Chapter 1: The Rallying Call of Light and Darkness
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Fuyuki became tainted upon the conclusion of the fifth instance of the Holy Grail War after the destruction of its physical vessel. Through conjecture based on the behavior of the Fuyuki Holy Grail thus far, the speculation exists that the grail's contents spilled over and was absorbed into Fuyuki's ley line. It is possible to speculate that the operation of the Greater Grail would manifest even more strongly in the area surrounding Fuyuki in the near future.
At its current stage, it is difficult to gauge the depth and the extent of its influence, but there are signs to indicate that the corruption is spreading beyond the initial point of contact. The rate has been steady, but had grown more vigorous approximately in the last two years.
Based on the account of Emiya Shirou, the victor of the fifth Holy Grail War, the attempt to eradicate the grail and its contents through exposure to a powerful energy source seemed marginally successful. The result indicates the need to explore the use of conceptual weapons in destroying the Grail. A prompt, if not immediate, response is advised.
With this, I will conclude my report.
- Excerpt from the report of Caren Hortensia, minister of Fuyuki Church, supervisor of the Holy Grail War
Shinto, Fuyuki City
1.04 AM, November 2011 (Seven Years Later)
The confined, abandoned building came alive with gnashing teeth and a swirling blade, the most vivid sign of life that the 4-storey Ishimura Trading Company seen since the hubbub of construction.
Locked in the heat of battle was Emiya Shirou, the unlikely victor of the Fifth Holy Grail War. Both his hands maintained a relaxed grip on the hilt of a katana.
The third floor of the building, deserted after imminent bankruptcy, served as a battleground between a man and a pack of hounds, each with glaring red eyes and inky black flesh. Foul black liquid oozed from their cavities, emitting sickly fumes. They were desperately hungry, both for prana and flesh, but the few hasty ones that were cut down gave warning to the rest that the man they had lured into the abandoned building was not there to satiate their hunger.
The slightly curved blade drew deadly arcs in the air, making quick work of the beasts that dared approached. Three bleeding lumps laid dying at his feet as warning to the others. The beasts ceased their independent assault as their earlier confidence was replaced by apprehension.
Likewise, Shirou restrained himself from making a headlong charge into their midst. Recklessness was counterproductive to the objective he had in mind. Using the small window of opportunity, he made a quick scan of the pack, but the darkness and pungent odor made it different to search for his mark.
A shrill howl from the center of the horde put an end to the standoff.
Both ears perking at the sound, Shirou made swift note of the white-maned alpha that had given the attack order. Its roar emboldened the rest to overcome fear and initiate the offensive.
Multiple hounds rushed in at once, a few from his front and even more from his blind spots, but they proved to be no cause for concern. Many of his recent fights had made him learn to hold his ground while being outnumbered.
Using reinforcement magecraft to overclock his mental processes, Shirou's shortened his reaction time to a superhuman level. Movements passed by him as if watching the world in slow motion. Exploiting the subtle lapses when each beast entered his sword range, he cut down the first in midair leap. Two more received deadly wounds as he rushed through the opening.
Shirou dashed off to the side, three more still hot on his heels. Just before reaching a dead end, he spun 180 degrees and ducked, leaving the beasts crashing into the solid wall headfirst. Stunned and dazed, they became easy prey for his flurry of slashes.
The ensuing fight became simple with the wall covering his blind spot. Head and limbs flew as the remainder of the pack followed on the offense.
Deeming that their all-out assault had failed, the beasts opted for the alternate approach. Frantic barking erupted from the alpha. The pack scattered, leaving only a few to remain for distraction, as the rest fled the scene.
Bodies poured down the stairwell like raging rapids. By the time that the two vanguards were properly dealt with, the entire floor was clear. All the creatures that weren't dead or dying had at that point disappeared.
"Don't screw with me, you bastards! Like hell I'm going to let you kill anyone! "
Realizing that his mark had made a swift escape, a sense of urgency spurred Shirou to action. The time and effort invested to make this hunting night possible were about to be wasted. Too much was at stake to be calling off the hunt from this unexpected obstacle alone.
Two reinforced legs carried him across the unpaved concrete floor. Shirou picked up the pace as he reached the staircase, launching himself over multiple steps at a time. He had no intention of heading downstairs to engage them in a game of high-stakes tag.
Not just yet.
Their bestial form made them swift on their feet, faster than his human feet even when augmented with reinforcement spell, but there was one thing they could never outrun. Many had tried, and just as many had fallen prey to the tip of his arrow.
A blast of cold wind greeted him as a kick dislodged the bolted door leading to the rooftop. Without breaking momentum, Shirou dashed onward and stomped down to a stop just before he would teeter off the edge. Quite luckily the unfinished building had yet to install any permanent railings that would've foiled his plans.
His tattered and sewn work gloves were removed along the way. The padded gloves was meant to stave off the late-November cold, not firing an arrow. When firing at such a distance, an archer was required to have that nimble fingers control.
"Trace on."
Shirou retrieved the composite bow that now slung across his back, checked the string's tautness and readied his stance. An arrow of solid prana materialized in his right hand.
