King Of Fakers: Chapter 2 Disposition.
Author's Note:
Please read this. This chapter is unedited because all eligible editors have tests or work or have festive season responsibilities. So the grammar in this will be more horrible then the previous two... but I think the content is better a tad.
I really hope this entertains people and most importantly myself. If anything seems OOC or wrong or I messed up a mechanic...
Well inform me and I shall deal with it when I have the free time.
Also cameos which are maybe a tiny bit OOC.
Also... if anyone would want to be a beta/editor... please for the love of god speak now!
Shirou was standing outside the gates of a fairly large school.
He was 13 now, today was the first day of middle school, the red haired child grinned with shining fangs, he was resembling the man he revered more everyday, even just a little.
Shirou had a distaste for rules, and so he had modified some clothing he saw his father own, with a few looks into Sumerian designs and the like attaching it to the clothing, the school emblem was apparently and the basics were the same, it was the uniform, but it was definitely different.
Edges were of elegant somewhat shining blue with stripes of gold attached, it wasn't much different yet it stood out enough, as if to say he was above the rest.
There was a bit of a commotion. Shirou had come a bit earlier then what was required... and now he blocked the students from entering.
He stretched out his arms as if he was trying to grab the whole crowd of confused students.
"Rejoice! All of you are my subjects from this day forth!"
A truly sincere and serene smile washed over the crowd as Shirou closed his eyes and made a wide shining smile...
A small groan of annoyance from one particular voice, while the majority were in a stunned charmed and awed silence.
A petite red figure with dark hair walked past the crowd, her movements in a perfect lady like posture, a few startles at her appearance, she was pretty.
"Shirou... don't you think you should move so the students can be let in? Doing such outlandish things may make the school think badly of you... furthermore that... uniform is it appropriate?"
Coming from the little lady wearing a red coat over her uniform...
Her face couldn't be seen by anyone else, but to Shirou is was a tiny devilish smirk... something about it always caused Shirou two things.
One, a feeling of dread at times... two a elation, he liked it.
He gave back his fanged charming grin back, Rin had similar feelings disgust and for some reason she couldn't help but feel charmed by it, she hated that. He could make anyone like him.
Shirou sighed, well he didn't want to get in too much trouble on the first day. Setting a good example and excelling were good for a royal image, even if he hated following rules.
Though causing problems for the fake priest was rather enjoyable...
But he satiated his need to waste the man's time, he had work to do, make everyone in this school his! He took out a far better chart then the one he made 5 years ago.
He attached it to the nearby wall next to the gate and pointed, the eyes of the crowd surged like a wave at it, as if still entranced by Shirou's charisma.
They looked at it, the illustrations were fairly good... and a slow dreadful irking spread throughout the crowds veins, chilling their bones.
Then two fingers hit above Shirou's image. The red haired kid turned with a ferocious almost reflex like glare at the two, who would dare to place themselves above himself!
"Because, you worship someone other then yourself, despite all your skill."
A fairly deep male voice rang out from one of the people pointing to the chart.
"But were below who you revere... because if you loved a person that much then we have no right to judge them." A light jovial female voice.
The figures were one female and a male, looking similar, wearing the brown school uniform and had shiny yet somewhat dark brown hair.
The male was significantly taller then the girl and had a confident look to his face.
The female was looking what could only be described as a stoic, somewhat tsundere happiness.
A small grunt from Shirou who then smiled and dragged their fingers to just above a few indents.
The atmosphere also seemed to drop with that movement. Their eyes locked, as if the air was filled with static growling electricity.
The clash of souls was stopped when they noticed a person crawl past, place his fingers just below and indent, tapped it and walked past to the edge of the school gate next to a bluish haired teen, he had spiky black hair, looked somewhat special... yet incredibly dull.
"Ha! You actually think people will care? Nobody here even knows you, why should they care about some kid with a weird complex?"
Some rough laughter came from his voice... a very arrogant feeling seeped from his very core.
Shirou didn't like it. He ignored the two brown haired teens and marched to the man who had dare accuse him of being inferior.
He walked straight up to him, Shirou was never good at thinking about personal space. They faces were close, their eyes locked in a ferocious battle.
He had purple like wavy hair and looked by normal standards attractive.
Shinji was unsettled... but his face became one of anger and pride. "I'm Matou Shinji! You don't know who your dealing with."
A small silence for a second, "My name is Shirou... Matou. And I don't like you."
The bell rang. The day was about to start.
X
Shirou slammed his hand against the board as he wrote "Your Majesty, Shirou".
"I trust you'll all be good subjects." Shirou walked into the centre of the classroom, next to a male student and stood straight, closing his eyes, and had a look of frustration.
"...Please get out of my seat, subject." The student looked up at Shirou with a look of confusion.
"But... this is my seat." Shirou's glare intensified.
"Do you expect me to be nothing less then the centre of attention? A King is to be revered by everyone at all times. The centre's just the best place for that right?"
Surprisingly he did ask it as a genuine question yet in a very loud voice...
"Hm... well I think your right, for the most part. The front though may be better though, since if your in the centre some people would have to turn their heads to the side to see you, which they might not bother doing."
"Hm... yeah that sounds appropriate. Next time however, please don't challenge my judgement."
With that Shirou walked to the front centre seat in the classroom and shoved a girl off it and then sat in her place.
"Kotomine-kun! You can't just force people like that!" The home-room teacher for Shirou was a young new male teacher in his very early twenties.
"...My name is Shirou. Don't. Ever. Call. Me. Kotomine!" Shirou stuck out his right index finger and pointed it inches from the teachers eye.
The man stumbled as he tried to find the words to respond...
"Well, if you feel that way... then alright... Shirou-kun... hey! But you can't just push people around and your not supposed to sit there anyway!"
"Sigh... it's because I'm not in the proper place right? It's because you don't want students to speak to each other if they know each other too well... or you do it alphabetically so it's easier to learn peoples names right? It's the first day, you can change it with a switch of two names. Don't tell me that your so lazy you can't bother to take out a pen for five seconds..."
Shirou's voice was patronising and the will to argue was slowly being sapped away from the teacher. "Well... whatever alright... wait! That's not the most important point here! You can't just push her or anyone else around-"
"It's just a woman. Who cares?" Shirou yawned.
"Ah right it's just a woman, oh I see... yeah... do whatever you..." A small silence. "Wait! That's not right! Shirou you..." in Shirou's hands was a tape recorder. Click.
