Fate Stay Night – Unlimited Boob Works
Chapter 5 – "Friends And Enemies"
"This man is a Berserker . . ."
Illya hung her head.
Rin gasped.
"Emiya is . . . a Berserker?" she said, struggling to grasp the thought.
As if to answer her, Kiritsugu turned toward Kotomine and emitted a low, guttural growl.
"Father – " Illya said, straining to hold him back, wincing as the red lines of her magic circuits flickered in her face.
Of them all, only Shiro seemed unconcerned.
"Wait – if Dad's a Berserker, then that means –"
"MASTER !" Saber shouted, tackling him to the ground, and covering him with her body.
She was not a moment too soon, for as they dove, a black dagger sailed over Shiro's head, lodging itself in the trunk of a nearby tree.
"ASSASSIN !"
Turning, they all caught sight of a shadowy black figure as it flitted among the trees.
From the wild look in Saber's green eyes, she seemed only inches away from becoming a Berserker herself. It was only her need to protect Shiro that kept her from going after her prey. Caught between these two impulses, all she could do was press her body against him, and glare murderously in Assassin's direction.
But Kiritsugu had no such constraints. As he closed his hands, a pistol appeared in each of them. Lowering the larger pistol in his left, he fired.
The round struck true. The bullet passed directly through the center of the dark mass, which proceeded to swell, and then erupt, throwing off shadows like a scattering of crows.
For a moment they fluttered, before getting caught up into the trees, swaying among the branches, and then raining down like a torrent of black leaves left over from last winter.
They dove toward Kiritsugu, passing behind him and Illya, where they harried poor Sakura, and then swept over towards Saber and Shiro. Not willing to be surprised a second time, Saber had drawn Excalibur, and used it to hack at their midst. The cloud of shadows parted around the blade, reforming again on the other side with a wild laugh that seemed to ride on the wind.
"Eh – heh – heh – heh !" it called, getting caught up into the trees again, and then rained down on Rin, who threw up her arm to protect herself.
For a moment it seemed she would surely be consumed, for this time there was a flurry of knives mixed in with the leaves, but to oppose them there appeared a pair of crossed swords that seemed to materialize out of the night, along with the red figure who held them.
"Archer! A bit too close! A moment longer, and I'd have been killed!"
"My apologies my Master, but I wanted to see what he would do, and the fact of the matter is that you make excellent bait –"
Rin gasped in exasperation.
"If it's any consolation, you were the only one he seriously attacked, so either he thought you were the most vulnerable, or else that you were the most capable Master here, and therefore posed the greatest threat – that or he simply thought you were cute –"
"That's no consolation at all!"
As they argued, the column of black leaves descended like a tornado, touching down a dozen or so feet opposite them. From the midst of the storm a figure emerged. A dark shadow in the shape of a man, it wore a black leotard, stretched skin tight over a lean yet muscular form. A tattered black skirt was belted around his waist, and on his face, the grinning skull of a death's head mask.
"Assassin", Rin repeated, as the ghostly figure made a small, courtly bow.
"He's inviting us", Archer said, moving to position himself between the two of them.
Looking over his shoulder, Archer's eyes caught Kiritsugu's, who nodded. Shifting slightly, he adjusted his aim so that his field of fire covered both Sakura and Rin, along with Illya who was pressed close behind him.
Archer nodded appreciatively, then lunged.
Shiro stood watching as the two of them fought, amazed by the agility of Assassin's movements. He was a large man – clearly upwards of six feet tall, and though thin in the waist he was very bulky in his arms and shoulders. It seemed impossible that someone so big could be so nimble and quick, but Assassin moved with a dancer's grace, his feet barely seeming to touch the ground, as he and Archer clashed amid the trees.
He was like a matador, with Archer's billowing red coat in place of a cape, and his pair of upturned swords instead of the bull's horns. They clashed once – twice – the ring of the short swords against the long knives echoing amidst the trees. Archer slashed at him, but it was like cutting a shadow – impossible – for while his blades made rents in his black cloak, the figure they shrouded remained untouched.
And all the while the skull mask grinned on, unreadable, its expression fixed.
Archer's face wore a mask of its own.
"A – smile?" Shiro said, gasping at the realization. "He's enjoying this!?"
But then again, of course he would be. Archer was a Servant, called forth from the murky depths of time. It was for this purpose that he had been summoned, and as he watched, Shiro realized that it must be in moments like these that he felt most truly alive.
Archer, for his part, seemed intent on living this moment to its fullest. As Assassin sprang back, he lunged with him, grinning a hellish smile that made the skull mask seem cheerful by comparison. Foregoing his blades, he reached out, and wrapping his fingers around the front of the mask, he dashed Assassin against a nearby tree.
The impact was brutal, making Shiro cringe at the sound. Before he could flee, Archer turned, and slammed him to the ground.
"H – urk!"
A voice gurgled behind the mask as Archer's hand let go, gripping him by the throat as he readied one of his blades. But before he could drive it home, Assassin took advantage of the momentary reprieve, transforming into a black mist that evaporated beneath him, flowing around either side to rematerialize behind, so that he was forced to turn, cutting the air as he leapt back, scattering a shower of black blades.
