Shattered Blade

by DrakeValkyr

After several years of traveling the world's battlefields, Enforcer Shirou Emiya finds himself in Shin Tokyo. Leave it to him to go on vacation and end up trapped in yet another battle royal between magical beings. Inspired by Gabriel Blessing's In Flight.

8. Chapter 8: Hostile Takeovers, Part 2

Chapter 8: Hostile Takeovers, Part 2

*Story Start*

*Shirou*

"It looks like I'll be able to go home tonight after all." Takami sighed around her cigarette, the third of the night.

When I had gone to go get her things, I had arrived back to see a doctor and several aides seated at her bedside. Barely even awake and mom was already back at the grindstone handling the reports that came in while she was sleeping. Seems being a workaholic ran in the family.

And wasn't that still a strange thought to have?

After delivering their payloads, the office workers either left immediately or waited for Takami to sign or comment on the memos passed to her. Never having been in a corporate environment before, it was somewhat surreal to watch. Even after being hospitalized, the work never stopped, only backed up. I had voiced my concern about taking it easy when I had gotten back and was promptly ignored.

So I had instead joined the line of waiting people to hand her things.

Now, however, it was just the two of us again. Well, three if you counted Akitsu hovering quietly at my back.

"That's great news." I hummed in agreement. And it was. The latest report she was looking over now had been handed to her by the last doctor to come in. It also just so happened to be her medical chart. I couldn't make heads or tails of the details from where I was seated, but what comments (upside down as they were) I had caught and identified painted a good picture of her overall recovery.

Once more I was surprised by how quickly she had been recovering. A little over twenty four hours ago, Takami had been on deaths door, and now she was almost ready to walk out of here.

Okay, so walking out was an exaggeration.

Really, we'd be wheeling her out. There were strict orders from the attending surgeons that she should keep off her feet and avoid strenuous activity for the next few days while the medicine finished its course of patching her body back together.

And despite her attempts to claim otherwise, I knew from personal experience that healing from wounds like what she suffered put a huge strain on the body. Even if she appeared to be patched up, her body was still weak and needed rest in order to fully recover. It would be best to keep her in bed for another day or so, but unless we tied her to the bed that wasn't likely to happen, so confining her to a wheelchair was the next best alternative.

As someone who tried to argue her position in the past, I knew exactly how to counter her every point. Plus, I'd be around to personally ensure that she followed the doctor's recommendations. The idea of turning that Sahashi/Emiya stubbornness against her was almost as satisfying as knowing that she'd be perfectly fine at the end of the regimen.

Well, almost perfect. Due to the time it took to reach her and the severity of her injuries, there would be scars. Nothing could change that.

One of the other updates in the stack of papers was a memo saying that Minaka had finally cleared some time to talk with Karasuba and me.

"We have another two hours until when Minaka scheduled the meeting for, right?" I asked, checking the clock on the wall.

"That's right." Takami sighed, leaning back against the fluffed pillows and closed her eye, letting the report she was holding fall into her lap.

"Alright." I nodded, pensively. "Hey, are there vending machines or something around here?" I asked. It had just occurred to me that now that I had time to sit down and think properly, that it was almost a full twenty four hours since I'd last eaten.

Without the adrenalin and self-recrimination, my body was letting its displeasure known. Oh! If I was hungry, then Akitsu was probably dying behind me given what appetite she'd shown the past two – make that three – days. "It just occurred to me that we haven't eaten since sometime last night. If we have time right now, I'd like to go fix that."

"There should be a vending machine in the lobby for visitors." Takami peeked her good eye open to glower at me for not taking better care of myself. I responded with a look that said 'I had bigger things on my mind than food,' to which she huffed and closed her eye again. "But that's really shitty stuff. You have my things right?"

"Yeah." I got up to where I placed her effects at her bedside. "What do you need?"

"Can you find my I.D. pass? That should let you into the cafeteria. It's in a different part of the building, but it'll be better for you than vending junk." She said as I looked through her things for the I.D. Aha! Got it!

"Cafeteria?" I raised the pass: a picture of her face next to her name, her position and a barcode that I assumed contained her building access codes to let her through the locked areas of the building I'd seen and been let through on my journey from the helipad to the hospital portion of the building. "Would that even still be open this late at night?" I asked, holding the impression that cafeterias usually closed before 9pm.

"Yeah, that's it." She confirmed. "We keep it open almost 24 hours, actually. We have a lot of projects running around the clock, so we need to keep our night shift fed too. You should have plenty of time to go eat before Minaka and the others are ready for later."

Others? Right, I suppose I'd be meeting Karasuba's coworkers as well when dealing with Minaka. That could be problematic. Or it could be ideal. Really, at this point it could go either way. Stay sharp Shirou, you have to be on the ball if you want to work this in your favor.

Remember the plan.

"Get my chair and I'll lead you there." Takami flicked the last of the ashen end off the finished cigarette and dashed the embers.

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"I mean that you," I emphasized with a pointed stare. "Are going to stay in bed and rest. Doctor's orders; you still have another hour and change of observation left anyway." Takami's recovery was a part of the reason why the meeting with Minaka was pushed off for so long. Ideally, she would have been held overnight at the bare minimum, but Takami had thrown her considerable weight around in getting that time drastically shortened. Unfortunately, there was a lot of work for MBI to do in the meantime about 108's forest and its effects on the city. As it was, the meeting was scheduled for the moment Takami was cleared to get out of bed.

"You don't even know where you are going," She argued. "Just let me show you."

"No." I said firmly. If I had my way, she wouldn't even be leaving tonight and she knew it. So it was the least I could do to make sure that she stayed for the bare minimum time she was supposed to. "You stay in bed. Call Minato and Yukari. Get some rest." I handed her phone to her. "I'll just ask for directions. Shouldn't be too hard, right? And I know the kids would feel better to hear the news from you."

I really shouldn't call them kids. They were almost fully grown, after all. But they were sheltered and immature in a way that only the young and the innocent could be. It wasn't a good comparison, but I held them in the same light as Illya. While she was technically my senior (something that I had been greatly surprised to find out), I couldn't help but think of her and treat her as the child she (usually) acted as.

It was the same with my younger siblings. They really were just children.

"But…" She took the phone, looking torn. I guess I couldn't judge her too harshly: as a workaholic control freak with an active-dominant personality, sitting idly by was probably torture for her. "Fine. You're right. I'll give them a call while you're out. It will be good to hear from them as well." Having said that, her expression softened. Really, she was such a softie underneath all that bluster.

No, not bluster.

She was tough. She had to be in order to bounce back from her attack as quickly as she had. It probably helped that she was also a single mother and successful corporate worker. She was tough because she had no choice but to be strong.

My siblings had both inherited parts of her character. Minato had her kind side, the side of her that reached out to love even a complete stranger. Yukari had all the vigor and spice that drove her forward and succeed against the odds.

Idly, I wondered if I shared any part of my birth mother except the premature whitening of our hair. In the end, I concluded it didn't matter. If I ever had such a connection, I had probably given that to the caldera's flames along with everything else.

That was just the way things were.

Hadn't I said that Shirou Emiya is not Ichirou Sahashi?

"Then you make your calls. I'm going to go get us some food, would you like anything?" At her negative response I continued. "Okay. See you in a bit." With that Akitsu and I left the room, the sound of Takami punching numbers behind us.

"Minato –" I heard her speak into the phone just as I finished closing the door behind us.

"Emiya-kun." The faint scent of blood cutting through the antiseptic smell of the hospital alerted me to her presence before I had even stepped into the hallway. That said, I was surprised to hear her address me as my actual last name, and not a variation of my birth name.

"Karasuba." I greeted her as I turned to face her. She had used the time I'd been with Takami well, it seemed. Ever since we… well, since she kissed me she had been acting off. Like something was weighing heavily on her mind.

My money was that she was dwelling on the very thing I was: our newly formed contract. After we had kissed, when she opened her eyes she looked so shocked, and I couldn't shake the feeling that her surprise wasn't from the dagger I'd pulled on her. There was just something off about the look she had given me.

Now, leaning against the wall opposite of Takami's door, she looked just as calm and composed as she did earlier this morning. Actually, she was in the same pose, almost identical greeting… the only differences between now and then was the presence of Akitsu and Karasuba's hair being… wet?

"Did you take a bath?" I blurted. That wasn't what I meant to say, but it was still a relevant question. Beyond just the wet hair, her skin was looking more healthy and lacked the smudges and dirt and her clothes lacked the ruffles and tears sustained while we were wrestling on the ground.

She smiled in that familiar, predatory way she had. "Yes, I did." Oh, she was just gloating because I still looked bedraggled from our fight in the woods. My clothes still showed the gaping holes and bloodstains where her sword pierced my armor. It was a small comfort, but at least the majority of the wounds I'd sustained had healed.

My ribs on my left side were still tender where she bruised them, but at least I no longer had trouble breathing. Or moving my arm.

Shaking off my envious thoughts of being able to clean myself up, I got straight to business.

"I didn't expect to see you yet, but I'm glad you're here." That… wasn't strictly true. Really, anyone who knew the layout of the building would have been preferable. That said I did need a guide so that I didn't get lost looking for food. Plus, now wasn't the time to go snooping around the building yet. I had no idea what kind of surveillance or security they had set up.

Oh, and I think I trusted Karasuba more when I could see her and keep an eye out for whatever she had planned. At least when she was around I had a good idea of what she wanted. When she was missing… who knew what she was up to… except that it was probably bad news for me.

More often than not, it seemed she returned with an attempt on my life.

"Really?" Unlike earlier, she wasn't surprised by my statement. Instead, she smiled as if my being glad to see her was a given. Damn, I was hoping that would work to gain the upper hand again. Worse, judging by the rapidly dwindling temperature in the hallway, Akitsu may have misinterpreted my statement as well.

"Yes." I continued, figuring it was best to get this over with so I could work on figuring out why she was down here waiting for me. "You work here, so you know your way around the building. We're looking for the cafeteria. I'm guessing that you haven't eaten since this morning either, so would you mind taking us there?"

"Hmm." Karasuba drew out the hum as if she was considering it, shrugging off the wall to close the distance between us. Admittedly, the action made me a bit nervous, given the events of this afternoon. "Well, I came down here to ask if you wanted to meet the rest of the squad before we met with the board. But if you want to go eat instead…"

"No." I held up a hand as she drawled off, holding the 'ead.' Yes, I was taking her bait, but it was very good bait. The truth was that I very much wanted to meet her coworkers before I met with Minaka. If I could get an in with them, get one of them to advocate for me in the upcoming discussions, that would be perfect. "That actually sounds like a great idea. Akitsu, can you wait to eat till we get home, or should we get something on route?"

"Ah." Akitsu turned her head slightly to regard me from where she'd been laser focused on Karasuba. "I can wait if you wish me to."

That…

"That wasn't what I was asking, Akitsu." I started.

"Great!" Karasuba interrupted as I was about to continue. "Then there's no problem. Come on and I'll introduce you to the girls."

With that, Karasuba turned on her heel and started to lead the way down the hall, not bothering to look to see if we were following or not. An inquisitive glance at Akitsu was most unhelpful, as she just continued to stare at me, ultimately waiting for me to make the decision. With the only options left being to follow her, stand around looking dumb, or get lost… I went against my better judgment and decided to follow the ashen haired demoness. As much as I hated to admit it (and I really, really did), I think I needed her right now.

If not, then at least things might be easier with her around. The benefit of being a magus, even as terrible of one as I was, was that it made convincing myself of something very easy.

Besides, Akitsu was being decidedly unhelpful.

