Chapter 6: A Familiar Ceiling/The Shadow
Hisashi's eyes opened to be greeted by a ceiling he knew very well. Looking around him he realized that he was back in his room, his sore body laid out on a soothing futon. He rolled in the comfortable blanket that covered him and lazily taking note of his surroundings. Nothing had changed, it was exactly the way it was before he had left that morning.
What happened to him? He tried to get up, but a numb tingle was felt throughout his left arm. He drew back his clean, white shirt and realized that there was a heavy linen bandage. Simply looking at it reminded him of what had transpired.
He and Archer were attacked by Assassin, who took the shape of one of his teachers Hideo-Sensei. Hisashi was stabbed through the shoulder and they were cornered. He thought they were dead, but in the last minute they were saved by faceless heroes. Recalling Archer's heavily wounded state, Hisashi quickly rolled out of the bed and hobbled his way over to the door as quickly as possible.
He did not need to go far, however. As soon as he opened the door there before him stood Archer. She looked as good as new, as if she didn't get into a fight at all. Hisashi couldn't help but note a small smile form on her resplendent face as she saw him.
"It is good to see that you are alright master," greeted Archer, relieved to see that Hisashi was alright.
"Good to see you too," replied Hisashi, smiling back at her, "Don't think you could hide that from me."
"Hiding what? I am hiding nothing."
"Yes you were. You were smiling," laughed Hisashi.
"I was not."
"Aw, Archer's too embarrassed to say that she was worried about me."
"If you are done with your childish remarks your mother is waiting for you in the dining room," snapped Archer plainly. Hisashi could make out the redness in her face, she really was embarrassed. The idea made him chuckle, this was the first time he had seen this side of Archer. He was used to her image of a monotone girl who always did what she was told, it was refreshing to see her in such an adorable light.
Following Archer's lead, he carefully navigated through the halls and made his way to the dining room. There he saw his mother dressed in her usual attire, or that is what his father called it, of a long sleeve, red button shirt and a dress skirt of the same color but of darker shade. Her dark black hair flowed down to her waist and over her shoulders. Her blue eyes lit up as she spotted him but she maintained her composure and took a sip from the cup of tea in front of her. Hisashi was always impressed by how her mother managed to maintain such a youthful appearance, for someone in their late twenties she didn't look a day over twenty one.
"How are you feeling Hisashi?" asked Rin, motioning for him to sit.
"I'm alright," he responded, "What happened to me?"
"We were attacked by Servant Assassin," answered Archer, "I did my best to protect you Master but I failed."
"Don't say such things Archer," said Rin, almost as if she were scolding the warrior in black, "You did a fine job."
"Well, I can remember that much but I also remember someone saving me," said Hisashi as he recalled a man that appeared before he blacked out. "Any idea who it was?"
"He called himself Kijiro Otsuzo and he was accompanied by his Servant, Rider. Rider had sensed Assassin and I during the battle. It was thanks to them that we arrived at the house in time to heal your wound," answered Archer, taking a seat at the table next to Rin. Her long black hair touched the floor and surrounded her like a makeshift blanket.
"Where are they now?" It seemed right for Hisashi to thank the men who had just saved his life.
"They left about two days ago," voiced Rin, "He was an investigator sent by the Association to reclaim the stolen documents. You are very lucky he was gracious enough to help you in your time of need."
"I know, a few more minutes and I would have be-," Hisashi paused for a minute, "Did you just say two days ago? How long was I out?"
"You were asleep for three days master," Archer affirmed in her usual monotone, "Your wound was deep and your mother spent a great deal of time healing you."
"Yes," said Rin, "It is completely healed now and you should have no trouble doing regular tasks, just try to take it easy."
"I will," replied Hisashi in awe. He looked at Archer. The last time he saw her she was completely drenched in blood and wounded from head to toe, now it was as if she hadn't gotten into a fight in the first place. "What about you Archer? Are you okay?"
Archer paused for a moment, surprised that Hisashi would ask her such a question.
"I am fine master," she replied, "We Servants tend to heal faster than the mage's who summon us."
"I can see that," he said with a smile, "It's good to know you're alright." He looked around the dining room. He noticed that his sister was nowhere in sight.
"Where's Natsumi?"
"She's in the shed," said Rin, taking another sip from her cup, "She's been blaming herself for what happened ever since you got back."
