Fate Stay Night – Unlimited Boob Works

Chapter 7 – "A Butterfly's Effect"

"Is that some sort of – compass?"

Issei asked as Shinji opened a small wooden box he'd taken from his bag.

"You've got a good eye", Shinji beamed good naturedly. "It's a magic artifact. I borrowed it from my Grandfather. It shows sources of magical energy. If a Master or their Servant is nearby, this should pinpoint their location."

Issei watched with interest as Shinji set the compass up, taking the needle and attaching it to the dial.

"That seems like the sort of thing she would like . . ." he said wistfully, remembering his argument with Caster.

"What's that?"

"Oh, nothing . . ." Issei answered, watching as Shinji poured in a vial of blue liquid that seemed to be the source compass' power.

"Whoa!" Shinji exclaimed.

Almost immediately the needle began to move.

"Is that unusual?" Issei asked, confused by his friend's perplexity.

"Usually it takes a while to pick anything up. For it to start working so quickly, either the source is very nearby, or the amount of magical energy must be enormous!"

Issei watched as the compass needle turned steadily, moving towards him, then past, settling at a point off to his left.

Shinji chuckled self-assuredly.

"Maybe this is going to be easier than I thought."

Sakura surveyed the apartment complex from a safe distance. The building was rather nice – nothing fancy, but decent enough, and in a good neighborhood. The end of it faced a small plot of common ground, flanked on each corner by a group of evergreen trees whose leaves had made a rich orange carpet. Off to the left was a parking lot, and a large dumpster. Together with the trees a small section of privacy fence did its best to hide this bit of necessary ugliness.

The building itself was covered with plastic siding in a neutral color, either grey or almond – in the dim light Sakura couldn't say just which. Each unit had its own small balcony, fitted with a pair of sliding doors that lead inside. The unit that they were interested in was on the third floor, but that of course was nothing for Rider.

Putting up her hand, she let forth one of her chains, bringing them up and over the railing, landing so lightly that they scarcely made a sound.

Sakura peered in through the sliding glass doors. They were fitted with a set of vertical blinds that were half drawn, and through them she could see the interior of the room beyond. Its contents were quite a mess. Laundry carpeted the floor, most of it dirty, while every available surface was littered with the remains of some past meal. There were empty noodle cups, used chopsticks, takeout bags and boxes, and Styrofoam trays, along with an entire cabinet's worth of dirty plates, bowls, knives, forks, and spoons.

Bags of trash were lined up alongside a computer desk. The first few of them were neatly stacked, hinting at some original intent of order, but they had long since tumbled over into the madness of chaos.

A collection of objects at the back of the room suggested that things were not always so.

There was a rack that held several bows. Most of them were out in the open, but the one at the top lay slumbering in a black bag whose tied off end suggested that its contents were especially fine. Along with them was a collection of arrows, feathers for their fletchings, and spare strings, as well as chest protectors, and gloves to protect the hand.

A small bookcase held a collection of trophies, plaques, and medals, along with a ceremonial arrow head of the kind one sees at the dedication of a shrine. One of the shelves was devoted entirely to pictures, most of them of a young girl. She had long, flowing brown hair, and a radiant smile. In one of them she was holding a bow at full draw, very stern and serious looking, while another was made comical by the contrast between the traditional lines of her kyudo uniform and the broad grin she was flashing as she held up two fingers in the victory sign. There were team photos that showed a progression through middle school, and then to high school, with various meets and competition events, while one or two had nothing to do with the sport at all, but seemed to be taken from some sort of school trip to a very mountainous looking area. In all of them she looked happy – so very happy.

The subject of the photos was in the middle of the room. She was sitting on a computer chair with her legs drawn up, hugged against her chest, and her chin buried in her knees. Her brown hair, which had once been so beautiful beneath her bandanna, hung down on either side of her face, plastered to her cheeks in a greasy mess.

Her only clothes were a t-shirt and a pair of underwear, neither of which looked like they had been washed in a long time. The sole source of illumination in the dark room came from the computer monitor, whose sickly light only served to make her pale skin that much more unhealthy looking.

Sakura tried the door. She'd considered having Rider pick the lock, or else use her magic to put everyone in the unit, or possibly the entire building, into a deep sleep, but in the end, none of that proved necessary. The door was open.

