explaining. "Reines El-Melloi Archisortie ordered me here," he swallowed, using both arms and legs to shakily stand against the door frame. "She lied to me and used the safety of my friend to convince me. I wasn't completely certain on whether she was lying or not, but after you explained your reason for being here, I knew for certain."

The priest nodded solemnly, scratching the side of his chin in thought. "I see, given an impossible task to protect loved ones. I'm already beginning to see a pattern here."

"You're not a threat to my friends, so I have no reason to kill you." He swallowed, the taste of iron and copper filling his mouth. "That being said, I have a favour to ask of you. Something you'd likely never fulfill, especially for a stranger." The priest remained silent, waiting to hear the request. "Leave Britain, go off the radar - at least for a few years."

It was stupid, asking such a monumental favour from someone he had intentions of killing just moments prior. The man in cloth smiled, likely finding humour in how ridiculous such a request was. "Isn't that rather convenient."

Shirou blinked, turning his head somewhat. "I still can't hear out of my left ear, did you say no yet?"

A snorting chuckle followed. "I'll accept your favour, only because circumstance permits me to accomplish it while pursuing my own goals. I have business to attend to in the United States. While I'm unable and unwilling to provide any details, it is likely to take the exact amount of time you need."

Gripping the side of his head and closing one eye to calm the nausea, he struggled to comprehend what was going on. Maybe his luck was turning around for the better. "I didn't actually think of a response if you accepted, so you'll just have to take my thanks."

The priest received a notification on his phone and he carefully withdrew the device to reply. "At the end of the day, I am still a man of God. Providing charity is in the job description, I believe." With an eerie smile, the man snapped his phone shut and deposited it back into his pocket. "If that's all the business we have to conduct, I believe it's best we depart now, agreed?"

Shirou found himself nodding again, body working on survival autopilot. He had underestimated the executioner and it had almost cost him his life. Thankfully, since the man had a shred of morality in his body, the situation had ended amicably but had it been anyone else… "Thank you," Shirou stated, watching the priest nod and leave through the doorway beside him.

… … …

… … …

He barely managed to stumble into his room. After getting in the car, Shirou realized just how debilitating his injuries were. Even breathing was a continuous battle. His lungs had been bruised by the impact and they didn't handle extended use as well as anticipated. Every bump in the road back had been equivalent to a hammer blow to the stomach. The fact that he had even driven himself back to the Clock Tower with a burst eardrum and a concussion was nothing short of a miracle.

Octavia offered him a strange look and a curt greeting but otherwise remained silent as he limped past. Upon entering his dorm, he dematerialized most of his outfit and eased onto his bed. Avalon would- No, no it wouldn't. The relic had abandoned him, he would have to deal with this on his own in a different way.

He needed to find Flat to alleviate some pain and he really needed to speak with Gray and sort the issue with Avalon out. But right now? All he wanted was some sleep after a rough day.

… … …

Getting out of bed the next morning was nearly impossible. Hesitantly looking over his body revealed that he was more bruise than boy and a bright red mark sat at its epicentre in his abdomen. To make matters worse, his torso had swollen due to the displaced bone.

Shirou eventually cleaned and dressed himself, though not without considerable pain. Shambling through the halls of the Clock Tower like a wraith, he reached the El-Melloi office and was greeted with surprise. The one who seemed most surprised was Reines herself. Her skin had gone several shades paler than it was already and the expression of shock held more emotion than he had ever seen.

Flat vaulted over the sofa, moving up to him quickly. "You look like you're one foot in the grave, don't think I've ever seen you this bad." Lifting both hands, Flat mumbled the activation words for his miracle and closed both eyes to concentrate.

"It's unlike you to go looking for fights, were you attacked last night?" The Second Lord El-Melloi stood behind Flat, watching the interaction with crossed arms.

Shirou opened his mouth to speak but caught an icy glare from a petite blonde in the background. "I was jumped by other magi. I have no idea who they might have been but I was able to fend them off."