Still facing him, Assassin leapt backwards, up into the trees, raining down another shower of knives towards Rin, so that Archer was forced to dash to put himself in front of her, batting them away.
Another barrage was loosed at Sakura, who narrowly missed becoming a pin cushion when Rider pulled her back, leaving her Master to stare in horror at the collection of spikes that formed at her feet.
Vaulting to another branch, he switched targets to Shiro, making Saber tackle him again, rolling with him as the daggers buried themselves deeply into the ground where they had just lay, the nearest one lodging just inches from her back.
And then, he caught sight of Illya.
In all of the commotion, her mother's hat had fallen from her head. Without thinking, she bent to reach for it. Looking up, her white skin shone brilliantly in the moonlight, her red eyes wide, with her snowy hair billowing all around her. She made a lovely picture, fitly framed in the clearing between two trees, and it was a target he could not resist.
This proved to be his undoing.
Instead of making any move to parry or dodge, Kiritsugu stepped forward, into the blade, letting it bury itself up to the handguard in his chest.
"FATHER!"
Without flinching, he raised the pistol in his right hand, and squeezed the trigger.
Shiro watched in amazement as the space around his hand and arm began to distort. The cycling of the action became a blur, moving impossibly fast, even for an automatic weapon, as the pistol emptied each of the shots from its hundred round drum in a single instant.
"He's using time magic again –"
As Shiro watched, a hundred tiny holes appeared in Kiritsugu's jacket, his coat – his face – arms – and hands –
Caught in the hail of bullets, Assassin simply disintegrated.
The sudden stop and return to silence was just as jarring as the gunshots had been.
Calmly Kiritsugu shifted the pistol to his other hand. Removing the peculiar round drum from the top that took the place of a more traditional clip or magazine, he put it in his pocket, and replaced it with a fresh one.
Holding his hand out over the ground, he reabsorbed the shell casings that had rained down around his feet. As he did, each of the hundred tiny holes filled itself back in.
This left only the knife. Taking hold of the dagger's handle, he pulled it from his chest. The moment the blade withdrew, without the power of its owner's mana to sustain it, it began to crumble, fading away into a grainy black dust that was carried away on the wind until it disappeared, just as Assassin had done.
A shadow flickered across Illya's face as one of her magic circuits flashed red – only for a moment.
And then the restoration was complete.
"A shadow . . ." Rin said, once the silence had settled. "The real Assassin would never have died so easily. They're probing us . . .
'Well this is just GREAT! Now they know EVERYTHING! And after we were so careful, too . . ."
"Eh – heh – heh – heh –"
At the sound of the laugh behind her, Rin's blood ran cold.
Whirling, she caught sight of a black shadowy figure perched atop one of the nearby tombs.
"Don't be so upset, little lady. My Master knew all of this already. Mine was a different errand this night. But when I saw all of you gathered here together, I couldn't resist stopping by to give my regards –"
Archer moved to put himself between the two of them, pushing Rin behind him as he threatened Assassin with his outstretched blade. But Kotomine dismissed him with a wave.
"And have you also come here seeking my protection?" he asked.
At his question, Assassin turned his head to the side inquisitively, after the manner of a curious bird.
"Eh . . ?
The grinning skull mask remained as unreadable and expressionless as ever.
"As the Overseer of the Holy Grail War, I had not thought to participate. But there is still one Servant left. Your Master no doubt knows this, too –"
And here Kotomine rolled up his sleeve to reveal an assortment of Stigmata for different Command Seals glowing red along his arm.
"Don't make me rethink my decision."
"Heh – heh."
At this, Assassin turned, and leapt off of the tomb stone. Two quick steps brought him to the churchyard wall. A third, and he bounded over, then leapt away, into the night.
"Come, we'd best be getting indoors. He's gone for now, but there's no telling when he might come back. Not to mention what else might be lurking out here in the dark.
'The Annex building isn't far. From here, it's a shorter walk than going back to the main Church, and under the circumstances, I think it behooves us to be brief."
Shiro found it telling that the newer construction was closer to the heretics' part of the cemetery, but out of politeness he decided it best not to say anything about it. The Church basement was of a walkout style, with a pair of double doors that opened onto a concrete patio that was littered with scattered leaves. Some of them were still wet from melted snow, and stuck to the ground, making it clear that it had not been swept in a while.
On either side, a lattice work of formed concrete made a kind of screen for the entryway that must have once been very stylish, but now gave a rather dim view of the past's aging ideas of modernity.
As Kirei opened the doors, he was struck by a sudden thought, and the thought quickly turned to worry.
"But what about Saber –"
Kotomine held up his hand, and showed a slip of white paper between his fingers.
"It may not be much, but suffer ye thus far. Consider this an indulgence."
Saber looked at Shiro questioningly, her luminous green eyes reminding him of just how uncomfortable he was at times with the title of "Master." She clearly deferred to him in matters like these – even if he felt like he ought to be the one deferring to her. Either way, a decision needed to be made, so he made one.
"Come on, Saber."
At his words, she picked up her booted foot, and with all the sheepishness of a vampire being invited to Sunday School, stepped over the threshold.