"Ah right it's just a woman... oh I see...yeah... do whatever you..." Shirou grinned like a little child.
"Hoh? Hm... is this sexism I hear Sensei?" Shirou then took a sly sharp intake of breath.
"I wonder what would happen if people found out about this? I'm sure it would damage your standing if not your job... but perhaps, I won't show it?"
"Are you not wearing proper uniform?" The question seemed to fall out of the teachers mouth.
Shirou began slowly shaking the recorder in front of the man.
"...Alright I get it... can you say sorry at least?"
"Sorry, Sensei." The words left dully from his mouth. "You didn't mean that at all!...And I meant to the girl lying on the floor!"
"Sorry cute little mongrel." Again he didn't mean it. He didn't even look her in the eye as he said it.
X
Every opportunity to be the leader of a club he pounced on. He would argue with the club heads and the teachers as if he was fighting a life and death battle...
In the end he somehow was the leader of the school council, and a joint leader of the archery club and assistants to most of the other clubs...
...And it was only the first day.
Remarkably the four exceptional people he met today also wormed their way in despite this just like Shirou did. Shinji was the vice captain of the archery club already, the spiky dull kid was already prioritised in the school newspapers.
And the two brown haired teens, who Shirou learnt were siblings, were in his council.
A person wearing glasses with dark blue hair approached Shirou and stretched out his hand.
"I'll be the vice president for the council... to be fair I'm very surprised we got our positions on the first day... I guess it just shows your charisma. So I hope we will do our best and get along."
Shirou shrugged and shook his hand, an obedient subordinate is always good.
Rin wasn't in his class. Nor were anyone else he had met this morning except the spiky haired kid.
They had talked briefly, the teen seemed idealistic at points but also very reluctant to act.
So Shirou, was very bored. He wanted the red devil to annoy him some.
Or perhaps some conflict with the twins he met earlier... or maybe a fist fight with Shinji could past the time, but he was confined to doing the menial tasks of life.
King's need to be entertained...
X
Student council, the first day. It became evident Shirou, while being a very good speaker... had no real idea what he was doing other than how to exert force and keep people in line.
Shirou could sense it, most of his people were special, even if they had got on his nerves he was slightly happy having these people around him. "
"President." Issei brought Shirou from his calming thoughts. "I thought I told you to call me your Majesty?" Shirou made a half hearted glare at Issei.
"President, I'm just following the rules of the hierarchy of this establishment. You joining it, is it not your acceptance of this fact? Regardless, we have work to do."
Shirou seemed to ignore Issei. He was slightly at peace but nothing was entertaining him.
A stack of papers fell before Shirou's desk.
The spiky black haired kid was here again. "Yo, President. I was told to give these to you... seems like some people are a bit... uncomforted by you. So they sent their worries to the school paper and journalism club. They're mostly letters hoping you won't do something reckless with funding."
The kid turned around and began to head for the door.
Before leaving he turned and looked at the people in the room, seeing the two brown haired twins talking about something, Issei doing actual work and Shirou making disinterested sighs as he read, and then ripped the letters with some vigour with his eyes half closed.
"Um, this may sound weird but..." The teen began to somewhat stutter, as if he couldn't find the right words or was mustering courage.
"I don't think you people are weird, but unique... like, magical? Urgh. Well anyway, see you later."
Shirou opened an eye. Shirou had sensed something from the twins and the teen that just left the room. It was similar to a magus really... but for now he would just watch and hope to be entertained.
"I'm going to sleep. Tell me when I can start ruling this school. I expect only the best Issei."
And with that Shirou laid his head on the wooden desk.
X
Shirou returned home and went to a special isolated room in the church.
He smiled. He felt the feeling of trust bestowed upon him.
A large beautiful metal craft was in the middle of the large room, a glorious faint night light surrounding it.
Vimana. A flying craft that the King of Heroes owned. Well to be fair... Shirou switched the lights on. The thing looked like an incomplete school project. Truthfully this was a lot better then the state Shirou first saw it in though.
Originally it was scarred with burn marks, ash and chipped metal, almost all of it was destroyed.
He had heard as a child how this machine had had a ferocious and beautiful battle with a jet plane with a load of flashy explosions.
The idea made Shirou's heart beat a little faster. The idea of this thing taking flight again was miraculous to him. Shirou could no even begin to try to trace this creation.
It didn't particularly seemed to... click with him, it wasn't a natural flare like when he projected swords for combat.
Shirou had spent his spare time in this room, analysing the structure and history of the machine and was able to slowly, manually rebuild it. Some things were actually easy to obtain and use to fix the machine.
However some parts... Shirou had no real idea what to do. He tried to find information on similar things that functioned the same way but had mixed success, not to mention such things would be very expensive. So far he mostly just rebuilt most of the exterior and some minor sections of the interior.
He was proud of what he did though, even the King of Heroes seemed to be minimally impressed.
Shirou had once came close to repairing it before... but it broke down. He was yelled at a lot that day and training was definitely more intense.
Shirou sat down and brought out his tools, placing his hand on the machine he focused beginning to analyse and structurally grasp every last detail of it's being and the history and life it led.
"Trace On."
X
Shirou and Shinji had been here since early in the morning.
The targets at an absurd distance were littered with arrows, the very centre of the targets seemed to be on the verge of falling out due to the pure weight and impact that had been accumulated.
Sweet dripped off the sides of their necks, noticeably more so on Shinji.
"God...dammit!" Shinji rose up and fired another arrow with near perfect aim, once again striking the bullseye. The target then slowly toppled over and with it Shinji.
The bell for the morning registration rang. Shirou walked past the fallen Shinji, only looking at his collapsed form for a brief second.
The nearby crowd had dispersed, some people followed Shirou with adoration, especially most of the archery club members. Matou Shinji hated being bested in anyway.
He could not before magecraft and his studies into it were useless if he could never actually use it.
Shinji liked being the best at things, and was talented at things.
He wasn't the heir to his family any more and now in his social life someone upstaged him... he groaned in frustration, getting up extremely aggravated.
Cursing and muttering he tried to drag his tired body to class. "...I... swear if that idiot made me late... I'll... kill him..." His vision began to become blurry. He was far too tired to continue staying awake... yet he continued to do so.