"Really? That doesn't seem like her. I figured Natsumi wouldn't give a damn."
"It would sure seemed like that at first," said Rin with a small smirk, "But she is your sister Hisashi, whether you are blood related or not does not matter. She cares about you just as much as every other member of this family."
"Well she's got a weird way of showing it."
"You should go talk to her, put her mind at ease," said Rin.
"Alright, if you say so," said Hisashi. Archer followed but Hisashi motioned for her to stop, "I think I should do this alone Archer."
"As you wish," stated the girl in black. She returned to her seat and began to pour herself a cup of tea.
"Oh, and try to go easy on her," said Rin, "I've yelled at her enough."
"Natsumi becoming worried about me? You getting mad at her? What have you done with my family?"
"Very funny."
Hisashi calmly walked through the expansive yard leading to the shed. Opening the door he saw Natsumi standing in the dark, looking up at the ceiling.
"Natsumi," whispered Hisashi, "It's me."
She turned her head and looked at him, her emerald eyes retained their everlasting calm. Without warning she ran towards Hisashi and embraced him in a hug that took him by surprise.
"Whoa," he said, "The last time you hugged me you had just blown up mother's bed with one of your gems."
"I'm sorry Hisashi," she said, trying not to break her usual air of tranquility but to no avail. It was only a matter of time before tears streamed down her eyes and she began to sob.
"You don't need to apologize," said Hisashi, "Besides, I got out of there alive didn't I? There's nothing to worry about."
"It's my fault! I let my jealously get the better of me and I just left you there." Hisashi was taken aback by her crying. For as long as he knew her Natsumi was always a calm and serene girl, never letting anything get to her and yet here she was sobbing as if she were a child again.
He patted his sister on the head and laughed. Deep inside Hisashi was happy that his sister hadn't woken him up, let alone had been there. Assassin probably would've attacked her as well and he would have been incapable of doing anything to help. He was useless, but he wasn't going to stand for it any longer.
"Natsumi," he said, looking her in the eye. He picked up a wooden sword not too far away and said, "I need you to teach me."
"Teach you what?" she wiped the tears from her eyes and gave Hisashi a quizzical look.
"I need you to teach me how to fight," he said, "The other day when me and Archer were attacked I couldn't do anything to help her. I felt useless. I can't be a spectator anymore, I can't let my inability to use magic stop me from helping the ones I love."
Natsumi smiled warmly at her brother, "I shall teach you. However we will start tomorrow morning, we should rest for tonight."
"Yes, Natsumi-sensei!" said Hisashi, saluting her. Natsumi simply shook her head and strolled back into the house. Hisashi couldn't help but smile himself. He was going to win this war. He was going to show his father, no, his entire family, what he was made of.
The midnight breeze was frigid enough to chill the flesh off of a man's body. There in the midst of the cold, dusky night stood a man in a leather jacket. A grizzled beard was on his sculpted face, reflecting the many years of his life. His left eye bore an eye patch, his right was an unnatural golden color and his cropped hair was of varying shades of brown and gray. He was propped up against a street lamp, and the light shined down on him as if it were a spotlight and he an actor on a stage.
He reached into his dark brown jacket and pulled out a cigarette along with a lighter. He placed the white stalk into his mouth and upon lighting it, slowly inhaled and exhaled. The gray fumes rose up into the black sky as he placed the lighter back into his pocket.
From the expansive gloom emerged a man that he knew well. His Servant, Rider. The warrior looked much like a young man in his early twenties. His features were soft and almost feminine in appearance. He had long blonde hair that reached his shoulders and his eyes were of a light silver blue. Upon his toned body were brilliant golden plates which covered his chest, shins and forearms. A form of studded skirt was around his midsection and he waved his hand at the smoking man.
"Rider," said the grizzled man, his voice gruff and commanding, "What do you have to report?"
"Nothing so far," said the young warrior, his voice smooth and innocent, a great contrast to his master. "Whoever is planning all this is one smart bastard."
"I'll agree with you on that one," the tip of his cigarette lit up in a vibrant orange as he inhaled. Suddenly, he began to cough violently. After slamming his chest repeatedly he managed to cause the hacking to subside.
"Geez, Kijiro," said Rider, laughing, "You need to lay off the smokes. By the time we catch this guy you're gonna fall down dead."
"This is no time to be laughing Rider," responded Kijiro, "We've been in this city for three weeks now and we haven't done anything remotely productive."