Making a noise of effort, Flat scrunched up his face. "Something's not right here. I could fix you up pretty easy before. I just visualized the repair and everything seemed to line up but that won't work anymore."

"You were only ever able to heal visible injuries, so this isn't much of a surprise," Waver commented. Shirou hissed a breath out through his teeth. So Avalon had been helping out there as well. Flat had healed every wound at each visit, including internal ones. Since nothing else had changed, Avalon had to be the cause.

"But-"

Flat started to protest but Shirou quickly cut him off. "If that's all you can do it's fine. I appreciate the help." Turning his attention to Gray, the petite woman stiffened under his gaze. "Can I speak with you alone?"

… … …

Trying to explain why he wanted to speak with Gray specifically, in private no less, was equivalent to pulling teeth. He managed to have his request granted even without a good explanation. Shirou had offered to go into whatever backroom awaited beyond the door in the office but had been quickly countered with fierce resistance.

So they took the most private room which was both nearby and unoccupied, Reines' bedroom.

Sitting on one if the bar stools, he watched the small colour-void girl amble around awkwardly before asking what he wanted to speak about.

"To be honest, I don't really know." He reached up to scratch his head but the pain in his torso stopped him short. "Why don't we just start simple. Could you tell me where you're from?"

The girl stiffened, then suddenly looked away so not even the slightest bit of her face could be seen. "My mentor, Lord El-Melloi told me to keep my history as a secret."

Shirou absently rubbed at his torso, gritting his teeth as he thought questions over. They had to be impersonal but relevant to something Avalon would like to know. "What do you know about King Arthur?"

The girl's head snapped around to look at him so quickly, Shirou was surprised when it didn't fly right off her shoulders. "Arthurian legend King Arthur?" He nodded, trying to find a sitting position that wasn't painful. "I know they were an influential person of Britain. That they drew Caliburn, the sword of selection and became something inhuman, the King of Knights."

Shirou specifically noticed Gray's use of "they" instead of a male pronoun as historical text would indicate. It was obvious that the girl knew more than just that. "What about Excalibur and its sheath, Avalon?"

Still getting nothing from the relic embedded within, Gray grew confused. "Avalon? It was said to make the King immortal when in their possession and they perished in the first battle after it was stolen."

Shirou nodded. "Avalon was indeed an artifact of such power. A conceptual weapon on par with divine constructs that was bound to the King and only the King." Shirou stared at what little of her eyes he could see. "So why do you seem to have a connection to it?"

The already pale girl seemed to grow a shade whiter, mouth parting in surprise at the sudden comment. All she could manage was a half-choked "what?"

"You can't tell anyone about this conversation. You and Avalon have a connection of some sort, and it's been causing interference since it first saw you."

"It can see me?" the girl asked, repeating him with a voice full of questions.

Shirou merely nodded, wincing as the act caused some pain. "Yes, and it seems to think that you two have a connection."

Gray turned from confused and quizzitive to hesitant and accusing in a second. "How do you know all of this?"

Contemplating how precisely to word things without revealing himself took a little more than a second. "Avalon was stolen prior to the Battle of Camlann, resulting in the King's death. It was never destroyed and has merely been dormant, waiting for its master who will never return. Through my own ways, I have access to the artifact and can watch it interact with people I come in contact with." Since knowledge of Avalon was nonexistent, he could lie his way through the details and explanations. So long as it sounded convincing enough, she wouldn't know the difference.

Gray seemed to believe him, although he couldn't really tell either way. "You say it reacts to me?" the girl whispered, turning to hide her face. "I have no idea why it would do such a thing." The tone in her voice coupled with the rising blood pressure easily betrayed the lie.

Looking inside himself still revealed nothing. Avalon still hadn't gotten enough to be satisfied, obviously. Times like these, he nearly wished that the phantasm could speak and reveal what it desired. Considering what the artifact was doing, Shirou's best guess was that Avalon believed Gray to be King Arthur. Perhaps the antiquated relic had just lost its sense, but Shirou couldn't see the connection at all.