"Stupid... Sakura! Stupid School...Stupid Shirou..." Shinji spat and regretted it immediately as his legs gave way, his face collapsed in his own spit and a small trickle of blood began to leak from his right cheek.
"Fuck!" Shinji roared, and no one heard him. He mumbled more as he tried to move.
He found he couldn't. "Gah..." He began to fall asleep lying where he was, covered in his own sweat, blood and spit.
He then felt his body rise up and his vision cleared for a moment. The person who lifted him back to his feet was Shirou!
"You looked pathetic, don't spoil the view of this school with your wretched being."
A small smirk from Shirou as he walked away, as if he had no care in the world.
"Damn.. you! Get back here! I'll kick your ass!"
"Your not worth the time of day, Matou." Shinji grit his teeth as he ran forward, fists raised.
"Hrraaggghhh!" His fist missed as Shirou merely stepped to his left side, Shinji stumbling bit his lip as he tried to keep his body from falling.
A curse, a scream and another quick flailing of his fists. They touch nothing.
"Da... Dammit... stay still so I can punch your teeth out!"
Shirou dodged the next ill planned strike and snorted for a moment making a very slight smirk.
"...Did you actually expect me to do that?"
Shinji almost fell to his knees. To him everything Shirou did was to mock him.
Shirou, in fact didn't do this out of malice. He merely found Shinji's actions amusing, as if he was an animal constantly trying to escape his cage, only to fall back to the ground.
"Well... your a coward right? Why not use some magecraft instead of punching at the summer heat?Your a Matou aren't you?"
The comment felt like thousands of blades of ice being crammed into his heart, shredding him to pieces and spreading into his veins, then that too shattered. Shirou knew? That made it worse... but he threw away his thoughts and turned them to rage.
Shinji grit his teeth again began to make a small hissing and growling like sound, that slowly built up within him. "Hyeeeaaahah!" A quick uppercut, again dodged effortlessly by the red haired youth. Next a quick left hook like punch, that merely flew past Shirou's left cheek.
He rose his right fist again and smashed it down like a hammer, but all it struck was the nearby brick wall. The sound of the impact was like a mix of shattered glass and the strike of jack hammer.
Shinji grimaced as he slowly calmed his right fist with his trembling left hand... tightening it as he tried to hold in the pain... a futile effort. "Arrrrrrryyyyyaaaaggghhh!"
He fell to the floor and began to roll as if trying to distract the sensation of pain from spreading across his body. He then scrambled up cursing with every breath he could spare.
He charged again, keeping his right arm floating almost aloof, he swung his left palm out in a slap like motion, not having the care to grip it into a fist.
Shirou merely took a step back then a tiny twist to the right, and stretched out his right leg.
The all too familiar sound of flesh falling against the cold hard and unforgiving Earth, Shinji spat out the dirt and rocks that had fallen into his mouth.
He barely had the strength to stand up again. He looked like a drunken martial artist, the only thing keeping him upright was his anger, the only think keeping him away from the land of dreams was his will.
To Shirou this wasn't even close to a fight.
Shinji panted for a few moments before recovering his breath. Then he felt cold hard steel placed against his shoulder. His feet gave way and he fell on his ass.
He looked up to see that in Shirou's right hand was a shining golden silver like green sword.
"Projection?...Ha, nice try Shirou... but projections... don't work, I know that much... you..."
The blade cut a small wound near Shinji's neck.
Well that theory was just proved false. Shirou stuck the blade into the ground and turned around.
Shinji couldn't really move. He just stayed there watching. And growing more in anger every second. The blade didn't disappear.
X
Shirou had avoided being late by claiming he took Shinji to a hospital.
Of course when they would later find Shinji covered in all but one self inflicted bruise they might make a bit of a row, but Shirou's excuse would be that Shinji fell.
Which in a way was true. All Shirou really did was deal a tiny little cut, which couldn't be traced because the blade would no longer exist by that point, they wouldn't be able to prove anything, searching him would do no good. Not that they would dare even try though.
Most of the people he passed by made small smiles at him as he walked. While most did think that Shirou was weird, they couldn't help but like him.
The teachers had long given up trying to argue against him. He was technically very good academically, people always defended him and he just knew exactly how to push peoples buttons.
His arguments were always fairly solid... and if not he wouldn't allow any flaw to be taken advantage of.
Life was awesome. Mostly. Sometimes it was very boring to pay attention to lessons and some people were just normal.
Shirou wouldn't tell anyone he was happy, but he gave off a feeling of being happy, whenever he spent time around Rin, Shinji, or those people he met.
They tore away the basics of everyday... even if they annoyed him.
X
Shirou was at the entrance of the Church grounds. It was night... the scene was quite.
"Ah crap! Stealth training!" Shirou projected his favourite sword, Durendal and smashed his back against a nearby wall. "You can't get me you fake priest! I'm my backs against a wall then you can't hit me from behind!"
Shirou began to sweat. He absolutely hated stealth training with all his heart.
It was perhaps one of the only things in this entire world he actually feared.
"Okay... okay think rationally... reinforcing eyes... check. Okay now... look for any jogging slightly darker then night figures and the fires of hell..."
The suspense was killing him. He swore under his breathe but then stopped the movements of his mouth. He was never sure exactly how Kotomine did it but even a single movement seemed to give away his position.
He slowed down his breathing... he tried to control his muscles, even reinforce them.
Shirou's grip was shaking, wavering with every moment... sweat began to fall unto the floor like bullets... every drop sounded like a raging storm to Shirou, who has just now reinforced his ears.
If there was anything in the world that could make him panic it was certainly this.
Thang! Shirou could barely turn his neck to see a metal blade in his shadow.
His pupils dilated, it was done. He had lost... he lost. He lost. Shirou lost.
The shining golden cross, the deep dark black figure moving in almost a sinister jovial jog towards his position... the gleaming long blades held in the man's right fingers... and the steaming red in his left hand. With what little movement Shirou had left he futilely tried to break free, and he began to scream. "No! No! God dammit no!" He regretted the god dammit.
"Hoh? Blasphemy Shirou? It seems you'll get another portion today."
Shirou felt like crying. He began to make movements that looked like a mix of flailing and break-dancing...
Shirou recited every curse he knew in the back of his mind, keeping them away from his mouth.
Kirei dropped the blades around Shirou, embedding into the ground.
Then he placed his now free fingers onto Shirou's neck for a moment.