"Are you sure you're okay with waiting?" I asked Akitsu as she followed me in Karasuba's wake. I told myself that I'd try to treat her in a more appropriate manner – that of a person and partner and not as a weapon – but Karasuba's offer was too valuable a possibility to give up.

"Ah." She tilted her head to regard me, but I noticed she never let Karasuba leave her field of vision. "I will do so, Shirou-sama."

Yes. Decidedly unhelpful.

With a sigh, I kept after Karasuba, Akitsu trailing on my heels.

"It took you long enough." Karasuba drawled as we caught up. "I almost thought you weren't coming."

My eyebrow ticked. She had gotten maybe 20 paces from us before we followed. That was barely even halfway down the hall. "You know, I'm surprised you have coworkers. With your charming personality I figured you'd have killed them all by now."

I may still be harboring (not so slight) resentment from earlier.

"Aww, you think I'm charming." Karasuba's teeth flashed in the overhead lights. The gesture was more fierce than charming, but that was just like the woman. Demon. Alien. Thing. "And don't be so quick to judge, Emiya-kun. I like to save the fun stuff for people I really care about."

I snorted in disbelief, drawing a chuckle from the woman.

"I will admit that you're right in this instance. We're a little shorthanded right now and I've been…" She trailed off, likely searching for the word.

"Discouraged? Rebuked? Explicitly told not to?" I offered.

"Politely asked to refrain." She countered. "From killing off the new blood."

"New blood?" For as long as we'd been talking and… I tried to come up with a word other than 'hang out,' but all I could think of was 'occasionally goad into (halfhearted) attempted murder,' in the past month, I realized I didn't know exactly what Karasuba did for MBI.

Granted, I had picked up that she was a magically empowered enforcer on their payroll pretty quickly; having her sent to threaten and/or kill me in our first meeting was something of a clue. Plus that aspect had come up in previous conversations.

That she was apparently part of an entire 'squad' of Sekirei MBI had at beck and call, however, was news to me. Very unsettling news. It might be due to my background and experiences… but the unbidden thought of a dozen Karasubas, all staring at me and pawing their swords, came to mind. I had to hold back a shudder. "Just how many Sekirei are working for MBI anyway?"

"This iteration of the Disciplinary Squad only has three members." This iteration? How many iterations could there have been in… how long have Sekirei even been around? I had to resist the urge to groan. I felt like I was stumbling my way through the Grail War again; every answer I seemed to get only brought up two more questions. "There's myself, Benitsubasa and Haihane."

"Just the three of you?" I couldn't help but be surprised. "Is that enough to… do whatever it is that you do besides threatening poor tourists and committing petty theft?"

"We might have had more members in the past, but we've managed with less." She bit off a bit tersely before shrugging. "And no, we don't just 'threaten and steal from poor little tourists.'" She sent a mocking smile my way. "That's one of the fringe benefits."

I'd like to believe the scowl I sent her as means of reply to be one-hundred percent absolutely justified.

"But no, mostly we're on call to handle anyone trying to interfere with the game: corporate spies, kidnappers, escapees, etc. Those are the boring cases that I usually give to the others." She waved a hand as if swatting something annoying. So yes, pretty much MBI's magical 'muscle.' I wasn't sure if the idea that Karasuba was in a position to delegate cases to her coworkers was comforting or not.

"Every so often we have to visit some upstart Sekirei or Ashikabi who tries to break the rules. Petty things like revenge on old lovers or robbing a bank – boring human things. Until today, we hadn't had an incident where widespread damage or threat to the game has been involved in a little over a decade – not since the last Disciplinary Squad."

"The last squad? How many iterations have there been?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Three." She hesitated before answering. "The first one was the largest with five of us. This was when MBI was only just a concept, barely off the ground. As the company grew though… well, the others left and I was the only one who stayed." I think I was approaching a sore topic. Gone was her confident, playful and maybe a little sadistic tone – the one I'd come to equate with her 'pleasant' moods. It had been replaced with a more… reflective monotone.

"There was only one other and myself in the second." She continued.

"And you've been in each one?" She gave a slight nod. "That's some loyalty." I complimented freely. It was shocking. I wasn't sure how old Karasuba was… but MBI raised the Sekirei, including her. For her to work with them (or for them) for her entire life was… I didn't even know how to properly put it into words.

Instead of mocking me (like I thought she would) or disregarding the compliment (the other alternative I'd considered), Karasuba gave a strange smile.

"They don't call me the 'Black Dog of MBI' for nothing."

*Shirou*

As we walked through the complex, I became truly thankful for Karasuba acting as our guide. Despite her definitely having ulterior motives, I would have gotten Akitsu and I quite lost in the immense and winding structure. In order to leave the hospital subsection of the building to reach Karasuba's… office, I was guessing, we needed to exit through a different lobby than the one we'd entered through. Where the one lobby was the front entrance, this seemed to be a 'back door' into the office space part of the sprawling complex.

For how the building dominated the Shin-Tokyo skyline (when viewed from Takami's balcony), I never really appreciated how big it was until we started walking through it. The building was broken up into sections it seemed, with each sub-building devoted to a certain aspect of MBI's business.

However, as we continued further into the building, past these specialized subsections, the journey began to prey upon my paranoia. As I looked around, I began to notice that the hallways were more and more defensible the deeper we went towards the center of the building.

The office, the motor pool, the hospital, those places were easier to navigate because those were the places where the most work was done. They had to follow a somewhat standard layout or else productivity would be compromised.

But in this new section, where I could only assume that we had entered the area beneath the clock tower, the building had become a different beast all together.

Now I was (somewhat) glad that I had spared Karasuba. If I had to fight down here in the bowels of the building it would be a nightmare. For the uninitiated into the proper ways of navigating the building (such as myself), it would be so easy to get lost, to turn into a blind corner or get turned around all together. Between the easy ambushes and time wasted finding the right way to go, anyone trying to besiege MBI with ground or infiltration forces were signing up for a massacre.

Now that I'd seen it, the only way I could think of handling fighting down there devolved into two options. The first was to be the defender: know every intersection and every corner and let the enemy file into your kill zone. The second involved massive structural damage: you couldn't get lost or ambushed if you negated the enemy's ability to use the terrain.

The last elevator took us to the very top of the building, away from the tangled nightmare of corridors below and into something much more reasonable. Also more lavishly decorated. This must be where Minaka and the other CEOs and big wigs did all their business and meetings. Halls were lined out for easy access and pleasing aesthetics. Gone too were the harsh florescent lights off black white walls, favoring wood paneling and softly lit wall sconces.

"Well, this is it." Karasuba gestured to a set of wooden double doors, western style. "Welcome to the Disciplinary Squad HQ, Emiya-kun. Trash, you can leave now."

"Karasuba." I groaned. Really, it would be a blessing if they could just get along, but given Karasuba's belligerent nature that was probably an impossible dream.

"Fine." She huffed, ignoring me and opening the door, "But trash doesn't say anything and doesn't touch anything. This is my kingdom. In fact, do us all a favor and don't breathe either."

Impossible dream indeed.

The room was, much like the rest of the interior of the clock tower, constructed and decorated in a distinctly European style. If it weren't for the fact that it was so eerie to be surrounded by such familiar architecture all the way in Japan, it might have even been comfortable. The floor was patterned in alternating black and white tiles, arranged in a starburst pattern originating from the center of the room. In the center of the starburst was a decal of a winged bird in flight done in dark grey.

The far side of the room opposite the door we entered through was dominated by a ceiling to floor window stretching from one corner of the room to the other. We must have been above the clock face given the sprawling view of the city. In the dark of night, the surrounding buildings were illuminated by thousands of lights, presenting a beautiful glimpse of the city's nightlife.

Idly, I wondered if Takami's apartment was visible from here, or if the window faced a different part of the city.

Overlooking the window was arranged a rough semicircle of several plush chairs and a couch. One the walls flanking the door behind us were several weapon racks. Most of them were empty, but the others contained a variety of one and two handed swords. They seemed to be arranged by size and edge type (single edged blades with other singles, doubles with doubles), as I could identify that they weren't organized by geography, era, or forging process.

On the left was a series of dark green exercise mats strapped together with Velcro and opposite it was a water cooler and several office desks clustered together.

More importantly, however, was that standing in the center of the room talking were two women. I didn't even have to guess that they were both Sekirei. It was hard to tell with the strong copper smell of fresh blood and the (slightly) weaker scent of cool mountain air, but as soon as I entered the room two faint hints of fire and baked earth briefly crept through the other two, stronger scents.

The combination of the two smelt distinctively and worryingly like saltpeter; a smell I was only too used to actually smelling.

"Hey, Karasuba!" The woman on the left called over as she noticed my ashen-haired companion enter the room.

She was young looking, maybe late teens or early twenties by human standards. Long pink hair was pulled tightly to the left, tied up in a side ponytail by two daisy clips. She was wearing a black kimono like top with long, fitting sleeves that billowed out at her wrists. The top was adorned with two white, bird-like crests on either lapel – the same crest that adorned Akitsu's forehead: the image of a small, short-beaked bird in midflight, resting over a yin-yang that was flanked by two tama on either side. A large bow, the same color as her hair, rested at her right hip and tied her top together.

She was slightly short; I guessed her height at a little over five feet, give or take, and was all leg. Said legs were adorned with pink, thick-heeled boots that reached mid-calf. The entire ensemble was completed by black biker shorts partially obscured by the hem of her shirt. "Do you have any idea why we're meeting here? I'd have asked Natsuo-kun but – Karasuba, who is that with you?" Her greeting trailed off into a distracted question as she noticed that Karasuba wasn't alone.

"Oh? Is that him?" The other woman gasped in what I thought was excitement. Honestly, it was a little hard to tell with her raspy tone and half-lidded eyes.

In contrast to the semi-uniforms that Karasuba and the first woman wore, this one was garbed in something a lot stranger. To start, she was wrapped neck to toe bandages, like a mummy, over which she wore the most threadbare and mostly shredded black kimono hanging (barely) from her shoulders and cutting off (in some places literally) at her knees.

No, wait…at second glance it seemed that she was wearing the same top as the girl next to her, it was just so heavily damaged that it was all but impossible to tell.

Clasped around her neck was a thick, studded leather collar – complete with a heavy metal ring hanging off the front. Her chin length grey hair, colored just a shade lighter than Karasuba's own ashen grey, was styled in bangs that hung over and concealed her left eye.

The last and most peculiar piece of her ensemble were the clawed gauntlets: segmented metal plates covered the outer parts of her arms from elbow to wrist, strapped on by thick leather bands and buckles along the inside of her arm. Rising from along the back of her hand to stretch over her fingers were 40cm long blades tipped with wickedly barbed hooks. She raised one of those massive claws to her forehead as if to shield her eyes form the sun (yes, we were indoors and yes, the windows were behind her). "Oh, wow, he's a cutie!"

Um… thanks?

I was just going to leave that… yeah.

"What are you talking about?" The strawberry-blonde scowled at the taller girl before turning a discerning glare in my direction as she gave me a once over. "He doesn't look like much to me. Besides, Natsuo-kun is much cuter!"

"Pft! Hahaha!" The grey haired girl doubled over laughing… or, I think it was laughing. Really, it was more of an amused, if rasping, 'hehehe.' Well, that was she started to laugh, but at some point those heavy claws of hers must had punctured her sides as she cried out and fell to the ground.

Concern warred with disbelief, and I almost rushed over to her to stop her innards from spilling out onto the polished marble flooring when it occurred to me that neither Karasuba nor the other girl moved an inch to help her. Nor did they look at all concerned. They were just watching as she writhed on the floor and… there was no blood or organs spilling out?

"That serves you right for insulting Natsuo-kun!" No, instead of helping, the pink haired one stood over the downed girl, and gloated over her injuries.