To make things worse, he couldn't even retrieve the sheath from inside himself because it was no longer visible. It was almost as if someone had stolen it from him in the night, not so much as a trace left behind. At the very least, he could still project it, though would the connection reach the true Avalon?

"Can I trust you never to reveal anything spoken here in this room today?" he asked ominously. He was trapped and Avalon was forcing his hand. He either revealed one of his greatest secrets to someone he hardly knew beyond a name, or he went without one of the most powerful tools in his arsenal.

The two stared at each other for a considerable while before Gray slowly reached up to pull the hood down from her face. Blazing emerald green eyes and pure silver hair revealed themselves once more. "If those are the terms we're agreeing to, I have some secrets of my own to reveal."

… … …

… ... …

Casually opening the door, he stepped inside the small home. It was in a state of complete disarray, with empty takeout containers, empty bottles and worn clothing strewn across every surface. Knowing Bazett as he did, it wasn't out of the ordinary. Things were bound to get this bad eventually, he merely hadn't expected it to take so little time. Half-on and half-off the bed was a blanket-clad lumpy mass that was undoubtedly Bazett.

Sighing, he silently closed the door and removed his shoes before proceeding further inside. Careful to avoid any trash-based landmines along his way, he reached the lumpy blanket before kneeling on the ground with some difficulty. There was still a great amount of pain due to his injuries from last night. Gripping onto what he assumed was her shoulder, he gave her a gentle shake, whispering "Bazett, it's time to wake up."

When she didn't even twitch, he sighed and gripped onto the blanket, yanking it back to reveal a ginger-bearded man who was decidedly not Bazett. Confusion struck his face, but that was nothing compared to the cloud of alcoholic fumes that hit next. Reeling back, Shirou stood and made a noise of disgust.

Through it all, the man remained sleeping. If the number of empty bottles and cans around him were any indication, he wasn't going to wake up for hours still. "Hey kid, what are you doing out here?"

The voice from his side made him instinctively turn to look. What graced his eyes certainly was Bazett, but in a condition far from what he expected. The area from her chest to mid-tight was covered in a burgundy towel that matched her hair and eyes. In her hands, drying her still-wet hair, was a smaller towel of similar design. These towels were the only pieces of "clothing" preserving her modesty. Quickly averting his eyes, Shirou awkwardly looked off in the opposite direction, trying to purge the sight from his mind.

"Don't you have any sense of decency?" he asked, getting nothing more than a snort in response.

"You look around and see this mess, find a drunken stranger in my bed and still expect me to have decency? Don't know whether you're clueless or just naive." The sound of damp feet led deeper into the room, followed by the opening of a fridge and the clatter of bottles.

"I just had higher expectations. Is this your idea of lying low?" he questioned, still avoiding her by keeping his back to her general direction. The sound of an opening bottle preceded an audible gulp and noise of satisfaction.

"This is what I like to call stress relief. For the record, I was lying low by doing my job. While you were hitting on every woman you should be avoiding in the Clock Tower, I handled a designate and ran some courier work for Lord El-Melloi." There was a pause as she took a drink. "Which reminds me, shouldn't you be trying to stay as far away as possible from someone like Reines?"

Shirou sighed, bringing a hand up to rub his nose. "The old man told me to stay away from the Edelfelt family and to keep my nose out of trouble. Of course it's my luck that I run straight into both."

Bazett chuckled through the nose while taking another drink. "While Reines seems interested, we're lucky in that Lorelei wants nothing to do with you. No idea what you've done to turn her away, but good job on doing it. She's the last person in the entire world that we want snooping around. Neither of them have thrown any orders at you either, so things can't be too bad."

Shirou chuckled dryly, admiring the bland wall since he couldn't look Bazett in the eyes. "I wouldn't be so sure."

"I don't like the sound of that. What have you done, or what is it that you're roped into doing?"