Darting shadows scattered from the base of the building towards all directions. He counted six, but there could've been more that had used different exits. It didn't matter though. Those small fries didn't matter.
His well-trained eyes gauged the depth and distance. His right hand rose up to feel the wind.
Experience compelled him to focus all murderous attention to the one particular hound, the alpha of the pack. The beasts had derived their pack mentality from it. With it dead, the remaining ten or so would break into solitary actions. For the time being, that should be enough to deal with the possibility of mass casualties should the pack develop the brazenness to descend upon the more populous part of the city.
Holding in the air after a sharp breath intake, Shirou steadied his left hand and pulled the string, his aim deliberately lowered to adjust for the target's movement and the tailwind. The sequence of movements from the time of kyudo practices directed his arm from the bowstring pulled and his grip released.
Twang!
The arrow flew straight through, and within a single breathless moment a howl erupted from the darkness. The hound's bulky form skidded along the sidewalk, but a swift recovery kept it afoot. Its movement was reduced to an erratic gait, causing it to teeter between the edge of the road and the sidewalk like those drunkards that gathered at the corners of Miyama shopping street. Still, it managed to slip out of sight into a distant building.
"Talk about rotten luck…" Shirou clucked his tongue. He had failed to hit the vitals. A sudden gust of wind altered the trajectory of his arrow and left it embedded a few centimeters off target.
"That Tohsaka…" he spat the name as if it was cursed"…Never here to help when things got difficult."
It just couldn't be helped. His arrows lacked the same destructive potential of Rin's jewel magecraft, which would have already pulverized the beast to smithereens.
Though trained in both kendo and kyudo, Shirou had strongly preferred to take the beast down with an arrow during this hunting night. It would have been a perfect crime, without him having to even enter the scene. The carcass and the steel-tipped arrowhead would disintegrate into fragments of prana long before any unfortunate passerby would stumble upon them. None of that was possible after the injured beast had retreated to hide in one of the abandoned building.
"Time to do it the hard way…" Shirou grumbled.
Expelling a tuft of frozen breath, Shirou vaulted over the wall and down the 4-storey height. The internal flow of prana was redirected into the pathway opening to strengthen both his legs against the impact that would otherwise left the legs of an ordinary man broken. The reinforcement spell had fortunately allowed him to have graduated from that stage. Seven years was a long time to be perfecting only one of the two main spells in his arsenal.
Over the years, Shirou had more than less grown to be more adept in his control of this molten-steel-like flow of energy that circulated within him. Prana, as he later came to learn its name, was one of the concepts Rin had apparently tried to drill into his head, but ultimately failed.
"Guess idiocy is an incurable disease." Her words still left a pricking thorn in his self-esteem.
He was never the type to learn spells and incantations by theory; allowing his body to become more familiar with practical techniques during combat tended to be the better way to go.
His lower limbs were driven down to the concrete below without harm, being strengthened to possess the resilience of steel pillars. He broke the fall without needing to roll forward to dissipate the force. His steps retraced the alpha's escape route, still with a bow in hand in case of the need to fend off any surprises.
He could afford to be bolder during these hunting nights. There was little to fear of being discovered when only criminals and drug-addicts would be the only wanderers out during the early morning hour in Fuyuki. Even then, most of them would know better than to choose this desolate strip as a rendezvous point.
Repeated disasters had left many buildings in this particular area of the Shinto district uncompleted. Neither the contractors nor the owners were immune to the unfortunate accidents that happened all too often. Those who did not fall victim soon became convinced that their investment would be safer elsewhere.
Murders, abductions, mysterious disappearances, and conspiracy theories; all found their place in the recent local news. Humanity's hunger for gruesome stories just could not be satiated and there always seemed to be news material in the making out in the abandoned part of Fuyuki.
Shirou safely reached the other building, no ambush springing up along the way. The rest of the pack seemed to have chosen survival as their top priority. Their strategy was to limit casualties. They knew their hunter could only pursue one/
The door-less frame at the entrance stood like an opening between demonic jaws, beckoning him. The distinctive raw carnivorous stench mixed with the sickly sweet fume of Grail's corruption stung his nostrils and grew more overwhelming with every step. Darkness obscured the interior of the building, leaving every possible gruesome detail to his imagination.
The building was their lair, undoubtedly.
A pair of canine eyes might be able navigate its way in the dark, but a pair of typical human eyes sported no chance of copying the feat. But that limitation only applied to those humans who could be labelled as 'ordinary'.
"Trace on…"
Shirou mumbled the spell aria after a quick glance around to ensure the absence of any hostile presence. A split second of self-hypnosis was all that he needed to draw the prana from within his circuits. The same conceptual mystery, performed when taking apart appliances, did have its practical uses in analyzing the structure of the battle site.
His consciousness traversed across the building, analyzing the structures down in detail. Anomalies such as tufts of fur and fresh gashes across the ground floor were noted, but so far nothing appeared that resembled a half-eaten carcass. The flock must've only been transformed recently before they had time for their first hunt. The realization stabilized his quickened pulse. It was generally unpleasant to see any form of living creature falling prey to the Grail's taint, but the severity just multiplied when they started claiming additional lives.