"Both of you are idiots and I should kill you." Karasuba said in that worryingly neutral tone she used whenever she threatened someone's life. Well, someone other than me. Actually, that was more disturbing: when threatening me she tended to smile. And sound happy. I may be regretting my decision to spare her. "Now quit messing around and get over here. I want you both to meet someone."

"Ugh, fine." The shorter girl whined and left her partner on the floor to come approach Karasuba. "You never answered who this guy is anyway."

Her eyes flicked past me and her face fell into a scowl. "And who is that bimbo behind you. She isn't joining us, is she?" She asked with a growl.

"Yes, Karasuba-sama!" the other girl answered as she hopped up from where she was writhing on the ground moments before and followed over at a light trot. Was her display just an exaggeration – no, there were new tears in her already threadbare and shredded shirt and small pink dots on the bandages worn underneath. She really did stab herself with her own weapons… and then healed the wounds? The edges of her claws didn't have any blood on them either.

Interesting.

But more importantly then that – no, wait. Not more importantly, given that I had the vague suspicion that her wounds (or lack thereof) had something to do with her abilities as a Sekirei, but it wasn't what weighed on my mind at the moment.

"Shirou, these are the other two members of the Disciplinary Squad. This is Benitsubasa." She gestured to the scowling pink haired girl. "And this is Haihane." Haihane interrupted with a 'hello' and a wave of her claw, to which Karasuba glared at her until she stopped. "Girls, this is Shirou Emiya, my Ashikabi."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both." I greeted them both, bowing respectfully. "Please take care of me."

Both my greeting and proper manners were ignored, however, as neither girl responded in the culturally appropriate manner I had expected with their having been raised in Japan and by a Japanese company.

"No way!" The pink haired one – Benitsubasa – exclaimed incredulously instead. "I don't believe it!" She gave me a gob smacked look, blatantly looking me up and down. "But you… You never… Oh, I get it! Very funny, this is a joke, right? You actually finding an Ashikabi of your own?" Oddly enough, she laughed. Was that... was I missing something? "Seriously, who is this guy? At least she looks like a Sekirei."

That last remark was obviously meant for Akitsu, given that mistaking her for a normal human was a bit of a stretch (and impossible if you knew what a Sekirei was).

"Wait. He isn't a Sekirei is he?" Her glancing me over immediately turned into an angry glare. "Let's get something straight right here then. Natsuo is off limits. Try anything and I'll kill you."

"Hiya." In complete contrast with her partner, Haihane favored me with a half-lidded look and a wiggling of her fingers. The movement was only accentuated as the more-than-a-foot-long blades attached to said fingers flashed dangerously in the light. What might have been loosely considered a shy gesture aimed to be cute by the young woman, those blades made it comically horrific (or maybe that was just horrific).

"And just what, Benitsubasa." Karasuba's teeth flashed dangerously. "Are you trying to imply when you say 'me actually finding an Ashikabi?'"

Horifically comical maybe? It was like being cooed at by Edward Scissor-hands. Edwarda Scissor-hands? Edlyn? I shook my head, either way it was vaguely (and not so vaguely) disturbing. Although, the more horrifying thing about this was the… things – I hesitated to call them weapons – attached to her hands.

"I mean… you know." Benitsubasa started hesitantly, "Out of everyone… Like any of us ever thought you could get along with a human! You can't really expect us to believe that you, of all Sekirei, found yourself an Ashikabi. Or… one you didn't kill yourself at least. I think I could see that happening."

I mean… yeah, they looked intimidating. And sure, given that she was on MBI's personal squad of magically empowered enforcers, I had no doubt that she was a deadly combatant. Despite my arguable prowess at fighting, however, I was at my very core (almost quite literally) more of an armorer than an arms man.

It was that nature, as someone who creates weapons, which had me cringing at what I was seeing.

"Hey, Karasuba." I interrupted just as she took in a breath to respond with what was probably a brutal and merciless dressing down; given the look she was giving the smaller woman. "Who provides you Sekirei with your weapons?"

"What?" Karasuba turned abruptly, the bite from her aborted comment to Benitsubasa coloring her tone. "Wait, what?" She repeated blinking in confusion as my question penetrated her thoughts.

"I was wondering who provided your weapons." I reiterated. "So far I've seen three of you weapon types and the only one with a conventional weapon." I wasn't going to count Yomi's scythe as a conventional weapon given that even when it was considered a weapon, it was hardly ever conventional.

She gave me an odd, incredulous look before shrugging.

"Well, the first Disciplinary Squad members were all given a specially made katana. I think it was supposed to be some sort of symbol or something, but it was good enough to fight an army with, so whatever." She started. "That said, only half of us could use a sword for shit: Matsu and Kazehana couldn't fight with a weapon to save their lives and Mutsu… I actually don't know why he kept is – I'm not sure I've ever actually seen him use it."

The names didn't ring any bells, nor did I expect them to, but I tried to commit them to memory anyway.

"It was only around the time that the group after us were hatched that MBI changed up the policy of giving us swords." She continued. "I think that's around the time that the distinction between power types like Benitsubasa here and weapon types like Haihane and me were made."

"You're a power type?" I blinked at Benitsubasa, unable to hide my surprise that she was a power type like Musubi and not and elemental type like Akitsu. From the 'scents' I picked up when I first entered the room, I had pegged her as the origin given her lack of weapons.

I ignored Karasuba's scowl at me for interrupting her.

"Yeah, I am." Benitsubasa asked. Coincidentally, just as Karasuba took in a breath to resume speaking, by the twitch of her fingers on the hilt of her nodachi. "Why, does that matter?"

"Oh, not really. I just assumed that you'd be an elemental type or something." I answered truthfully. It would have made much more sense, even disregarding the brief smell of saltpeter, if she were an elementalist instead of a third close range combatant.

"But I am an elemental type." Benitsubasa's face scrunched up. "I'm just not one of those weak ability types."

"Benitsubasa is a power type, Emiya-kun." Karasuba clarified before I could voice my puzzlement, pulling my attention back to her. "There are a few Sekirei that mix and match natures, and Benitsubasa is one of them: predominantly fist type, but with a small sub-elemental type influence. However, I think that you meant you thought she was an ability type elementalist like the Scrap Number, yes?"

"If by that you mean a ranged element user like Akitsu, then yes." I nodded. Why couldn't MBI have come up with a convenient class system for their magical death match? Then at least the terminology would match up properly and there would be much less confusion on the part of newcomers.

Once more I thought what I would give for Master's Clairvoyance.

"Why'd you think Washboard-chan would be an ability user?" Haihane asked, causing Benitsubasa to shriek in indignation.

Washboard-chan?

Never mind, I don't think I want to know.

"As the only one of you three without weapons, it made sense from a tactical standpoint if you were an ability type rather than a power type." I explained. "Given Karasuba's penchant for swordplay, I figured that she was the frontline fighter of the three of you. If the enemy is a power type, then she should be able to match or surpass them. If you were an ability type rather than a power type, I would have figured your job was to provide ranged support for her: either by assisting her in her attacks or negating the enemy's ability user. Haihane of course would then strike at the Ashikabi while their Sekirei were otherwise occupied."

Basic tactics: draw out the enemy, negate their advantages and strike at their weakness.

"Hey, wait… why am I the one that is going after the Ashikabi and not fighting?" Haihane exclaimed.

"Are you hard of hearing now too, Grandma? The new guy realized you were the weakest of us at first glance." Benitsubasa gloated smugly. "How does it feel to know that even complete strangers consider you only good enough to fight humans?"

I felt my eyebrow twitch at the causal (and maybe justified) racism being thrown about. Or was it speciesism. Xenoism? Of course… this was coming from the man whose secondary job was to kill that which wasn't human (also Magi), so I suppose it went both ways.

"This coming from the girl I'm paid to baby-sit?" Haihane shot back.

"You baby-sit me? I'm the one they have accompany you everywhere!"

"Oh, yes." Haihane rolled her visible eye. "And did that start before or after you failed to complete any mission without bringing down a whole building down?"

"That was only the one time!" Benitsubasa reddened. "And I don't see why you continue to harp on that; we completed the mission didn't we?"

"Maybe because you dropped a building on me?"

"It was hardly a whole building, just the parking garage." Benitsubasa huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Besides, I don't see what the problem is; you survived, didn't you?"

"That I survived isn't the point…"

"Are they always like this?" I asked Karasuba.

I was dumbfounded as the girls bickered about when it was or was not appropriate to bring down a building on teammates. This was the best MBI had to offer to enforce the rules of their city wide death match and protect the city, its inhabitants and the contestants?

Granted, those in glass houses shouldn't throw stones but…

Sure. I had used a similar if not identical tactic on some of my missions as an Enforcer… and maybe on a few more personal vendettas. Blowing out the support columns of the building(s) your target has fortified was apparently a time honored Emiya tradition – one that 'proper magi' seemed never to learn from either.

But I had never done so while a teammate (and I used the term loosely) was inside said building at the time.

…Okay, there was that one time, but they were being eaten so it was probably justified.

"Pretty much." Karasuba shrugged, not even paying attention to the argument. No, wait, now it had devolved into petty insults. "This is usually about the time I threaten to kill them in order to shut them up."

"Only threaten to kill them?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Well, no." The hint of a smile tugged at her lips. "And if you two don't stop talking right now I'll demonstrate."

The two girls immediately stopped, eyes darting from Karasuba, to her sword and then to each other before Benitsubasa let out another irritated huff. She didn't, however, say anything more.

"That's better. And not that I'm not having fun listening to you belittle my cute little subordinates, but that wasn't the reason I brought you up here to meet them."

"Hey, to be fair, I wasn't belittling anyone." I defended myself.

"Weren't you just saying how Haihane was too weak to fight other Sekirei?" Benitsubasa asked, before shutting her mouth with an audible click as Karasuba glanced at her.

"No, I never said anything like that. I merely gave my thoughts on what tactics you three might employ in a hypothetical situation given my mistaken assumption that you were an –"

"Ability type." Karasuba supplied for me when I looked to her.

"– Yes, an ability type." I finished.

"Question." Haihane raised one of her claws like this was a classroom. "So why am I the one who doesn't get to fight?"

"Tactics." I spoke without even needing to think about it.

"Okay." She nodded. "But why am I the one that doesn't get to fight?"

I…. wasn't sure how to respond to that. And given the varying expectant looks I was being given from the surrounding Sekirei, I had the creeping feeling that my 'basic tactics' were something they had never really considered.

"Your weapons…" I trailed off slowly.

"That's right." Karasuba interrupted me this time. "You were asking about how we got them, right?" At my nod, she continued. "Well, as I was saying: it wasn't until the generation after me that every Sekirei stopped receiving a sword and the distinction between weapon and fist aligned power types. Come to think of it… that was around the time I switched to a bigger sword too." Mused the ashen haired woman.

I had wondered how she evolved to using the nodachi when she said she was first given a katana.

"So MBI provides you with your weapons." Which was obvious, but lead to a more important question; the one I wanted to know. "But how do they decide who gets what? Like how did that Yomi girl end up with a scythe of all things? Or Haihane, how did you end up with your… claws?"

"Well, it wasn't quite MBI at the time when we all got swords, just the founders. Once the company started to get big, that was when the policy change came about. As to your question… huh." Karasuba actually looked stumped. "I'm not sure. When I wanted to trade for something a little longer than the katana they'd given me, I just got this in return." She patted the hilt of the nodachi fondly. "It's worked well enough for my tastes, so I've never questioned it."

I'll bet it has. My body was still sore in places from just how 'well enough' she handled that great sword in our duel.