Looking down at himself, he realized that his body was favouring one side. It had likely been done on instinct to minimize the pain. "Last night, Reines sent me on a mission to silence an informant that had something on her." Judging by her silence, he suspected she was waiting for him to continue. "I went, of course. She used a good friend of mine as a bargaining piece so I couldn't refuse…"

Shirou described the night, including his near defeat at the hands of a genuine executioner and the information gathered through their conversation. After it was finished, Bazett let out a lengthy sigh. "Sounds like you're down shit creek without a canoe."

He made a dry, snorting chuckle at his own expense. "Couldn't have said it better myself. I haven't explained anything to Reines yet but she'll be expecting me to and when that time comes, I don't know if I'll be able to lie my way out."

A thoughtful hum came before another sip. "You're a pretty poor liar for sure. Someone like her will see right through you." More silence as the two thought the situation over. "Have you considered cutting your losses and going back home?"

Taking time to mull the option over, he had to admit that it didn't seem to be the worst idea. Since he couldn't really learn any of the magecraft being taught beyond theory, classes were effectively useless. Alteration and Creation were the only classes that gave him a tangible advantage and even those fields had taught him everything they could. If he wanted to progress any further, he would have to continue researching on his own. The only major benefit from attending the Clock Tower had been an upgrade to his armoury from the Tournament, and with that over there wasn't much holding him in London.

Before he could answer, Bazett added on. "If you want to leave, I'll need some time to prepare. You won't be able to take off so quickly without someone going looking so we'll have to make Blade disappear if you catch my drift."

Scowling at the prospect, he moved his eyes to peer in the direction of her voice. "You want to fake my death," he summarized.

"People typically don't go looking for dead men," Bazett pointed out, spouting logic he couldn't argue with.

"How long would you need?"

"Depends on how long it takes for my contacts to get back to me. I'll see if we can make a convincing dummy but if I don't hear anything by tomorrow, we'll have to do things the hard way." The clatter of an empty bottle rang through the housing, eliciting a wince as Shirou thought of more trash being deposited in an already messy house.

The urge to clean was great but the pain in his body and his attention to the conversation was stronger. "You get on that. I'll try to stall with Reines as much as I can and finish up everything here before I have to go." A point of pressure struck him suddenly and he hesitantly raised one hand to press against his lower rib cage, an attempt at calming the sensation.

"Show up tomorrow afternoon. Whichever way things go, we'll make up a plan." He made a pronounced nod, turning to face the door only to be stopped as she called out to him. "Call your dad too, let him know what's going on and see if he has any suggestions."

… … …

… … …

The call to Kiritsugu had gone as well as could be expected. They had vaguely greeted each other with cold detachment, but that was mostly to preserve their identities should anyone be listening in. While unlikely for a magus to tap into their phones, the possibility still existed.

The old man had sided with Shirou, agreeing that he should return home before he wouldn't be able to. Kiritsugu had been decidedly less than happy about his revealing of a very important tool but eventually settled after considering that Shirou wouldn't have done such a thing without a good reason.

Something worthwhile that had come out of the entire exchange was the knowledge that Avalon was linked to all projected copies. The original and the copies communicated somehow, because as soon as Gray laid her hands on a projected copy of Avalon, the true artifact inside him came alive. In the end, Shirou was just happy that Avalon had decided to work together with him again. Closing his eyes reassured him that the golden glow had fully returned. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but he could have sworn that the rate of healing was halved.

Shirou spent most of his day in Hyde Park, moving around without his Blade outfit. Wearing casual clothes, he slipped on a projected hat and glasses and enjoyed an overcast day all by himself. The moment alone gave him time to grow accustomed to his decision. He would be leaving his friends in the Tower behind and would be squandering an opportunity to be a student of Waver's.

At least he wouldn't have to wear that stuffy scarf anymore. Breathing through that thing all day every day was remarkably uncomfortable.

It was unfortunate that he had to leave his friends so abruptly, but it was a mandatory decision needed to protect himself. To make things worse, he couldn't explain himself or even speak with any of them since there was a chance they could disrupt Bazett's plan.

