Fate/first order derivative
Part II.9
⇒ restart: iteration 28, day 1, early night
"No way." Emiya crosses his arms. "That couldn't have been Sakura. There's no chance."
"Well, yeah, no shit," I retort. I'm in a pretty foul mood. Guess finding out someone I've been trying to save has been killing me with magic for the last several loops has that effect on me. Or at least someone who looks like her, anyway. And seems to have access to her memories.
⇒ you sure about that
Not completely, but it stands to reason. Last time was the first loop I didn't see that shadow beam scour our side of town. And guess who shows up looking for me? Besides - shadow beam, shadow monster, shadow dress. Doesn't take a genius to see the thematic link there.
"Question is, what the hell is borrowing her body? And how? Unless -" I glance at Rin. "You don't have any other sisters you've neglected to mention, right?"
"No." Rin glowers at me. I've held back on some of the details this time to keep them from running off to the rescue without me. Including the contract loophole. Maybe she can tell.
I shake my head. "But anyway, we're getting ahead of ourselves here. We need to take this one problem at a time."
Shirou raises an eyebrow. "Meaning... ?"
"Meaning it's time for someone to come clean with the rest of us. Not to name any names, Saber." I glare at her across the table.
"What?!" Saber looks up, startled. "What do I have to do with any of this?"
"Don't give me that," I snap. "I saw the way you looked at Tracksuit Bro. That wasn't garden-variety hate there. I mean, yeah, granted, he'd just slaughtered all our friends and turned you into a living Phineas Gage reenactment -"
"I was going to say." Saber narrows her eyes.
"But still! There was history there. I could tell." I tilt my head. "So spill. Who is Blondie? What is his deal?"
"Believe it or not, my list of enemies is not so limited that merely describing him as blonde is any sort of assistance." Saber pauses. "Although... did he at any point use the word mongrel?"
I blink. "Yeah, actually..." Weird choice of insult, come to think of it. I mean, I get it if he doesn't want to work blue, but still...
"Oh, God." Saber pinches the bridge of her nose. "I can't believe this..."
⇒ skip forward
"So..." I take a deep breath. "The Gilgamesh. From Sumerian mythology. That guy."
"The King of Heroes, yes," Saber says irritably.
"Who you fought in the Fourth Grail War ten years ago. Which you were also summoned to be a part of. Is that even possible?" I glance at Rin, who just shrugs. "And you didn't think to mention this before because... ?"
"I was summoned hours ago. There is no before for me." Saber harrumphs. "Besides... if it wasn't for this new information, I would otherwise not see how my past is relevant to our present circumstances."
"Okay..." Not sure if I buy that. All the same, that at least explains how she knew stuff about the last war. And why Zouken kept saying she looked familiar. Guess he must've been in town for all of that. "So, wait... who did you serve back then?"
"... the von Einzberns." Saber glares at me, then turns to Shirou. "Rest assured, though, Master - I retain no loyalty towards them. I will not hesitate to act against them in your service. This I swear."
Shirou raises his hands, a pained expression on his face. "It's okay, Saber. I believe you. Really..."
"Back to Ancient Sumerian Guy," I say. "If you fought against each other, why would he keep you alive? Just to rub it in your face, or something?"
"... partly." Saber looks away, obviously fuming. "The child of Ninsun developed a... fixation on me. He seemed to think he could simply add me to his collection. As if I was some abandoned doll he could simply pick up off of the street at his leisure."
"Jilted ex, huh?" I scratch my chin. "I guess that fits..."
There's the sound of a blade being drawn. Then Saber's standing over the table, her arm thrust towards me. I feel the point of her sword press into my trachea. "Perhaps I need to make myself clear," she snarls. "That man is not - and will never be - an ex-anything to me. Apart from, God willing, exsanguinated!
"... what?" She notices that Rin has her hand raised. "... oh." She awkwardly completes the high-five.
"Yisssss," Rin whispers under her breath. "That's why you're Baeber."
"Yeah, okay, sorry, got it," I whimper. "Jealous Internet nice guy. That makes sense too."
"Good." Saber steps off the table and sits back down. I've pushed her pretty far this time, haven't I?
⇒ gee what gave you that impression
Let's double back to a more comfortable subject - for her and my throat. "So... um... what can you tell us about his powers? Like, the teleporting and stuff?"
"The Gate of Babylon." Saber shifts her jaw. "It is said the King of Uruk's storehouses contained every treasure on the face of the Earth. Up to and including, it seems, the Earth itself. He can thus enter and exit the world at any point he chooses, crossing back and forth to his treasury as he desires."
"Jesus Christ," Rin says in disbelief.