Alternatively, he could have reinforced his eyesight to operate in a low-light environment, but it sure didn't hurt to map out all potential escape routes and ambush sites before proceeding.
The projection spell consumed another second to construct a functioning sword. He just didn't feel like testing his luck against the alpha beast when armed with only the blunt end of a bow. After numerous mistakes, he eventually came to learn that one was never supposed to give any quarter in combat. When lives were at stake, carelessness was not a thing that could be afforded. A cautious man was the one to walk out of a battlefield alive.
Shirou advanced with a still-fresh blueprint of the location in mind, eyes peeled for an incoming ambush. He treaded lightly, taking momentary backward glances.
First floor…cleared.
Just as Shirou seemed to lax his guard, the hound dived down like a jet-black torpedo from above, fangs all bare and gleaming. The ledge above made for a prime hiding place. All along, it had been waiting for the prime opportunity to strike.
Though badly beaten and outmatched, the cornered animal was also a fearsome one. The dogged determination to live developed his opponent from the mentality of a simple beast. Within its small bestial brain, a train of thought emerged that no good would stem from an attempt to outrun the hunter with an arrow hole in its backside. Instead, it pinned all hopes of survival on the foe's demise.
It was still a futile attempt.
Earlier structural analysis had allowed Shirou to perceive the incoming threat with ease. The trail of overflowing drool that stopped before the solid perch above was an evident sign of an ambush.
Prana exuded through from his fingertips and took form, just in the nick of time to intercept the attack. Three spears sprouted from the ground where his hand had touched, each no shorter than two meters, just nameless spears wielded by nameless hands. Still, they had the element of surprise on their side.
Expecting to sink its fangs into succulent human flesh, the beast instead hurled its weight against three razor-steeled tips. Three shafts emitted creaky protest and bent against the incoming mass. When resilience prevailed, the spears snapped back to their original position, rending flesh and bone with a violent jerking movement.
A deafening howl followed.
His duty was accomplished. The spears then crumbled and dissipated, leaving the skewered hound to fall with a dull thud. A once defiant roar was now reduced to whimpers.
Though mangled with multiple wounds, the alpha beast was magnificent in its stature. Glowing bulges ran across its body like blood vessels, circling most densely around the shaggy mane on its chest. Its inky black flesh was bloated like an inflatable dinghy with excess prana that forcibly pervaded its undeveloped pathways.
The kind-hearted Shirou couldn't help but feel slight sympathy for the animal, but the sentiment only extended so far. There was no cure for the corruption that existed within the Grail. Cold logic dominated his remaining course of his action. His sword would soon relieve the creature from its miserable state, an act of mercy done under the guise of violence.
Purging these new evils that plagued Fuyuki reinforced him like a blade of steel, both in the strength and in the spirit. No more was he the wide-eyed boy who stared in awe at the passing figures of heroes. Emiya Shirou, as he would like to believe, was a hero in the making, slowly climbing the steps towards the lofty throne.
Making a gradual way to the fallen body, Shirou raised the sword for an overhead swing. That was when the alpha made its final move, springing up with the last strength in its hind legs. Still drunk off his victory, the desperate charge caught Shirou off-guard. A sharp impact to his lower stomach sent him tumbling through the door and a few meters out of the building.
Near death agony drove the hound suicidal. With a final abandon, the beast pounced on Shirou's fallen form, all its remaining life devoted to exacting revenge on its foe. Its deathly jaw went for his throat.
The weight of the paws on his chest warned Shirou of the imminent danger. Desperate to intercept the bite, his right fist lashed out by instinct, a move he came to regret merely seconds later. After the chaotic scramble that ensued, half the length of his forearm had found its way into being lodged in the fleshy cavity of its mouth.
"Son of a…!" Shirou yelped, partly in panic and partly in disgust.
An unsettlingly close gnashing sound followed as the beast chomped down with glee. Its oversized head jerked to the side in an attempt to tear the trapped limb off its socket, but the reinforcement spell kept his limb intact and the rushing adrenaline dulled the piercing sensation of pain.
The tables were turned as Shirou overcame the split second of panic and wrested the weakened beast down. Streams of blackened blood gushed out with the weight of the man pressed down on top of it.
"Trace on!"
Focusing his mind amidst the turmoil of battle was nothing short of a feat, but that was exactly what his seven years of battle experiences had trained Shirou to do. From within the fleshy coil, a sword materialized. Through the bite and the blind swipes of claws, he remained steadfast and plunged the entire length of steel into the beast's jaw cavity, gouging its vital organs.
The beast might possess impressive vitality, but even it couldn't endure the trauma of losing multiple imperative organs at once. The skirmish reached its apex for merely a second before dying down to silence.
Smoke and sickly fumes erupted from the still-warm carcass of the alpha, an unnaturally fast process of decomposition.
Shirou gagged and stumbled backward.
"Urgh...Should've finished you off with an arrow.
Though not immaculately, his mission was nonetheless accomplished.
Conveniently, it saved him the trouble of handling the bodies, although he couldn't exactly be grateful while lying on top on of it. The smell of sulfur mixed with rotting flesh caused his nose to throb and stained the entire front of his work jacket.
