Day 2: Shirou — Night Of Fate
Shirou watched from the edge of the school courtyard as two figures engaged in battle. One was a man in a skin-tight blue suit, wielding a glittering red spear. The other was a girl in a purple dress, wielding a black bow with no arrows. The girl launched blast after blast of purple energy from her bow; the man struck them from the air one after another with the point of his spear. Both figures moved with impossible speed and precision. They looked human, but no human could ever be capable of such perfect movements. They had to be some type of magical being: demons, or fairies, or True Ancestors, or one of myriad other types of fantastic creatures that Kiritsugu had described to him during his training.
The two figures paused in their combat, then adopted battle stances. A moment later, he felt a massive swell of magical energy from them, and realized that what he'd seen so far had been mere sparring. Only now were they preparing to fight seriously. The amount of prana they were exuding was beyond anything Shirou had ever seen before. Even his father, who had been a true magus rather than a half-baked one like Shirou, couldn't have used even a fraction of the amount of magical power they were now gathering. And just as thick as the aura of power surrounding them, was the force of their killing intent. This was no friendly competition, but a fight to the death. When they released their attacks, they would be aiming to kill; and with the enormous amount of prana being built up, it was almost certain that one of them would die.
The figures were not human, could not be human. Intellectually, Shirou knew that. But they looked human to his eyes, one of them even resembling a young girl. And feeling the intensity of their killing intent, memories of the fire ten years ago flooded his mind.
A black sun. A sea of fire. The screams of thousands of anguished souls being burned alive, begging to be saved. Shirou had wandered for a day amidst the fire and devastating, listening to those despairing cries. But when rain had finally begun to fall, extinguishing the flames, only Shirou had still been alive. Of all those who had cried out for salvation, only he had been saved.
Shirou hadn't been able to save anyone. He had been too young, too weak, too badly injured. He had ignored the desperate pleas of those asking him for aid, seeking only to preserve his own life. And when the flames had gone out, Kiritsugu had found only him alive, had saved only him. Shirou had never been able to stop thinking about all the others, those who had died abandoned in that burning hell.
Shirou had received the miracle of being saved when no-one else had. And so, he felt it was his duty to those who had died to repay that miracle by saving others. He didn't care if he died, so long as in doing so he could save another — he should have died on that day, amidst that soul-charring fire; everything since then had simply been borrowed time.
The memory of that moment was engraved in Shirou's mind. Kiritsugu had seemed to happy, when he had saved Shirou; as if it was actually him being saved. And Shirou had admired the beauty of that ideal. To put saving others above one's own self; to find happiness in bringing happiness to others. Shirou had borrowed that way of life and made it his own. It was the single purpose that drove him, the iron-clad law by which he lived his life.
Whatever these two combatants were, they looked human to his eyes. That was enough. He wouldn't allow anyone in his sight to die if there was anything he could possibly do about it. Shirou spotted a fallen tree branch near his feet and picked it up as a makeshift weapon. It wouldn't be much good in its current state, but Shirou's magic circuit was still in place from the reinforcement he had performed on the air conditioner. Shirou once more ran prana though it, analyzing the branch's structure and performing a reinforcement to increase its durability. It was somewhat difficult — Shirou had never tried reinforcing a tree branch before, and so had no practice with its properties — but the urgency of the situation strengthened his resolve and allowed him to focus his concentration to a far greater degree than in even his most fruitful training sessions. Within moments, the soft, decayed wood of the broken branch had become as strong and solid as freshly forged steel.
Then, armed with this primitive club, Shirou gave a shout of protest and ran between the dueling warriors before they could unleash the lethal strikes they'd been building their prana for.
"What are you doing, idiot!? Do you have a death wish or something? Run for your life, moron!"
He'd been expecting one or the other to object to his intervention. To his surprise, however, they looked more dumbfounded than anything; the actual yell of condemnation came not from the fighters but from the observer who'd been watching from the sidelines — Rin Tohsaka, the student who had accosted Sakura in school earlier that day. Just what was up with that girl?
"Tohsaka!" Shirou shot her a concerned glance. "What are you doing here? It's dangerous!"
"That's what I'm asking you!" Rin shrieked. "And if you know that it's dangerous, why haven't you run away?"
"I couldn't run!" Shirou said. "Not when someone's in danger!"
The bow-wielding girl seemed content letting Shirou and Rin talk as long as they wished, but the lance-wielding man's patience ran out. After saying something nonsensical about a "Holy Grail", he attacked.