The glass panel slid back with a whoosh. Sakura watched as Rider slipped in first, then stepped in after her. She moved to shut the door, but at once thought better of it. The whole room was filled with an overpowering stench – a mix of spiced sweat and decay so thick that they seemed to bathe in it. Leaving the door cracked, Sakura watched as its wafting breeze stirred up a small tornado of dust from a nearby shelf as the thick miasma mixed with the fresher air.

From the inside, she had an even greater view of the full extent of the disaster. The bed, which was pushed into one corner, was also covered in heaps of laundry in various stages of dirtiness. They ran along the wall, down to the foot, where they spilled over onto the floor. Only a small section near the edge was exposed, the blanket turned back to make what looked more like a nest for a wild animal than a place where a human might lay. Sakura made her way across the floor, careful not to step on one of the pairs of dirty underwear – though truth be told in the past she had stepped on much worse.

At first, given the smell, she had seriously considered the possibility that the room's owner might be dead. But as she approached, the girl turned to look at her. For a moment, Sakura's eyes found a sense of kinship as they were greeted by a stare as vacant and hollow as her own.

Outside there was a voice in the hall.

"Ayako, are you all right in there? I heard noises . . ."

The girl continued her stare, as empty and lifeless as ever.

"Do you want dinner? I made curry. It's your favorite . . ."

Sakura detected a small crack in the voice, accompanied by the sound of a muffled sob.

"Here, I'll just leave it in the hall . . ."

There was a sliding sound, of a plate being placed on a wooden floor, and then footsteps leading away.

All the while the girl's eyes never left Sakura's, and her expression did not change.

But that ended abruptly the moment she caught sight of Rider. The instant the purple haired Servant approached, her eyes went wild, and her whole body began to shake with a sudden violence. Before she could scream, Sakura clapped her hand over her mouth.

She and Rider exchanged a look.

There was no time for discussion. At once, Rider set up her Blood Fort. As the barrier went up, the girl struggled for a moment. And then she went limp.

"I'm sorry, my Lady. I did not know if she would remember me."

"It's all right, Rider. Come on, let's check her for a Command Seal."

"These readings are enormous! Shinji said, watching the way the compass needle moved every time he took a step.

'Whoever is generating them either has a tremendous amount of magical energy, or else they lack the ability to conceal their presence – that or they're a complete novice and they simply don't know how.

'Either way, it's unlucky for them – but lucky for us!" he laughed.

Issei found his over confidence rather distasteful, but he himself certainly had no idea what to do, so for the moment he decided it was best to simply go along.

"One twenty-three Moon Flower street – wait – this is – "

"This is where Archery Captain Mitsuzuri lives!" Issei said, finishing for him. "I recognize the address because her teachers all asked me to send her their homework –"

As Issei spoke, a wild look came into Shinji's eyes.

"- We sent so many letters, but there was never any response. Eventually we stopped trying . . ." Issei trailed off, an idea coming into his head. "Hey – do you think Mitsuzuri could be one of the other Masters?"

His voice was filled with excitement. At last it seemed they were getting somewhere.

But Shinji did not share his enthusiasm.

"I – I don't know –"

"You two were in the same club, and you were Vice Captain – do you think it's possible that – "

"I TOLD YOU I DON'T KNOW !" Shinji shouted, taking him aback with his sudden outburst.

'We were in the same club, but we didn't really know each other. That, and – Mitsuzuri and I didn't really get along very well, so . . ."

"Ohh . . ." Issei said, not certain of what to make of his friend's sudden embarrassment.

"Anyways, it's not like I ever went to her house or anything", Shinji went on hurriedly, "So – wait! I know! As Student Council President, you could say you were concerned, and decided to stop by, and see how she was doing –"

"I don't know . . . We stopped sending letters a while ago. And it's awfully late."

"Come on! You could say that you had some business to take care of, but you were coming by as soon as you could –"

Issei looked up at the third story window doubtfully.

"Maybe we should just go home . . ."

"But the Compass says something is here! This is the best lead we've got!"

Sakura eased Ayako's limp body back into the chair. They'd searched everywhere – her hands – arms – feet – legs – back – neck – and torso. At Rider's insistence they had even gone so far as to look into her mouth and under her hair, but nowhere was there any sign of anything that could remotely be considered a Command Seal.