"Um, I think I can – Ow!" Haihane started to answer, drawing our attention to her, but as she entered a 'thinking pose' the tip of one of her wickedly curved blades slid seamlessly (but no doubt painfully) into her lower lip. "Owowowow!"

Whatever she was going to say was cut off as she danced around – more like flailed around – in pain. Taking a step closer to Akitsu (and noting how Benitsubasa and Karasuba each took a step away from the flailing girl), I began to have second thoughts as to the validity of my plan. What I was seeing was nothing like what I had imagined when Karasuba had first told me of her involvement in MBI's, and I quote, "top enforcement team."

Granted, from what I've learned of Karasuba over the past month, she could (and probably did) consider it the 'top team' merely because she was involved in it. She could be arrogant that way.

"As I was saying, I think I can answer that one." Just as abruptly as her little fit started, Haihane wiped the blood off her chin and picked up just where she left off. In fact, the only evidence of her self-inflicted was a small bisection of her lip and the blood dripping off her index blade. "My adjuster had a lot of trouble finding me these claws." Once more she wiggled the blades attached to her fingers.

"Yeah, at first he thought I was a fist type like Washboard-chan here, but it never felt right to me. So he asked me a lot of questions and then ask me to try some things, followed by more questions and more tests. Eventually, I was given these!" She ended cheerfully.

I think.

Honestly, it was a little hard to tell based on her vocal cues alone given her low, raspy voice. Actually, considering her half-lidded expression, I wasn't sure I could tell based on her non-verbal cues either. And with half her face covered by her light grey hair, it made getting a reading on her quite difficult.

"So you don't choose your own weapons, but are given them based on some sort of…" I fumbled for the right words to use, but not finding any I settled for some that were close enough. "Personality test?"

"Er… not exactly." Haihane fidgeted. "I think the questions were just to figure out what type of weapon I was comfortable with. I know I tried out other things, like swords and daggers and stuff, but it wasn't until they gave me a pair of shuko that I think they figured out I was a bit different."

"Why such interest?" Karasuba interrupted, giving me a discerning glance. I took a moment to consider what I learned from Haihane's most fascinating little anecdote before answring. It explained something I hadn't even thought to consider yet.

"I'm interested because weapon smithing is a hobby of mine." I lied: forging weapons was my life (or something like that). I continued on without giving Karasuba the time to retort, and directed a nod towards Haihane. "But I must admit that in this case, my interest stems from the nature of your claws. Frankly, it seems to me that whoever designed those claws was thinking 'this is how the weapon should look like,' and not 'this is how the weapon should function.'"

At their blank stares at my admittedly poor wording, I continued.

"What I'm trying to say is that: while your weapons, and by extension you, might look intimidating, they are ultimately a liability in a fight."

"That's not true." She countered with (probably justified) indignation. "I can fight plenty well."

Listening to Haihane, it suddenly occurred to me that Yomi might have had a similar problem with her own unconventional weapon.

In our fight (and despite my admittedly easy time dismantling her) every move the girl made was perfectly executed. Mechanically perfect, that is. Her main weakness was that I had experience fighting against high level opponents and she didn't, so when her speed and strength were no longer superior, she couldn't make up for it with technique, tactics or strategy.

Yomi's scythe, much like Haihane's claws, was also oddly designed. Structurally, it had a number of additions that did little to nothing for its use as a weapon and were there more for aesthetics than anything. Hell, the corkscrew at the base of the blade hadn't even been properly counter weighted against the blade it was supposed to support: just one of the factors that made disarming her easy.

I was willing to bet that that same oversight was given to the woman in front of me. It was an insidious point too, because if you learned your movements on inferior equipment, you ingrained bad habits – lethal habits – into your muscle memory.

"I didn't say you couldn't, nor did I mean to imply it." I apologized, trying to come up with a way to explain my point better. "I was merely saying that I doubt those claws do you justice."

Unfortunately… the only thing I could come up with was beyond stupid.

So I guess it fit me, given how I learned to fight.

Rin would probably add 'among other things' in there as a qualifier, but she wasn't here. Oh shit…. I forgot to call her and tell her I was alive.

"But a weapon is just a weapon, isn't it?" Benitsubasa asked as she rested her closed fists on her hips. It was a bit of a struggle to forgive such a blatantly blasphemous statement, especially in the light of her newly revealed nature as a martial artist instead of a caster (as I had originally thought).

I suppose it meant something different for Sekirei, who seemed to be very specifically shoehorned into roles (not unlike classes). For a fist type Sekirei to know nothing about weapons or how to use them… I had to remind myself that I was dealing with a system I had no knowledge of. Trying to use Grail War assumptions had already led me astray once (or more). And that was only counting today.

"No." Surprisingly enough, it was Karasuba who answered for me. "If you had been paying attention to anything in the past five minutes, you'd have learned that what weapon we weapon types use is very important."

"Well sorry all this talk about Haihane being a useless fighter is boring!" The tiny girl huffed. "And you brought home a nerd, Karasuba."

"Karasuba is right. When it comes to weaponry, type, weight, length, width, spring, material, forging process, shape, class… these are all important factors to consider." A nerd, huh? Well, considering my unique nature, I guess I was especially suited to being called a nerd when it came to weapons. "And all of that is before you factor in the wielders skill or how the weapon is best meant to be wielded."

Ah, that might work.

"Since we're on the point, would you mind if I used you as an example, Haihane?" I asked.

"Me?" Haihane pointed to herself. The tip of one of those wicked barbs ringing as it clinked off of one of the metal studs on her collar. Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly and rather quickly pulled her hand away.

"Yes. I figure you're a better example of using a weapon to fit a style –or vice versa – than Karasuba." Katana had little variance in how they could be used and in what style. Really, a katana was different from any other sword I've encountered, requiring specialized drawing, swinging and handling of the blade to prevent it from shattering – but for the purposes of this discussion I'd ignore all that and treat it like a normal sword.

"The nature of a katana is that of a sword: there are certain rules that govern how it can be used and what strategies may be employed with it. Specifically, as a bastard sword, there are more options available to the wielder than if they were wielding a solely one or two handed weapon. With you however…" I paused to give her an unnecessary glance up and down. "Given your choice of weapons, I would and did naturally assume that you would favor assassination style attacks: either striking when your target was unaware of you or by using hit and run tactics to draw them into a more favorable position for you to strike."

And it was an easy assumption to make. No one used claws or kartars tended to do so in a straight up fight against an armed opponent for reasons beyond what Haihane would suffer from in such conditions.

"I say this based on several things. The first of which is that the blades on your claws are affixed to your fingers and not your arm. By attaching them to your fingers, you limit the amount of force you can put behind your blades to what strength you have behind your fingers and wrist in most of your attacks. If you lock your wrist, you get better stability and force, but the curved nature of the blades makes it so you can only thrust while holding that position. Am I wrong?"

"That's not exactly true..." She hemmed, her denial ringing weakly.

"The second factor is because you have barbed tips at the end of your fingers. I'm betting that you can quite easily cut through soft tissue, but between those barbs and the placement of the blades, you lack the penetrative power to pierce through thicker muscle or bone." I paused for effect, drawing out a startled nod from her, before I continued my mini-lecture. "This limits your viable targets to a few key areas: the neck at the throat, under the arms, and the crease of the thighs where they meet the groin – where major veins and arteries are for quick kills – and then the hamstrings and inside of the forearms. If desperate, you might be able to target the soft organs in the abdomen below the ribcage… but I doubt it."

Did these imposed limits make her any less deadly? I highly doubted so.

Barbs were wicked little inventions. They increased bleeding from wounds, hampered movement, and in order to remove them you usually had to either cut around the spiked head (increasing the size of the wound and thus the difficulty to close it, risk of infection, recovery time, etc.) or you tore it out. Either way, they were designed only to increase pain and casualty rates.

Brutal.

Although usually applied to bolts or arrows or something to inflict the maximum amount of damage as possible or otherwise hamper your quarry… when applied to the delicate blades tipping Haihane's fingertips, she had the ability to deal absolutely vicious, lethal wounds – a sure kill if her first strike hit.

The only problem was…

"But in combat, these are the hardest places to hit if your opponent is aware of you. This means you have to move twice as quick if you want to overcome your opponent. Against a human, I have little doubt that you could pick and choose any of those prime targets at will, but against another Sekirei?"

I left the question hanging.

"I told you I'm not weak!" The visible parts of her face reddened slightly. "And I can cut through steel, you know!"

"You can?" I raised an eyebrow in question. While she probably had the strength to do something like that, I doubted her blades could withstand such an act without breaking or bending themselves. "Then show me."

"W-what?"

Instead of clarifying her question, I turned to the ashen haired monster at my side. "Karasuba, on a scale of Yomi to you, where would you put Haihane in terms of overall ability?"

Given that I'd done my best to avoid encountering any other Sekirei in the month I've been in the city (and avoiding Karasuba never seemed to work. She always found me again) it wasn't a surprise that I only had those two points to compare what very little I knew about Sekirei to.

Hell, counting the women in this room, I had only met eight, most of them in the past two days.

"Hmm…" She hummed, glancing over the shorter, gray haired woman. "I'd say somewhere around a six."

"A… A six?" Haihane affected a wounded expression, her hand coming up to her chest. "Karasuba-sama, what do you mean a six? What's a Yomi? A six in what?"

I hummed as Haihane attempted to get Karasuba to elaborate on her statement. That would work. Had she been closer to Karasuba's level of strength and skill, then I would need to use my magecraft to keep up with her. Closer to Yomi and I might be able to use just my runes or Reinforcement to match her. So evenly between the two… it would be a risk, but I felt confident; instructing others on having the proper tools for the trade was something I did on a regular basis. More so when it comes to what to use when trying to injure, maim or kill someone/something else.

"I don't think you are weak. If I did, this would be a different conversation. However, I do think that your equipment is holding you back. You want to prove me wrong?" I gestured to the cleared floor behind her overlooking the Tokyo skyline. "Then show me what you can do." I reiterated.

"And if I'm right, then maybe I can help."

There it was.

Not the best plan I'd ever come up with, nor was it what I had intended to do to ingratiate myself with Karasuba's squad mates, but it was the one I availed myself of. It wasn't like I wasn't used to teaching the finer points of weapons handling.

"Okay, so question never answered." Benitsubasa snarked. "Who is this guy and where the hell did you even find him?"

"I'm a mechanic." I spoke (somewhat) truthfully. It was technically my job description… if you disregarded mage killer, smith, globe trotter, vampire hunter and errand boy. Being an Enforcer meant being able to (and needing) to wear a lot of hats.

"Mercenary." Karasuba answered, speaking over me. "Still working the details."

"My master." Akitsu proudly spoke at the same time.

"Damn sexy." Haihane muttered garnering the stares of the other three ladies and myself. "What? You were all thinking it."

"Whatever." With a huff, Karasuba turned from Haihane back to me. "I don't remember giving you permission to fight anyone else, Emiya-kun."

"And I don't ever recall needing your permission to do anything." I countered, turning away from her towards the rack of various practice and live steel swords I saw earlier. "Now, to find a good sword…"

Noble Phantasms were not sparring material. Plus, Gaia was starting to increase the pressure on their existence, making maintaining them harder to maintain. In another hour or so, they might fade on their own, but another fight and they'd shatter in my hands.

The ring of naked steel drew my attention immediately as I instinctively ducked and pivoted, hands seeking the familiar handles of Kanshou and Bakuya.

Karasuba had drawn the full length of her sword from her scabbard but the attack I had been expecting (as it seemed that she struck at me every time she drew her blade in my presence) from her never came. Instead, she was ignoring both my reaction and the line of hoarfrost that stretched across the tiled floor in a jagged line between us, favoring to examine the tip of her sword.