If he'd been using the same level of strength as when fighting the girl, Shirou wouldn't have stood a chance. However, it seemed the man was taking him lightly, as his strikes lacked their former speed; he seemed almost laid-back as he swung the lance downwards toward's Shirou's collarbone. Shirou raised his branch to block it. The reinforced wood bent under the fearsome force of the spear, but did not break.
The man launched a flurry of follow-up attacks that Shirou could barely keep up with; only his many painful sessions of kendo practice with Taiga saved him, allowing him to anticipate the coming blows by watching the man's balance and movements. Sparks flew as the spear impacted his branch again and again, bending it a little further out of shape each time. Shirou knew he couldn't keep up his defense for long; another few seconds, and he'd be overwhelmed. To his surprise, though, his opponent abruptly broke off the attacks.
"Hmm." the man said appraisingly. "Not many humans would've been able to block those blows. I'm actually a little impressed, kid. So, I'll give you the respect of fighting you seriously."
The man abruptly lunged forwards with speed that Shirou could barely follow, let alone match. Before he had a chance to react, the man had spun about and delivered a vicious kick to Shirou's side. It was a blow strong enough to break his ribs and collapse his chest. Any ordinary human who received such an attack would die instantly. But Shirou was not just any human; he was a magus. In response to the impact, his Magic Circuit flared as he almost instinctually redirected prana to his ribs. Shirou reinforced himself, strengthening his flesh and bones so that they could endure the force of the blue warrior's strike. The price of his survival was pain beyond imagining. It felt as though the entire side of his body was being pierced by thousands of invisible swords. It was too much to bear, and everything faded white as Shirou's consciousness abandoned him.
He came back to his senses a moment later, lying in a school corridor surrounded by shards of broken glass. The force of the kick had apparently been so great as to send Shirou flying across the courtyard and though one of the school's windows. The reinforced branch he'd been using as a club was nowhere in sight, probably having been flung from his hands when he passed out; but Shirou no longer considered fighting the blue-clad man a sensible option anyway. With any luck, the bow-wielding girl and Tohsaka had taken advantage of the distraction he'd provided in order to escape. Now he only had to worry about getting away himself. Ignoring the lingering pain in his side, Shirou pulled himself to his feet and began to run.
He couldn't go directly for the exit — the enemy would be expecting that, and would be able to head him off. Better to take a more unpredictable path. Shirou headed for the nearest stairwell and climbed to the second floor, then began running down the hall. He'd go into one of the empty classrooms, hide in a closet until the danger had passed—
"Yo."
The enemy suddenly spoke from directly behind him, surprising Shirou so much that he stumbled and fell. The man approached Shirou, prepared to skewer him where he had fallen. Shirou tried to pull himself away, but found himself with his back pressed against a locker.
"Done running?" the man asked.
His tone was jovial, as if they were buddies out drinking rather than a murderer and victim.
"Nothing personal, kid." the man continued. "It's just Magic Association rules. No one who witnesses Servants battling can be allowed to live. But, hey. It was pretty for a bit there, wasn't it?"
Shirou genuinely got the sense that the man bore him no particular malice, but that didn't change the fact that the outcome of their encounter would be Shirou's death. Shirou glanced frantically around himself, looking for something he could grab and reinforce — anything to stave of the approaching death, even if only for a single blow longer. And then, a miracle. Like a ghost stepping out of thin air, the bow-wielding girl appeared in the hall behind the lance-wielding man.
"It is a grave insult to turn your back on an opponent." she said.
When the spearman turned around and began to banter with her in his typical frivolous style, Shirou seized the opportunity and run. Without a single glance backwards, he fled the school, ignoring the sound of an explosion behind him.
Shirou's heart burned with shame. He had intervened in the fight in the first place because he wanted to protect others; and yet, he had succumbed to his body's survival instinct and ended up running away. True, he was completely outmatched by the lance-wielding man, while the bow-wielding girl seemed able to stand her own against him; looked at from that perspective, fleeing was the only sensible option. But that didn't change the fact that he had saved himself by leaving another to face danger in his place.
How pathetic. He dreamed of being a hero of justice; and yet when he tried to save a girl, he ended having to be saved by her instead. That wasn't the way Shirou wanted to live. He wanted to be the kind of person who would do anything to save another, even if it meant the sacrifice of his own life. If he couldn't live up to that ideal, then what was the point of living at all?