Apparently Kotomine's indulgence must have worked, for her foot met the floor on the other side without any ill effect coming to her or the place. For the moment, at least, they'd avoided an Apocalypse.
"Hmph", Rin mused. "I suppose he is a real priest after all."
Shiro busied himself with looking around the place.
There was a multipurpose room off to the left, with a cafeteria equipped with very low tables, and a kitchen toward the back. The floor was of grey linoleum, with light blue aquamarine walls, and formica countertops. Several classrooms were on either side of the hall, along with a nurse's office and a kind of infirmary with two beds, a medicine cabinet, and a few very rudimentary pieces of medical equipment.
On the whole, it all seemed very ordinary, and decidedly unmysterious.
"Is something the matter?" Kotomine asked.
"No", Shiro said, not wanting to sound rude. "I guess I just didn't know what to expect . . ."
"Oh? And what sort of thing DID you expect?"
"I don't know – maybe a crypt or some catacombs, or a tomb – or – or something?"
Kirei laughed.
"And do you have dead people in YOUR basement?"
Sakura and Illya looked down and to the side, each facing in opposite directions.
"Well, no, but –"
"Ha – ha – ha – ha – It's okay, boy. It's true that the early Church did have the habit of making altars out of Saints' graves. But that would be more appropriate for a Cathedral, or a Basilica, rather than a humble little Church here in Fuyuki. Though we do have a Reliquary in the old Church building, if you're interested in that kind of thing."
Rin frowned at Shiro for being so dense, while Illya took advantage of the distraction to play in one of the classrooms.
"Whee –" she shouted, holding her arms out to her sides while spinning around on one foot.
Rin and Shiro exchanged a look, regarding her doubtfully, while Kotomine unlocked a set of double doors that opened into a reception room at the other end of the hall.
"Well then, I suppose we'd better be getting down to business . . ."
The room on the other side was large, being furnished with a long table with chairs along either side and at each end. It was carpeted in the same light blue aquamarine color they'd seen in the cafeteria. A painting of The Last Supper hung upon the wall, depicting the Messiah at a long table not unlike this one, surrounded by the Apostles, along with Judas, the Traitor. Seeing the title made Shiro uneasy, and he wondered if this would be the last gathering he'd ever attend.
"Now then, I suppose we'd best be getting down to business", Kirei repeated.
"Agreed", Rin said, stalking toward the unsuspecting Illya.
Without warning, she seized her hat, and struck her over the head with it.
"Ouch! Rin – what the hell are you –"
"That's MY line!" Rin shouted. "And I'd very much like to hear your answer! First you go and break our pact, and summon a Servant! And then you lie about it and let us believe that he's an Assassin when the whole time you knew he was really a Berserker!"
"I didn't lie . . ." Illya said, her head still smarting as they took their places around the table. Saber sat at one end, while Kirei sat at the other. Shiro sat in the middle, between Sakura and Rin, with Illya hiding behind him for protection. "I just let you think what you wanted to . . ."
"Oh! I stand corrected. And is there ANYTHING ELSE that you've failed to mention !?"
Illya closed her eyes and smiled smugly, deciding that the kiss she'd stolen from Shiro in his sleep, and the times she'd "accidentally" let him walk in on her while she was changing were, for their present purposes at least, irrelevant.
". . . No."
Rin sighed.
"Well then, I guess we have no choice but to believe you."
"Ow . . ." Illya said under her breath. "That really did hurt."
Kirei folded his hands.
"I'm curious – what exactly did you mean – about your pact?"
Rin sighed again.
"That was Shiro's idea. He came up with a plan to form a kind of trifecta, with Illya, Sakura, and myself –"
"That would be a tetrarchy, but go on."
Rin scowled.
"The idea was to try to identify the other Masters, and talk them into some sort of truce – "
"To prevent the fighting", Shiro explained.
"I see. So that was your plan. A noble effort, but it would never work. The Grail would simply summon other Masters, or else find some way to make you fight among yourselves. But I commend you, none the less."
"I thought the Holy Grail could only appear once every fifty years. But last time it was ten – and now it's been only one, and yet already it's appeared again."
"Ah, so you've noticed."
For a moment, Kirei and Shiro's eyes met.
"What is it – the Grail?"
"There are a number of holy relics whose existence can be inferred, and in some cases even verified. We know, for example, of the Lance of Longinus – the so called Spear of Destiny – along with the Ark of the Covenant, the Mandillion of Odessa, and the Shroud of Turin.
'In the case of the Grail, things are less certain. We know, for example, that there was a Last Supper, and that a cup was used, therefore that cup must exist, but as to its whereabouts, the provenance is unsure. We can be certain, however, that the holy grail of Fuyuki City is not the Cup of Christ."
"Hmph!" Rin scoffed. "How can a so-called priest know so much about a pagan object?"
"All things are pure unto the pure –"
"YOU of all people would DARE to speak of purity? The only kind of purity YOU have is pure evil!"
"Perhaps, but then, the Lord said, 'I would that you were either hot or cold.' It is the lukewarm that he spews out of his mouth."
Saber looked at him incredulously. Rin smirked.