"Fuck! You! Kiiiiirrrrrerreeeeiiiii!"The roar came out against Shirou's will.
"I guess that's three now." The priest's deep voice was menacing and Shirou's mouth opened wide due to the magic cast on him.
Kirei lifted the red boiling and steaming bowl of mapo tofu, took out some chopsticks, and began tunnelling the contents into Shirou's throat.
The muscles of Shirou's throat and mouth began to move, consuming the rice, the tofu, the hot spices. If his sweat before was a storm of bullets now it would be a tempest of maelstroms.
Shirou's eyes began to create delicious tears of agony as his taste buds began to relay the fire of hell devouring them to the brain and the senses of his entire being.
He made attempts to throw the food out... he even tried to reinforce his body functions to push it out or digest it quicker... but this utterly failed and only made the pain worse.
Finally that bowl was done, but the torture was only about to begin.
Kotomine poured a small meagre glass of water down Shirou's throat, who tried to take up every drop of moisture from it he could.
Shirou was going to make sure that Kotomine pays for this, in some way or another.
He would also remind himself to never stay out too late... but knowing Kotomine it might not help much.
Hidden, in the not too far distance the King of Heroes had signs of a wavering face.
Truly, this boy was could soon become a hero, for he has tasted the fires of hell...
The King grimaced as the third bowl was brought out, Gilgamesh summoned a gem encrusted flask and chugged the contents down. Just watching this was painful.
X
Another night, another bit of Vimana.
Shirou was proud. Who could possibly say they rebuilt a ancient flying machine that could move at the speed of thought at the age of 15?
He... couldn't. While most of it indeed looked as it was before it was destroyed...
It didn't work yet, once it had showed signs of perhaps floating but it was still just broken junk.
He took out some paint and began giving the old metal the glamour of its old look.
Shirou smiled as he made little well planned strokes on the throne he had rebuilt, he began to day dream of soaring through the skies, decimating even the God's themselves with naught but a blade.
X
"Okay it's settled then! Our next big scoop will be at that haunted house! Shirou-kun thank you for helping us out! You too Tohsaka-san! Oh I almost forgot! Matou-kun were counting on you too!"
Shirou yawned and looked sleepy as he stood in front of the large old Japanese mansion.
Shinji made a clear face of boredom and frustration. He was only here because he had been attending the archery club lately and needed to get the teachers off his back.
Rin had the same reason. She looked disinterested at the scene. The plan was that Matou, Shirou and herself would enter the building, find evidence of the local ghost stories, failing that refute it.
No one from the journalism club or the school paper were actually going to help them. Besides one.
The spiky haired black kid... Rin realised that nobody ever really referred to him by name.
They usually just told him to do something and it would happen.
Oh well. Not like she needed to know.
The group of four headed into the building. Their footsteps made creaks as they moved across the wooden floor. Shinji stayed at the back, Shirou at the front, the teen and Rin just behind him, they each held a small torch to light their way.
The place was rather eerie, paintings of traditional Japanese spirits decorated the walls, all pointed forward with their eyes. The inside of the place honestly didn't look too different from a normal traditional Japanese house... except this was far far larger... and had corridors of shadow that never seemed to end.
"The ghost story went like this... there's a hidden basement below that-" The teen began as the floor collapsed beneath the party, who landed on a lower layer of wood, a cloud of dust formed as they tried to gather their surroundings, coughing and brushing could be heard, and then the dust cleared.
"Well. We found it." Shirou stated the obvious. The group looked around the room.
Bones. A pile of old bones from ages past. A small uneasy silence from most of them.
The stench of age old death, clear deep cut marks were upon the littered skeletons.
"The rumours were true... maybe this place really is haunted?" As in response to the air suddenly became colder, a large gust of wind blasted from the nearby corridor.
"Members of this samurai family had went to war, and experienced things so horrible they went mad. Because it would be bad for their image to kill them... they were used as entertainment, acting like gladiators because each of the madmen believed they were still on the battlefield..."
"Fighting for a way home, to those they loved, to those that knew once mocked them, to bring honour home. But instead the ones who should have loved them... only death awaited them."
In response a large cackling war cry surged through the nearby corridor, fracturing the wooden floor, the heaving of metal and stumbling steps approached them.
"...Shirou, this place really is haunted. Get ready to run..." Rin began, but Shirou instead charged towards the direction of the roar. "You run Rin! I'll kill it!"
"Idiot! Get back here!" A flash of silver and a small spurt of blood. A clear sword wound occurred on the body of Shirou.
Shirou barely flinched, he leapt back and projected Durendal, the blade shone in his hand and glowed as Shirou swiped forward, blade meeting blade.
Another lightning quick ray of light.
Shirou had leapt back in time to cause the enemy attack to merely graze his left cheek.
The figure was clear now... an ephemeral like being. It's head was marred with battle scars, his eyes pure white, the armour he wore in shards of crimson, his rusty steel blade dripping blood.
It howled it's scream for freedom again and charged swinging the blade like the maniac it was!
Shirou defended himself as well as he could. The knowledge of Durendal had no experience in battling the swords of Japan.
The samurai's movements weren't helping either, they were seemingly random, the hunk of metal in it's right hand seemed to be in some sort of ritualistic dance that cried for sweet red liquids.
The pressure from the insane barrage of brutality were completely inhuman, Shirou had to reinforce his arms just to make sure he didn't drop his weapon from the impact of the attacks.
Shinji was frozen in fear. Rin tried preparing a spell but with the rapid movements of the warriors she couldn't get a proper aimed shot without hurting Shirou.
Furthermore the black haired kid with them wasn't a magus so... but Shirou kind of threw out the idea of secrecy quickly. The teen seemed to be concentrating on Shirou with a cold stare.
"Block to the right, Shirou!" The teen yelled and Shirou did so, the perfectly timed block unbalanced the spirit that was clearly having the upper hand until then.
"Don't order me around mongrel!" Shirou moved back as the being forced its body forward!
He didn't have much space... soon it would be close to Rin and the others. He wasn't going to let that happen!"Dodge to the left, strike his right shoulder!"
Shirou gritted his teeth as he did as he was told, a feeling of actual impact upon physical form could be felt through the force resonating through the blade.
"Up!" Flashes of metal once again. Then a flurry of them. Shirou tried to guard the storm of blows but found nothing but blood for his efforts.
