From Sword to Knife
By: Aria
Interlude I: Life is Strange
Warning: Unbeta-ed, some miss typos, unreliable narrator, not based on fate lore. English is not my first language, so please pardon me for the grammar
Disclaimer: Both of Shokugeki no Soma and Fate/Series aren't, and won't be mine.
Years after his 'reincarnation' as Yukihira Souma, there was something he wanted to try in his second life.
Something that was... very iconic for him.
"Hey, Dad?" he called, entered the enormous kitchen where his Dad was currently cooking the lunch. "Can I ask you something?"
Eyes not leaving the pot, Joichirou nodded. "Yeah, of course. Whaddya want, son?"
"Um," he pondered for a moment. "Y'know, somehow I want to do archery."
There was a pause. "...Archery?" he asked, a little bit monotone.
Shirou was weirded out by his father's odd response, but he decided to not pay any mind. "Ah, yes. Yesterday I watched an archery competition so I decided to try it. Can I?"
"...Hoo, yesterday, hm?" he said as he turned off the stove and moved the pot to the table. He then turned his back facing him, his usual goofy eyes narrowing dangerously. Shirou unconsciously tensed as his instinct screaming trouble. "Is it related to your... secret 'adventure' yesterday?" he asked in a bland tone.
He froze.
"I–I don't know what are you talking about, dad," he answered smoothly, although his eyes betrayed him. Shirou almost flinched at his father's unreadable stare.
Joichirou snorted while giving him a stern face. "Don't lie to me, son. Both me and you know Yoshi-san never tell lies. And I heard from the good ol' man there, both of you had a nice trip to our hometown yesterday, am I wrong?" he said.
Shirou cowered. He'd almost forgot how bad his father was when he entered his 'overprotective mode'.
He knew his father was an overprotective big oaf–especially after his mother's death, but he hadn't realized how protective he was until he learned it in a hard way.
One day, he had decided to visit another town where supposedly Fuyuki city should've been stood. He had been trying to find any similarities, which he had almost found none except the abandoned church and the famous red bridge. He even had visited the same place where the Great Fire happened–which coincidentally a big fire happened there two years ago before he had born because of gas leak–, but nothing worth to find. But he'd noted a big family whose the granddaughter looked like his past live caretaker, Fujimaru Taiga, only far younger–probably was still fifteen.
Interestingly, her name was Tora.
By noon, he had chosen to go back home by train. When he'd stepped out from the train, he had been bewilderment to find the station was full of frantic men in black. He would have been running away in fright when one of them suddenly had pointed at him if he hadn't seen the Tootsuki pin, which was related to Nakiri's Family, on their suit.
According to one of the man who was more than happy to tell him, it seemed they had been sent by a worried Sanzaemon who couldn't stand watching his granddaughter's distress, especially when Joichirou had threatened to kill anybody who had 'stolen his one and only son' and almost spilled the blood of the poor guard.
By that moment, he had realized that he had forgotten to tell everyone about his sudden trip. And he had been truly fu–fricked up when both of the girls and his dad wailing while hugging him tightly.
He had been grounded for one week by all of them–no cooking match, no night snack, no television, and no going out alone, forever. His father made sure at least one bodyguard–usually it's Yoshi-san– escorted him with or without his knowledge.
Since then, Shirou made sure to notice anyone whenever he went to somewhere by himself, even if it was only a hundred meter from the house. He didn't want to see his friends' saddening face and–Good God, no, his father's murderous side. He wouldn't mind fighting numerous Servants, phantasmal beast, or even dead apostle if it meaned avoiding his dad's wrath.
In short, he was in a big trouble right now.
"Ah, no, I mean–yeah I went, but, uhm," he was babbling incoherent words until slumped in defeat. Oh, damn it. "...Yes, I am. I wasn't gone too far though, and um–yes, I was with Yoshi-san. I only went to Sumire town, just for, you know, checking Chiyo-baasan and also...–err, sports competition because, um, I heard it was interesting and–"
"Almost one hour from here, not counting the traffic or so-often delaying train schedule," Joichirou sighed heavily. "Son, I know you're far wiser than any kids I've met and won't do something stupid–yet, but you can't fool anyone with that small body, chubby cheeks, and that big doe eyes. You could've been kidnapped!"