"It would seem the devil really can quote Scripture for his own purposes."
"Indeed. But then, that's the beauty of it all. The Devil, in the end, is his Master's devil", he said, looking directly into Saber's green eyes.
'And in the court of kings, only madmen and fools are permitted to speak the truth. And a jester, though a jester, is still the king's fool, after all", he finished, with a look toward Shiro.
"Why you –"
"Let it go, Saber."
Saber growled. At Kirei's insult, she'd half risen from her seat, but on hearing Shiro's words, she sat back down.
"If it isn't the Cup of Christ, then what is it?"
"The Mages' Association would have you believe that the Holy Grail is actually a ritual – one that they devised, and control. The Grail itself is merely a vessel, a receptacle for magic power. Seven Servants are summoned, answering the call of seven Masters.
'Those Servants fight, and one by one are destroyed and consumed. Their magical power then flows into the Grail, until it is full. When the final Servant merges with the Grail, enough power is released to tear a hole in the very fabric of existence, revealing a pathway to The Root – the origin of all things. It's a kind of shortcut to Enlightenment, if you will – a so called Stairway To Heaven.
'There are problems with this theory, too. For one thing, there's the matter of chronology. This Sixth Holy Grail War – if these events can truly be called a Grail War – is happening now. The fifth war, as you note, took place ten years earlier. Before that, the intervals between previous Grail Wars were much longer, happening every fifty years or so. Even so, that's not quite two centuries. That would make the Grail almost two hundred years old, but – "
Kirei's voice trailed off. Saber had risen from her chair.
" – It happened in my time, too . . ."
They all turned at Saber's words.
"It appeared once in my Court as well – at the Round Table in Camelot – a beautiful chalice that promised us miracles in our time of need."
"There is considerable debate over when and if King Arthur actually lived. As a Heroic Spirit, you are the amalgamation of all the memories of your own life, as well as all of the myths and legends that have grown up around you.
'But even allowing for the vagaries of the Gregorian Calendar and a certain amount of poetic license, the most recent estimate would still be around a thousand years ago, and some sources suggest even that is five hundred years out of date. Either way, at best this puts the appearance of Camelot's Grail some eight hundred years too soon."
"So what does that mean?" Shiro asked.
"It means that the true identity of the Holy Grail of Fuyuki City remains a mystery. But knowing that may or may not be of assistance."
Rin sighed.
"Well that doesn't help us at all! I was hoping you could at least tell us SOMETHING of use. What about Shiro's father?"
"Mmm, yes. You're going to have some problems with his class. As an Assassin, Emiya was known as the Mage Killer. He was a master of strategy and tactics. He isn't really suited to being a Berserker.
'I must admit, I'm rather disappointed. Kiritsugu was the one who defeated me in the Fourth Holy Grail War. I had rather hoped to cross swords with him again. He was my greatest enemy . . ."
Something in the way Kotomine spoke gave Shiro pause.
"You – really don't like Assassins, do you?"
"I must admit, I do find them distasteful – "
"Hmph! YOU'RE one to talk", Rin snorted. "A priest who hides daggers in his robes . . ."
"The art of assassination has long been an instrument in mankind's toolkit. And there are those who would argue that it is a much cleaner, and more merciful way to prosecute a war than sending two armies of men off to their deaths.
'I guess if I had to put a word to it, I would say that it's a matter of Sovereignty."
"Sovereignty?" Shiro asked.
"Mmm, Saber knows."
Shiro turned to look at her questioningly, but Saber turned away. The thought of agreeing with Kotomine disgusted her, but his words were true.
Kirei explained.
"One King may order the death of another King. At times, my Order has received commands from the Vatican to take certain actions to prevent what could only be described as a sheer catastrophe. And your father from time to time undertook certain assignments at the request of the Mages Association to prevent things within the magical world from spilling over into disaster for the rest of mankind.
'But the Hasan are something else. They answer to no earthly power, but rather have taken it upon themselves to decide who will live and die. But that being said, you should know that as the Overseer of the Grail War, it is not for me to take sides. If Assassin's Master were to come to me seeking aid, I would be obligated to assist him the same as I would to assist you."
"You know who it is, don't you?" Shiro said. "Assassin's Master?"
"Of course I do. As the Overseer of the Grail War, it is my business to know."
Shiro frowned.
"Aren't you going to ask me, boy?"
"If I asked you, you wouldn't tell me."
"Of course not. And neither will I let you go. But I do have one question for you. You said Illya was injured during the summoning?"
"Yes. When Dad was first summoned, he wasn't himself. He went ber – it took a few minutes to get him under control. During that time, he fought with us, and one of the shots he fired accidentally struck Illya."
"Rin said you were able to heal her?"
"Yes. I retraced her magic circuits – there was no wound where the bullet hit, but her magic circuits were all a mess –"
At this, a sudden light came into Kotomine's eyes.
"An Origin Round . . ."
"What's that?"
"The power of binding and severing – it was Kiritsugu's specialty. To a regular human, it's just an ordinary bullet – deadly enough – but to a magic user, it's especially devastating. It destroys the magic circuits – a Mage hit with an Origin Round might never be able to use magic again. But you said there was no wound?"