As scheduled, Shirou arrived at Bazett's house five minutes before midnight where she revealed that her contact had come through. From what Shirou could pick up during her rapid explanation, a specific type of familiar known as a puppet would take his form and be a perfect doppelganger. After that, the copy of him would walk into a public area and meet an unfortunate end to a runic landmine established by Bazett herself.

With alterations to make the puppet more destructive, only scraps of clothing would remain, leaving nothing to discover or trace back. The public setting would eliminate any question regarding authenticity and sensible people would assume Blade's mysterious past had merely caught up to him.

It wasn't an overly complex plan, but it would serve its purpose and get him back to Fuyuki. Just as they had arrived, he would be returning by plane, another red-eye midnight flight that was only eased by the luxuries afforded by a private jet.

Leaving most of his clothes and belongings behind to make his "death" more believable, he didn't even have much to pack. He had been instructed to wait in Bazett's house until they could leave together. As there was nothing for him to do, what was supposed to be a quick couple of hours felt more like an eternity.

After a long while of entertaining himself by studying his own magecraft, Bazett returned. She casually threw a single bag over her shoulder and motioned for them to leave. "Say goodbye to Britain kid, cause I don't think you're going to be back for a good while."

… … …

"Have you seen Blade anywhere?" Luvia asked, peering into Svin's eyes and Lectra did the same to Flat. The two gave each other an awkward glance before shrugging almost in unison.

Lectra piped up, nearly standing on her tiptoes to be eye-level to Flat. "We're worried about him. We haven't seen him in two days. It's like he's been avoiding us for some reason."

Reaching up to his head, he made a grimace with his mouth. "Oh sorry, I forgot to tell you. He was in the El-Melloi office yesterday but he was pretty banged up. He spoke with Gray in private and then came back so I could try healing him again," Flat recounted, looking up to the left as if searching his brain.

"Hey, wait a second," Svin piped up, giving his friend a glare. "Don't you think it was kind of strange how you couldn't fix him to start, but after he came back with Gray everything went fine?"

The boy hummed, looking at his friend with troubled thoughts. "I didn't really consider it then, but now that you mention it, my magecraft seemed to change how it worked before and after their talk. I just chalked it up to me putting in more effort but..." he trailed off, looking behind himself as if expecting someone to be there.

"So Gray was the last person to speak with him?" Lectra concluded, getting half-hearted nods from the two boys. "Do you know where she is?"

"I think she said that she wanted to get some fresh air outside this morning. We can go have a look on the quad but if she's not there, I wouldn't know where else to look." Turning, Flat started walking at a brisk pace and the other three struggled to keep up. It didn't take too long for the small group to make their way out into the quad, where the warm noonday sun beamed down onto the grass and concrete.

Panning around the quad, it didn't take too long to identify a small figure wearing nothing but black and gray standing out amidst a sea of colourful attire. Alerting everyone to her location, Flat jogged over and greeted the girl.

"Does Lord El-Melloi want me for something?" she asked, looking between all four people now suddenly surrounding her.

"We need you for something," Luvia corrected, crossing both arms over her chest. Lectra gave the blonde a strange look, curious as to why she was acting so aggressive. "Nobody has seen Blade all day and Flat says you're the last person to have spoken with him."

Gray winced at the mention of Blade, looking down toward the side. In a calm, demure voice she replied, "We spoke, yes."

A silence filled only by a light breeze settled in before Svin impatiently asked if that was all. Gray shook her head, looking at Flat directly, rather than anyone else. "He told me that-" the girl stopped abruptly, eyes flickering before she resumed her train of thought. "It doesn't matter what he told me, but he was acting strange."

Luvia sighed. "Looks like we're all useless then."

Gray's head snapped to look off in the distance behind the group ahead of her, pointing toward what she had spotted. "Isn't that him right there?"

Four heads turned simultaneously, locking onto the sight of a tall man in black and crimson. The outfit and bright orange eyes were unmistakable. He was walking across the grass of the quad, ignorant to the five people all searching for him a short distance away.