Shirou ducked his head feeling utterly guilty. He might be used to have someone worried for his wellbeing, but never from a rather quirky parental figure such as Joichirou. Even Kiritsugu's quirkiness was lost against his new father, and on top of that Joichirou was a type of person who openly voiced his worries. The latter, of course, was an instant ticket to guilty-trip him.
"...'M sorry," Shirou croaked sadly. "For not tellin' you..."
His eyes softened. Joichirou ruffled his head lovingly and murmured, "Well, what's done is done. At least you went not without Yoshi-san. But..." he once again narrowed his eyes, giving Shirou a warning but affectionate look. "Don't do it again, will ya?"
He nodded. "Uhm-mm. I promise."
"Good," he responded in satisfaction and once again ruffling Shirou's head much for his displeasure. "And about your request–I accept."
Shirou immediately darted his eyes up, staring at his father hopefully. "Really?"
"Yeah," Joichirou grinned goofily. "Luckily I know someone who can help us."
He blinked.
"Who?"
"So, Hiroshi, what do you think of my son?" asked Joichirou.
Beside him, a middle-aged man stared hard at Souma who was aiming at the target hundreds meter in front of him, completely ignored him. He later released a sharp breath when he hit the target exactly in the middle.
"He's good," said Hiroshi in awestruck, eyes never leaving his son's figure. "A natural talent, if I must say. Are you sure he never do any kind of archery before?" he asked.
He shook his head, pride blooming on his chest.
To be honest, he had been skeptical when his son was totally serious to do archery. But seeing his determination and passion he couldn't help but relented. Especially when he didn't back down when he met his new teacher, Hiroshi, who was–in his opinion–very intimidating. Apparently, just by that he quickly had earned Hiroshi's respect.
Luckily there was a small unused wooden house at Nakiri's household ground, and Sanzaemon was more than happy to convert it into archery dojo. Joichirou didn't need to worry about training place or another 'great exploring trip' that his son recently had taken a liking.
Honestly, it's like he didn't realize he was only ten years old, not an adult who could go anywhere they want.
But maybe that's why he is rather athletic compared to other kids, he pondered. He knew his son preferred to travel by foot–saving money, he said. Maybe because of it, his stamina was better than others. Paired with his apparently natural talent, Souma would be a monster in the future.
And to think this came from a professional international-level athlete.
Joichirou was busy with his thought that he almost missed an approaching Souma. Seeing his sweaty face and reddening palms, he didn't need to have medical knowledge to know how tired his son was. Yet, his big, proud smile once again calmed his heart. He unconsciously smiled back, ruffled his damp hair.
"Master, how do you think?" Souma asked the dark-haired man rather eagerly after prying Joichirou's hand. His golden eyes twinkled in hope and expectant.
Hiroshi was silent, hand in thinking pose. Both of them waited for his respond patiently.
"You're," he started, before entering thinking pose again. Souma frowned in confusion.
"I am?"
"...You know what? Fine. It's a waste of talent after all." Hiroshi chuckled out of blue, making their confusion grew. He seemed to notice their wary eyes but didn't do anything about it. Rather, he crouched a little, meeting his black bead eyes with Souma's golden eyes. Joichirou stared at both of them, curious.
"Souma, right?" He nodded. A big grin appeared on his face.
"First experience doing archery?"
"...uh, um, y-yeah."
"How many perfect shots you got?"
Souma blinked. He was silent for a moment before answered, "Seven. From eight arrow."
Hiroshi nodded. "Nice, very nice," praised him. His smile was getting bigger that was crept Joichirou a little bit.
"So," he smiled toothily. "What do you think about the national championship? Or international, like Olympic?"
.
.
.
.
((Years later, Joichirou realized that–yes indeed his son was truly a monster in archery dON'T MESS WITH HIM. EVER. What kind of person who could hit the target exactly in the middle with closed eyes?))
((In the same time he was–of course, very proud. And relieved. No one was brave enough to mess with a person who literally could blind someone with paper airplane and cut anything with plastic ruler))
((He wondered when was Souma learned swordsmanship, though))
"Grandfather, who is this?"