"Well, I did only just clean the blood off." She drawled, her voice full of unpleasant promise. "But if it's for you I don't think I'll mind dirtying it again."

"Karasuba-sama." Haihane's voice interrupts the imminent violence, pausing Karasuba mid step as she was about to advance on me. "Is that offer we talked about still on the table? Cause I want in."

"Haihane." Slowly, delicately, Karasuba placed her raised foot back where it was less than a second ago and turned to the shorter grey haired woman. "Is this really what you want?" A nod answered her question. "Then I expect you to follow the rules. Any infractions and you know what will happen, don't you?" Another nod.

"Fine." With a sigh the tension left Karasuba's shoulders and she relaxed her grip on her sword. "Shirou!"

I raised my hand more on instinct than in thought, just in time to catch a black blur that tore through the air at her words before it hit me in the face.

It was a…Did she just really through her sheath at me?

"Akitsu, its fine. Stand down." I said as I looked up to regard Karasuba through the wall of ice that sprouted up between us. "What's this for?"

"What?" She shrugged. "You said you needed a sword, so there you go."

I raised an eyebrow in question.

"I told you: I just finished cleaning your blood off and I don't want to get it dirty again. So you'll have to make do with that. Think of it as punishment for your insolence."

"For my insolence?" I had to shake my head. Really, what else should I have expected from the crazy woman. Alien. Demon. Whatever.

I gave the sheath a test swing or two to get used to the weight and springiness. Slightly heavier than I expected, but that's probably due to the metal studs layered throughout pinning the leather together and helping keep its shape. Immaculate condition too: Karasuba obviously took as good care of this as she did her sword.

"Well, you needn't worry about that." I continued after another swing. "The only persons' whose blood I'm likely to spill here is yours."

"Oh really?" Her teeth glinted dangerously in the light, her legs tensing under her as she tightened her grip on her nodachi's hilt. "You really say the sweetest things. How about it then? We never did finish in the forest."

"You sure you want do that?" I countered, my free hand drifting back to Bakuya. "We might need a bigger room."

"Um, ew!" Benitsubasa's exclamation brought our attention away from each other and onto her grimacing face. "That is the creepiest, most disturbing flirting I've ever seen."

"Sempai." Haihane whined. "You promised I could have a turn."

"You're right, Haihane." I headed off the bickering before it could start again. How did they ever get anything done if all they did was argue amongst each other? Maybe it was a 'working with people you're familiar with' kind of thing.

Due to the politics of the Mages Association, Enforcers rarely worked with the same person regularly. Getting to know one another was difficult and making attachments was dangerous. Who knew who'd be coming back and mourning the loss of a comrade only made surviving harder.

Tailand taught me that. My first 'city of the dead.'

While more laid back than our Association counterparts, the stigma against revealing your mysteries (or letting them be seen too often or too closely) remained – something that only led credence to the 'lone wolf' methodology the Enforcers had adopted.

"Rules are simple then: If you hit me, you win and I'll take back what I said –."

"Do I get a prize too?" Haihane asked, interrupting me.

"Uh…sure. Why not." I shrugged. "So long as it's something simple and easy, I don't mind –."

"Then here I come!" She interrupted once again, blurring across the floor.

Fast! She closed the distance between us – a good thirty feet – in the blink of an eye. Six my ass! The girl may have been slower than Karasuba, but not by a hell of a lot.

As she closed she pivoted her hips, bringing her right hand forward from where she held it behind her, using the momentum of her acceleration to power a vicious horizontal forward swipe.

But for what her attack had in speed it lacked in range, something I exploited fully. Planting my feet, I brought the sheath scything under her attack – knocking her arm up and blades safely away from my person – the metal capped tip of the sheath striking hard and true against her shoulder.

Her right shoulder.

"Hrk." She grunted, her momentum forcefully and painfully halted.

"Your angles are predictable," I back stepped quickly, pulling my 'weapon' away from where she could grab it or knock it out of the way for her to close. Doing so incidentally caused her follow up backhand to hit nothing but air. "Against a foe with superior range, don't just charge ahead."

"Don't take me so lightly!" Haihane recovered quickly, chasing after me. Taking heed of my words, she zigzagged as she closed once more, trying to throw me off the direction of her next – there! Her short dash to the right was a feint, concealing the diagonal slash with her left claw that I almost fell for.

Almost.

Instead, I managed to parry the blow – catching her armored forearm and not her clawed hand – and forced the blow low as I stepped to the outside of her swing. Another step closer and I would be in the prime position to stick to her left side right at the shoulder, thus negating her ability to attack with her left hand and forcing her to attack across her body.

I was forced to abandon that track and hop backwards though as she dropped her weight low, using the force of my parry to spin on the balls of her feet in an attempt to cut my legs out from under me with her other hand.

Good.

She was good, keeping me totally on the defensive as we slowly circled around. As she advanced, I was forced to retreat, giving ground as she tried to close the distance between us once again. Thankfully, the open floor plan worked to my advantage, preventing her from cornering me and deciding the match right there.

"Stay still!" She cursed as I sidestepped her next backhand, keeping to the outside of her attacks. The metal tip of the sheath rang out against the inside of her armbands as I deflected her follow up. The open floor plan also allowed me to use my superior reach to its fullest advantage. "And let me catch you!"

"You'll never catch me if you keep swinging from the shoulders." I countered. Quite literally, as I whipped the sheath low under her guard, striking her thigh with a painful sounding thwack of leather on flesh. "It's slow."

"I'll show you slow!" She lunged for me again, lashing out with another wide swing as she closed, missing by scant inches as I darted away, the barbed edges of her claws brushing against the trailing edges of my coat.

With her speed, it probably wasn't a good idea to taunt her. It wasn't even that her attacks were all that slow. In fact, it as the opposite of that; her blades flashed like silver lightning through the air. The problem was that she kept attacking the same way every time and every single time I used her mistakes to escape her.

Just like I had called earlier in my assessment of her, her attacks lacked variety and penetration. Oh god, if she hit me she would rend the flesh from my bone and that would hurt, but it wouldn't be immediately lethal.

What I hadn't counted on was that she found a way to mitigate that aspect.

With her very first attack, she used her momentum to increase the speed and power behind her claws, and had continued that tactic throughout the chase. And with how fast she could move, then with the right angle her claim to be able to cut through steel might not be such an exaggeration after all.

I deflected another one-two combo; a rising left claw followed by another sweeping horizontal right before retreating again, Haihane in hot pursuit. She was trying to box me in, cornering me against the windows of the far side of the room, and it was working.

Without a metal weapon of my own, I was forced to hold back and strike at the last possible moment to deflect her attack and retreat. One miscalculation, one misstep on my part and she would tear through Karasuba's sheath like wet tissue paper and leave me completely exposed.

"Quit." I ducked under a lunge that left her right next to me. "Running." I whipped Karasuba's sheath down hard on her armored forearm to force her off balance and prevent her follow up backhand. "And let me." She growled, as she stumbled under the extra weight of my attack on her outstretched – overextended – arm. "Hit you!"

"If you want me." Her misstep bought me just enough time to back out of her range once more. "Then you'll have to work for it."

I was starting to rethink my opinion about her bracers. Whenever I blocked or deflected her attacks I had been aiming specifically for them – mostly because it was either that or lose my only defense – but they seemed to serve her well. After that hit to her thigh, she had been vigilant about keeping at least one claw up for defense and I hadn't managed to get around it since. What's more is that except for the slight loss of momentum she suffered when I countered, the heavy metal bands let her ignore the hits entirely.

Worse, she had begun to purposefully take the blows to the forearm and use the shift in weight to launch a faster attack in response. She was a bright one, she was. Adaptive. With my current limitations, she might even have me on the ropes. While I might have 'won' our last exchange, the windowed balcony was getting closer with every step.

While the open floor plan allowed me the space to use the advantage of my longer reach to its fullest, it was a double edged sword, allowing her to take advantage of her superior maneuverability. Against a human, or even another magus under the power of Reinforcement like I was, I could have kept them at extreme range (extreme for melee weapons) perpetually.

Against a Sekirei though, I was finding that feat was all but impossible. Haihane had the same, powerful and graceful legs that allowed Akitsu and Karasuba to effortlessly propel themselves across the city (even while carrying me) and it showed as she kept hounding me across the room. For every three steps, that I took, she could catch up in a single motion.

It was a dance of close, attack, evade, escape and close again as we spiraled around the room. If we continued at this pace, however, I'd hit one of the edges of the room sooner rather than later and that would be the end of this little chase: something she was quickly adapting to so long as I kept running away.

If I was using this spar as an attempt to learn more about how Sekirei fought and to teach Haihane in particular, then there wasn't anything more to learn by running. She was getting wise to my tricks anyway. No, now it was time to take the initiative and attack.

All I needed was to meet three criteria.

I flicked the tip of the sheath up, ringing once more against the outside of her armband as she neatly deflected the attack off her left arm and over her head and simultaneously ducking in to sweep low at my legs.

Step one: get her to attack.

Of course, Haihane was still suffering from the very problem I had against Karasuba: the ridiculous range of her god damn sword. Sure, only using the sheath gave me a foot less of 'weapon' to use, but against her 40cm long claws it was more than enough to attack from outside her reach.

This meant that she had to launch forward to reach me, each time using the same rotational trick to add strength to her claws. This was the decisive mistake she'd perpetrated throughout every move in our fight. It wasn't that her attacks were predictable – though she was forced to use a wide angle for these attacks. No, her mistake was that when she pivoted on her back foot to transfer her momentum to her swing, she planted her foot. It was a small window, a fraction of a second, but it was a fraction where she was not moving and not yet attacking.

A fraction of a second was all I needed to see the attack, read its trajectory and evade it. She could swing all day from here to eternity and so long as I had room to evade she would never, ever hit me.

"Lesson one: Know your range, exploit your opponents!" Grabbing the sheath in both hands I brought it straight down on the top of her extended hand. Why her hand? Because despite the rather surprising amount of protection her armbands gave her, they made her already tip heavy claws even heavier. The last time I hit her like this she stumbled under the unexpected and violent increase in weight and this time was no different as my attack forced her to overextend.

"Lesson two: Keep your footing solid and guard up!" I twisted away, just far enough to avoid being rammed by her shoulder as she tried to recover from her stumble and rolled along her arm, reversing our position as I ended up behind her.

"Lesson three: Never show your back to your opponent!" She flailed, trying to windmill her arms to keep from face planting on the tile floor as she tried to recover from her misstep. There were two options I could take from here. The first was to hit her from behind, stay in her shadow and try and prevent her from ever recovering.

But something else caught my eye as she flailed: the threadbare remnants of her shirt were sliding down her shoulders and arms. The loose fabric was getting caught on her elbows and shoulders, inhibiting the movements of her arms. So I picked option two, reaching out and grabbing the scruff of her shirt and pulled her backwards towards me, setting her off balance again.

"Lesson four: Don't give your opponent something to grab and leverage against you." With that, I yanked down on her top, drawing an indignant (and completely justified) squawk from the girl, and twisted, cinching the material at the small of her back. The fabric pulled taut, pinning her elbows to her hips and provided the perfect handhold to literally manhandle her in any direction I wanted.

It was a dirty trick, no pun intended, but an effective one.

"H-Hey!" Haihane struggled, her bandages slipping as she tried to wriggle and turn her way out of her cloth prison. It was no use, every time she found her balance I would tug, pulling her off her feet again and sending her stumbling once more. "N-No! Not here!"

"Loose clothing is dangerous in close combat." I lectured, giving her another sharp tug – much to her vocal dismay. Her breathing was becoming erratic, coming in rapid, shallow pants. Pale, almost translucent skin began to peek through where her struggles were undoing the bandages binding her torso – the skin beneath flushed an angry red.