"It gets worse. For all his flaws - which I assure you are extensive... the heir of Dumuzid was still the first of all heroes. In a way, we are all his descendants." From Saber's expression, I can tell she is less than fond of the idea. "As such, his gate contains the prototype of every Noble Phantasm in existence, any one of which he can withdraw and use at his leisure. Even my own blade, no doubt, has its match somewhere in his treasury. And that is before we speak of his own weapon, Ea, said to have torn the world asunder in days of old..."
"A-Amazing...," Shirou croaks.
"Holy shit." I have no idea what to say. And here I thought Hercules was overpowered.
"But what's he even doing here?" Rin crosses her arms. "Could he have been summoned as Assassin or Caster or something?"
"It sounds as though he has the same abilities he had as the Archer during the last war." Saber furrows her brow. "But that's impossible. I killed him myself. With my very last attack..."
"Could he have been resummoned afterwards?" Rin asks.
"Without the Grail, you mean?" Saber shifts her eyes. "It's possible, I suppose. Why anyone would do that for him, of all people, is beyond me."
I feel my head start to throb. "Okay, let's bring it back here. We know who he is now. How do we find out more about him?"
"Well... couldn't we just track him down?" Shirou asks. "Not that I'm following all of this... but if he's just been hanging out around here for ten years, he must have gotten up to something, right?"
Trust Shirou to point out the obvious thing I'm missing. I rub my temples. "Right. So detective hats, then. Sure, why not."
⇒ skip forward to: iteration 28, day 4, afternoon
In the days that follow, Rin has Archer comb the city for signs of any other Servants, while she keeps an eye out for Tracksuit Bro using those owl puppet things she has. Lacking anything better to do, I hit the books again. I don't get a whole lot that's useful out of the mythology this time around, though. No exploitable geas or anything. Character-wise, the dude sounds like kind of a dick - big shock - and he seems to have liked the ladies and the beast-men. That's about it.
In the end, it's Shirou making a phone call that does the trick. He just asks his Yakuza contact - who, FYI, is Ms. Fujimura's dad, something that I for one did not know. Turns out there's this blonde Arab-looking guy who runs a nightclub called the Hidden Treasure in the city. He's rich, he's got connections, and under no circumstances should he be messed with. I could've told them that last part.
So we've got a location. Now what?
⇒ raid nightclub with squad
Yeah, I think that's a no-go. Not only are they about to get real busy with Rider and Caster starting tomorrow, but he'd probably be able to tell they're coming. (Servants can sense other Servants, right?) On top of that, Saber's been real touchy since Friday. So bringing her along might not be the best thing for my personal health. Even if she is the only other person who might recognize him.
⇒ fine
⇒ infiltrate nightclub alone
Small issue there, too, chief. It's 20+ only. Meaning that unless Rin has a way to magic me past things, I'm going to need a few days to figure out how to Photoshop myself up a fake ID.
⇒ learning new skills
Sure, I guess. Having a hard time seeing myself putting this on a future resume, though...
⇒ skip forward to: iteration 28, day 6, early night
The bouncer eyes me and my "driver's license" suspiciously. But I guess sneaking into the teacher's lounge to use the laminator yesterday pays off, because he lets me through anyway. I imagine it's not the first scanjob the Hidden Treasure has seen in its time.
⇒ enter
As you might have guessed, the inside of the club is basically my idea of hell. Crowded, hot, way too goddamn loud. They're even playing the sucky kind of techno. It's that group - you know the one I'm talking about, the one that gets all the radio airtime. I'd name names, but frankly I feel like retaining that information would make me less of a person.
⇒ just try to blend in
Pluuuuh. Yeah, me? Still, I guess I do have a lot of experience as a wallflower. I just try and make myself as small as possible. Everyone seems to ignore me. So... success?
I park myself at the end of the bar and try to look around. It's dimly lit, there's this annoying strobe light that kicks in every few seconds, and the music is loud enough to make me think my head's going to explode.
But once my eyes adjust, he's easy enough to spot. There he is, Blondie McTracksuit himself. He's sitting at a table that's elevated slightly above the rest of the VIP section, in between two gorgeous women. Along with...
... hold on. Is that fucking Shinji?
⇒ you're kidding
I wish. Looks like he's having the time of his life, too. He would, too - up above all the little people. It's probably everything he's ever wanted.
⇒ see if you can get a picture with your cell phone
Easier said than done, the way the light is in here. I mentioned the strobe, right? At the very least, I'm going to need to get closer to them.
⇒ try it
Okay. I get up and make worm my way through the dance floor. I hug the edge of the VIP section like I'm heading for the bathrooms, then raise my phone like I just got a text and snap a picture.
The flash goes off, of course. Goddamn it. I wince and brace myself for whatever. But nothing comes.