"Hm?" Sanzaemon looked down, eyes narrowed when his eyes met with a familiar photograph on Souma's hand. "...Huh. Where do you find it, child?" he asked kindly, but there was a steel on his tone.
Souma seemed to notice it too. "Arato found it on library's table, Grandfather. Every worker that I asked said that they didn't know them, so I... thought you know him," he said softly.
He later noticed the nervous pinkette beside Souma. Sanzaemon sighed inwardly, ruffling both of their head before picked the photo from his hand. "It seems I have started to go senile," he said. "To think I carelessly left this on the library... how shameful of me."
He raised his hand before two of them could say anything. "Don't worry. I'll tell both of you about... this man." he couldn't help but spat hatefully. He sighed once again, turned back to other way and giving both of them a look. " Will you follow me, children?"
He didn't need to look back again to see their confused face.
"So... let me get this straight," Shirou breathed out heavily. Beside him, a shell-shocked Hisako griped his hand tight, seeking support. He trailed a circle on her hand to soothe her. "That, that man," he growled. "Is Nakamura Azami? Erina's so-called father?"
Sanzaemon nodded with eyes closed. He blew the wisp smoke on his tea before answered, "Yes."
"So he was the one who cut Erina's connection with Alice?"
"Yes," he sighed. "I found a bundle of letter on Azami's former room, which all of them are Alice's letter for Erina."
"The one who abused her in the name of training?"
"The very same."
There was something snapped on his mind.
Shirou opened his mouth to say something, but he quickly shut it as he didn't trust his own voice. He might say something that he would regret in the future. Instead, he glared down at the floor, tried to humor himself by imagining Azami's figure buried deep down–at least a hundred foot under his feet.
Hm, sounded very appealing.
"It's not fair..." Hisako hoarsely whispered, a small tear forming in the corner of her eyes. "Erina-sama didn't deserve it! I know her God's Tongue was very rare and important in cuisine world, but Erina-sama is still an innocent young girl who deserves to be happy and enjoy her childhood!" Tears kept falling down even though she furiously wiped it with her sleeves. "To train her like that, I–I can't–" she rasped, started to sob.
"Arato, ssh. It's okay, it's okay," Shirou pulled her into a one-handed hug, letting her cry on his arm. glanced at Sanzaemon who stared at his reflection on his tea.
"Grandfather," he called softly. "Tell me, is Erina still 'brainwashing'?"
He had enough with things called manipulation and brainwashing. Seriously, no, thank you very much. Too many innocent and beloved ones had fallen into despair because of corrupted enemies. It didn't appease him at all when that Azami guy gave a hollow vibe like that damned priest Kotomine.
He might have to learn the killing zombie method as fast as possible. Better be over prepared rather than not prepared at all.
Damn fake priest.
His mouth quirked upwards. "Maybe, but not as bad as in the past. I think she is started to learn to value any cuisine she tasted, no matter how 'bland' it is."
"Really?" He unconsciously relaxed his tense shoulder. He patted a hiccuping Arato on his arm.
"Yes," Sanzaemon smiled, stared at him.
"And its all thanks to you."
Shirou blinked. Once. Twice. Then responded intelligently,
"–Huh."
In another hand, Sanzaemon laughed. "It is, it is, lad," he said in between his laugh. "Let me tell you something, so hear this well."
"Since you have started befriend Erina, she's started to learn some humility and shrugging off some of her cold persona. Whenever she needs help, you come. Whenever she needs support, you offer it without granted. You don't afraid to clash your head with her even though it's visible her status is much higher than you–no offense, lad. And even when she is in her 'tsundere' mode, you seem to know how to handle her temper," explained Sanzaemon with amusement.
"I think, Erina started to see you as her very best friend."
Silent.
To be honest, Shirou had been expecting that, seeing how different Erina's expression was when he was with her compared to when she was with other people. She's still working with Hisako, though.
But to think her grandfather just said that blatantly...
He could feel a warm happiness blooming inside of him.
"Y-Yukihira...san?"
Souma turned his head. "Yes, Arato?" he answered, slowing his walking pace with her own.
"Um..."
Hisako was silent, tried to form her words in her head. Beside her, Souma waited patiently for her question. He shot a glance at her before eyes wandering back to the paintings on the wall.
