The flowing red cape.
The wind shuffling through seemingly bleached hair.
The tall encompassing frame before me.
A fuzzy feeling fills the heart.
No, rather a nostalgic feeling.
It has been too long.
Chapter 2: Confrontation -2-
The new moon persisted across the blackened sky.
It was only nine but the entire area was as quiet as in the wee hours of the morning. No one now dared to walk around outside for the creepy rumours of strange happenings.
In short, there was a hidden curfew set in the minds of the residents here.
The air was as still as the sound of the surroundings.
A cold breeze blew across an apartment block, causing a twig to scratch against the concrete floor. Despite the soft sound, the stillness of the air amplified its decibels to an audible range.
The sound of someone approaching was much louder, of course.
Without any bright illumination around, the figure stopped short of the apartment's front, looking up at the verandas decorating its facade.
There was no way to identify who this person was. The figure was cloaked in a brown hood of an unknown material, to the extent of having the face concealed as well.
This person could pick up the footsteps of yet another person approaching. From the glass door of the entrance, another dark figure emerged.
He was wearing the signature red cape on his back, fastened together by a string resting on his chest.
This was a servant.
And that means he was not a human but just a spirit in materialised form. As what the figure evaluated.
'I don't perceive you as an ally.'
The silence was broken with the voice of the man.
Archer stood before the hooded figure.
'Heh.'
The gesture made by the other party had a rather high pitch. This person could be a child or a woman, as Archer deduced.
A bright apparition began to materialise in Archer's arms. As the moment went by, it took the form of a bow.
The servant pointed the summoned bow in the direction of the hooded person, with a bright sharp arrow preparing to be fired at his opponent.
'What is your intention here?'
'So you're Archer I see.'
He could sense a smile being drawn on the person's face.
The other party was strangely calm though it was about to be attacked.
'I ask of you again,' he demanded again. 'What is your intention here?'
The figure remained silent, simply standing before him.
Archer's arrow was glowing but it could not illuminate directly into the hood of the person to see who it was.
'If you are remaining silent,' he prepared his bow for firing. 'Then remain silent for ever.'
And the white-haired guardian released his hold.
The glowing arrow accelerated, approaching its target.
The hooded figure raised its palm. There was no sign of anything forming into a shield.
As it hit the figure, a bright flash ensued. In moments, the flash was gone.
Contrary to Archer's expectations, the figure was not defeated. In fact, in one of its hands, the glowing arrow was held on to.
'I'm impressed with this, Archer.'
The sarcastic tone filled the servant's ears.
The weapon held in the hooded person's hands was near, illuminating the jaw of the person.
With Archer's sharp eyes, he could see that his opponent was definitely a woman. But it was difficult to tell under the darkness of night, especially under a new moon.
'I suppose this is yours then.'
The cold voice of the other person was followed by a throw of the glowing arrow back at the servant.
The retrograde arrow flew back at its maker at top speed, almost at the same level. Dodging the arrow, Archer jumped to one side, resulting in the resultant flash of light as the weapon disappeared.
This person here was not just any normal opponent, as what Archer judged.
He stood directly metres away from the hooded figure.
Raising his bow again, the servant pointed another arrow at his opponent. This time, it was not just any of his normal arrows.
The arrow was black but shining.
Hrunting was a black sword that could be used for the maximum accuracy in hitting the target. When used as a Broken Phantasm, it would simply break through anything in order to simply hit its target.
'Heh.'
The same gesture came from his opponent.
He pulled back the sword further.
'I'm not here to battle with you,' the person spoke suddenly.
Silence ensued.
It was interrupted by yet another cold breeze blowing leaves across the concrete grey ground, causing their sides to scratch across it.
'I see you're wasting precious mana,' the figure continued. 'If your master dies, you will have no more mana to depend on though you probably can survive on your own for a while.'
'I ask again,' Archer responded. 'What is your intention?'
'There is going to be an interesting development of events here,' the hooded one responded without answering the question. 'I can only spoil you with one thing. Your master is quite in danger.'
'That is impossible,' Archer doubted it. 'Her life force is still well.'
'Then why do you think I'm here?'