Lectra hopped forward, extending her hand high and offering a wave. "Blade, hey Blade, over here!" she shouted, a bright smile on her face.

The boy in question turned his head but continued walking forward. The creases at his eyes revealed he was smiling, and he lifted his own hand somewhat to return the wave.

Flat made an appreciative hum. "Looks fine to m-"

Faster than a blink, an explosion spawned beneath the boy and a massive echoing boom precluded a percussive wave. The impact of the air was enough to send the entire unprepared group onto their backs, leaving them sprawling on the grass trying to determine what had just happened.

There was a cry of pain, intense heat and the crackle of ambient mana. As everyone tried to locate the source of the attack, they focused on what was left of the quad.

The blast had unearthed a significant portion of the area, throwing mud, clay and turf in every direction. A large six-foot wide crater was all that remained. Details and events were slowly recounted. Flat and Luvia quickly acted to verify that everyone around them was in good condition. Once a quick check had been established, the group collectively remembered who had been at the center of the blast.

Besides a single person making soft noises of pain, the area was deathly quiet. Without wind or wildlife noise, it was as if nature didn't want to disturb the scene. The silence allowed everyone present to hear a soft whump from the side. Looking to see the origin, Lectra spotted a singed, hole-filled crimson scarf.

… … …

… … ...

It was in the middle of the afternoon when they arrived in Fuyuki. The fourteen-hour flight and eight-hour time difference meant that their arrival and departure time was about the same, only they were one full day ahead. Shirou had successfully mitigated some of the jet lag by tactically sleeping on the plane. While his sleep schedule would still be in disarray, it wouldn't be a total train wreck.

They had been driven home by a strange man, who Shirou could only assume was hired by Kiritsugu. Bazett had walked into the house first, leaving Shirou to collect what little he had packed. Setting his bags outside the door so he could open it, he casually threw it open only to hear his name being cried out and for a white projectile to slam into his chest at high speed.

The weight and velocity easily toppled him over, sending the two crashing back-first onto the ground outside the door. Stabbing pain from his half-healed ribs returned at full force as the projectile weighed down on his abdomen and he had to struggle not to make a noise of pain. As the agony subsided over a few seconds, he realized that there were hands on his cheeks and a face dangerously close to his own. "Shirou!"

Bright crimson eyes beamed into his and immediately a sense of happiness welled up inside. With a laugh, he wrapped both arms around the small girl and gave her a tight hug. "Seems like you missed me."

"Without you here, everything is so boring. Nobody wants to play and I've got nothing to do," she pouted with her face pressed against his chest.

Releasing the girl, she sat upright and beamed down at his confused face. "Why didn't you play with Rin? I thought you two were friends."

Illya pouted, looking off in the direction of the Tohsaka manor. If you knew where to look, you could almost see the top due to their difference in elevation. "Rin doesn't like to come over if you're not here. I've only seen her one time and that was to drop something off."

Shirou furrowed his brow. "Drop something off?" Realizing that he was jumping too far into what had happened in his absence, he gave his head a small shake and returned to smiling. "Don't worry about that, I'll figure it out later." Motioning for Illya to get off, he stood and patted the top of her head. He tried to collect his bags but Illya rapidly snatched one and hauled it inside, having to use both arms to lift it over her head.

"Hey, why did you get your hair cut?" Illya asked, struggling to walk to the end of the hall.

Looking upward as if he could see, he laughed in spite of himself. "It's a long story." Deciding to leave it at that, Shirou carried on behind Illya toward his room where he deposited his bags and unpacked the contents.

After settling down from his trip, Shirou practically leapt at the chance to make an early dinner. The last meal he had cooked had been before he'd left Fuyuki and he had been yearning to work over a hot stove ever since. Eating at the table as a family - Bazett included - Kiritsugu filled him in on what little had transpired. The only major points of note were Missy's developments and Rin dropping off a peculiar, antique box.