"Do you want me to remove her undergarments, my Lady?"

Sakura frowned.

"There's no need for that. This girl is barely in control of her own body. She couldn't possibly control a Servant. There's no way she could be a Master.

'Come on, let's get her dressed."

With Rider's help, Sakura replaced her shirt, and contemplated putting on a pair of pants. It seemed like the decent thing to do, but she wondered what Mitsuzuri would think upon waking up and finding herself more fully dressed than when she went to sleep.

Suddenly Rider froze.

Sakura sensed it too.

"Someone's here."

So it was that Issei found himself in the hall in front of Mitsuzuri's apartment. He moved his hand towards the doorbell doubtfully.

"Whatever you do, don't mention anything about me!" Shinji insisted.

Issei sighed, and pressed the button.

"If he wanted to be so particular he should do things himself – "

On the other side of the door, he could hear the sound of the bell ringing throughout the apartment.

"What am I going to say?"

As President, he'd given plenty of speeches before to people he didn't know, sometimes about things he knew little or nothing about. In the end, he figured he'd be able to come up with something.

"Maybe I'll get lucky, and no one will answer", he thought, ringing the bell again.

"Shinji did say that there was an unusually large amount of magical energy coming from this apartment", he thought, abandoning the bell and starting to knock.

'And Mitsuzuri-san hasn't been in school for a very long time. Something's off . . ."

Issei tried the door with uncertainty.

To his surprise, the handle turned easily. It was unlocked.

"Nice neighborhood . . ." he thought, staring at the now cracked open door with disbelief. And then he went in.

On the other side a TV was playing. It was only the evening news, but the sound of it nearly made him jump out of his skin.

"I really am trespassing", he thought, making his way stealthily into the living room.

"Hello . . ?"

Someone was laying on the couch. At first he thought they were sleeping, but on taking a closer look, their sprawling posture clearly suggested that they had collapsed.

"Are you all right!?" he shouted, rushing over. He had no idea how he would explain himself, but there was no time to worry about that now.

"Still breathing, but unconscious . . ." he said, easing the body back down into a more comfortable position. It was a man in his mid-thirties, most likely Mitsuzuri's father.

"Something is clearly wrong . . ."

He made his way around the corner, into the kitchen, where he was greeted by a sudden scare.

"Oh God!"

There at the counter was a woman – probably Mitsuzuri's mother. She was standing at the stove with a spatula in her hand, but her eyes were closed, and she was swaying absent mindedly as one of the pots boiled over.

Unsure if he should touch her, Issei carefully reached over, and turned the burner down, then off. At once the flames went out, and after a moment, the boiling ceased. He checked the stove, and the oven too, just to be sure, but none of the other burners were on, so he made his way into the hall.

A quick check revealed a room with a queen sized bed and two night stands. This no doubt belonged to the parents.

"It's a little small to be the master", he thought.

Beside it was a small guestroom, while on the other side was a linen closet, and a bathroom. That only left one door at the end of the hall.

"This has to be it", Issei thought. He started to knock.

"Mitsuzuri, are you in there?"

No answer.

"Mitsuzuri? Something's going on –"

He tried the handle.

It was locked.

A sudden rattle startled him from somewhere around his feet. Looking down, he saw a plate sitting on the floor.

"What's this doing here?"

There was no time to think about it now.

Examining the lock, he saw it was of a simple design, and one that he was familiar with. They had similar locks on the doors of the temple's guest house. He remembered helping his father once, when one of the monks had taken ill, and passed out in his room. Being a simple interior door, there were no pins or tumblers, only one basic mechanism, so his father had been able to take a screwdriver and open it easily.

Hoping his intuition was right, Issei scrambled back to the kitchen, where he started going through each of the drawers. One held cutlery and utensils, while another was full of measuring cups and accessories for different kitchen appliances. But a third, on the end was full of batteries, miscellaneous cables and old charging cords, and other various junk.

Mixed in along with it he found a small screwdriver, such as one would use for repairing eyeglasses, or tinkering with electronics.

"Man, I wish Shiro was here", Issei thought, racing back to the hall. "He'd probably have the whole door off its hinges by now."