A soft chuckle came from behind the darkness in the hood.
Realising what was going on, Archer released the sword from his bow. The sword-turned-arrow glowed red, pushing its way towards the figure.
At full speed, the arrow pierced the clothing, going through it. It was as if the arrow had simply gone through a mere sandbag.
The sword ended its flight, hitting the wall of another building.
Archer lowered his bow, looking at his opponent.
What was left of his opponent was just a heap of the clothing it had just worn.
His opponent could have materialised into spirit form to avoid the attack.
But it was way too fast to do that process to avoid Hrunting's attack.
He made a few steps, arriving just before the pile. Bending down, he picked up the hood. As he lifted it up in his hand, a piece of paper fluttered down to the ground.
It was a small piece of paper in the shape of a human, with a single tear across it.
'Shikigami, eh?' He muttered.
Taking the shikigami in the other hand, he turned it over.
There was a few vague writings on it.
The most prominent of it were three Kanji characters written on it.
The characters had an obscure nature and it was difficult to pronounce it.
Putting the torn shikigami in one pocket, he jumped up into the air, towards where he could feel his master's aura.
Now, he could tell that his master's aura was not looking good.
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La la la la la la...
The dark-haired girl hummed to herself, standing before the older brown-haired girl.
Her fingers moved up to the lips of the older one.
Those fingers were smeared with a red liquid.
Fresh blood, to be exact.
Slowly, she painted the lips of the spectacled girl who had been rooted to the ground.
Shirasaki was not shaking but she did not understand why she could not move.
Deep down she was in fear but yet she felt she could actually run away now.
She could only feel the intense smell of blood.
And this little girl here was painting blood on her lips like it was lipstick.
Before long, the girl had finished smearing the fresh crimson blood on Shirasaki's lips.
'Yay!'
The girl smiled at the bespectacled girl.
'You look beautiful, Onee-chan,' she complimented.
The blood on Shirasaki's lips felt warm.
It was the blood of someone who had bled not long ago.
Yet, the intense, puking smell of the liquid was filling up her nose with its odours.
Now, the other girl began to paint her lips with her own fingers too.
'I have no more of it,' she looked curiously at her finger as she bent down. In the darkness, the girl was seen to be touching something on the floor.
There was a stream of blood on the stone floor.
Retouching the bloodied ground with her finger, the blue-black haired girl resumed painting her lips with the bright red material.
She turned behind, revealing her bright red lips too.
'Let's pretend to be sisters, Onee-chan!'
The girl held both of Shirasaki's hands.
The brown-haired girl could now realise that the amber eyes of the other girl seemed to be void of any feeling.
She felt as though she was looking in the eyes of a doll.
The girl tiptoed out, preparing to touch her lips with her 'sister'.
She drew closer.
Shirasaki had a bad feeling of what was going to happen.
In a sudden turn of events, the younger girl jumped a step back, separating from Shirasaki.
An bright flashing arrow zipped past the distance between them.
Shirasaki looked at the direction of the arrow.
A familiar, white-haired man was standing on the top of the nearby wall, with a bow in his hands.
'Archer...?'
'Miyuki-san,' the servant responded. 'Move to the side of the wall.'
He raised his bow again, forming another flashing arrow to fire at the little girl again.
'Onii-chan is bad,' the girl stood firmly on the ground, looking up at Archer. 'He wants to spoil the fun between Hazuki and Onee-chan!'
'Hazuki...?'
Shirasaki finally learnt the name of the little girl.
'The one who is spoiling the fun is only you, monster,' he replied coldly, releasing the arrow upon her.
Hazuki dodged the arrow again, jumping a few metres away from it.
'Onii-chan is bad,' she responded. She looked back at Shirasaki.
'Hazuki will come again to play with Onee-chan,' she produced a smile on her small, white face.
And with that, the dark-haired girl jumped into the darkness, disappearing in a sudden.
The red servant jumped down from the wall, just arriving next to Shirasaki.
'Miyuki-san,' he started off. 'I need your permission to pursue that girl.'
'It's okay,' Shirasaki shook her head. As she closed her lips, some of the smeared blood entered her mouth, causing her cough and spit it out in disgust.