"No, nothing – no blood – no visible wound of any kind. Just – blackness . . ."
"It must have been a burst of magical energy. It's very possible that this is Kiritsugu's Noble Phantasm. But you were able to retrace her magic circuits?"
"Well – mostly . . ."
"Did it work?"
"You sure do ask a lot of questions."
"As the Overseer of the Grail War, one of my duties is to attend to her wellbeing. If she's too injured to use magic, I'll take her in until the end of the war to ensure her safety – "
"THE HELL YOU WILL!"
Kotomine chuckled at his outburst.
"So then – did it work? Your little operation – was it successful?"
". . . It wasn't perfect. Before, I would say her body was about seventy percent magic circuits. Now, it's about sixty-five."
"Ho – ho – ho! Even without your intervention, that girl would still have more magic circuits than you and I combined. Still, I applaud your efforts."
Rin sighed again.
"Well this is just great. We have a strong Servant who's handicapped by her bumbling Master, and a Master who's strong enough to use any Servant, but she can't use her own Servant because of his class. This isn't looking good . . ."
Kotomine chuckled.
"I think you still have a few advantages."
"Fine. Whatever. Come on Shiro, we'd best be going. The night's nearly over, and it will be getting light soon."
"Why did you help me", Shiro asked, as Kotomine showed them to the hall. "The son of a former enemy?"
"Why, my son, have you not read that we are to love our enemies?"
"You honestly expect me to believe that?"
"Think for a moment. Why is it that you want to win the Holy Grail War?"
"Well, I . . ."
"Is it not to protect your friends?"
"Of course!"
"And who then are your friends?"
"Well, Illya, Sakura, Tohsaka –"
"You're wrong. These are your enemies."
"But – "
Shiro moved to speak, but Kotomine cut him off again.
"You fought with them during the previous Grail War. The other Masters – you tried to defeat each other – even tried to kill one another –"
"Hmph!" Rin said, folding her arms. "If I had seriously tried to kill Shiro, he would already be dead!"
"- After all that you've been through, they are dearer to you, and they understand you in a way that is better than any of your so-called 'friends' ever could.
'So it is with me. There is no other person on this earth, living or dead, who could understand the position I am in better than Kiritsugu Emiya. I should very much have liked to have had a conversation with him. But instead, I will have to settle for speaking with his son."
Shiro looked at Kirei wonderingly as he unlocked the door.
"Do you suppose that he's still out there?"
For an answer, Kotomine reached up and caught a dagger by the handle, stopping its blade just inches from his face. He slashed right then left, then a little lower, right then left again, each time parrying another knife at the four corners of a box, at what the old fencing masters would call quarte and sixte, then septime and octave – the whole thing was done as neatly as an exercise. The black knives fell to the ground, skittering to a stop as harmlessly as the old leaves. Lastly, he took the knife he'd caught, and threw it with considerable force, so that its blade lodged deeply in the earth, in the shadow of the shadow that sat perched on the Churchyard gate.
"It's almost morning", he said cheerfully, ignoring the assassination attempt. "Time for you to go. After all, isn't that what shadows do in the light of day? They disappear – along with all of the other dreams and nightmares . . ."
"Eh – heh – heh"
The black wraith perched on the gate tilted its head.
The skull mask smiled.
And then it turned, and leapt away.
Just then, the dawn streamed in, transforming the nighttime landscape with its yellow light. The effect was beautiful, but it made Shiro wince, still accustomed as he was to the unlit basement.
"You shouldn't have any more problems", Kotomine said, still watching the place where the shadow had disappeared. "At least, not this morning. And besides, you've got your Servants with you."
Shiro nodded, then waited as Rin, Sakura, and Illya made their way out, before following after.
"Why are you helping him?" a voice asked as Kotomine stood watching, calling out to him from the shadowy recess within.
"Think about it – " Kirei answered. "The Holy Grail of Fuyuki City has appeared for what – about two hundred years? That's really not that long a time, even by the lives of men. It makes what? Six? Maybe seven generations.
'But what that boy is trying to do – he doesn't mean to fight the Servants – or even the other Masters. He intends to declare war on the Grail itself. A foolish undertaking, to be sure. But still, it endears him to me somehow."
"Shiro was absent today . . ."
Issei glanced at the empty desk, before making his way to the Student Council staffroom.
"And come to think of it, so was Rin Tohsaka."
The thought of Rin sitting at her desk in her tan school uniform, kicking her feet up and down in her white indoor slippers made him frown, and he wondered what evil power she must possess that she was able to ruin his mood equally well with both her presence and absence.
"I hope nothing's amiss . . ."
Then again, it was January, and bitterly cold. Flu season was in full force, and there was also a nasty cold going around, so several other students were also absent.
"Maybe I'm reading too much into things", he thought, putting his head down on the staffroom table as he tried to draw up enough energy to take an interest in his bento.
It was supposed to have been his lunch. But there were questions from several of the academic clubs, as well as the athletic committee, planning for the Fuyuki festival, and an errand or two to the teachers' lounge. Things were so busy, without Shiro stopping by, he had totally forgotten about lunch, until it was over.