At times like this, Shiro always seemed to know what to do. But there was no use thinking about that now.

Issei rushed back to the door, and fitted the screwdriver to the lock.

It turned easily, the bolt disengaging with a click.

Issei took a deep breath.

"Mitsuzuri, I'm coming in!"

When Issei opened the door, he was greeted by a strange scene. The sliding doors were open, so that the curtains billowed in the breeze, along with the skeletal rattle of the swaying vertical blinds. The whole room was a strange mix of two atmospheres, as the old stale air rushed out and the new fresh air rushed in. Their collision provoked a wild feeling, their two boundaries marked by a swirling storm of dust.

Ayako sat in a chair, barely decent in only her t-shirt and underwear, her head thrown back, shivering violently from the cold.

"Mitsuzuri!" Issei shouted, rushing over to her.

As he drew close, he caught sight of a strange purple haired figure as it leapt from the window.

Even in his own limited experience, Issei could tell that this was no ordinary human. The lithe movements and flowing, supernatural grace left him no doubt.

"A Servant . . ."

His thoughts were interrupted by a scream.

"Shinji!"

Running to the balcony, he saw that Shinji's outburst had been provoked not by the purple haired girl, but instead by Caster's golems, which were springing up all around him.

"Waugh!" he cried at the strange skeletal forms as they emerged from the ground.

Leaping over the railing, the girl shot out her arm, loosing some sort of chain weapon so that its spiked tip lashed through the creature to Shinji's left, shattering the bones, rendering it harmless.

Without pause, she drew the chain back, letting it pass behind her shoulder, shattering another of the creatures as it snuck up behind her, and then brought it whirling up over her head, then smashing down, into the golem at Shinji's right.

"Rider!" Shinji called, his face warm with recognition as she strode towards him. "Boy, and I glad to see –"

She interrupted their reunion with a swift kick to Shinji's groin.

Issei's eyes went wide at the sickening crunch.

"Rider, why . . ." Shinji asked as he sank to the ground.

For an answer, Rider whirled the chain over hear head again, taking the head off of the nearest monster.

She was bringing it back around for another pass, but it appeared that the next creature had learned something from the death of its companions. Raising its bony shield, it caught the sharp spike flat, knocking it down so that it pinged lifelessly to the ground, and then charged.

Issei felt his own hands tense their grip on the rail. As the skeletal monster bore down on her, it seemed that there was nowhere for her to go.

But without so much as a hint of worry, Rider stepped on the dart, and with a sharp pull at the chain, sent it flying, shearing off the charging monster at the knees, so that if fell midstride.

"This isn't good", Issei said. "She's already destroyed half of our forces . . ."

But even as he said, it, he could not help feeling a certain sense of admiration. There was something about the way she moved – at once forceful, yet dancelike. One of the creatures circled around, trying to get in close, and deprive her of the advantage of her reach. Without flinching, she let the chain wrap around her arm, shortening with each pass, then shot out her elbow, uncoiling it all at once.

The golem fell, shattering amid a skeletal explosion.

Another sought to approach from the side, but she made a similar maneuver, letting the chain wrap around her knee, then shooting it out in a devastating kick, once again shattering the monster before it could get close.

Wherever she moved – her hands – arms – feet – legs – the chain was a part of her, and Issei found himself mesmerized, wrapped up in the swaying of her body.

At the last, the remaining golems formed a united front, charging at her from three sides at once.

The chain grew shorter, and her motions wilder at each pass. It wrapped around her like the bars of a cage, catching first her arms, then her shoulders, and then her neck.

Issei winced as it grazed her forehead, just beneath the line of her purple hair, dreading what would inevitably come next.

But as he watched, Rider stretched out her hands, lashing out with both ends of the chain at once.

In a single motion, all three of the skeletal forms exploded, raining down in bits of bone, amid the graceful flow of her purple hair.

Issei stared, astounded.

And then he realized that their army was gone.

Not wasting a moment, Rider turned back towards Shinji, who cowered as she stalked towards him.

"Hey – Rider – come on – " he pleaded, crawling backwards. "We were on the same side – we fought together – in the last war – don't you remember the last war? Issei – Issei, DO SOMETHING!"

Desperate, Issei did the one thing he could think of.