The remains of the hunt would disappear before sunrise, both the weapons he had hastily projected and the fallen beasts. No trace would remain of the carnage that had happened under the secrecy of the night, leaving them as only collateral damage from the taint of the Holy Grail.
Shirou let out a small grumble. One more formality remained before he could be home dealing with the stink.
With all the worsening incidents, cursing seemed to be all that he did nowadays. This was the third incident in a month's time, and the 'supposedly' vigilant supervisor of the area had been out romping around in London. Therefore, the burden most logically and unfairly was transferred on to him following an abrupt request for Tohsaka Rin's presence in the Clock Tower.
'The Chief (and the only) Retainer to the House of Tohsaka' did not sport a pleasant ring, but the title eased the entry of an outsider into the circle of magi.
….Besides, his grocery bills weren't just going to pay for themselves. A sad realistic truth was that even a magus needed to be financially compensated for their efforts.
Shirou balanced himself using a broken fountain and staggered away from the scene. He found it unfortunate that stained clothing just couldn't be dumped down the ditch somewhere. Decency aside, the sudden cold snap of late November made the option impractical. With no possible hope to be hitching a ride while stinking to high heaven, he would rather avoid trudging through subzero weather with nothing on but his shorts.
For a moment, Shirou had to resist the temptation to vault over the railing and soak himself to the bone while proceeding along the river path. At this point, it just felt like any source of clean water would do, but the freezing cold would undoubtedly make him regret pulling off that stupid move.
Shirou sighed. He was in no position to complain. Part of the blame rested on his shoulders.
The decision he'd made that fateful night to destroy the vessel of the Holy Grail might have saved mankind and condemned the unfortunate city at the same time. The last Holy Grail War resulted in neither fire nor massacre, but it had contributed more than its well-due share of the disasters in Fuyuki.
Shirou snorted in disgust. The adjective 'holy' should be dropped, for good and obvious reasons.
As his gambit had turned out, even mankind's strongest sword could not fully purge all of the world's evil. Destroying the mass of foul energy at the heart of the city's ley lines was a dire mistake, and cleaning up the spilled over taint was only fair retribution.
Much of the remaining content had been spared from Excalibur. Without a vessel for containment, the pool of energy had acted like the errant force of a natural disaster, spreading plague-like corruption through the land; A vial of black ink dirtying the once clean flow of energy within Fuyuki.
Such was the final curse that it had laid on the city that received its blood, and the Holy Grail had gained its foothold in the town like never before.
They referred to the phenomenon as the 'Blackening.' The outcome of it resulted in Fuyuki being transformed into a platform of the Greater Grail. The spontaneous wishes being granted had followed and those unfortunate enough to succumb to the temptation were twisted into monsters that had to be hunted down. Even innocent wishes to live to another day would corrupt men and beast alike, granting strength but only at the cost of restraint and reason.
His guess would be that the hounds were once stray dogs, starved by the approaching winter. The instinctive drive to live united their minds and had drawn the Grail into their midst. After decades of exploitation, the Holy Grail's wish granting standard had become much lower.
Lost in thought, Shirou found himself desensitized to the smell by the time that he reached the city junction. A difficult choice was ahead of him: whether to continue ahead to report his mission or turn right to head home. Luckily, a pleasant surprise waited for him in the form of Caren Hortensia, who was seated on a mossy brick wall that partitioned a small flowerbed and walkway.
She raised her right arm high and waved after noticing his arrival. Just like her father, she rarely if at all displayed any interest on her face. The plain priestly robes and pale hair gave her a look of innocence, but Shirou had already learned the hard way of the need to watch his words around her. She had the looks of an angel, but her mouth came from the devil himself.
"Good work."
Kirei Kotomine was a man full of surprises. It was quite a long stretch to believe that someone twisted to his very core could have fathered the innocent girl that had now usurped his position. Shirou recalled that heart-stopping moment when she revealed her lineage with the same passion of someone describing their evening meal.
There were many causes for Shirou to be guilty of, especially the issue of driving a sword into her father's heart. In the end, since she wasn't awfully willing to pursue the issue, he decided that best course of action was to adopt the same case of convenient forgetfulness.
"I didn't expect to see you here," Shirou told her, his voice slightly surprised.
"My bottom is cold…" Caren said. Her tone indicated it more as a report, not a complaint. "…And you need a bath…badly"
"That's because you're sitting out in the open, and it can't be helped, can it? Not like I can just pluck those hounds off from miles away." On instinct he pulled the front part of his jacket for a whiff. A foul stench greeted his nostrils. "…Well, anyway, you know you don't really have to wait for me out here."
"It's fine. I'm just showing appreciation for your help," Caren said, trying her hardest not to gag. Instead, she covered her nose with the hem of her robe.
"Thanks, I guess, but you know that I don't mind making the detour to the church. It's worse to make a girl freezes her butt off in a winter night waiting."
"I appreciate it. You can be a real gentleman, Emiya Shirou… perhaps after properly taking a bath. I recommend to take one every three days at the absolute minimum."
"Wait, this smell's from the hounds. You're not thinking that I normally smell like this, do you?"
"Oh, you don't?" Caren cocked her head to the side and pondered. "I see. That would make more sense, but please do remember to take a bath still."