"That's not true. We did save that kid a few days back. That's productive right?"
"That is true. But now we have revealed ourselves to the other Master's. That battle hasn't gone unnoticed, I can feel it. Three Servants in one place, there was bound to have been one spectator."
"You're such a killjoy I swear. All you ever think about is work, work, work. You gotta loosen up once in a while boss. Ever since that battle I've been thinking about that Archer, she was some babe wasn't she?" Rider said so with a twinkle in his eye.
"Can you stop thinking about women for once in your life? We have a job to do."
"And that kid's mom," said Rider, ignoring Kijiro, "She was a good looking dish herself."
"Sometimes I wonder why I summoned you in the first place," said Kijiro with a sigh.
"Oh, cmon Kijiro lighten up," Rider patted his master on the back with a friendly smile, "I bet you've got a girl back home don't you?"
"Actually, I do."
"Kijiro you heart breaker, now all the ladies are gonna be sad that you're taken. What's the lucky girl's name?"
"Her name is Yamada Michiko. I met her a long time ago in the Clock Tower."
"How romantic," chuckled Rider, "So you pop the question yet?"
"I was actually thinking about doing that once I got back home. I've bought a ring and everything."
"Nice! Got a picture on you?"
"Yeah I do," Kijiro reached into his coat pocket and took out a small photo. He handed it to Rider, who took it from his Master's hand as carefully as he could. Upon the picture was a beautiful woman in her mid thirties. She wore scarlet lipstick on her soft lips and her black hair was tied up in a neat bun. She wore a lavish pink dress and beside her could be seen Kijiro. He was smiling brightly and his face was clean shaven, his eye patch still over his left eye.
"Wow, hard to believe a girl like that fell for a scary guy like you."
"Shut up," growled Kijiro, taking the picture back. He took one last glance at it before he placed it back into his jacket. "Actually, Rider I'm surprised you know so much about this time period. I didn't think they had marriages back in ancient Greece, or at least not in the same sense as we do."
"You'd be surprised what a man can learn from watching your so called T.V."
"What about you? Did you have anyone special back when you were alive?"
"I did," said Rider, "But I kind of died before we went anywhere with it."
"You talk about death as if it was nothing."
"You know what they say, death is just another adventure."
"Rider," said Kijiro with a smirk, "I honestly don't know how you go through life the way you do."
"Because I'm such a great gu-" Rider stopped in mid-sentence and he quickly disappeared into the dark, going into his spirit form.
Kijiro turned to look down the street and there appeared a small girl. She was sobbing, and tears flowed down her small face like a waterfall. She was in a tiny pink dress and her light brown hair was tied into a little ponytail.
"Excuse me," she said softly, "Have you seen my mommy and daddy? We were eating at this big restaurant downtown and I lost them." The girl's sobs echoed throughout the empty street.
"That's a good disguise Assassin," said Kijiro, throwing his cigarette to the ground. "But no family would take their daughter out for food at two in the morning."
"Hm," said the girl, her voice changing into one of nightmares. Kijiro could not actively describe it, but to him it sounded as if two people were speaking at once, one a man the other, a woman. "I will have to work on my performance next time."
"I thought you learned your lesson from the last time me and Rider defeated you," taunted Kijiro, his Servant materializing beside him in an instant. Rider was armed with a large and imposing sword in his right hand, and a round shield strapped to his left arm. On the shield was the symbol of a lion, a symbol that he had worn proudly in life.
"This time will be quite different...I promise you that." From the girl's small frame erupted three sleek blades aimed for Rider's chest. However, as soon as they neared him the three blades seemed to change their path of movement, choosing to go around the warrior instead of into him. The warrior laughed at the attacks.
"We've been over this already Assassin, there's nothing you can do against me." Rider chuckled at Assassin's attempts.
The small girl's body then began to contort and it appeared as if her bones were collapsing in on themselves. Disgusting cracks and crunches could be heard and the small girl's back ripped like paper. From the tear emerged a tall black figure, Assassin's true form. His sleek, rag covered body easily towered over his two opponents and numerous daggers continued to be flung from his midnight black cloak.
Rider simply strolled towards his opponent, the torrent of daggers continued to veer around him, as if they were avoiding contact with his flesh. In an instant, Assassin drew his blades, the blurs were virtually invisible in the cold dark, and he charged at his opponent.