"HEY! YOU! LEAVE HIM ALONE !"

It was a fine, manly shout, so that for a moment, even Issei was impressed at the way that his voice echoed in the courtyard.

Until he realized that Rider had turned her attention towards him.

Letting the chain slip from her fingers, she twirled it past her shoulder once – twice –

And then she shot it straight up.

Issei leapt back, narrowly dodging as the chain shot up past his face, so that its ringed spike lodged deeply in the wooden soffit that formed the underside of the balcony's overhang.

For a moment he stared at it in horror.

With an unceremonious yank, Rider dislodged the barb and let it fall, three stories straight down, until she caught it, bending the chain in an arc, bringing it up, over her shoulder, and down, to where it met squarely with Shinji's foot.

The dagger like tip passed through his shoe, then through the meat and bone, and then out the other side again, burrowing itself deeply into the earth.

"WAUUGGHH – AUGGHH – GGGHHH!"

Issei gasped.

". . . . ."

A second gasp came from beside him.

Turning, he saw it was Mitsuzuri.

Evidently she had regained some of her wits, for she had put on a pair of sweat pants, and was standing in the sliding door with a blanket around her shoulders, watching the spectacle below with a mixture of fascination and horror.

"You . . . bitch . . ."

Issei recoiled, offended that Shinji would address Mitsuzuri in this way when clearly she herself had been through some terrible ordeal, when turning, he was shocked to see another figure standing on the balcony beside them.

There in the corner was Sakura. She'd been standing in the shadows the whole time, but so quietly that he hadn't even noticed her until now, when she had stepped out into the moonlight.

"Matou-san – "

As Issei turned towards her, a wild look came into Sakura's eyes. Drawing back her hand, what appeared to be a purple ribbon of pure energy formed between each of her fingers, which she used like a scourge, lashing out at him, so that he was forced to leap back, watching in horror as they tore through the side of the building in front of him.

A second stroke downwards, from over her shoulder, made him leap towards the railing, where he tottered for a moment, then tipped up, and over the edge. In desperation he caught the handrail, holding it under his arm as he looked up at her. But he could feel his grip was slipping.

Looking beneath him, he could see that it was three stories, straight down. Even if he managed to hit the grass and clear the concrete patio on the first floor, he had no confidence that he would come out of the fall alive, much less uninjured.

Sakura drew back her hand.

Issei made a desperate gamble, and let go.

For a moment he hung weightless in the air. Then gravity caught up with him. As he began to fall, his feet found the side of the building. Kicking off, he launched himself towards the clump of trees at the corner, where he managed to grab one of the outer limbs. It was too thin to support his weight, but it was enough to divert his momentum, swinging him into the tree where he collided squarely with one of the larger branches.

"OOFH!"

Issei gasped, trying to catch hold of it, but he'd lost most of his senses, and tilted to the side, his back connecting with another branch with such force that he was sure it must be broken. From there it was a blurred cascade, all the way down to the ground where he ended up laying, bruised and battered, and with the wind thoroughly knocked out of him.

"YOU – BITCH !" Shinji snarled, picking an altogether unhelpful moment to find his voice again.

'How DARE you do this to me! Rider was my Servant – MY SERVANT !"

"She was never YOUR Servant", Sakura said coldly.

"That does it! I'll tell Shiro – "

"Shiro?" Issei asked, trying to sit up.

" – I'll tell him everything!"

Sakura's eyes went wide with rage.

Rider held up the tip of her iron spike beneath her chin, and drew it across her neck, then looked up at Sakura questioningly.

"Hey!" Shinji said, panic coming into his voice again. "Wait! I didn't mean it! I take it back!"

Sakura smirked, then shook her head.

Rider lowered the spike to her waist, past her hips, and drew it across suggestively, its bladed tip in line with her groin.

Sakura tilted her head to the side, considering.

"AH! I said I take it back! I take it back! I swear I won't say anything!"

As Sakura smiled, Issei got a chill at just how much she reminded him of Tohsaka, and her fox eyed smile that all of her classmates feared so much.

Sakura shook her head again.

Shinji sighed in relief.

But then recoiled as Rider continued to stalk towards him.