But there was no escape for her; the material was too low on her arms to bring her claws to bear either to free herself or to fend me off. "If your opponent can catch hold of you and use anything against you like this, you're as good as dead." I continued. Had I the need, intent, or a real weapon, this would have been the match. Deciding to take pity on the poor girl and that my point was proven, I let go of her shirt and pushed her away.

Staggering away, legs now under her own power, she wasted no time in freeing herself of her cloth bindings, tearing her top from her body and rending it with both claws. She stood there, back towards me, slightly hunched over as black strips wafted gently to the floor or clung stubbornly to her bladed fingers.

"That…" Her voice was heady, so low it was almost a whisper against her rapid breathing. I could both see and hear the exaggerated movements of her chest drawing in air as her back rose and fell. The movement caused more, small sections of her bandages to slip and come loose; revealing swathes of flushed, sweaty skin. "That was dirty."

"Oh no." I heard a groan behind me. "This isn't good."

I made the dumb mistake of turning at the words. What isn't good? I mean… Okay… maybe I went a little overboard with that one. I'd better apolo-Oh shit!

With a sound that was half-growl and half-whimper Haihane turned, pushing off the floor and leaping like a furious wolverine at me. The claws strapped to her hands only likened the horrible comparison. I ducked and rolled away, the sound of her claws scraping against the Holy Shroud loud in my ears. She grunted as she swung at me, strategy and proper form seemingly thrown out the window in the effort to grab hold of me.

For that is indeed what she was trying to do now. No more stabs or raking claws or sweeping strikes, but headlong dives with both hands outstretched as if to include me in the most horrible, painful hug ever.

Yup. Definitely need to apologize.

…Later. Now was running time.

Thankfully, her rage and embarrassment induced fit also slowed her down. Or maybe that was her growing fatigue? She was sweating more. Her breathing never quite recovered from her quick, sharp pants. Where before her leaps and dashes were graceful and precise, now she was overshooting her landing and stumbling on the recoveries.

"Don't let your emotions dictate your actions." I dodged another lunge, rewarding the effort with a sharp thwack on her exposed shoulder and nearly spinning her around. "Use it to focus your mind, give you purpose."

Her (visible) eye, dark with rage, lit up slightly at my rebuke. Heeding my words, she lashed out with her left claw, faster and tighter than her previous attacks. The faster speed once more came at the cost of range, however. Her Achilles heel it seemed was limited range and limited attack angles. Dodging was as simple as taking a half-step back and to the side and her claw just barely scraped my Kevlar vest.

Her right came up, another straight thrust that she seemed to favor after a left sweep. Shit, she was too close! In her anger, she'd finally stopped planting her feet before every attack and her superior mobility was all too obvious now. This time I couldn't get enough space to maneuver. She'd finally locked me in a place where my longer reach was a less than worthless: it was now working against me.

Or it would, if I had a full length blade instead of the sheath in my hand. With a nodachi, I could never grab the blade to reduce its effective length and increase my control of the weapon without either breaking the sword, cutting my hand open, or both. With only the sheath I had no such problems as I shifted my left hand to grip the middle of the 'weapon' and hammer down the 'hilt' on the back of Haihane's hand: the only part that was neither armored nor attached to blades.

This time she didn't stumble at the additional weight pulling her forward, her arms much closer to her torso than in her earlier attacks. Instead she went with the motion, letting her arm fall and stepped into the attack – whipping the arm back up into a vicious backhand.

Shit! I fucked up – let her stay too close!

No chance to move away. Couldn't evade. Positioned poorly.

I did the only thing I could do: duck and lever the 'hilt' of the sheath to slam up into her arm. It was all I could do to knock her attack off target, and instead of taking a full claw to the face I only lost a bit of hair as her attack skimmed the top of my head.

End game.

That was her last gambit and it failed by a (literal) hair.

Rising from my knee, I thrust the metal cap tip of the sheath into her shoulder once more, the force of the blow causing her footing to slip. In the same motion I whipped the sheath back down, striking her in the leg; same thigh, same place as earlier in our spar.

"Hrk." With a wordless gasp her leg gave out under her, sending her crumpling onto one knee. She struggled to rise back up – too slow! I had already fixed my grip on the sheath properly and struck once more, this time a two-handed hammer-blow to her shoulder to keep her down.

As if sensing the last blow, her eyes snapped up, her hands coming up above her head to –

Clank!

–the blades on her fingers clashed against each other, preventing her hands from fully coming together. Instead of catching the blade between her palms (and impressive feat to be sure) there was just enough of a gap between her palms for the last strike to slip by unimpeded.

"Gah!" The blow carried her backwards, leaving her sprawling on her back and breathing in rapid gulps of air.

I took a steadying breath of my own. That last attack was way too close for comfort. Letting myself fall into a relaxed, 'at ease' position. Giving the still sprawled girl a once over I internally winced.

Hm… maybe I did go a bit overboard. She was breathing pretty heavily. Her face was awfully flushed too. And she wasn't getting up from where she lay. Yeah… just a bit.

Although, that did rule out the possibility that had only occurred to me once we started fighting. If she didn't go for assassinations, she might be a prefer a 'death by a thousand cuts' methodology… but if she was this tired already then even if he had for the speed for it, she definitely lacked the stamina for such a strategy.

I shook my head. Anyway, the spar was over, I'd won, and now it was time to go over what I'd…we'd learned.

And there were a lot of things to go over and think about.

"That was good. You really surprised me there." I complimented her. Sincerely too. Had I a real weapon, a metal weapon, there were several times where she would have had me dead to rights. Or rather, in these circumstances flayed and gutted. She was good. Very good.

I should have expected nothing less from one of Karasuba's partners.

"Okay, no." I heard an aggravated, incredulous not-quite-shout behind me. "Seriously, who the fuck is he?" I looked over in the other girls' direction as Benitsubasa pointed dazedly. "And where the hell did you find him even?"

I opened my mouth to respond when the sound of blades dragging across the tile floor alerted me to movement behind me. Haihane was struggling to get up, slowly dragging herself onto her hands and knees, her claws scratching against the tile. Her mouth moved almost wordlessly, saying something like 'must…catch?' I couldn't make out the –Hey there!

I pivoted as she leapt at me once more, dodging to the side as she crashed back onto the floor where I was just standing.

Yeah… now might be a good time to apologize. She was once more slowly, shakily trying to get her feet under her again.

""I'm sorry, but I think our fight is over Haihane." I poked her in the side (lightly) and she collapsed again with a small cry. This time she stayed down, body trembling. "You did well, but it's my victory." No wait, she was trying to get up again.

Operative word being trying.

"I didn't take you for the sadistic type, Emiya-kun." Karasuba's words startled me. For some reason she even sounded pleased.

"Sadistic?" My brow furrowed. "What do you mean by sadistic?" Sure, the whole thing with the shirt was probably unnecessary, but better she learned of a potential (and likely) weakness in a semi-controlled environment than out in the field. I would hardly count my actions as sadistic.

A lazy sidestep took me out of the path of another ill-fated flop by Haihane. Did I just hear her mutter 'reward?' Wow, she was sure was persistent.

"What?" Karasuba chuckled. "Can't you see you're torturing the poor girl?" She pointed at the bandaged girl with the tip of her sword. "She's reacting to you."

R…Reacting?

"What do you mean by 'reacting'?" For Karasuba of all people to give the word emphasis, it must be important. Wait… hold on a second. I glanced at Haihane again.

Labored breathing? Check.

Flushed skin? Check.

Increased desire to kill me? I gently stepped away from where she was trying to hamstring me, futilely clawing at the air by my pant leg. Yeah… I'm going to have to say check to that too.

"She wants to form a contract with me?" I couldn't keep the incredulity out of my voice. I mean, I had hopped for something along the lines of developing a working (or in this case teaching) relation with one (or more) of Karasuba's squad mates, but this wasn't anywhere in the realm of possibilities I had considered. "Wait, is that even possible? I thought that as an Ashikabi I could only have one Sekirei."

"One winged Sekirei, I mean." I quickly corrected myself after a glance at Akitsu. Way to go Shirou, keep bringing that painful subject up for her. I see we're still just great at keeping promises.

She looked like she was struggling to contain herself (and probably had been for a while). Sure, her face was expressionless – almost mask like – but her eyes were narrowed at Haihane and she had a rather impressively large ring of frost at her feet. A ring that had stretched outwards in jagged, broken lines.

It hadn't even occurred to me that she might have a problem with seeing me fight another Sekirei. When fighting Karasuba, I had ordered her not to see and she cried her heart out about it. Now I had made her watch me fight another. Sure, it wasn't a real fight, but didn't really change things from her perspective, did it?

She had sworn to be my shield and protect me when I accepted her 'contract,' when I accepted becoming her Ashikabi in name and spirit, if not in actuality.

And I had cast her aside.

Again.

I am the worst Master ever.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Karasuba scoffed, breaking my attention away from Akitsu.

"Uh…nothing, I suppose." I had to remind myself once more that this wasn't the Grail War where it was traditional to have one Servant per Master. Of course, it was possible to control more than one Servant at a time, if you had the prana reserves for it not to kill you. There was also the slight issue of finding two Servants willing to work together without trying to kill each other. "And that's okay? For an Ashikabi to have more than one Sekirei?"

"Technically speaking." Karasuba answered.

"Ugh, like that freak in the South? Who could bear that?" Benitsubasa interrupted, earning herself a sharp glare from Karasuba. "I mean, if Natsuo were to wing anyone else I'd definitely have to kill the bitch." Realizing what she just said, and to whom, she quickly paled. "Er, not that I was planning on killing you, Karasuba."

"I'm sure." Karasuba drawled before continuing. "I suppose that an Ashikabi of enough merit could wing multiple Sekirei partners. Whether or not his partners agree with that sentiment is something else entirely. Although in this case…" She paused, gesturing to the no-longer-prone form of Haihane. Huh, she must have used the time to struggle onto her knees. It… didn't look like she'd be standing anytime soon though.

"You might as well just kiss her already." She ordered imperiously. "She'll just keep on trying to jump you until she finally catches you. If that happens, I will step in."

The possibility that maybe I didn't want to partner with another Sekirei either didn't occur to her, or more than likely it did and she didn't care. Given that she pretty much forced her own contract down my throat – and god, she even found a way to make that a literal statement – odds were it was the latter.

"Ashikabi-sama." Akitsu's voice startled me. Not because I had forgotten that she was there. Though she had been, and often was, so quiet that it was easy to forget she was there… that was when she wasn't angry enough to be a walking freezer. "You should give her wings."

"Akitsu?" I found myself questioning her. No, there was something off about… not what she said, but how she said it. Her voice was… not tight, but something else.

"You will be safer." She continued, for once not using her halting but exact style of phrasing. Rigid. That was it. Her entire demeanor was rigid, like the ice she shaped. Something was bothering her. Something significant… but what? "With another Sekirei of your own."

Was that… did she just sound bitter? Yes, she did. And not just a little bitter either; the normally stoic woman broke the scale – and her normal monotone – while suggesting that I…

Oh. Oh. I see.

She was jealous.

She was jealous and I am an idiot. I was mistaken: she wasn't upset that I was forcing her to watch me put myself in danger, although I had no doubt contributed to her mood. No, this was way worse. I was forcing her to watch as someone else accomplished her dream. The one thing in the world that she treasured more than anything else… and was also the thing she could never, ever do herself.

Weren't those her own words, spoken just the other day?