Their light step echoed through the wall. Hisako, who was still silent, kept stealing a glance at the boy beside her who was humming a tuneless song.
"Yukihira-san," she started. "I... um, I want to ask you something..."
"What is it?"
She bit her lip, nervous.
"Can I... become closer with Erina-sama like you too?"
Seeing his friend's confused state, Hisako explained, "To be honest, I am jealous. I know you know Erina-sama longer than I, but I..." she paused, ducking her face in embarrassment. "I can't help but want to be close to her like you do, you see. At first, I firmly believed I won't become her equal as I am just her aide. Yet... she let you, someone with no status, to enter her kingdom, seeing you as her equal, her f-f-fri-frie–" she stuttered as her face was getting redder and redder. After several attempts, she finally whispered,
"–friend..."
She averted her eyes, too embarrassed to met his face. What if he made fun of him? Hisako didn't want to find out.
"What are you talking about? Of course you can."
"...Eh?"
Hisako raised her head full of hope, meeting Souma's trusting eyes. "You... You think I can?"
He smiled.
"The question is: why can't you?" he retorted back. "You said that Erina is a girl before she is a Nakiri. Isn't that also mean you're her friend first before being her aide?"
"...That..."
It hit her hard. Why couldn't she? Was it because of her status? Was it because of her way of thinking? Was it because... she thought she couldn't stay on the same ground with Erina because she was only an 'aide'?
To think of it, it was a close-minded thought.
Souma laughed, patted the pinkette. "Now, now. You don't have to dwell on it right now, child. You can do it later, can't you?"
"S-shut it! I'm not a child!" she swatted his hand. "You're in the same age with me, too!"
"Meh, old habit dies hard," he said sagely. Hisako pouted.
"Um, so... you think I can become her friend too, right?" she shyly asked.
"Yeah. Why?"
She averted her eyes again, away from the ever-curious golden eyes. "...Do you know where should I start?"
Souma hummed. "Hmm, I think you should start by calling her without '-sama'."
"What?!" Hisako immediately turned her face. "But that's very impolite! Why should I–"
"You want her to be her friend, not as her another underling, right?" he quickly cut her sentence. He gave her a look before sighed. "I'll be honest here. Erina prefers to be called with her name without any suffix by people she is cherished for. She may don't say anything, but I know she's been waiting for you to call her as 'Erina', not as 'Erina-sama' for ages," he said, meeting his eyes with her own.
Hisako was stunned. She couldn't think any response when she saw that stern golden eyes. That said eyes in a blink changed color to steely gray, but she dissed it as light trick.
"Do not follow her blindly, Arato," he advised softly. "Whenever she makes mistake, remind her. Whenever she is in a tight spot, help her. Whenever she is overwork herself, force her to relax. Don't treat her as a queen–treat her as your equal, rival, friend."
He then grinned toothily, broke any spell that bound her.
"Afterall, that's what I've been doing to her."
Before she could respond, Souma once again already spoke, "Oh, if you think it's too sudden, you can start with baby steps, like... hm..."
He posed a thinking pose, before letting out a small, "Oh!"
"Why don't you call me Souma? As for the reward, I'll call you Hisako. Sounds good?"
.
.
Hisako first thought after that was, he was different.
Even though technically he was a 'commoner', he brought himself like a proud lion. His posture is slouched, yet at the same time stay alerted. She was no expert in martial arts, but she knew he would act fast if something was going on. He didn't act bratty and pranking people like the boys in her clan do, rather he acted kind of mature and his aura was aloof yet warm. Dangerous, yet protecting.
But what attracted her most was his eyes. His golden eyes that blended perfectly with the illuminating sunset's light, hypnotizing anyone who met his eyes. His eyes which twinkled with childish innocent–yet it felt fake fakefakefake–and caring–like how his father stared at her, how strange–also a steel protectiveness. Sometimes it shone in amusement, like he was reminded with inside jokes. Sometimes it dazed slightly, lost in thought. Sometimes too, it told the oldest tale, the wisdom of old soul that she usually saw on the elder clan, not a ten years old boy.
It's hard to get used to call Souma by his given name. It's harder to pull her courage calling Erina without a suffix.
But if it meant to see Erina's bright smile and Souma's approval smirk, she wouldn't complain.
.
.
.
.