"Yeah…got it now. I'll do that the first thing when I'm home."
"Please do."
"Let's move on from that bath issue." Shirou let out a breath of relief as she agreed. "Well, I mean you're from the church and all, but it's not like you have to follow up with every single thing that I do in a report, is it?"
"The affairs related to the Holy Grail are also affairs of the church…or at least that's what I'm supposed to say," she said, shrugging. Caren apparently did not belong with those zealots that characterized many of the church personnel. "Besides, as Tohsaka Rin said, you're so suicidal that someone must be keeping an eye over you at all times. Who else would know to send in a rescue team if you fail to show up?"
"Well, that's…" Shirou cringed.
"Isn't that right? You were quite a Master back in the day, jumping in to shield your Servant from Berserker like that. That's the first time something like that happened through the history of Holy Grail War."
"Wait, that was-"
"Hmm? Was what?"
"…Fine…I get it."
Knowing better than to argue, Shirou made a grunting sound in implicit agreement. He had no retort to spare whenever that foolish segment of his past was dug out. Instead, he deemed it safer to simply get to business and proceeded to outline the details of the hunt, the location, the number of grail beasts remaining, and their behavior. Besides, the late night mission left him with little patience to prolong civil exchanges.
The worst part of the story was that he still couldn't honestly claim to be above the vice.
The exchanges with the slightly eccentric Caren had always been this way: abrupt, direct, and always on the verge of being verbally abusive. Caren's blunt honesty in laying bare the fault of others could turn any careless comments lethal. Not that he minded. Past all her quirks, she was still infinitely more pleasant to deal with than her father.
"Anyway, sorry that things dragged on quite late."
"It's fine. I have to prepare for guests tonight, so everything works out." Satisfied, Caren nodded and placed both the notebook and ballpoint pen into her right pocket. "Also, thank you for your report as usual. Things around here will be more troublesome very soon. On that note-"
"Can it be for later? I'd rather not be keeping both of us out in the cold for longer than necessary," Shirou said.
"This is important though…" Caren protested.
"It's nothing so important as to keep a girl out in this cold. I'll drop by tomorrow." Shirou was certain that it would be no more than another mundane report, nothing worth troubling his mind over for the night.
"Very well..." Caren cocked her head to the side, pondered for a moment, and nodded. "I understand then we'll conclude tonight with just a report. If there's nothing else, I'll be on my way."
"Nothing more…Thanks again for tonight."
"Stay strong and be sure to have plenty of rest. I'm sure the Lord will take note of your plight."
"I'll call you tomorrow then." Not really registering her parting words but sensing the goodwill behind it, Shirou waved a simple goodbye and went on his way.
"Oh, one last thing, if anything should happen, please don't hesitate to run to the church. I'll keep the front door open tonight just in case."
"…Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
During one of her more pleasant days, Caren had told him that finding a new minister for a city like Fuyuki was an issue that had driven many in the Vatican to countless headaches. As the stage of a Holy Grail War, there were only few of those ordained men who had the heart to be appointed to the city, and those who had the heart often lacked the skill to survive. A stroke of luck came by when they'd found Caren.
With all the children corpses in the basement given a proper service, the church of Fuyuki flourished under her care and became a proper place of respite from the turmoil of the city. As a fellow victim of the Fuyuki fire, the proper handling of the bodies gave Shirou a sense of closure and an immediate liking to the girl who'd come to replace her father as the church's minister.
The Tohsaka's Christian faith allowed them to maintain an amicable relationship with the Church in addition to the Magi Association. As their retainer, he had to carry on this spirit and share with Caren any information he'd learned of the grail beasts and its kin.
The Church was awfully interested in the behavior of the Fuyuki Holy Grail, always had been. Any artifact that fitted the bill of the Holy Grail had to be placed under surveillance, if only for reasons of formality. It would be unbecoming of the Church to not give a well-due attention. Though the misconceptions had only become more evident in the recent years, he supposed those higher-ups were reluctant to limit their operations there. Faulty judgment could be difficult to accept for those who look down from above.
Shirou told himself to get rid of those racing trains of thought. What the church planned for the Grail was none of his business. He left the grand scheme of things, the macrocosm, the long-term cause and effect, to be worried about by the old and the 'supposedly' wise of the Association and the Church.
Emiya Shirou's duty was first and foremost to lives of the innocent and the helpless.
And he intended to keep it that way.
Emiya Residence (3.18AM)
Shirou fumbled for his house key with nearly frozen hands. After the adrenaline rush of the fight had receded, he didn't feel like working his way back to comb the dark building for his pair of gloves. He had little on his mind after the full frontal soak in that foul liquid but to have a quick bath.
"I'm home."
Only the sound of his own voice echoed in reply. Shirou's blessed youthful days of being greeted at the entrance with warmth and the drifting aroma of miso soup had long been over. Now only the cold empty corridor was there to greet his arrival home.
Shirou let out a sigh. His gaze trailed across the darkened hallway and the dusty kitchen. The Emiya Residence was just too big to for a single lonely man to live in.