"Hah – I get on Shiro's case, but in the end, I'm just as bad as he is."
It was true that Shiro spent what Issei considered an inordinate amount of time helping others, but in all honesty, he himself wasn't all that different.
Issei's day started early, helping his father with the temple. When he left for school, he got there early to make sure that there was time for any Student Council business, then spent most of the day on his studies. This was as much for the benefit of the class as for his own grades. As the Student Council President, he of course had to also be a model student. Various student and teacher questions would come up throughout the day, mixed in between and around his classes. Working through lunch was not unusual.
After school, there was typically at least another hour of things to do, and then it was home, where the rest of the evening would be spent on chores and homework. In the end, he spent very little if any time on himself.
Add to that all of his recent nocturnal activities, and the strain was beginning to get to him.
"Hahh . . ." Issei sighed again, looking up at his bento. He knew he ought to eat something, but he was so tired, he wasn't sure his mouth would even move.
He had nearly dozed off when he was disturbed by the sound of the door sliding open behind him.
"Ah, Emiya, I –" he started to say without thinking.
Seeing the purple haired figure in the doorway, he stopped short.
"Matou-san, is there something I can help you with?"
"Issei, there's something I'd like to speak with you about."
"What is it, Shinji?"
"It's about that mark on your left hand . . ."
"The . . . Holy Grail War . . ." Issei said when Shinji was done speaking.
"Yes. I fought in the last one – and I almost won, too. But there were some problems with my Servant. This time, Sakura's been chosen to participate – "
"Your little sister!?"
"Yes. I'm worried about her, as any brother would be –"
"I can't believe that Sakura – does Shiro know about any of this?"
"Well, there's more. You see, Shiro's a Master too . . ."
All the way home, Issei's head swam.
"Shiro's a Master . . ."
"Yes, along with Rin Tohsaka –"
"Tohsaka!"
"Yes. You could say she's actually something of a ringleader of sorts. The whole thing is run by the different Mage families. She's the one that got Shiro involved . . ."
Issei sat back in his chair. The whole thing was even worse than he'd thought.
"She really IS evil . . ."
Shinji nodded sadly.
"You said that the whole thing was hereditary – I don't think I'm part of one of the Mage families. I know most of the Ryudo family lore, and I've never heard anything like this."
Shinji shook his head.
"I don't really know. But my best guess is that it has something to do with the fact that Souichiro Sensei was also a Master. That, and the energy around the temple. Normally, something like that can't be passed on. But I don't think the last war ended properly. Normally there's a long time between wars. I think something went wrong with this one."
"And you said that the person who wins the War gets to make a wish?"
"That's right – both the Master and the Servant get a wish. It can be anything – anything they want. Has your Servant told you what her wish is?"
"No, she never said anything about it."
Shinji frowned.
"You should be careful. Sometimes a Master and a Servant's wishes don't agree or complement one another very well. I'm sure that if Shiro won the war, he would wish for something noble, and selfless –"
"No doubt."
"And if Sakura somehow managed to win, she'd probably wish for something silly, but harmless. But you can imagine, if someone like Tohsaka were to win the Grail –"
Issei shuddered.
"It would be a disaster."
Shinji put his hand on Issei's shoulder.
"Look, I don't really care about the Grail myself – I just want to protect my little sister – and my friends . . ."
Issei looked at Shinji's hand, then followed the line of his arm, up to his gently smiling face.
"When did Shinji get to be so kind hearted . . ?" he wondered.
Suddenly the events of the last few years all made sense.
"No wonder he became so distant! To think, all this time he was carrying such a burden, and I didn't even notice – he and Shiro both . . ."
"If we band together now, there's still time to stop her. I don't have a Servant, but I did fight in the last war. If we were to join forces –"
"I – don't know . . . This is all so sudden. Please – give me some time to think."
So he had said. But all the way home, his thoughts had been a blur, like the flurry of snowflakes that danced all round him. In the end, thinking had been the last thing he could do.
They were still swirling as he made his way up the temple steps, where Caster came into view. Seeing her, he recalled Shinji's words, and wondered if he ought to ask her about them.
"Why do you look at me so crossly, boy?" she said, seeing his sullen expression.
'Behold, the first fruits of your labors –"
And here she stretched out her arm. The staff in her hand began to glow.
A magic circle appeared in the grass, its blue light illuminating the snowflakes as they came wafting down. Every so often one of them would get caught in its perimeter, at which point it would evaporate instantly, becoming a little puff of steam.
"There, that should be enough power."
Next, she took out a strangely shaped knife, which she procured from somewhere beneath her robe.
"Do you know what this is, boy?"
Issei stared at the strangely shaped blade that wove sinuously back and forth – like the curves of a woman's body, beautiful and mysterious.
But of course he didn't know.
"It's a Noble Phantasm", she explained. "This one is called 'Rule Breaker' . . ."
And with a flick of her wrist, she turned the dagger in her hand, and plunged it into her side.
Issei lunged forward to stop her, but before he could reach her, she pulled it out.
"Ahh!"
She gasped as the blade withdrew, flinging the blood from its tip so that it landed squarely in the circle's midst. At once the blue light deepened, glowing fiercely until it became almost blinding. Issei threw up his arm to shield himself, the air around them crackling with the parting of space and time. And then, once more, the ritual was complete.