((Probably it just her wild imagination, but whenever a dangerous thing happened, in a second his eye would screaming death and kill and pain–painpaindontyoudarethurtthem–, which reminded her with... sword))
((An old weapon, had been forged numerous time, yet its sharpness never dulled. Its purpose never changed–to cut, to kill, to protect))
((How odd, truly he was))
Shirou stared at his left hand, amazed. He was panting heavily, sweat rolled on his temple. He let a shaky breath, and whispered,
"Finally..."
He slowly traced the green line that covered his hand, from fingertips to his elbow. He moved the fingers, flexed, and swing it numerous time. Nothing happened.
A big grin appeared on his face. He grabbed a wooden stick on his desk and positioned himself, gathering all of his courage. Gulping slighty–if the worst case happened, he would tell his dad he fell from the stairs–, with a strong force he tried to hit his hand with it.
The key was 'tried'.
It broke in pieces when it met his skin; like his arm was made of pure steel, not by muscle and bones. He winced when some of the smaller pieces scratched his right hand and scattered on the floor. He huffed. Dad will panic if he sees this.
Shirou released a heavy breath when the glow line died. It was truly exhausting, it's like he'd just been running for entire life. His legs were shaking, and his arm hanging lifelessly like a jello. He clumsily stumbled on his bed, didn't even have any strength left to change his clothes.
It seems my theory is correct, he wordlessly thought. The gaia force is really strong.
After numerous experiments and embarrassing moments, he finally found his answer.
He still could do magecraft–he finally could do [Reinforcement]!–, but it needed most of his strength and concentration just to reinforcement his arm. Possibly because there was no [Mana] in this world, so he used his [Od]to do [Magecraft].
No wonder I'm so tired, he rolled almost lazily.
He might can't [Trace] any weapon without fainting for several days. He didn't even want to find out what would happen if he tried to use his [Reality Marble]. Knocked out for years was a miracle–and his luck was too bad that's not even funny.
A big yawn escaped his mouth as he moved once again, snuggled with the comfortable pillow. Maybe it's possible to use [Structural Analysis], as it doesn't need much prana compared to [Reinforcement]. Hm...
I wonder if it'll be like Erina's God Tongue... he pondered, before falling asleep.
.
.
.
((Later, he would regret it. Utterly, regretted it))
"Souma, are you ready for your forty-ninth loss?"
"What? Do you mean your first loss, Dad?"
Joichirou smirked playfully as he ruffled Shirou's head. "Cheeky brat."
On the other side of the room, two members of Nakiri and one Arato were watching their antics in amusement. Sanzaemon laughed quietly while Erina and Hisako giggled cutely.
"Can we start it now?" said Sanzaemon, still amused. "As much fun as seeing your shenanigans, we have two hungry hellions here."
Erina snorted, wiping her crocodile tears. "My, Grandfather, how can you associate us with a vile creature such as 'hellion'?" she grinned. "It's very insulting to them. We don't deserve to be called that yet."
Hisako grinned, matching with Erina's.
Sanzaemon shook his head, throwing a dirty look at Shirou. "Having fun corrupting my granddaughter, Souma?"
He only smiled innocently. "I don't know what are you talking about, Grandfather."
Joichirou cracked. "Ha! Nice one, kid," he smirked. "If only your cook as good as that."
Shirou didn't say anything, only snickered softly. Oh, if only you know it.
Sanzaemon coughed. "As I said before; can we start?" They nodded, ingredients arranged neatly on their counter. He smirked.
"Forty-ninth cooking battle between Yukihira Joichirou versus Yukihira Souma. Forty-nine to zero, in favor of Yukihira Joichirou. Theme of today's battle is [Fish]. Time is only one hour. Ready?" Both of them griped their knife.
"Start!"
Without wasting time, he cut his fish into the nice fillet. He secretly glanced at his father's figure and his pre-made food, then smirked.
Dad, sorry, he thought, although his face wasn't sorry at all. You won't mind if I steal your recipes, right?
What a great day to use [Structural Analysis].
After one hour, two different plates were presented in front of them. Both Shirou and Joichirou were facing each other fearlessly, although the former kept stealing glance at the latter's food.
This wasn't missed by him. "O-ho? Are you perhaps threatened by my creations, Souma?" he teased.