He swung his rippling swords in a manic pattern, slashing wildly in various directions. But to no avail. His swords, swords that snaked around the defense of an opponent, avoided the golden warrior's body and his opponent remained unharmed. Rider swung his blade in retaliation, his golden sword whistled through the air. Assassin, leaped backwards, narrowly avoiding the blade aimed for his neck.
"You're a fast one," said Rider, staring down his opponent with a smirk.
"So are you...Achilles." Assassin's words sent shivers down Rider's spine.
"So, how'd you find out?" responded Rider, continuing to smile bravely. "I thought I was pretty good at hiding my own identity."
"Not good enough," quipped the skull faced wraith, "Strikes, blows and slashes move around you. It is as if Death itself is incapable of taking you from this world. Only one man has ever achieved an ability like that."
"Shame on me." Rider chuckled in a friendly manner.
"This is no time to be laughing Rider!" yelled Kijiro, "Hurry up and strike him down, he knows your identity!"
"There's nothing this guy can do against the Armor of Styx boss. I've got him handled." Rider said so with an air of calm. "None of his attacks will be strong enough to hurt me."
"He speaks the truth," announced Assassin, "None of my attacks will be strong enough to wound him...Which is why he will make an excellent weapon for me and my compatriots."
"What the hell are you talking about?" exclaimed Rider in confusion, "I've been called a weapon many times in my life. But I'm a weapon who fights for himself, who fights for what he believes in. What makes you think I will ever fight for you!"
Beside Assassin, from the pitch black abyss of shadow, appeared a living darkness. It's shape could not be described by any on the field of battle and the sight of it drove fear into Rider and Kijiro's hearts. They did not know what it was, but just the sight of it seemed to bring unrealized despair within them.
"You may be a weapon that fights for himself," said Assassin, a hollow laugh emanating from his unchanging face of bone white, "But soon you will be a weapon who fights for us."
"Like hell I'll be," said Rider, his sword began to glow a brilliant white and from underneath him came forth a dazzling golden chariot. Every detail of it shimmered in the night and it was drawn by two snow white lions, who roared into the blackness. "The Love of Thetis!"
His chariot glowed a bright yellow and he charged at the mass of shadow, yelling at the top of his lungs. The paws of the lions scorched the ground and left flame in their wake as they ran and their eyes glowed an amazing sapphire. Flames sparked from underneath the chariot's wheels and the wind howled like a wolf as he careened into his foe.
He collided with the dark shadow, but the result was something he did not expect. Instead of being vanquished by the power of his Noble Phantasm, the shadow began to spread all over him. He tried to cut down the ever growing darkness but he found himself being dragged into it, he was being devoured.
He looked towards his Master, Kijiro, a look of dread on the grizzled man's face. As the shadow dragged him further into itself he uttered one last word, "Run." He was soon swallowed into the abyss and disappeared from view.
Kijiro looked on in horror and dropped to his knees. That young warrior was not just his Servant. He was his friend. A friend who made him laugh even in the most trying of situations. Kijiro's fist slammed into the concrete repeatedly, until his own knuckles bled.
"What a pity," said Assassin, approaching him slowly.
Kijiro simply looked up at the skull white mask and spat. Red symbols began to appear and glow all over his body. They were runes, a specialty of his. He jolted upwards and smashed his fist into Assassin's mask, sending the cloaked assailant flying backwards and into the concrete.
"Get up you son of a bitch," Kijiro took up a fighting stance.
Assassin merely laughed and disappeared from view. In his place returned the shadow. Kijiro stared at it, intent to read it's every movement. But it did nothing but watch. In a split second it regurgitated something onto the floor, something that Kijiro did not recognize.
Slowly, the lump of darkness rose and in it's place was his old friend, Rider. But this was not Rider. It was something completely different. Cracked shadow littered his face and his once bright exuberant, silver eyes were replaced by dull and listless yellow. His once golden armor was now black and cracks of blood red could be seen upon it.
Kijiro did not wish to fight his friend, but he knew deep down in his heart, that this wasn't the Rider he knew. But at the same time he knew that if he did fight that there would be no victory. He knew Rider's abilities inside and out and there would be no possible way someone of his strength could win. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the picture of his wife, kissing it and holding it close to his heart.
"Make it quick...old friend." In an instant Rider's black sword streaked across his neck, severing his head from his body.