Deciding to ask her about it tomorrow, he began the lengthy retelling of his adventures in Britain, describing the classes, his group of friends and the Tournament, as well as his public defeat of Bazett, who merely scoffed and took on another helping. "The only redeeming part of this contract is the food."

Kiritsugu laughed, picking away at the last bites of food in front of him. "Be honest, McRemitz, you've enjoyed yourself, haven't you?"

The two stared at one another for a moment before Bazett smirked. "It's been interesting. Shirou has the unique skill of finding trouble wherever he goes. It's stretched the skills I have outside of combat to their limit, but it's reminded me to constantly be on my toes." The woman shrugged, popping some rice into her mouth. "The money's good too." Suddenly, as if he had reminded herself, her head snapped toward Shirou. "Speaking of, you think I could get that five grand back? I'm running a little short."

Shirou shook his head calmly, focusing on a piece of tonkatsu while Bazett murdered him with her eyes. "While I wasn't gone for a very long time, it's still nice to be back."

"Since you're back, I imagine Rin and Sakura would like to see you. Should I give them a call?" Illya glanced toward her smiling father's face and gained a mischievous look herself, snickering quietly.

In Britain, Shirou had thought about seeing Rin again quite often. Her name popped into his head whenever he had to remind himself of "Clock Tower etiquette". Now that he was back in Japan, there was a possibility of actually seeing her. A feeling of anxiousness came around, and the memory of what happened when he left clouded his judgement.

He liked Rin of course. She was a beautiful, intelligent woman who was as wise, if not wiser than he was.

But if he let himself fall for her fully, he would be abandoning Sakura. He could see how much the Matou idolized him. He was her last shred of hope in a hellish excuse of a life.

So he couldn't choose either one.

Scratching the back of his neck, Shirou feigned a yawn. "I don't think so. I'm still pretty tired from the flight."

Illya narrowed her eyes and immediately he realized his mistake. "He's lying, he's not tired at all."

Cursing in his own mind, he tried to pass his guilt off with a chuckle. He was already so used to having his face concealed and being able to lie. He briefly considered trying to continue with his lie but quickly realized that Illya would see through it just as easily. "Fine, you got me. But I'd really prefer if it waited until tomorrow."

… … …

… … …

Unfortunately, "tomorrow" came too quickly. Before he knew it, he was being dragged by the hand by Illya, who vehemently stated he needed to see Rin.

Regardless of what he said, the petite albino seemed hell-bent on getting the two together.

Knocking on the door like she meant to break it, the two waited until Aoi gingerly opened it to greet them with a soft, sad smile. "Hello, isn't this a surprise." She looked from Illya to Shirou, smile widening greatly. "Welcome back to Japan, Shirou. How was Britain?"

Blinking in surprise, he remembered that Aoi was a magus herself. "It was very helpful, I met some interesting peo-"

Jumping up, his sister swatted him on the nose before waving a finger at him. "We aren't here for that, remember?" Turning to face Aoi, the girl returned a bright smile. "Sorry Mrs. Tohsaka, but I'm on a mission to lead Shirou to Rin, is she home?"

Beyond Illya's back, Shirou violently shook his head, mouthing "no" in an attempt at getting Aoi to turn them away.

The woman visibly looked from Illya to Shirou and back again before nodding softly. "I believe she's in the study. Just let her know you're here before going down." Stepping aside, the woman motioned for the two to enter and Illya gladly took the offer. The girl paused only once so they could remove their shoes before proceeding further in.

Like she owned the manor itself, Illya confidently strode toward a door nestled within the large staircase leading to the second floor. Knocking on it loudly, Illya cracked the door open and shouted inside. "Rin, I've got a surprise for you!"

There was a strange noise coming from inside, before an incredibly irritated Tohsaka shouted back up. "What are you doing at my house, Illya? I'm a little busy down here."

Shirou briefly thought he heard another voice whisper from the lower level, but with the strange angle and his head clouded with worry, he wasn't too sure.

Illya giggled, opening the door wider. "Well, I've got a surprise for you. Shirou is back, and I've got him here with me."