Shirou stopped running. He had run the entire distance from the school back to his house, and now stood in the yard. However, he hesitated before entering. Taiga would doubtless ask what he had been doing staying out so late. Just saying he had been repairing the air conditioner in the student council room wouldn't do; he was bruised from his fight, his clothes were dirtied and ripped, and he had the unpleasant suspicion that there might be shards of broken glass stuck in his hair. But he couldn't very well tell her the truth, either: while Taiga had been a friend of Kiritsugu, she was not a mage and knew nothing of the world of magic. There was no way he could let an innocent get dragged into whatever dark mage business was happening between Tohsaka, the bow-wielding girl, and the spear-wielding man...
"Yo, again."
As though summoned by Shirou's thoughts, an all-too-familiar laid-back greeting came from behind him. Shirou whirled around to find himself once more staring down the blue-clad man with the red spear. He gave Shirou a cheerful wave.
"Don't tell me you're surprised to see me again." the man said. "Rules of the War aside, I would never let such an interesting prey escape. Show me some more of your fighting spirit, kid."
Shirou turned and ran. This time, there was no guilt or hesitation in his decision: unlike before, there was nobody else in danger. There was no sense in dying meaninglessly, and he understood well enough that he simply couldn't much this man in combat prowess. The fact that he had lived this long was more due to the man's interest in toying with him than anything else. His only hope of survival was escape.
Trying to run across open ground would be futile; the enemy was much faster than him, and would simply spear him in the back. Instead, Shirou ran for the nearest cover: the toolshed where he practiced his magecraft. He wasn't sure what he'd do when he got there; it was a dead-end, with no other exits. For the moment, however, he decided to focus simply on reaching the toolshed alive. If he somehow managed to make it that far, then maybe he could afford to worry about what to do next. Until then, he thought of nothing but running, lunging the final few feet through the toolshed door, and slamming it behind him.
Somewhat to his surprise, he made it. Given the inhuman speed the man had demonstrated when kicking Shirou earlier, he'd figured he would've been skewered after covering no more than half the distance to the door. Once again, it seemed he was merely being toyed with.
A moment later, the enemy walked into the toolshed; not through the door, which Shirou was hurriedly locking, but through the wall. His body seemed to become ghost-like as he passed through the shed's wall, then solid again once he fully emerged. A moment later, his red spear reappeared in his hand. Shirou instinctive impulse was to back away, but his back was to the door that he himself had just finished locking
"Nowhere left to run, kid." the man said. "Nothing to do but fight until you die. Try not to make this too one-sided, okay? I'll be real disappointed if it turns out I overestimated your abilities."
The glittering red spear swung upwards at Shirou's stomach, trying to gut him like a fish. Shirou had expected that the man would strike as soon as he had finished speaking, and so was already moving backwards. However, because he hadn't had time to take in his surroundings, he misjudged his step. He knew the general layout of the toolshed well enough, having spent so much time practicing his magecraft there over the years; but what he didn't have memorized was the layout of all the various items strewn across the floor. As he tried to dodge backwards, he stepped on the remains of the lamp he'd broken during the previous night's magecraft practice, and his feet went flying out from under him.
Shirou tumbled over backwards. The good news was that his fall at least carried him out of the range of the man's spear, which swept through the air where he'd been standing a moment earlier. However, now that he was lying on the ground, Shirou was no longer capable of moving fast enough to dodge the enemy's strikes. As soon as the man stepped into range, it would be over. Shirou tried to scramble backwards across the floor, but there was nowhere to go; he soon found himself cornered, amidst the remains of an old magic circle that his father had inscribed on the shed floor long ago. Trapped, he could do nothing but stare at his oncoming death.
...The blue-clad man thrust his red lance at Shirou's chest. The lance shot forwards like lightning. It was a strike that would certainly pierce Shirou's heart. Rather, it felt like it had already pierced his heart. The outcome of his heart being pierced was certain; the completion of the thrust was a mere formality.
There was a flash of golden light. The sound of metal striking metal and being repelled...
And she appeared before him: the female knight with an invisible sword, who called herself Saber and addressed him as her Master. And before she could explain what was occurring, he arrived: the one-eyed, one-armed man who also claimed the name of Saber. And no sooner had they confronted each other than the bounded field screeched warning of still more intruders, and the three of them rushed outside to find Rin Tohsaka, also with a man and a girl standing by her side: the bow-wielding girl who Shirou had seen fighting earlier, and a man in a red coat who looked at Shirou with contemptuous eyes.
And though Shirou understood nothing of what was going on, one thing was abundantly clear: Shirou's world would never be the same again.