"It's fighting as if every moment could mean it's death! Finish it off... duck, back and slash his waist!" Shirou begrudgingly complied, he bent down, rolled his body back, dropping his sword, then pushed forward and projected another blade, which made a shining arc as Shirou pushed forward for the final blow. The orders given were a perfect counter.
"Duren-!" Shirou reinforced the sword, filling every gap he could with his prana. He wasn't going to let this thing survive any longer!
"Dal!" The shining silver blade seemed to explode a flurry of holy light throughout the whole mansion as it ripped through the spirit, slicing it in two... it broke into pieces, finding rest.
The malice in the air was gone. Shirou took a moment to rest as his swords disappeared from the world. The first taste of killing intent in battle. It felt exciting, yet horrifying.
X
The group reached the outside of the mansion. The black haired teen was sleeping on the grass while the three magi, well technically two due to Shinji having no ability, took a few breathes and looked deep in thought.
"Tch, that was cruel Tohsaka, the moment Shirou killed that thing you knocked him out and erased his memory of the events? You really are a red devil... but I like that."
Shinji's failure of a sleazy flirt collapsed as Rin completely ignored him.
"It looks like he could see spirits easily... he even seemed to be able to predict what it did before it even happened. That thing was probably a wraith... I'm surprised the fake priest didn't get rid of it. Well I don't trust him to do his job, anyway."
Shirou was angry. "Why did I have to carry him!"
"Because he saved your life? I think that's reason enough." Tohsaka made a sly smile.
The idea of Shirou being "saved" by anybody even remotely was amusing for Rin and Shinji.
"Anyway Matou-kun can take care of it now, I mean don't you know him better then us?"
Shirou got the hint from her words, he ran off, and so did Rin.
"Wait! I don't even know his name dammit!"
Shinji growled... he couldn't leave the kid there... what infuriated him even more was that he was special, he probably had magical potential, unlike himself.
Begrudgingly Shinji picked him up... then realised that school was closed and he had no idea where the kid lived.
"T...Tohsaka!" Screamed throughout the deep dark night skies.
X
Various members of the class... including himself were dressed in traditional Japanese clothing.
It was July the 7th Tanabata.
Pretty much everyone including the teachers were in a good mood and thus allowed the clothing in school today... they were near the end of the year anyway.
Except for a single person... the red devil, Tohsaka Rin. Shirou got up and ran out of the room, hoping to head her off before she went home.
Reinforcing his legs, being careful not to exert too much strength, rushed through the halls, dodging the other students and teachers in the hall with quick and agile dodging movements, knocking some people off their feet because of the impact he made as he ran.
He charged down the stairs and leapt out! Success.
A very shocked and confused Rin store at a Shirou panting before her, trying to catch his breath.
"..Huff...huff... R-rin... dress up in yukata... now..."
Rin paused for a moment, jaw agape, before realising what Shirou meant.
"Shirou... I don't have a yukata, I'm not interested in this anyway."
Shirou got up and grabbed her arm, pulling himself up to her eye level and so close their faces were almost touching. "...I would very much like it if you attended, Rin."
Her heart stopped for a second. Then beat faster then she could ever remember, her face turning as red as the rubies she was so fond of.
"...S-Shirou, don't get so close!" She tried to move away but he kept his grip on her.
"Only when you promise to come to the festival today." No threat or malice. Not a plead nor a command. A simple beautiful statement.
"...Urgh. W-well! I'll... think about it. Can you let me go now Shirou?"
Shirou smiled and let her go, she hurried away moving quickly with her legs, as if the red blush in her face would fade away, as if she was running from it.
In a way she was. Or at least the cause of it.
X
Rin saw a large sign reading "Welcome Rin! I knew you would come!" …
She hated how Shirou could get her to do things. He yukata was red off course and had some small goldfish on it, it shone in the moonlight, in her left hand was a fan.
"Yo! Rin!" Shirou, the smiling idiot as always, dressed in a dark green kimono with golden indiscernible patterns that created a powerful and strong impression, in his right hand was a simple Japanese fan for events like these.
He ran over and grabbed her free hand with his free one, dragging her across the school grounds that had been filled with students who set up stalls and those who were enjoying the entertainment.
They made red faces and began to chatter to themselves staring at Shirou and Rin who were quickly going from stall to stall, playing the games and eating the various food quickly, Rin stumbled as she did so though.
She tried to argue that people were staring at them and that she couldn't do all these things as quickly as she was... but her words fell on deaf ears... or rather ones too excited to hear her pleas.
Shirou finally stopped after a few hours... he sat at the top of the school's main entrance steps along with Rin, in the distance he saw the twins dressed in colourful clothing, the girl had a pony tail and the guy had a small male samurai version.
Rin finally caught her breath, actually she had a chance for that when Shirou had to catch goldfish... he didn't accept defeat or no for an answer.
"Geez! Why did you have to rush it! I didn't have fun at all... I didn't even want to do this but you made me do it anyway!"
Shirou just stared at the crescent moon with a serene expression.
"Father and the Fake Priest made me do a lot of training over the years, you know that too Rin. But you have some more free time then me. I've never really participated in events like this before. It was fun...thanks for coming here."
The "thanks" was somewhat strained, as if he really didn't want to use the word. Yet he smiled regardless. Rin was screaming in her mind. "Why does he only at like this once in awhile! And why always when it's just me around!"
Usually even when alone Shirou and herself would antagonise each other. But once in a blue moon he did this. The problem was that every word he said was never regretted. They were short, simple and sweet to her ears.
Actually this was her first time too... well sort of. She could remember a hazy image of something like this a long time ago... memories of her mother came to mind.
So they sat in silence. And made the smallest of smiles as fireworks were launched in the air, igniting into a display of shooting shining stars.
Soon the Summer would be upon them. And the end of their middle school years. In the back of Shirou's mind the familiar bell he had heard for the last three or so years rang one last time.
X
Shirou was sixteen now. High school was about to begin.
And just like on his first day of middle school he was blocking the gates before anyone even got there... this time with a huge banner reading "Join me!"
The crowd of students, the ones who had known him in middle school merely sighed, wrote up notes saying "Fine" or "Alright" and "Gladly", handing them to Shirou who let them pass as he inspected each one.
Eventually the students just couldn't argue or get past Shirou and resigned with a half hearted yes, not really caring about it.
And so for the students of Fuyuki the charming red head forced his way into their hearts.