"AW, WHY THE HELL – "
"DID IT HAVE TO BE – "
"YOU ! ?"
Caster and the strange man shouted, finishing together in unison.
Issei stared at the newly summoned Servant. He was dressed in a close fitting blue leotard that hugged his muscular form. His hair was wild and dark, and a pair of tribal earrings hung pendant from the lobes of his ears, which only added to his barbarous appearance. In his hand he carried a red spear, decorated with an ornate scrollwork in the shape of vines that wrapped around its grip.
Evidently he and Caster knew each other.
"Sigh . . . I suppose that's what I get for waiting so long. All of the best Servants were taken. In the end, all that was left was you."
"Me!? A Servant to you!?"
"You answered my summons, didn't you?"
"And what in the HELL makes you think I'll serve YOU?"
"Because I'm your Master", she said smugly, tugging down her black glove to reveal the red mark on her left hand.
"And I'm Joan of Arc!"
"The hell you are!"
"My point exactly! I'll never serve you!"
"You will!"
"I won't!"
"I'll use a Command Seal – "
"I've resisted a Master with a Command Seal before."
"Why you cheeky Servant – "
"YOU'RE one to talk –"
Lancer folded his arms obstinately.
Caster sighed.
"Fine – I'll give you beer – "
"SOLD! Wait, I want whiskey – "
"Too bad! You've already agreed. And besides, I can't have you drinking whisky on the job – you'd get sloppy."
"Argh . . . I suppose you're right. Wait a minute – something's off – "
"What do you mean?"
"I remember you. An' I remember that I don't LIKE you – "
"And I don't like you either – "
"But Servants aren't supposed to remember each other from one war to the next."
"I'm certain I would find you equally distasteful in ANY time or place – with or without the memories of my past life – but you're right. There's something off about this Holy Grail War –"
"Holy Grail War . . ?" Issei said, remembering Shinji's words.
"No, boy, the World Cup – wait – you mean you don't know?"
"He doesn't know – "
"Know what?"
"You mean you haven't told him!?"
"Told him what?"
"Told me what!?"
"About the War – us Servants – ANYTHING!?"
"NO ONE HAS TOLD ME ANYTHING!"
Issei shouted, making Lancer and Caster both pause and stare.
"No one has told me anything – about this war, or Servants or Masters or the Grail or – or ANYTHING! All I know is that one day I hear a strange rattling noise and when I go to look I find you in my brother's room. I mean – what even are you? A ghost? A demon? Some sort of witch – "
At the word 'witch', Caster closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.
Lancer winced.
"My dear boy –" she said, in a very measured, even tone. "There are only a small handful of men who have made the mistake of calling me that once . . ."
And here she held up the curved knife and turned it so that its edge glinted fiercely in the moonlight.
"No one has ever lived to say it twice."
Issei gulped.
"Sorceress is a good word . . ." she said, stalking slowly towards him.
"Wizard – Wise Woman – Seer – these are all acceptable choices . . ."
Issei watched the tip of the knife glitter as she gestured like a Maestro with a wand.
"Enchantress of Incomparable Beauty – now THAT has a nice ring to it . . ." she said, putting the fingers of one hand to her chin thoughtfully.
"I'm going to make an exception – just this once, and let the matter go – on the grounds of your ignorance and inexperience –" she said, pointing suddenly, so the dagger's tip was just beneath his chin.
"DON'T ever do it again."
Issei nodded carefully, still keenly aware of the dagger's proximity to his neck.
"I'd ixnay on the itchway if I was you", Lancer said, once she'd withdrawn – as if any additional clarification was needed.
"Well, there you go boy – that about does it . . ."
Lancer said when he had finished explaining the general rules of the Holy Grail War.
Issei sat on the edge of a nearby wall, still rubbing his throat occasionally to reassure himself that it had not been cut. Caster was standing a little ways off, her back turned to them, her attention absorbed in some piece of magical machinery.
"And now, my Master's Master, if you'd so kindly take one of those there Command Seals I told you about, and order Miss Enchantress of Incomparable Beauty here to stop orderin' ME around, I would be most grateful – "
"Don't you go getting him involved in any of your nonsense!" Caster said sharply, turning around to betray that in spite of her best efforts to appear to be ignoring them, she had in fact been listening.
"Don't listen to him, Issei. For all his bravado, at the end of the day he's just a little man with a sharp stick!"
"No look 'ere you! I've had just about enough of your spells an' bitchcraft!"
"My spells and – Why I – I ought to turn YOU into a frog!"
"Then I'd be a little FROG with a sharp stick, and a lot of good THAT would be. No, no – I'll do as you say, and guard your doors and windows – "
"The gate! Your task is to guard the gate! Argh – Kojiro was better than this – and he was based on a legend that didn't even exist! I hope your little stick breaks!"
"An' I hope YOU end up ridin a Kelpie bareback – and NAKED – in the middle of January – and I hope he dunks you in a river, too!"
Caster's mouth fell open, clearly at a loss for words. Lancer snickered triumphantly.