Clear as day, Shirou heard two separate voices shout his name with varying states of excitement. Suddenly, there was a gasp and Tohsaka's voice returned with panic. "Wait, Sakura you're moving too much!"

Her cry was all the warning gathered before an explosion sounded from within. The force of the unseen blast was enough to shake the entire manor and send a wave of smoke up the dimly lit staircase.

The two girls screamed in near harmony and Shirou couldn't stop instinct from sending his body lunging past Illya. Bounding down the stairs three at a time, he reached the bottom to find two familiar girls seated on their rears. They were covered in soot, and parts of their attire were smouldering or blown away entirely.

Between them was a device Shirou had never seen before. Several glass funnels suspended over a glass orb, linked with flexible tubing that could be adjusted to manipulate the rate of flow. All of this was suspended above a stone tablet with a particularly large crystal which illuminated the room in royal blue light.

At least, that's what he would have seen, if the explosion hadn't destroyed everything. It was only due to how recent the explosion was that he was able to see the completed image in his mind through tracing.

What actually remained was a twisted mess of metal beams used to suspend the earlier craft and a surprising amount of glass littered throughout the entire workshop.

Rin made a growl, rubbing her head as a trickle of blood streamed from the other side where a small piece of glass had embedded itself. A large portion of her clothes had been burnt or torn off and multiple lacerations covered her hands. "I told you this was a delicate process, you have to gently stimulate the essence."

Sakura seemed to be in much better condition, with only the shoulder of her dress missing and no visible wounds. "I'm sorry Rin, I just got excited." Sakura lifted her head but after spotting Shirou, she quickly turned away.

Scowling partly in confusion at the reaction, he decided to treat the injured party first, casually moving toward Rin and kneeling down to her level. "Not even a hello?"

Rin stared in him the eyes for a moment before making a haughty huff and turning away. "Since you distracted Sakura, I should really be blaming you for all this," she looked back at him, face softening somewhat. "But it's nice to see you again, my clueless test subject."

Nodding, he plucked the piece of glass from her head and projected a rag to apply pressure to the wound and soak up the blood. "I'm just surprised you didn't-"

"What's up with the hair?"

"-ask about my hair," he finished, letting out an exasperated breath. Rather than try to explain that an aristocrat in the Clock Tower had her eyes set on him and forced him to get a haircut, he went with the much simpler, "I just decided to get it cut."

"You took my idea and tried to mix alchemy and gem magecraft?" Illya asked softly, plodding down the stairs. "Did it work?"

Rin turned from Illya to glare at Sakura, who had already stood and was in the midst of grabbing a broom to clean up all the glass. "I think so, but I'll need to test it again before I can be sure."

Turning back to Shirou, Rin looked a little more pleased. "I thought you weren't coming back until the end of next week."

"I had to leave early, too dangerous to stay," he summarized, withdrawing his hand to see if her injury was still bleeding.

"You'll have to tell me all about it later. For now, we should get something over with here and now." Slipping her hand under his to keep the rag on her head, the girl stood with his help and caught Sakura's attention.

Seeming to understand, the girl stood beside Rin and sheepishly looked at Shirou's feet. The Tohsaka had gained a blush even before speaking a word, but her voice remained confident as she spoke. "Shirou, Sakura and I have considered our relationship and we've decided as sisters." Rin gripped Sakura's hand, lacing their fingers together and producing an uneasy squeak from the girl.

Looking up at Shirou with a face as red as Rin's shirt, Sakura managed to speak. "We're going to share Senpai so he doesn't have to choose."


Shirou back to Japan and we finally get to see the realization of the agreement the two Tohsaka girls made before everything got complicated. At least he doesn't have to choose one or the other anymore!

I appreciate everyone leaving reviews, you tell me what you like to see and for the things that I can change, (points of view, information being told) I can change them to provide the best experience. (Unfortunately, the plot in my mind isn't going to change, so you're at my mercy there, heh.)

That's all from me, remember to favourite, follow and leave a review, kind or otherwise I'm always eager to see what all of you think!