The spit blood, however, went onto Archer's black pants, creating an interesting red stain contrast against the black texture.
'Oh shit!' She gasped, looking at the mess she had done.
'We have to get away from here now,' he ignored her response, sighing a little. He turned his head to the source of the intense smell, knowing what lied there but it was better for the police to handle it.
'I have to call the police!'
She took out her handphone, only to have it be snatched away by her servant.
'Don't be stupid!' Archer answered back in an irritated tone. 'What would they do if they found you here?'
'That's right...'
She knew that she was too panicky in handling things. And at the most inappropriate time, she had chosen to call the police.
Shirasaki lowered her hand, placing the handphone back in the pocket in her brown coat.
'We have to get away from here,' he repeated his words. 'It won't be good if another magical entity showed up again.'
He received his answer with a nod from Shirasaki.
As Shirasaki began to walk, she felt faint.
She placed her hand to her forehead. No, she was not running a temperature.
Somehow, the ordeal had made her feel weak, in addition to the intense smell around that was weakening her constitution.
But however, she felt a sudden force from behind lift her up. Before she knew it, she could see Archer's face up close to hers.
Hers eyes widened, regaining her consciousness fully again.
He was carrying her with both his arms.
'What are you doing?' She demanded.
'I can sense your power a little weakening,' he replied to her. A smirk was written on his face.
'Put me down.'
'This is the most efficient way to bring you back.'
'I say put me down!' She screeched at him.
He abided, putting her down on her feet again.
As soon as Shirasaki's feet touched the ground, her head began to spin again. It was the wrong timing.
'Nevermind, Archer,' she looked away, her forehead resting on her palm. He was about to carry her up again.
The spectacled girl know she was blushing yet she didn't want to show it to her so-called servant.
'Just carry me on your back,' she turned back to him after pulling herself together.
'If that is the best way, I'll do it,' he responded. The servant made a short bent, allowing her to come onto his back, locking her arms around his neck.
Shirasaki was not a very short person but she could feel the height difference seen from Archer when he regain his posture again.
But nevertheless, she wanted to simply get away from the area.
Archer began to walk.
He was walking at a normal speed, despite her weight pushing onto his back.
This so-called servant must be very strong, as she concluded.
Soon, she felt exhausted by what had happened and fell asleep on his shoulder.
It was just the most awkward thing for her to do.
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Shirasaki regained her consciousness, still lying on Archer's back.
It must have been a few minutes that she was knocked out from.
But somehow she felt better now.
Looking ahead, she could tell that she was near her apartment.
'Archer.'
He stopped in his tracks.
'Put me down. I'm feeling better.'
The servant obliged and bent down to allow her to touch the ground again.
She walked in front of him, stopping for a while.
'People will have other ideas if they see us like this.'
Without turning around, she could tell that he was agreeing with her.
On a dark night, the neighbourhood was quiet.
Her apartment was also dark.
All of the residents must have gone to sleep.
Only the corridor lights lining the apartment were only lit.
She made her way up the staircase to her floor.
Despite the energy needed to climb up the stairs, Archer managed to climb it up with no extra effort.
Shirasaki approached her unit, noticing that there was someone at the corridor again.
The person was probably a woman, as seen by the shape of the figure.
The woman was smoking. Taking out a new cigarette, she lit the lighter, burning the tip of it and placed it in her mouth before breathing out the smoke.
She approached the figure.
The person turned around to reveal her red hair and glasses.
'Professor Moriyama?!'
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Shirasaki walked into the living room with a tray in her hand. And on the tray, there were clay mugs full of warm green tea.
'Please have some tea,' she replied politely to her professor who was sitting by the table.
On the opposite side, Archer was seated as well.
As Shirasaki had realised minutes earlier, she did not seem to see if Archer had ate or drank for the past time.
Whether or not he needed to eat or drink, it was out of common courtesy to serve some tea.
'Thank you, Shirasaki-san.'
'Archer, you don't drink tea?'
'Servants don't need food or water,' the Professor interrupted. 'It's like an extra snack to them.'
'Professor...?'
Moriyama looked at her, putting down the clay mug on the table surface.