His tattered work coat was removed even before he managed to have the heater up and running. Normally, he would have stuffed it into the same drawer until the next hunt. After a few seconds of inspection, he deemed the smell unbearable and threw away the jacket along with other articles of clothing that were beyond saving. They would go into a fire or garbage dump later.
He slowly trudged toward the bathroom, hoping that a blast of warm water would be enough to recover his spirit from the haunting solitude.
Taiga, Sakura, and Shirou…
The family of three had broken after each of the members went their separate ways.
Wordlessly, they drifted apart. They would have made conscious efforts to patch things up had there been an argument or a fight. This gradual separation was far subtler and bitterer, giving them no chance to react until it was too late. Awkwardness grew and with new-found responsibilities in their life, the hectic breakfasts and joyous dinners had become a thing of the past.
That was the price Shirou had paid to set his foot on the path toward becoming a Heroic Spirit…
Sakura still came by from time to time and he would entertain her with conversation and a meal as before, but that close familial relationship had all but disappeared.
The real mortal blow to their relationship was his attraction to Saber. Since years ago he was not entirely blind to Sakura's affection, but their situation after the Grail War was different. Earlier he was unsure about his own feelings. Now, he had little doubt that he would turn her down.
Guilt left him incapable of accepting Sakura's kindness. He deemed it beyond cruel to be taking advantage of her while pining for another woman. The same part of that idealistic young Shirou still remained in him. He was committed to a single-minded faithfulness to the only woman he had fallen in love with, even though they were separated by all the conceivable rules of space and time.
The issue with Taiga was less subtle, but not any easier to be resolved. Coincidentally, the year of the Fifth Holy Grail War was also the year of her grandfather's, Fujimura Raiga's, death and the final year that Tiger-sensei could be seen in the vicinity of their high school. A power vacuum and the tight family bonds of the organization demanded her involvement to fill in the now vacant position of power.
Once a goofy English teacher, now the boss of the Fuyuki yakuza.
Those who knew the truth behind her disappearance found the sudden shift even more difficult to comprehend. Likewise, Taiga herself seemed to be deeply affected. Perhaps due to the rather unsavory nature of the work or the increasing responsibilities, Shirou never knew.
Scarce text messages kept their connection alive. Emotional distances had grown over time, but never to the point of severing contact with one another. Their relationship could never deteriorate so far, but they both found it increasingly difficult to be comfortably barging into the other's life without permission. If only the other party would show the willingness to communicate, then they would surely respond in kind. It was just that neither of them had the courage to pick up that telephone and dial.
These thoughts occupied his mind during a full hour of intense washing, comforted only by the sensation of water traveling from his scalp down the base of his neck. Though pale and wizened by the water and smelling strongly of soap, he was glad to get rid of the stench.
Shirou suspected that it wouldn't be until daybreak before his fatigue-ridden self could manage to have a good sleep. These hunting nights had turned him into an insomniac. He just couldn't easily placate his senses once they were alerted to danger. It usually took hours for his gears to wind down to the point of lying down and sleeping.
Breakfast…then the early morning routine…Hope I'll be ready to sleep by then.
The thought of breakfast dampened Shirou's spirit. The only viable sources of food he remembered were the stale few-days-old rice left in the cooker and some pickled vegetables in the cupboard. Apparently, after having his full rest, tomorrow would have to be a grocery day.
The opportunities he had to enter the kitchen became increasingly seldom. Instead, much of his free time was spent playing recluse in the same old toolshed. The lack of companions at the table had long since made him gave up on cooking. Strip away the smiles and compliments of those who tasted his foods, and all that remained of cooking was a tedious chore.
But tonight Emiya Shirou was pleasantly surprised.
He'd expected to find an empty dinner table. Instead, he found a grocery bag from a family store down the street waiting for him. Inside it contained a small set of plastic-wrapped Tupperware. Curious, Shirou squinted to examine the attached pink post-it note.
To Emiya-Senpai
I stopped by your house earlier today, but you weren't home.
I'm sorry I barged in without your permission, but I made some extra miso soup and teriyaki chicken, so I packed some up for you. I hope you'll enjoy them, Senpai. Please have a good night.
PS. The food might be a little cold by the time you get back, so make sure to warm it up before eating.
Shirou had a wry smile, grateful and guilty for the decision not to ask Sakura to return the spare key to the Emiya residence.
Though she had nearly graduated from her university, Sakura's formal apologetic tone had become one of the quirks that defined their ordinary exchanges as of late. A certain forlornness assailed him while rereading the note followed by an appropriate sense of emotional distance. There never was a need for her to ask permission to barge in and make dinner.
It was for the best, the kindest way out for both of them.
Initially reluctant to avail himself to her kindness, the rumblings of his honest stomach ended up having the final say. The luscious aroma of soy sauce and miso emanating from within the plastic bag was irresistible to a famished man.
Guess I'll have to find something to make it up to her later
Salivating, Shirou wasted no time in tearing the wrapping from the single portion of the Japanese broth and the broiled strips of chicken. He drew in a lung-full of the smell of seasonings with a hint of homeliness, just one of the finer things in life that he sorely missed.
RING!
But the sharp telephone ring transported him back to reality, earning a well-deserved groan.