"That does it – I'm using a Command Seal –"
"Wait – " Issei said, desperate to break up the impending altercation.
"What is it?"
"Lancer said that the Master and Servant who win the war each get a wish."
"Yes, and?"
"Well, I thought I ought to know what your wish is – as your Master – " Issei said, tripping over the words.
"That's easy. I'll wish to bring Souichiro back –"
And here she reached to flip up her hood.
Or she would have. But Issei stopped her.
"Wait – " he said, catching her hand.
"I did NOT give you permission to touch me –"
"That's what I want – for my part. I want to see you without your veil. That will be my wish."
"You haven't won yet", Caster said, and she moved to pull her arm away, but Issei held her gloved hand tightly in his, mesmerized by the feel of her velvet fingers.
"AH, so THAT's how it is . . ." Lancer chuckled.
Caster frowned, then curled her lips in a mischievous smile.
"Suppose I humor you, and give you an advance. On your wish. Since you're going to win – After all, you've got me on your side, so how could it possibly be otherwise?"
"Ah ha!" Lancer jeered.
"But you see, there are limits to even my magic power. A Servant relies on her Master for the magic energy to sustain their form. It's easier for me remain as mist – a kind of shrouded, incorporeal haze. I don't have the power to remain like this all of the time – at least not yet.
'So I'll offer you a choice. Either you can see me like this, and to the rest of the world I'll be a phantom, and wear my veil – or else the world can see me as I really am, and I will wear my veil when I'm with you. Which would you prefer?"
"Eh . . ."
Issei recoiled as he thought it over. He tried turning to Lancer for help, but Lancer's face had suddenly become expressionless, his features as fixed as stone.
"I couldn't possibly – "
"But you have to – "
"But I – "
"Choose."
"Then – then I choose you. I choose to keep you for myself."
"Hmph!"
Caster withdrew her hand from his grasp, and flipped up her hood.
Issei stared at his empty palm, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
"It was a test, boy." Lancer explained. "And you failed. What a woman really wants – "
"Is her own way", Caster finished for him. And with a flick of her wrist, she tossed him a golden coin.
"Consider it an advance. On your payment. As my Servant."
Lancer studied the gold piece curiously.
"It's enchanted. To any one you give it to, it will magically appear to be his own currency, from his own time and place. That'll buy you a beer anywhere – regardless of when or where you happen to get summoned to."
Lancer held up the coin in salute.
"Thank ye kindly Master!"
Caster smiled in amusement as she adjusted her hood. But she did not draw her veil.
"Well then, I s'pose I'll take my leave."
And so with an extra swagger in his step, and an extra gold coin in his pocket, he hefted his spear, and rested it on his shoulder, then started off down the path that led to the temple steps. He'd just drawn even with Issei, and paused to flash him a grin, when he suddenly paused.
"Wait a minute – "
"What is it now!?" Caster asked, more than a little annoyed as she looked up from the magical machine whose output she was adjusting.
"I've just remembered – "
"Remembered what?"
"All this time – I thought he looked familiar – but now I know. You're one of Shiro's friends, aren't you?"
"Wait – you mean YOU know Shiro Emiya?"
"Aye – fought with 'im I did – in the last Grail War. I killed 'im once – and tried to make it twice – and I'd kill him again now, too –"
Issei recoiled in horror at the strangeness of his words.
"It's nothing personal – I actually rather like the lad. Got spunk to 'im, he does. That's just how things are, in these here Holy Grail Wars. And you'd best be ready too – ready to do what needs to be done, when the time comes – "
"Enough!" Caster shouted, seeing the effect his words were having on her Master. "Off with you already!"
"Fine! I never did much like guard duty – it's too boring. But at least it's an easy job." And at this he began to whistle. "Ho – ho – ho, off to the wall I go! Such light work for a florin!"
Caster stood with her hands on her hips as she watched him depart, then turned back to Issei, who was still visibly shaken.
"Don't read too much into what Lancer says. I figured something like this might happen – after all, you're not like Souichiro, who would let me get away with anything."
"My – brother . . ?"
Caster put her hands on his shoulders, but Issei wouldn't look at her. Frowning, she took his face in her hands, and turned it until his eyes met hers. He was surprised to see how warm they were, and full of genuine concern.
"Listen – when the time comes, I can make the Grail appear – with or without the other Servants and Masters. But for now, I think this is enough for one night. Off to bed with you. I can't have you getting sick. Or else what kind of Servant would I be?"
Issei didn't really remember getting ready for bed, but it must have happened, for somehow he found himself standing in his room, wearing his pajamas.
He looked down at the object in his hand. It was a cell phone – not the latest model, but new enough not to be old, and certainly far from obsolete, but it seemed foreign now, as if this strange new world of spells and rituals had no time or place for modern convenience.
The number was old. Would it still work?
There was one way to find out.
He pressed send, and listened to the sound of the digital ringtone.
"It's late", he thought. "Probably no one will –"
Before he could finish the thought, he heard a click, and then the sound of a once familiar voice.
"Matou-san? Sorry it's so late, I –"
"Issei – is everything all right?"
"Yes. Shinji – I think we need to talk . . ."