"Akitsu." I started softly. She didn't look at me though. Her cobalt eyes staring past me unseeing, clouded over by visions of her own demons. "Akitsu!" I said again, more forcefully thing time. It worked, snapping her attention from the girl behind me and her own internal demons, and met my gaze with her usual, strange intensity. "You're my partner as much as Karasuba is. I don't quite understand what's going on here, but if you have a problem with me winging another Sekirei, if you don't want me to, then I won't."

And strangely… I meant it. It wasn't something I would have considered this morning –sparing her feelings, that is. I had entered into her contract with the full intention of using her as a weapon, as a tool to advance my own position in this strange war. But weapons didn't break down in your arms at the thought of your death. Servants didn't do that. Magi didn't do that, unless it was a part of some calculated move.

Akitsu did, and I was fairly certain it wasn't a ploy.

"What do you need the opinion of trash for, Emiya?" Karasuba snarled. "I already gave you my permission, so do it."

"You may forget this, but yours isn't the only opinion that matters." I countered just as harshly. "Of the two of you, Akitsu is the one that has yet to try and kill me. If anything, it should be her opinion that matters more."

"Is that so?" Her voice was low and dangerous as she took a step forward. The creak of her grip tightening on her nodachi's hilt was audible. I tossed aside her useless sheath, mirroring her aggression and putting my hands on the hilts of Kanshou and Bakuya.

"Give her wings." Akitsu's voice cut through the imminent violence.

"Akitsu?" I felt myself ask as I pulled myself back from the brink of nearly trying to kill Karasuba for the second time today. It seemed that I wasn't alone as Karasuba almost stumbled forward. I shook my head, clearing it of the sudden battle lust. What was it about Karasuba that she got under my skin, got my blood boiling so easily? "Are you sure?"

"Yes." She nodded. "I… would not want to be the reason why… another Sekirei was denied her purpose." I tried to hold her gaze, but when she looked away self-consciously I let out a long, suffered sigh. Once, just once, I would like to have an easy partner.

What she said… was probably not a lie. I could see her logic – if I tilted my head and squinted – and while she might not be telling the whole truth, it wasn't a lie either. She had also returned to using (what I guess I would call) her normal speech pattern, which was as good a signal of her resolve as any.

Plus, I think the room was getting warmer. Yes, now that I thought to look for it, the frost that had accumulated along the floor and lined Akitsu's feet was thawing. Well, all of it except a crooked line that arced to behind Karasuba where Karasuba was standing.

Huh, clever girl.

"Ah." She paused as if considering something. "And it would be safer for you to have another Sekirei." The 'to protect me from Karasuba' went unsaid, but the significant glance towards the ashen haired woman gave it away.

"Well, alright." I relaxed my posture and turned back to where Haihane was kneeling on the floor. This whole 'reacting' portion of forming a contract seemed to take a lot out of Sekirei – as Akitsu, Karasuba and I were talking it appeared that Haihane had tried to crawl closer again but had run out of steam a few paces away. Now it looked like she was just resting on her heels, trying to build up her strength again. "If you're both sure about this, then I suppose it's alright with me as well."

"W-wait! No, stop!" Benitsubasa interjected. "That's not… we need to call Natsuo, now! This isn't supposed to happen."

"Benitsubasa." Karasuba barked. "Shut up and sit still."

Benitsubasa's retort, if there was one, was lost to me as I approached Haihane once more. As I did, I couldn't help but once more turn to how different this 'Sekirei Plan' was from the Grail Wars. Back then, I had enough trouble with my faulty (and accidental) summoning of Saber that I would have never considered trying to get another Servant. Plus, the added upkeep of maintaining two Servants would have probably killed me, even despite the regenerative properties that the conceptual weapon Avalon granted me by being implanted in my body.

But as I had been trying to remind myself to varying levels of success (mostly none): this was not the Grail War. Servants could not be summoned by a kiss. Even my accidental summoning of Saber required a formalcraft circle and a catalyst. Even I had to admit that sealing a contract with a kiss was a lot more streamlined of a process. Stranger, yes. But also more simplified.

Still… I didn't quite want to bond with another Sekirei. Hell, I hadn't (and still didn't really) want to bond with my first Sekirei, Karasuba, to begin with. Akitsu I had only agreed to work with because of the technicality that she couldn't bond with me.

Haihane's head perked up from where it had slumped to her chest in her exertions as I approached within a few steps. Her face was still red and her breathing irregular, but a light came back to her eyes as I came closer. I… couldn't quite believe I was even considering this. In fact, I could honestly say that had the events of this afternoon gone differently, I never would have considered contracting with the girl.

But now… trying to avoid being dragged into the war was moot. I was already involved. Hell, I was standing in MBI's own headquarters having already bound myself to one of their enforcers and given the chance to bind another. I wasn't just involved, I was at ground fucking zero. Did it even really matter now if I had one Sekirei or two?

That was another thing: Karasuba and Benitsubasa mentioned that having two Sekirei at once was possible, if not exactly common, but it had me thinking. Was it uncommon because of a risk to the Ashikabi? Or was it because, like the Grail War, only one Sekirei could be the victor?

The first was unlikely. I wasn't stupid. I realized that this was Karasuba's gambit. She had orchestrated tonight so that I would meet Haihane before I was supposed to. Though why she was doing this eluded me, it wasn't hard to see that she had planned this.

Given that her fate and mine were intertwined, it was unlikely that she'd risk my life without reason.

There was another issue though… one that had me, despite how poor a magus I was, curious. When Karasuba first kissed me, I felt a slight draw on my prana. Not too much. Had I not kept my circuits open, had I not been actively drawing on my reserves, I doubt I would have even noticed. However, since our kiss there has been no strain on my reserves.

There was no prana upkeep for having a Sekirei.

Or at least, there was no upkeep for having only one. Which made sense if Minato – who couldn't use mage craft to my knowledge – could be with Musubi without dying, then Sekirei couldn't be constantly drawing on their Ashikabi's prana. If there was a downside to having more than one Sekirei, then I wasn't seeing it with my current (and admittedly incomplete) knowledge.

So there was no logical reason that I could see, other than the vague 'I don't want to,' to not kiss her, right?

"Haihane." I stopped just out of arms reach, meeting those feverish, darting blue eyes. "Is this what you want as well?"

Like before, questioning her directly made her more animated. The minute twitching in her arms and legs stopped and her narrow eyes found mine, locking on unwavering. I was just starting to think she hadn't heard me when she let out a breathless whisper. "Ah, yes."

With a nod, I took the last step. She leaned up as far as she could while kneeling, tilting her head towards mine, her arms reaching up to wrap around me. I caught her hands by the wrist, gently turning them – and by extension the claws attached to her fingers – away before they could do any damage. There was a noise from the other side of the room behind me as I leaned down, tilting my head to meet hers and –

"Shirou!" I heard my mother's voice. "Don't!"

– My lips met hers. Ephemeral blue light sprouted from Haihane's back. The light coalesced into steel blue crescents, short and thick on one end and extending long and thin on the other, curled around us. Whereas Karasuba's black-light wings were intricately detailed with black feathers, Haihane's wings were more abstract; the shape of her wings only loosely formed by the 'blades' sprouting from her back.

I held the chaste kiss until her wings began to fade.

"Ichirou Sahashi!" Takami shouted my full (false) name, pronouncing every syllable as only an angry mother could duplicate. The noise I heard before I kissed Haihane wasn't Karasuba, Akitsu or Benitsubasa as I had originally thought. Instead, it was my mother. She was being wheeled into the room by, surprisingly enough, Minaka Hiroto himself. Behind them stood another gentleman I didn't recognize, dressed in a sharp black two piece suit over a white button down shirt and black dress shoes. "What a–"

"Calm down Takami-kun, we wouldn't want you to tear your stiches." Minaka's voice cut over hers as he pressed down on her shoulders. From his position behind her wheel chair it looked like he was almost holding her down in the chair to keep her from storming across the room to yell at me. "Please, let me handle this."

Despite his gentle tone, the words were nothing less than an order, something that Takami must have realized as well because she uncharacteristically held her tongue. She did, however, fidget angrily in her chair.

"Shirou Emiya." Minaka addressed me, walking around Takami and into the room proper. The unknown man behind him took up his old position, wheeling her into the room in the CEO's wake. "I really must applaud you."

What?

In my surprise I let go of Haihane's hands – apparently the only thing holding her still upright as she immediately collapsed on her back once more, letting out a happy sigh. This wasn't quite how I expected him to react.

"From the moment I saw you I knew I could expect great things from you." The overheads reflected ominously off his glasses as he swaggered towards me. His gesticulations matched the over the top personality he presented when he appeared on television. His entire demeanor was a far cry from the more personal side I briefly saw of him this morning at Takami's bedside, which could only mean one thing: this was his business face.

"But this?" He continued. "Oh, this was something I didn't expect. To think that you'd be so enthused to join the game that you'd seduce the captain of my guard and make a play to hijack my own Disciplinary Squad? Talk about getting a leg up on the competition! Bravo, my boy, bravo!"

That wasn't…. I mean, yes, that was what I did and sure, that was somewhat along my intentions… but when he said it like that it sounded… wrong. That I couldn't argue against Minaka's point only made me more irritated.

His smirk widened. "You must really want to usher in a new Age of Gods." He finished.

"The Gods are dead." I snapped, almost cutting him off. His lips didn't so much as twitch as he held his smirk, though the emotion behind it died away at my vehemence. His eyes widening behind his glasses was the only visible reaction to my statement. "And humanity is better off for their absence."

I glowered at him, uncomprehending that someone could be so… so… misguided as to want such a thing. Even Magi, for all their work to reach Akasha, the root of the world and understanding of all things, knew better than to wish for a return to the Age of Gods. They may strive to regain the power, but never the fear and uncertainty of such a chaotic age. All I could think of were the lives ruined and the suffering and anguish caused by the mere existence of gods.

Medea of Colchis, better known as the Witch of Betrayal. Had it not been for the machinations of Hera and Aphrodite, she may have avoided her tragic fate. Alas, the two goddesses ensorcelled the then princess of Colchis and possessor of the legendary Golden Fleece, enthralling her heart and mind to the warrior Jason. Forced by the goddesses spell to love a man she'd never seen before, Medea assisted Jason in stealing away her treasured Fleece, killing and dismembering her own brother to prevent her royal father from catching and killing him.

Though his mission done, the gods spell did not end and Medea abandoned home, family and duties to Helios to follow Jason and his crew, and due to her unnatural love committed gruesome betrayal and murder after another at his word and in his name. Only when Jason's quest was done and he'd won the love of a different princess, did the goddesses spell finally break. Abruptly returned to her right mind, Medea despaired, realizing the depths of her crimes. Her last act was to sacrifice her own children (fathered by Jason) in order to curse him for the rest of his life, kill his new family, and spite the gods that had taken everything from her. She died a bitter, accursed woman whose name had become synonymous with treachery.

Medusa, before she became the monster of legend, Gorgon, was a demigoddess herself. Medusa and her older sisters were greatly renowned for their beauty, so much so that even full gods could not help but take notice. Athena, jealous that the demigoddess's beauty was detracting from the full Goddess's worshipers, cursed Medusa's beautiful hair to transform into snakes. Amphitrite, the wife of Poseidon, took Athena's idea even further; enraged at having noticed the attentions of her husband straying to the beautiful demigoddess, she afflicted Medusa with the monstrous body of the Gorgon and banished her to a secluded island. Considered a monster, the humans who once thought her the epitome of beauty now sought her lost island in the hopes of slaying her. Cursed and forgotten by the gods, Medusa eventually succumbed to the loneliness, shame and anger of her condition, devolving into the monster of legend for which she is famed for. In the end, this revenge wasn't enough for the gods, for they assisted the Hero Perseus in eventually slaying her and claiming her head as trophy.