Except a few and obviously Matou Shinji. Rin... was a special case.
The day began swimmingly.
X
Shirou, for some reason did not enter the classroom, waiting for every student and the teacher to enter. The teacher was a young light brown haired and eyed woman, with a tiger striped shirt, she wore a green apron over it. She didn't seem to notice Shirou.
"I'm Fujimura Taiga your new-" She began to the class, but Shirou leapt in out of nowhere and scooped her up into his arms, carrying her like a groom would a bride.
A deep deathly silence... with looks of despair and red faces.
"From this day forth this woman is mine! Along with al you girls! Mongrel men... prove yourselves to me and we shall conquer the world with you at my feet!"
Shirou had decided to this before attending. His reason? He thought that by subjugating the teacher he could get to do what he wanted more.
...The sound of bamboo striking against a surface. Shirou winced ever so slightly.
The woman had token a shinai out of a nearby bag and has struck Shirou repeatedly with it in an instant...
Shirou's mind registered two things. Her sword skill was actually good. He could feel that due to the knowledge he gained through tracing weapons... and that the strikes actually hurt!
Shirou collapsed, dropping the woman... who landed on top of him. Shirou felt a slight energy coming from the shinai... the blade looked like tiger stripes... perhaps it was mildly cursed?
"Tiger?" He said, though it was somewhat muffled, looking at the small tiger strap at the end of the wooden sword.
The air was filled with killing intent. Like a beast staring at it's prey from afar, gearing it's heels to launch itself unto the target, sinking all it's teeth and claws into the poor creature with all of it's blood-lust...
Taiga stood up. Grasped the shinai tightly. And roared. "Don't call me Taiga!"
She growled as she smashed the blade into Shirou's forehead, causing a small bruise.
Shirou would learn not to toy with this woman in the future, but for now...
"Hey, Fujimura Sensei... did you just hit a student? ...I'm sure it would cause you a great deal of stress if I informed your superiors. I mean all my dear subjects here are witnesses to this event."
Shirou got up and made a slight mock bow, smiling devilishly at the woman.
The other students in the class just looked away. They really couldn't be bothered to get in a battle between a king and a tiger. The argument would be too tough... so they all resigned to lifting their hands up lazily, supporting Shirou.
The woman's eyes rolled round in circles of disbelief. "So... how about a deal? You teach me sword lessons and I don't tell your bosses about this?" It wasn't really open for discussion. Taiga just nodded... she messed up on the first day. She hadn't expected this.
The day then went on without a hitch, Shirou winning his place on the archery club and student council easily again... because no one seemed to bother opposing him.
X
It had been a few days since he joined high school. And a problem was already on him.
He had stayed behind in the school to repair the broken appliances. He left at sunset, hoping to get home before nightfall to avoid the priests training.
He was surrounded by large muscular men wearing black suits and sunglasses.
"So... what do you mongrels want?" Shirou's very voice seemed to get on their nerves.
"You've been coercing the bosses granddaughter... making her give you... private lessons by what we've heard... do you mind if we knock a little sense into you, kid?"
They cracked a few knuckles. Shirou smirked his bestial fang like smirk. He really liked it, it reminded him of his Father.. and the look always pissed people off. Case in point, their leader charged in and attacked him with a mix of martial arts and street fighting.
Shirou easily blocked, his strength far better then the average human due to the elixir he slowly consumed over the years, coupled with his combat training.
However their styles did off throw him a bit, he didn't particularly practice with eastern weapons and thus lacked good knowledge of how to counter the movements.
He heavily parried his opponents right punch, gripped the arm and broke it.
The man's howl of pain soared through the hearts of the other Yakuza thugs, stumbling their petty resolve to beat up a kid.
Shirou made small sly movements with this right hand, the "come on, bring it" look.
Shirou smashed his left foot into the stomach of the first man to respond to his taunt at an almost blinding speed, the thug tumbled over and began to vomit.
They attacked as a group now. Shirou softened the combination of desperate and enraged fists with careful use of his arms, and usually followed up with an attack. The problem?
They did the same. He was outnumbered. In strength surely he could win...
But skill and numbers plays a big part in battle. He was, even if by the smallest margin, being overwhelmed.
Then the thugs dropped to the floor, still as if they were dead, but Shirou could still sense their breath and he had seen... even if only vaguely what happened.
Standing before Shirou was one of the school teachers, he was tall, wore a deep dark green suit and had straight glasses, very narrow features and dark hair.
He had struck each of the thugs lightly in the neck with an unorthodox and extremely fast method of attack that Shirou barely could see let alone comprehend. There was a beauty in those precise and deadly movements.
"Teach me how to fight like that." Left Shirou's mouth.
Truthfully he was interested in Asian culture, having been raised on European culture and the information of Babylon, whenever he asked Kotomine or his Father to take him somewhere to celebrate things such as festivals they didn't care.
He was told by the King of Heroes that all other races and cultures were inferior to his own, so he shouldn't care about them, but then again children always disobey their parents every once in a while... especially at this age.
"No. You couldn't even if I was willing to teach." The man adjusted his glasses, his voice lacked almost any emotion at all. He too spoke as if his words were fact, but not out of arrogance but as a nature of the spirit in his voice.
So Shirou did the only thing logical when he was deprived of things.
Try to take it by god damned force!
"Kiyah!" Shirou tried to memorise a martial art technique as he rushed forth at the man.
He closed in and forced his being forward, reinforcing his body further and moved both arms downwards in a raking like motion.
His effort was effortlessly dodged by the teacher who swerved to the side and smashed Shirou against a nearby wall with a very basic but well formed kick.
"Kuh!" Shirou regained his composure. He felt as if the wind in his lungs were ripped out of him with that one kick!
"Baijiquan doesn't not suit you." Another dully said statement.
Shirou switched back to normal fists... for some reason he knew that move wouldn't be any fun... and he didn't like it too much anyway.
This only motivated him more, a challenge.
"Rrraaaarrrrggggghhh!" Shirou propelled his body forward with all his strength, his body was like a speeding blazing bullet, aimed straight at his opponents head!
He struck forth with a swing of his right fist! Easily parried with a swift and graceful movement like flowing water.
Shirou was struck by a well executed rising kick as he tried to find his footing.
His body fell limply to the floor for a moment... but he rose his body to stand again.
Perhaps the slightest look of surprise was on the man's face.