Okay, take the win. I head for the bathrooms. Mission accomplished, I think? Now all I need to to do is pretend to go in, and then I can get out of this hellhole -
"Hey!" A big gorilla of a dude - wearing the same kind of black shirt the bouncer outside had - grabs my shoulder.
⇒ shit
Shit.
⇒ skip forward
I hit the concrete hard. My cheek throbs in that way that suggests I picked up a scrape there and it's bleeding. Really hope that's it for tonight, but I wouldn't put money on it.
Surprisingly, it's not the gorilla who threw me out into the alley behind the club. Instead, I'd found myself transferred to one of Tracksuit Bro's arm candy, this punk rock-looking white girl in this little gold dress and long black opera gloves. Guess she heads up the muscle around here. I cautiously pick myself up off the ground. "Sorry," I mumble again.
"Tell me... who gave you permission to take my picture, little mongrel? Who said you were worthy of so much as looking at me?"
... aw, crap. I turn to see Gilgamesh standing over me, that knife-like smirk on his face.
"Suh." I swallow. "S-sorry, dude. Really. I just liked the way the light looked, I swear."
"Hup up up." He raises a finger. "Now... who said you were worthy of speaking to me?"
Punk Rock Girl punches me in the head. I go down like a sack of bricks. Fucking fuck.
⇒ notice details in spite of pain
Of which there is a lot, by the way. (Gah. Is Punky Brewster packing brass knuckles under those gloves or something?! Or am I just a wuss you know what don't answer that.) Looking up, my vision swimming, I don't see a whole lot that seems relevant here. I notice stuff about the eye candy, I guess.
⇒ of course you do
You can snark when one of them isn't beating the shit out of me, okay? Punk Rock Girl has short pink hair and these big mirror shades. I'm shocked she can see anything through the things. She's got a decent amount of muscle on her arms, like she's a bodybuilder or a MMA fighter or something. The other harem member's a lot more conventional. She looks like she came straight out of a idol competition, with just a hint of the whole desperate post-innocence phase. Turquoise streak in her hair. She just clings to Gilgamesh's arm, clad in the exact same outfit as Punk Rock Girl, a carefully neutral expression on her face. Guess she must be the dandere.
"And again with the arrogance." Gilgamesh sounds amused. "Who gave you permission to stare at my property, wretch?" Punk Rock Girl kicks me in the side. Gahhhhhhgh.
⇒ "property"
⇒ because that's not creepy or anything
Preaching to the choir. Neither woman says a thing, though. No disturbing implications there or anything, no sir.
⇒ try to say something maybe
He just said I didn't have permission to talk, remember? He's been wearing the same smirk this entire time. This is obviously just a power trip for him.
"Hey, hey, Gil," another voice says. "Let's not get too carried away here."
Oh goddamn it it's Shinji.
⇒ speaking of power trips
"I think I recognize this guy." Shinji grins. "He goes to my school. Class B, right? I'm sure he didn't mean any harm. How about we let this slide, just this once?"
"Oh, very well." Gilgamesh sounds bored. "I suppose that I can simply gut him like a fish if I ever lay my eyes on him again. Come." He snaps his fingers. Punk Rock Girl immediately returns to his side and takes his arm, like he's the Fonz or some shit, I guess. They turn and go back into the club.
"Now, how about that, pal?" Shinji leers down at me. "Aren't you lucky that you know me, Shinji Matou? Isn't it fortunate I was here? I just saved your life, you know. You'll remember that you owe me from now on, won't you?"
Oh, I owe you something, jackhole. Right now, though, I've got no choice but to grit my teeth. "Yeah," I mumble. "Thanks."
Or at least that's what I try to say. It suddenly occurs to me as I finish that there's quite a bit of blood in my mouth. I spit it onto the ground, and... oh. Um. Yeah. Speaking of teeth... that's a tooth, isn't it. One of mine. Just lying there on the concrete.
"Oof." Shinji tisks in faux sympathy. "Better get that looked at, dude. My friends, well... let's just say they can play a little rough."
Grinning like a smug baboon, he walks back into the club.
⇒ fucking hell
It's okay, I tell myself. It'll reset in the next loop. All the same, I sweep up the bit of bone and shove it into my pocket. (Somehow doubt they'd give me a glass of milk or water to put it in if I went back inside and asked.) Besides, it's good. It's all good.
Because in the midst of all that preening and ego fluffing, none of them actually thought to break or steal my phone.
I get on my feet and stumble my way down the alleyway. Up until someone grabs me up by the back of my collar. Oh, what fucking now -
AUTHOR'S NOTES
And Tom's way-beyond-average American pop culture knowledge continues. Is him knowing about Happy Days a bridge too far? Let history be my judge.
Do Japanese idol singers also go through the whole Britney Spears/Miley Cyrus tabloid over-sexualized phase? What even happens to idol singers after they get into their twenties? I genuinely have no idea.