Exactly one person would actually make a phone call to him at such an inconvenient time. A nine hour time difference was a major annoyance, especially when there was an emergency and her meetings dragged on to the evening. Still, Shirou found it better than tagging along with her to the Association.
A few earlier trips to London had allowed him to learn the hard way that the more accomplished in the Clock Tower deemed a fully grown magus who lacked the knowledge of even the five elements to be a laughingstock. For this reason, the fakers, who specialized in projection magecraft, were rarely recognized within the hierarchical structure of the Clock Tower. The best they could hope for were to be specialists who performed odd jobs for the more prominent families of magi.
A bitter thought occurred to Shirou. If the Clock Tower ever welcomed him, it would be more as a test subject than as another upstanding magus. There definitely would be some who would love nothing more than to extract some…biological samples, as Rin had most kindly put it, from a man who had at one point merged with the Avalon.
Then again, someone needed to around in Fuyuki to keep to growing number of the Grail beasts in check.
Annoyed and grumbling, Shirou picked up the phone. "Emiya Shirou speaking."
"Hello, how's my favorite retainer doing?"
"Oh, just the usual: cranky, sleep-deprived, and underpaid. Thanks for asking." After a couple of years under her servitude, he'd plenty of opportunities to sharpen his tongue. Rin once commented that the increasingly frequent streaks of sarcasm were turning him into the likeness of Archer, much to his chagrin.
"What's wrong with you? Not in a mood to talk?"
"Guess you can say that, if you still don't realize that it's about 3AM over here. What's with the bright idea of calling in middle of the night?"
"Sorry I had to disturb your sleep, Emiya-kun, but it happens to be something urgent this time. Besides, I'm pretty sure that you have been out hunting tonight, so I technically didn't exactly disturb your sleep, did I?"
Shirou replied with a grumbling sound. She was right. "You still disturbed my breakfast though."
"I said I'm sorry. By the way, I'm using a public phone so don't call back with this number and let's just get to business, shall we?"
"And your cellphone?"
"Charred, melted, and thrown away; probably halfway to the dumpster by now," Rin said.
"Stuff's gone wrong again, I see…"Shirou said, suppressing an urge to laugh.
"…What else? Hahh, all the traveling around wore me out," Rin complained, heaving a large sigh.
"Just to let you know, it's also pretty darn tiring to be sacrificing my sleep and tracking those things all over the city."
"That's why I'm grateful for your assistance. I even bought you a souvenir, you know?"
"From London?"
"From Heathrow… a few hours before my flight to be exact. Where else?"
"How about no. I have enough of your Big Ben trinkets to fill a house."
"Is that so? And, here I am, generously planning to give you a Buckingham Palace keychain for a change," Rin said over the phone.
Shirou stifled a laugh. She wasn't even trying to conceal the lack of effort.
"Now then…" As the wave of giggles subsided, a certain air of seriousness overtook Rin's demeanor. "What's your situation?"
"Your concern is spot on...again. These guys are becoming more and more troublesome to deal with."
"Oh? Are they becoming too much for you to handle?"
"I'm not saying they are and probably not for a while, but I'd say things are getting worse. The hounded are getting riled up more and more. It won't be long before we start seeing bear-sized things running around."
"Hmm…I see."
"The number of the incidents is the thing I'm concern with though. Any more frequent than this, and I'll need to start splitting myself into two."
The devious giggles at interval between the explanations began to irritate him. Rin must have known something. "Well, Emiya-kun, I suppose you can put that worry to rest very soon."
"Yay…great…excellent, I'm almost shedding a tear in gratitude."
"What's with the sarcasm? You don't sound awfully interested, and it's a proper mission from the Association too, just so you know."
"Something inside me is telling that the difficulty will range from nightmarish to impossible."
"Oh? Who was it again that said he'll endure every challenge to become a Heroic Spirit?"
"Fine, fine, I get it…just don't ask for the impossible."
"It shouldn't be. Well, at least, I hope it wouldn't be, but for once you're absolutely right, Emiya-kun. Things will get icky pretty soon. Please do your best not to die before I come back. I expect to be greeted by a retainer, not a corpse."
"Hey, slow down. You said to prepare, but prepare for what exactly? What the heck do I have prepared for?"
"You mean Caren didn't tell you?"
"Nothing that I heard of."
"Geez, that girl, what's she doing…?" Rin complained, evidently suppressing the urge to swear.
Shirou laughed weakly. He might be to blame for that.
"Fine then, I just have to tell you myself." A pause came before Rin continued. Shirou could almost picture her alternating looks left and right to make sure that there were no eavesdropping ears. "Listen well and get prepared, Emiya-kun. Things are about to get complicated in Fuyuki."
"As if it isn't already. What's the worst that can happen? I'm guessing another Holy Grail War?"
No reply came from the other side.
"Tohsaka, don't tell me…Alright, this is one time I don't want you to tell me that I'm right."
"But I'm afraid you are, Emiya-kun," Rin picked up on the conversation eventually. "As you've guessed quite correctly, there will soon be another war in Fuyuki…In a sense, but also not exactly."
"Wait, it doesn't make any sense, not at all. I mean isn't the war supposed to be-"
"60 years apart, yes, but actually that means we'll have to talk later. My train's departing."