'I guess I forgot to tell my purpose for my visit.'
Shirasaki sat down next to the Professor, taking a sip from her own clay mug.
'I guess you didn't know why your servant came to you.'
The brown-haired student shook her head.
'Do you know of the Holy Grail War?'
'A legend told by someone I know,' Shirasaki answered vaguely. True, someone had ever told her this story as it was an exciting heroic epic.
'I see that you know,' the other woman gave a small smile. 'Only that it wasn't a legend.'
'Wait,' Shirasaki got up, going over to one coat hung by a hook. She dug into its pockets. And soon, her emerged with a crumpled piece of paper.'
'I couldn't really read this writing,' she handed the paper to the Professor. Taking the letter, the Professor fixated her eyes onto it. 'All I knew is that it was weird.'
'Professor Yaguchi?'
'That was the person who told me about the Holy Grail War.'
'I see,' she folded the paper, resting it on the table. 'As expected of him to know about it.'
Moriyama turned to look at Archer who was trying to drink the tea. From the look of his expression, he was not very happy with the green tea Shirasaki had made.
'Archer,' she spoke. 'What do you remember of your true identity?'
'My master's power was incomplete,' he replied formally. 'I have only fragments of my memories of who I am.'
'I see.'
'But I don't have any power to begin with!' Shirasaki retorted.
'Every human is born with a mage circuit,' the Professor turned to look at the girl again. 'And most of them go about their daily lives without realising that they have it.'
'Then why doesn't magic exist out publicly in the real world?'
'Magic is dangerous business,' she answered. 'A long time ago, the Association of Mages decided that it was too dangerous that it should be kept a secret. Any mage who dared to expose its truth to the public would be silenced.'
'But,' she adjusted her glasses, knowing Shirasaki was going to rebutt. 'To tell a few is okay as long as it does not spread out as gossip.'
'Why did you say then that Professor Yaguchi knew about this Holy Grail War?'
Moriyama took off her glasses for a moment and took a short sip on the tea.
Suddenly, Archer stood up.
Shirasaki looked at his sudden reaction.
'This is not tea,' he asserted. 'I'll show you what is real tea.'
And the servant gathered the cups onto the tray, bringing them with him to the kitchen.
Shirasaki made a small smile. Though he was quite cold and rather the weird person, he did have some points which made him interesting too.
'What did Yaguchi tell you about the Holy Grail War?'
The professor put back on her glasses.
'He told me...' Shirasaki's voice trailed off as she tried to remember. '...of an epic of magicians and their familiars in a war to get a special prize called the Holy Grail.'
'It did seem like an epic,' she commented. 'Only it was a very real epic.'
And she took out yet another cigarette from a box in her pocket.
'No smoking please, Professor Moriyama,' Shirasaki exclaimed suddenly, knowing she did not want the smoke to engulf the entire room.
'I'll pass then,' she replied, putting away the unlit stick. She took a deep breath.
'There should have been no more Holy Grail wars,' she continued her story. 'It should have ended with the Fifth a hundred years ago.'
'A hundred years ago?'
'That was in AD 2004. Which is exact since the current year is AD 2104. The winner of that war was a boy named Emiya Shirou.'
She turned to look at Archer who was preparing something. It seemed that he was not bothering to hear the conversation.
'He destroyed the Holy Grail for good, as said. But two decades around, the Holy Grail came back.'
'It came back?'
'No doubt. Right at the same place, Fuyuki City.'
'Fuyuki City?'
'It doesn't exist now in the records of the non-magical world,' Moriyama had a solemn look on her face. Archer brought the tray over to the table, showing that there were three tea cups on it.
He distributed the tea cups, slowly placing one each before each person.
'Archer, where did you get these tea cups from...' she looked at the tea-cup, not remembering how she had them in the first place.
Her mind suddenly had a flashback on where these teacups were from.
'Those are branded teacups!' She exclaimed at Archer. He had a proud expression, as if the tea he had made was a masterpiece.
It was a hobby to collect branded teacups such as Hermes, but it was not normal to use them as daily necessities as they had the purpose of being decoration.