Rather than remarked back hotly, Shirou only smirked and said, "Oh, no, no. I'm just curious, that's all. It's not your 'failed' experiments, right? It seemed like that."
Horrified, Erina made a distance between her and Joichirou's food while giving him a horror look.
Joichirou grumbled, waved his hand. "Ha, ha. Real funny. Of course not, you brat. Don't make any weird assumption now, will you? I swear, you'll be disappointed for making that remark."
You don't have to, he mentally chided. I already know I'll lose. Grilled fish with mint and yogurt? And an instant yet strong version, on boot. Almost no mistake, even how well the fish cooked was finely calculated. You're truly something, Dad.
He was glad he still could do [Structural Analysis]. It's like Erina's God Tongue, but he only needed to stare at it and another new recipe stored down in his memory. With one or two practice, Shirou's confident he could recreate that dish perfectly.
On the downside, this useful ability shouldn't go public if he wanted to avoid any troubles. Being Erina's friend was already too much hassle–people kept pestering him to introduce them to her–and he didn't want to test his E-ranked luck. It's like tickling a sleeping dragon. Nope, thank you.
"W-well... if this is not Joichirou-ojiisan's weird experiment then it should be fine, right?" Hisako remarked, pulling closer Joichirou's dish. "Why don't we taste it first, Erina? Don't worry, there is a trash bin beside the counter if you want to puke."
Joichirou threw a look at Shirou. The said person was whistling innocently.
Erina giggled. "Okay, okay." She pulled it closer, blushing slightly as her nose meeting the aroma. "Ah, smells nice... What's the name of this dish again, Joichirou-ojiisama?"
"Grilled Fish with Yogurt," he grinned. "And I can assure you, little princess, this dish won't make you puke. Trust me."
"Doubt it." Shirou chirped.
"Oh, come on!" He grumbled in annoy as the girls giggled. "Now, now. Before my son can make another witty remark, please dig in."
"If you say so." Three of them picked their utensils.
"""Thank you for the food."""
Shirou inched closer. There was something nagging on the back of his head rushed him to use [Structural Analysis] on them when they were eating the food. He didn't know where the urge came–from his experience in the past, nothing happened if he did it. It only provided more detailed information about the consumer's opinion for the food, nothing more.
–Well, he knew this world was a little bit different when it came to a dish, though. Suddenly stripped down when eating a good food, became a Japanese fluent speaker for a moment before reverted back to awkward accented Japanese, that twitching in suspicious area, and that expression of...
Mind of steel, mind of steel. Remember Rin, Shirou. Remember her 'Tohsaka Smile' and her Gandr.
Ehem.
All in all, he was playing a dangerous game here. It's either he fulfilled his inner curiosity or he would learn more than he asked for.
Naturally, he picked the first one.
He had seen worse. He had entered a war that should've been named hell and successfully escaped numerous time. He had seen death in every way he could think of.
A scandalous information wouldn't scare him.
This was nothing.
Right?
.
.
.
.
"Aaaaahn!"
The clothes magically exploded. Shredded into little bit piece, at best covered naughty parts.
Shirou stared blankly.
What the actual f–mind of steel, mind of steel, Rin, Gandr, Rin, GANDR–
"KYAAAAHN!"
mIND OF STEEL DAMMIT.
Hello, Aria here!
Again, sorry for the late update. I was busy with school and preparing for the upcoming exam. I swear, all of this number is trying to kill me.
Also, big thank you for Rankin de Merthyr who recommend me to use Grammarly, which is REALLY help me big time. Hands , thank your for thebebb who pointed up the grammar and spelling error that literally littering on the previous chapter. I promise I'll revise it sooner.
NA FGO x Kara no Kyoukai event has started! I am so happy I finally can farm Claw of Chaos for my Cu bros. Also, my ID is 110,184,976, and my account's name is Aria. Feel free to add it! Although I doubt I can help your team effectively. I am a F2P player, and the servants' worth mention is Mordred and Carmilla only. I recently got Jeanne though, but her level is not enough to replace Salter. I need more EXP cards...
P.S.: If you're Indonesian, feel free to review it with our mother's tongue. Saya juga bakal pakai bahasa Indonesia kok, hehe.