"Control your breathing. Keep it an normal pace at all times."
It had begun. Their fists were the wrath of the gods, their movements the ever changing sea and their kicks the sound of crumbling mountains.
It was as if it was a battle of dragons.
X
And so Shirou began to learn Eastern Swordsmanship from Taiga and various martial arts from Kuzuki Souichirou, not what he had used on that day... but still he enjoyed it. He even wore blue Chinese martial art clothing, the type seen in martial art movies when they practised.
Though to be fair the first few months were essentially Shirou ambushing the man and forcing a fight, until Shirou seemed to believe the teacher had given up resisting and gradually taught him, even if it was only a single phrase or how to keep basic form.
All in all? Shirou enjoyed life. The holy grail war was almost a distant fairy tail... but being the type of guy he was it still excited him. He wiped his head with a cloth. He smiled.
It was done. It was done! Vimana was fixed!
This was also perfect timing. He had called in the King of Heroes into the room just moments ago. A smile on his arrogant face, Gilgamesh walked and sat upon his throne, with a look of peace.
It felt good to have a treasure back. The idea that something of his was in tatters had always nagged at him in the back of his mind.
It began to float. The Gate of Babylon emerged and fired a swarm of projectiles at the closest wall.
Which then... understandably crumbled into dust. The machine flew out with the King upon it.
Shirou watched his project finally bear fruit... then the King returned.
"It doesn't move as fast as it used to! What are you doing!" The anger in his voice was high and Shirou almost cringed. It was a slight blow to his ego, he had spent most of his childhood fixing it.
"But" The King of Heroes began. "It is fixed. You've done well for a mongrel anyway. I expect you to restore it to it's former glory soon. Nothing less."
Shirou felt pride. Different from the pride of a king. The pride of a child being praised by a parent, something Shirou had not fully felt until now. Shirou bowed and began to continue his work with the King still on the machine, who took a moment to close his eyes.
This reminded him of long ago... the child hadn't done a horrible job.
"Thank you Fa-" Shirou quickly cupped his hands around his mouth hoping the King would not hear it. Last time, he ended up with broken arms. If he got caught again well... Shirou didn't like the possible consequences revolving in his mind.
The King of Heroes rarely had even remotely began to praise Shirou throughout his life.
He wasn't too spectacular as a warrior or a magus.
All he really was... was a faker. A faker of the treasures owned by the King. A faker of the King.
But... he was the King's servant, this adoration to be just like him...
Shirou was at the very least, his faker... and while not completely fine with that... no it infuriated him beyond belief that sometimes he wasn't sure why he hadn't killed the child before; but it would do for now.
X
Shirou took deep breaths as he traced Durendal again, memorising the hero who held it.
Golden armour, shiny brown hair, resolute green eyes. Shirou didn't like him too much.
He respected the warrior for his skill and determination though as well as the wish to remain loyal yet advance on the ladder of life.
The man's name was Roland, he almost always with eleven or twelve others who rivalled him in strength, defining himself as the leader and the best but below his King, the Charlemagne.
He was the type of man who would try to do everything himself... sometimes for selfish reasons and sometimes for "noble" ones.
The Twelve Paladins, peers, took care of each other, fought together and lived together.
Shirou saw a memory of Roland rushing to save a princess by himself, telling his friend Oliver and his army to stay outside so he can claim the credit. Later Oliver and his army would dress up as Saracens to scare Roland... and when he found out they all just laughed.
The man's final battle was one of ferocious proportions, Roland could have called the Charlemagne for aid using the Oliphant, but chose not to, wishing to win by himself. To prove himself.
When he finally realise he had lost he tried to break Durendal so no one would ever use it against the armies of France.
Instead the blade exerted a great force, smashing a giant crack and embedding itself in a nearby wall … which was good enough he supposed... he then blew the horn and called forth the armies that could have saved him, breathing his laugh breath with content.
Shirou didn't like the man too much, but he did like him. They weren't exactly the same.
Shirou had an urge... an ambition to rule, even if he didn't think about the problems the idea would have with his Father or the rest of the world.
Shirou then projected a marvellous and flawless katana, a blue rope pattern with the hilt and blade shining like pure silver, reflecting light in a way one would be sure they were in the middle of a water fall on a night of a full moon.
Shirou swung the katana over his own arm. No wound appeared.
Perfect. These two blades were his favourites and the best so far. Not for history or ideals... but the way they flowed and worked, the craftsmanship.
X
Shirou was fairly damn whimsical. He had been watching the news, hearing about some legendary blade uncovered and being displayed that had belonged to a powerful person. He had skipped the details and quickly noted the location and got maps of the place online.
Shirou needed a catalyst to summon a servant in the Holy Grail War. He didn't want to ask for his Father's help... so he asked for the aid of the person just below him.
"Kotomine... urgh. Gr..." Shirou grated his teeth, was there a way to ask for help without making it sound like help? Was they a way that Kotomine won't make fun of him for it?
"Good puppy." ...Shirou's face contorted to one of explosive rage.
"Your coming with me whether you like it or not!" The way he spoke would probably get anyone to side with him, the force in his voice commanded complete obedience.
"Hoh? I see, you require my help in fields that you are not particularly skilled in? Your inadequacies shall be covered by me, son." Obviously such a charismatic and imperative voice wouldn't work on a man such as Kotomine Kirei, Shirou just screamed in frustration.
"Fuck you Kirei. Really. Just shut up and follow me!"
"Very well my child, my duty as your guardian should be to protect you.
Shirou really really disliked Kotomine Kirei.
X
Step one, wait till night time, just a while before the changing of the staff, then break in.
Well that was done. Kotomine had waited outside, holding a phone. Once Shirou called he would do his part of the deal.
Shirou hid behind a rather large Greek statue of a hulking huge irregularly sized man armed with a bow and jagged blade. It was easy to hide behind this due to the sheer size, however it was likely he wouldn't get as much of a chance later, since most of the halls were wide and large.
Shirou regulated his breathing, bringing it to regular levels as he was taught.
He had decided to dress in his Chinese clothing, dark blue worked well with not getting noticed in the dark of night, normally you would expect black, but that wasn't actually the case, the sky is always, no matter what, blue.
How Kotomine did it... well Shirou actually had no clue.
After seeing the light of the guard go into the room to his right Shirou sighed and moved with quick, silent short bursts of speed, travelling near the depths of the darkest shadows, keeping away from particularly colourful paintings that may give away his location.