She had received the teacups from a certain someone years ago after helping out in some voluntary work.
That person had to be a philanthropist, as she thought then.
'Don't be materialistic,' he folded his arms. 'Try the tea.'
Puffing her cheeks up, Shirasaki picked up the teacup, putting the side of it to her lips. The warm liquid slowly flowed into her mouth.
There was a certain feeling of bliss feeling her heart.
The tea was not hot and it was sweet yet not in excess of it.
To think Archer was an accomplished tea maker, as Shirasaki thought.
Professor Moriyama placed the tea-cup down, having tried the tea. Her eyes were now in the direction towards the white-haired guardian.
'This is good tea, Archer,' she praised. 'You have done quite a good job as a servant.'
'Thank you, Moriyama-san,' he answered back modestly.
'It comes to no surprise since you were once in the Fifth Holy Grail War,' she had a sly look in her eyes. 'The servant of Tohsaka Rin.'
'Tohsaka Rin...?'
The professor now turned to look at the spectacled girl.
'That's right,' she smiled. 'One of the participants of the Fifth War and the one who managed to subdue the Sixth one.'
'Subdue...?'
'The Sixth Holy Grail came back in a more violent and unorthodox form,' she cleared the air of doubts. 'Tohsaka Rin, the one who sealed it.'
She looked back at the servant, who had now seemed to look more interested yet he was still calm about it.
'Tohsaka Rin sealed the Sixth Holy Grail, vanishing with it alongside Fuyuki City. No one now knows where she is.'
'No one know...?'
'Though she sealed it, some magicians believe that her seal has waned, causing strange occurrences over Japan. And perhaps, the Holy Grail is back to cause more havoc again.'
'So the legend is now reality?'
'You could say so,' Moriyama answered. 'And one of the signs is that of you summoning Archer.'
She looked at the clock, noticing that the hour hand was pointing to the top. It was already past midnight.
The professor got up.
'Professor, you're leaving...?'
'I have to go now,' she replied back. 'I can't really ascertain Archer's link with you for now but I'll find it out for you.'
'You're not involved in this war?'
'I won't really disclose that,' she began to walk towards the entrance without turning back. 'But come and see me tomorrow in the afternoon at university.'
She turned around to face Shirasaki.
'Thank you for the patronage anyway,' she bowed before her student. As a form of courtesy, Shirasaki bowed too before her professor.
Opening the entrance door, the cold currents of air blew in. Professor Moriyama took a step outside, feeling the coldness and stillness of the outside air which was in contrast to Shirasaki's warm apartment.
'Goodnight, Shirasaki-san.'
'Goodnight, Professor.'
And the door to the apartment shut close.
The professor made her way down the corridor. A dark shadow approached her from behind.
She was not unfazed by it.
In fact, she knew that shadow.
'I see you decided to spoil her with everything,' the shadow spoke.
'The new master will eventually find out sooner or later,' Moriyama took out her cigarette and lit it, blowing out the smoke through her nostrils again.
The shadow receded, leaving Moriyama to walk down the barely-lit stairs.
On a nearby rooftop, there was another figure nearby who could or could not be probably sensed by the Professor.
The sky was dark, leaving most of his face uncovered.
His mouth was twisted into a small smile.
'So it begins, I see.'
Those were the only words he muttered out for the moment.
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The clock in Shirasaki's apartment made its way to three or four in the morning.
Fast asleep in her futon, the girl was tucked in it warmly. The next day was going to be yet another busy day for her.
Outside in the living room, her servant was not resting.
Servants did not need to rest unless they were severely injured.
For an Archer class, they attacked from a distance, usually rendering them the least damage from others.
The dark-skinned man leaned against the wall, looking at the night sky though it had no moon illuminating the sky.
In his hand, there was the crushed shape of the shikigami that was dropped by the seemingly defeated hooded figure earlier on.
The words on it were written in a similar yet unfamiliar way.
Somehow, he had to find out what it meant.
There was no way that hooded person came to the apartment by chance.
Deep down, he could feel that something was soon to happen.
There was something wrong about this city, Tokyo.
Perhaps, the Seventh Holy Grail War was about to start.
TO BE CONTINUED