"Wait! You can't just leave me hanging like this!"
"It would be easy if I could explain it in a few seconds!" The annoyed Rin snapped. "Look, just call Caren or I'll brief you when I get home! The train's leaving!"
Uneasy silence reigned as the line went dead, but that didn't stop Shirou from mumbling complaints into the phone for a good minute afterward. He wanted confirmation to this growing anticipation in proper words.
"That little minx…Don't just yank someone around like that and leave them hanging."
He had heard before, most likely from Rin, that each instance of the Holy Grail War is 'supposedly' sixty years apart.
"So why now of all times? Why would another war be staged?"
Shirou's best guess was that the destruction of the lesser grail and the left over energy from not granting a single wish during the fifth war might have something to do it. He had never fully comprehended the conceptual mystery of the Grail and the way it functioned. The usual theory talks always eluded him.
He didn't have much of an opportunity to be mulling the matter over. The ringing of bells soon echoed in the hallway. The sound was innocent enough had it not been previously used as a warning system for intruders that entered into the Emiya estate.
"Still….it seems like that Tohsaka's warning is always right in the end. Gotta be careful from now on."
Shirou reached for the bokken that he carried around for protection. The practice weapon, though lacking in lethal ability, served as the core of his projection mage craft. His softly mumbled incantation sent prana enveloping the entire shaft and transforming lacquered wood into razor steel.
Lugging around a piece of wood in the safety of his own home might seem excessive, but having his home repeatedly breached during the last war had convinced Shirou to not overestimate the protection it offered. Skulking from corner to corner, he felt a pang of both relief and disappointment while peering over the edge of a wall.
A hound…
Shirou's anticipated grand prelude of the new Holy Grail War made reality a disappointment. A single hound stalked the hall, probably lured in to avenge the death of its alpha. He assumed that more would be entering from the other directions. One seemed like an oddly low number to give them enough confidence to initiate an attack.
"It will do for a warm up, I suppose."
His right hand instinctive moved to touch the patch of flesh that once housed his command spells. The uncanny similarities with the fateful night that had his heart leaping in his rib cage, but there was also a difference from the time, when Lancer chased him down the corridor.
He'd entered the last war as a child, ignorant and naïve. Now, he was different, prepared in both strength and spirit. The approaching war no longer made him shudder in apprehension as before. Instead, Emiya Shirou would stand firm in his conviction to protect the innocent. The imminent atrocity of the Holy Grail War be damned.
Kirei Kotomine's criticism of his ideal had long been a thing of the past. A hypocrite or not, he stood by the ideal even more fervently before. Without him having to make a wish, the world was already a place where evil thrived. There simply was no need for his wish to play a part in it. All that he had to do was to reject passivity and stand up in resistance.
Still, in the grand schemes of things, Shirou couldn't help but feel guilty on account of personal interest.
"Wait for me, Saber. This time I'll fight by your side."
This time he wouldn't just stand by to receive protection. The thought strengthened Shirou's grip on the hilt. The corridor was too narrow to be swinging a sword around, so he dashed forth with the blade raised parallel to the ground. The luminescent glow emitted from the hound's fur made aiming for its vitals easy even in the dark corridor.
Clang!
"Wha-"
The blade was deflected midair as the beast turned and caught the sword in its jaw in one swift movement. Almost purely by reflex, Shirou lashed out with a kick, but his enemy was a tad bit faster.
Not a hound…A wolf, Shirou realized before its backside, bulging with muscles, slammed into his stomach.
Sheer pain short-circuited his body.
Shirou sailed through the paper door and across the dining room. Even screaming was beyond him. If the strength of the alpha hound was like a punch, then this wolf was a wrecking ball. His vision grew wavy as he landed with an impressive thud on the other side of the corridor, arms and legs drained of sensation.
Shit…Not again…
Apparently, luck didn't seem to be on his side tonight. Assuming the fight to be swift and easy, the carelessness to not strengthen his body turned out to be a fatal mistake. It was too late for Shirou once the damage had been done. There was no healing spell within his arsenal to recover from any mistake made.
Can't…move
Laying on the ground, face-up and breathless reminded Shirou of the first night that had drawn him into the vicious fate of the Holy Grail War, but this time the feeling of utter helplessness was not there.
He could fight. He could take on this enemy, if only he had another chance.
"…Poor hunter…Hide your presence…better…."
Stray words entered his ears as the wolf crouched over him. If the wolf was human, Shirou could swear that it was snorting at his pathetic performance, looking down on him like a pest that wasn't worth its time.
Pain pierced through his throat, deep enough to reach the jugular. Shirou yelped and struggled, but beast's jaws clamped down with machine-like resilience and snapped upward, tearing flesh off in chunks as it went. Shirou convulsed and collapsed from pain as he was sent rolling to the opposite side of the wall.
Panicking as his very life poured out of the neck cavity, Shirou jammed his right fist into the open wound. His vain effort to plug the leak did nothing to slow the outflow of the warm liquid inside.
His vision flickered and faded. Only the picturesque scene of the wolf as it turned away from its fallen prey was seared into his mind.
Then darkness fell.