He had successfully moved to the next gallery, this was full of English works, seeing a few paintings and tapestries, a few rusty swords and coins.
Shirou located the easiest path to take, he kept close to the large painting of a knight looking into the distance of a moonlit lake, he made sure to avoid the large painting of two knights battling, one pierced to death by a lance as the other's body had leapt forward for a final attack.
"Tch." Shirou realised the guard of this area was just about to enter from the entrance of the next one... he would be spotted in but a brief moment. So Shirou did what he could.
Reinforcing his legs he sprinted forth at the best speed he could and smacked the guard's flash-light from his hand. The man made the obvious reaction of being startled, and in that moment Shirou buried his fingertips in a dagger like motion into his neck.
He fell to the ground without as much as a squeak. Not dead, but a little further and Shirou would have done some serious damage to the man's neck.
Then a light flashed upon him. His efforts were in vain, another person was just around the corner at that moment. "Urgh." Shirou whipped out a simple black phone.
"S-stop s-stop right there!" The man was trembling, what he had just seen was inhuman, but he found the energy to ring the nearby alarm.
"Yo. Fake Priest. Need your help. I'll be busting straight through now. So just take care of the little details..." Shirou made a mix of a sigh and groan as well as a breath of relief... he wasn't suited to stealth anyway. He closed his eyes and projected the silver katana.
Shirou swung it once with little aim behind his swing other the the general direction of the man.
The guard fell to his knees and keeled over. Shirou had been specific not to cut him, but beat him with it. This sword was indeed useful.
Shirou just began laughing heartily as he sprinted at top speeds down the hallways, sword in hand, smashing any person in his way before they could even yell. The ringing from the alarms was annoying though. A metal wall began to descend as Shirou got closer to the main exhibit.
Shirou grinned, a good time to test out a new blade... Shirou chucked his sword into the air and projected a new one, it's blade was straight and the hilt oriental and adorned in rusty like gold.
Continuing his relentless charge he gripped his the blade with both hands, focused, taking breathing back to normal conditions...
"Qing Jian!" Shirou widened his eyes and slashed forth, the metal of the door and the sword n his hand seemed to shift and turn like the tides of the seas, the gate that blocked his way seemed to melt and drip to the floor as a puddle of scrap and shards.
Shirou moved the Qing Jian to his left hand, and raised his right, catching the katana he discarded moments ago.
Shirou jumped over the jagged shards of metal and landed on shining marble floor, the room was draped in many colourful decorations of silk and cloth, shining gold, pieces of wonderful art, weapons, armour and shields.
Shirou memorised them in his mind and stepped forward, and with a single slash from his right split a large glass box. T
he glass fell apart with the cut, and the contents weren't harmed in anyway.
What was left was rusty yet simply beautiful blade.
Shirou carefully wrapped the dagger in the silk like material it was being displayed on and tucked it into a pocket. Second step, get the artefact, complete.
Step three, erase the security footage... easy. Shirou bent down and grabbed the keys from a knocked out guard and proceeded to the location, whistling as he went, Kotomine would erase the memories of every person nearby and in the museum.
So there really was nothing to worry about other then the escape, while the alarm had indeed gone off, this had happened so quickly Shirou doubted anyone had the time to relay his appearance of the details here, the alteration of memories by Kotomine would mean that no one would have any evidence of what had happened.
X
"Rejoice, Kotomine Shirou. Berserker has been summoned. The Holy Grail War shall soon begin!"
Shirou gave Kotomine a sharp glare, then made a smile. What he had been training for all his life had finally begun... a war if heroes and a chance to prove himself.
To be worthy of the King of Heroes. To be known as the best.
Shirou looked at the dagger which he knew barely anything about.
This would work for a good catalyst... it was something Shirou obtained himself.
He hadn't bothered checking the "memories" of the item, he wanted his summoning to be a surprise.
Summoning the King of Knights would have been ideal, but Shirou wanted to fight this war with only the help of his own hands and his efforts. He imagined every blade he had ever seen in his life.
Their image leading him to eternal glory and victory.
X
The little girl was truly confused. She felt warm and secure for some reason.
And thoughts of that man had began to drift back into her mind... or rather the scars opened deeper then ever before. She had recently come to Japan, in preparation for the Holy Grail War.
The servant she summoned was Berserker, a fairly obedient... provided you had the skill, servant that had enormous power that was robbed of reason.
And while that was to degrees the case... he could speak... think and idealise fine.
He followed his ideas to the death and also in this new life.
The hulking muscular figure had long tied dark blonde hair, chains and braces covered almost his entire body except his limbs. In his right hand a fairly large metallic blade that shone with a brilliant shade of grey and blue that reflected the piercing clear hazel eyes that showed no true emotion.
Ilya had been taught that her father, Emiya Kiritsugu betrayed her family and destroyed the grail.
She rejected it at first but gradually she forced herself to accept it... but the way it was told to her... she couldn't be sure if he really did. What if he died trying to win and they got it wrong? Or what if it was just a misunderstanding?
She slowly played with her clear snowy white hair and her shining scarlet eyes looked at the hero before her, as if asking for answers. She found none... but rather a solution to try to fin the truth.
Berserker fought to free those who are oppressed and the joys of battle, he rarely talked about anything else... but he had helped her.
She had escaped her maids for the day and looked at the night life of the city.
She should find her own answers. Not to just simply believe in what she was told.
Ilya for the first time... had truly began to loosen the chains she never knew she had.
X
Around 6 Months Later.
Rin was practically screaming at her soul. "How could this happen! Gone! Gone! It's gone!"
She shuffled across the drawers and desks, opening and closing them. She bended over and looked under her bed, scuttling across the floor like some sort of tiny mouse let loose from it's cage.
She got back up and screamed almost wanting to pull her hair out in frustration.
The pendant left behind by her Father, that had roughly ten years worth of her magical power in it, a n ace in the hole for when things went wrong!
And she had lost it, probably misplaced it somewhere in her sleepy dazed morning state.
First she woke up an hour early, forgetting to set her clocks back, since she had traditional clocks and wasn't particularly great with technology. This day was getting worse and worse.
She sighed and threw herself backwards unto her bed... and she felt a small painful sensation.
She had forgotten that while searching she had thrown her gems unto her bed.
Today was not Tohsaka Rin's day.