"Hey – wait! Waaiit! She said no, didn't she!? SHE SAID NO – GAAHHH !" he cried, trying to crawl backwards again, shrieking when his foot pulled against the bladed barb that still held it firmly pinned to the ground.

With one swift kick of the chain, Rider dislodged the dart, whirling it up over her head, trailing a shower of blood behind, and then brought it smashing down, onto the body of the golem whose legs she had sheared off earlier.

A quick flick of her wrist brought the spike back to her hand, where she shook off the remaining gore.

"Come on Rider, we're done here."

Rider loosed her dart, shooting it upwards so that it caught the underside of the overhang again. A quick contraction of the chain brought her up, over the railing, where she landed lightly next to Sakura.

At the sight of her, Mitsuzuri, who until then had been calm, began to shake violently, unable to run from a paralysis of fear.

Rider frowned.

Taking the bladed barb, she rested it against the side of Ayako's neck.

"I'm – sorry for what happened to you . . ." she said, "But if it's any consolation", she added, looking over her shoulder, "Your little friend down there didn't do the half of what he'd let you imagine. In the end, he didn't have the guts. Lucky for him, I guess", Rider smirked. "If he had, it wouldn't have been his foot that got impaled."

At her words, Ayako looked up, a certain light coming into her eyes.

"Come ON, Rider" Sakura said, a bit more emphatically, as she sat on the edge of the balcony, bringing her legs up and over the rail, careful to keep her knees pressed modestly together.

"We've lingered here too long."

And with that, she pushed off.

Rider dove, catching her in midair. Using her chain, she swung them in an arc, up, over the rooftop, before bounding away, into the night.

And then they were gone.

"Ayako, are you all right?"

When Mitsuzuri's mother had come to, she was standing at the stove. The spatula was still in her hand, but the burner was off, and the water in the pan had grown cold.

Checking the living room, she found her husband was still slumbering on the couch.

"The lazy oaf . . ." she thought, lovingly.

It was nothing unusual. Ayako's father usually fell asleep while watching the news every night. But still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. With a sense of dread, she made her way to the closed door at the end of the hall.

"Is everything okay in there? I heard – noises . . ."

No answer.

There was never any answer.

For over a year, it had been like this. Ever since the police had found her in the alley. The wound to her neck had been small, almost inconsequential. But ever since that night, her daughter, who had once been so full of light and life, the beacon of all her hope, had been different.

With trembling fingers, she reached up, and felt in the dust above the door, until she found the key. Carefully, she took it down.

She had played the scenarios out in her mind a thousand times. Sometimes Ayako would be in bed. Other times she would be lying on the floor. Still others, she imagined finding her out on the balcony, swaying in the breeze . . .

She put the key to the lock, and uttered a whispered prayer.

"Please . . ."

To her surprise, it was open.

But that was nothing next to the shock she received when she opened the door.

There, in the middle of the room, was Ayako.

She was wearing one of her t-shirts, very old and wrinkled, but clean looking, and along with it, a pair of sweat pants. Her hair was still an awful mess, but it was tied back, with one of her handkerchiefs draped over it. It had the texture of straw, but it showed signs of having been recently brushed.

She was holding a bow in her hands, fitting her fingers to the string, and flexing it, all the while humming to herself.

"Ayako . . ?" her mother asked, resisting the urge to run and seize her only because of how weak and fragile looking she still was.

"Tch –" Ayako said, flexing the bow again, noting the motion of its arms, and frowning at the weakness of her own.

"I've been thinking . . ." she said, without looking away. "It's probably about time I went back to school again . . ."

"You know you're breaking the rules", Rider said.

After they had gotten a safe distance away, Sakura had insisted that she set her down. Rider of course could have carried her all the way home, over the rooftops. It would have been faster, and less dangerous, but Sakura had insisted that she wanted to walk, and as her Master, Rider had no choice but to obey her.

"I'll let Grandfather worry about following the rules", she said, her voice carrying with it an uncharacteristic sense of whimsy as they made their way down the now familiar street.

Rider sighed.

"But you KNOW you're supposed to kill anyone who finds out about the War who isn't directly involved . . ."

Sakura pretended not to hear her for a moment, pausing instead to admire one of the evergreen trees at a nearby park.

"Well" she said, covering her mouth to conceal a yawn. "I guess we'll just have to consider her involved then.