Hercules, the famous (or infamous) son of Zeus. Plagued by trial after trial by his father and the other gods to test his mettle and worth as a demi-god, Hercules drew the enmity and envy of men and gods alike. Ultimately, it was his slaying of the Hydra that did him in, for his enemies (both divine and mortal) tricked his wife into bathing his wedding tunic in the deadly venom. On his wedding night, Hercules was driven mad by the poison and, before it killed him, killed every member of the wedding party – including his best friends and his new wife – with his bare hands.

Gilgamesh, the two-thirds god turned Servant who lusted after Saber, tried to kill me on multiple occasions, and tried to end the human race. Of course, even as a near deity himself, he was not immune to the affronts of gods, for in his life the Goddess Ishtar fell in love with him and sent the Bull of Heaven to drag him to her bedchambers. Though the Bull was defeated, hundreds of people of the city of Uruk were killed before Gilgamesh and Enkidu could even reach the Bull and Ishtar's fury eventually cost Enkidu his life.

Angra Mainyu. All the Worlds Evil. A god whose birth into the world would have heralded the death of every man, woman and child on the planet.

Shirou Emiya…

The man who would one day become the Servant of the Bow, Archer. At the end of his life, he asked Alaya for the power to save others in exchange for his soul. In his service to the world, the man who sought to save everyone became incapable of saving anyone, and now must only kill and kill and kill and kill and kill.

A thousand weapons scrolled through my mind. Behind every weapon was a face and every face a story, a legend, and every legend told of the sorrow and torment caused by the capricious things known as Gods.

"I see. I had thought that you would see things differently." Minaka's glasses flashed, turning opaque and breaking our glaring contest. His voice was cold as he took a step forward, an aggressive act that I found myself matching. "But alas, it seems we are at an impasse. I was considering allowing your little coup de ta to slide – as a reward for your ingenuity – but if this is the attitude you're going to take then such an act would be imprudent. Of course, I can't exactly let you walk out of here with half of my security force either."

"Let me walk out of here?" My laughter was mirthless and hollow. "You couldn't prevent your war's participants from breaking your own rules. You couldn't stop said rule breakers from butchering your own men and you couldn't protect the numerous innocent people who were ignorant of your sick little game until 108 tore down a city block around them. With a track record like that, I don't think there's a damn thing you can do to stop me."

I might have taken a vindictive pleasure in the way his eyes narrowed at each point if I wasn't so infuriated by them myself.

"So if stealing away your people is what it costs to save the lives you throw away then so be it."

I held his glare, neither of us backing down, neither retreating. To do so was instant death. No, it was worse than that; to look away was to admit defeat. I couldn't, or maybe I wouldn't, be able to understand the man in front of me. From just this conversation I knew we were too different. For a brief moment I had the realization – fleeting as it was – that there was only one possible ending to this Sekirei War.

I was going to kill this man.

"Oh, for god's sake." Karasuba's frustrated drawl cut through our staring contest. "Just hire him."

"What?" I couldn't keep the incredulity from my voice and, apparently, neither could my mother.

"Oh?" Minaka, however, had no such trouble. His former glower replaced by a look of keen interest as he rubbed his chin. The change in demeanor was so fast it was less a smooth transition than it was like flipping a switch. "You aren't usually one to speak frivolously, Karasuba-kun, so I'm willing to hear you out. Please, explain."

"Simple. Hire him on as an outside consultant." Karasuba sauntered close. "You both said it yourselves: Emiya-kun isn't going anywhere and you can't afford to let him try anyway. If he's going to be around you might as well hire him to stay and work for us. Better yet, make it look like hiring him was the plan all along. MBI gets to save face by preventing anyone from learning that an unaffiliated Ashikabi infiltrated MBI headquarters and stole away two of MBI's personal Sekirei."

Minaka looked like he'd bitten something sour at that.

"And you can better control what information he has access to or actions he can take. Shirou-kun here benefits by being able to use what resources you allow him to – which would put you in a better position to enforce that rule you spouted earlier."

""Oh," Karasuba started again as if she forgot something, but I knew better. Spend a month in her company and you knew she didn't forget anything, no matter how much you wished or prayed. No, this was simply theatrics. "One more thing: the Disciplinary Squad is still mine."

That devious little witch.

I wasn't sure if I should be furious or pleased. As much as I hated to admit it – and I did – Karasuba's solution made sense. It was something I had been thinking about almost constantly since I decided not to kill her in 108's forest. It also made her insistence on my kissing Haihane make more sense.

Judging from the more self-satisfied smirk than usual that was adorning her face, there was no doubt in my mind that this was the endgame she had been setting up since she ambushed me outside Takami's room this morning. No, maybe even earlier than that.

I had become pretty familiar with Karasuba's facial expressions. In many ways, she was like a cat. Not a house cat, no, but one of the large, apex predators like a jaguar or a panther. She liked to win and it showed in the ways she smiled. I'd seen her grins of easy-confidence and arrogant, smug looks when she got something over me (which was sadly often) but this was intrinsically different than any smile I'd seen on her before.

It was a grin-of-promised-victory.

"Minaka, you can't seriously be considering this?" Takami shouted, sounding short of breath as she tried to raise her voice. "No, I won't allow it!"

"Consider it?" Minaka beamed. "Not at all, dear Takami-kun, I've already decided to accept it!"

Wait, what?

"Karasuba-kun does bring up some very good points and it would be a terrible waste to let her go. Besides, given the swift and timely conclusion Shirou-kun brought to this whole Green Girl Incident, having new blood will do nothing but strengthen the company as a whole. Aren't you always saying I need to listen to other people?"

"I meant listen to me." Takami growled, a harsh guttural sound.

"Pish posh, Takami-kun, I always listen to you." Minaka soundly ignored her in favor of giving Karasuba a 'thumbs up', of all things.

Minaka's rapid transitions in character were leaving me reeling. Was his anger all an act? Or was the anger genuine and his magnanimity the falsehood. I couldn't tell which was real and which was fake. There was a trap here, I knew it, but I couldn't see where.

"Hold on, don't I get any say in this?" I interjected. "What if I don't want to accept working for you or your company?"

"Please, Shirou-kun, this isn't the time to play coy." Karasuba's voice was thick with mirth. "You've been on vacation." God, the woman actually had the gall to use air quotes. "For over a month now. AS a private contractor… do you even have any jobs lined up to go to?"

As a matter of fact… no, not as such. But there were always people in need of saving, always dangerous magical threats looming in the shadows. Finding a job was never difficult…

"No, you'll accept." Karasuba concluded with a chuckle. "If you weren't, you wouldn't have asked the question. You would have walked out already."

I grit my teeth. She was right, of course. I hated that she knew me so well to call my bluff off the bat, but that didn't change anything. Sure, I could always leave. Throw myself into some new, distant battlefield. Hunt the latest crop of undead maniacs. End the life of yet another unscrupulous magus.

But to do that would be to turn my back on the uncovered powder-keg I'd stumbled over here. Even if I disregarded the additional complications my being here has wrought, if I left I would be complicit in whatever disasters befell the city.

And there would be a disaster. The only question was on what scale?

I sighed. No, I couldn't leave, which left me only one option.

"Alright." I had to swallow back the feeling that I was making a deal with the devil. Although, given Karasuba's involvement, I suppose I was. "Let's talk terms."

"Excellent! I knew you'd see things my way, Shirou-kun!" And already I was regretting this. "Well, why don't we adjourn to write up a suitable contract, hmm? Oh, and while we're at it, let me be the first one to welcome you to Mid Bio Informatics. I think you'll enjoy it here, I should know, I just so happen to own it! Ahahaha!" He laughed at his own quite tasteless joke.

"Oh, before I forget, let me introduce you to Natsuo-kun." He continued. "Natsuo-kun, please step forward and join us. With Shirou here I suppose that makes you the head of the Disciplinary Squad."

The man that had followed Minaka and Takami in stepped forward, wheeling an irate but silent Takami along in with him. Takami, for her part, looked like she was only silent because she wasn't sure who to lay into first and had settled for glaring at each of us in turn.

"Hello, I am Natsuo Ichinomi." Natsuo introduced himself, coming around to stand beside Takami's chair and complete our little circle. In his finely pressed black suit and tie over a white button up, I had taken him as a typical salary man – either Minaka's or Takami's secretary or something. He was almost non-descript in the way that only normal people somehow managed. He was of average height and build for a Japanese man, if maybe a little thin – but it was a wire-y, athletic thinness. I bet he ran track in high school.

His light brown hair framed his face in a way that, if he had slightly more angular cheekbones, would cause Yukari to claim him as 'clearly bishonen material'. He directed a polite, welcoming smile my way, though his eyes glinted with a sense of commiseration and long suffering that I found quite familiar.

It was the universal sign of laid back people forced to deal with high-energy, demanding, tyrannical and over-the-top personalities on a daily basis. He reminded me of Issei Ryuudou, my childhood friend and pleasant oasis of normality amongst said tyranny and madness of Rin Tohsoka and the general strangeness of high school.

"As your new senpai, please allow me to welcome you to the Mid Bio Informatics Sekirei Plan Disciplinary Squad." He bowed in greeting. "I look forward to working with you."

"Ah." Embarrassingly enough, that was my oh-so-eloquent response before my brain jumpstarted itself. With my experience thus far in dealing with anyone from MBI, I honestly hadn't expected, and thus hadn't been ready for, anyone to observe traditional or proper manners. "I'm Shirou Emiya." I kicked myself at ruining my first introduction to the only normal person I'd met since coming back to Tokyo. "Please take care of me."

By his gentle smile, I think my faux pas was forgiven.

"Hey!" Benitsubasa shouted, breaking into the circle and standing in front of Natsuo – screening him with her body. "You stay away from Natsuo-kun!"

"Benitsubasa." Natsuo laid a hand on her shoulder with a weary sigh. "We talked about this. You can't keep baselessly accusing coworkers of things. We don't want another conflict with HR. Or building maintenance."

Yes, definitely another Issei. I chuckled, the sight raised my spirits. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as I feared. I had the feeling that I'd like Natsuo, and that helped absolve some of the feeling I'd made a huge mistake in… everything I've done today? Yeah… let's go with that one.

"Well, it's nice to see everyone getting along." And like that, Minaka ruined the moment. "Granted, Natsuo-kun, you're only in charge on the books. Karasuba-kun, the squad is still yours of course. Quite frankly, the thought of what you'd do to me if I tried to take it from you gives me nightmares." He said with a smile.

"Of course." Karasuba was entirely too smug as she nodded along with him. No, not just her. Did those two… this whole argument, this whole night seemed far too contrived. Did they plan this out between them?

"Welcome to MBI Emiya-kun." She turned her predatory gaze back on me. Yes, a large jungle cat indeed. "Oh, and lose the red coat." She ordered imperiously. "In the Disciplinary Squad, we wear black."

*Miya*

I very nearly frowned in distaste at the figure currently smoldering on my nice kotatsu – the one my husband and I bought together when we first opened the Izumo Inn. Instead, I took a small sip of gently swirling the smokey and slightly sweet liquid across my tongue.

It never ceased to amaze me the way brewing the perfect cup of tea was very similar to mastering swordsmanship: both required patience, precision, good judgment and persistence. Of all of the things I learned about humans I'd learned through Akihito, it was the Japanese custom of the tea ceremony that was my favorite.

The focus on proper technique, repetition, adherence to ritual and translation from thought to motion took the daily act and elevated it into a form of art. The romantic nature of life transcending into art that took the focus of many of these customs appealed greatly to the soul of the warrior poet within me. It was the small things in life that were the most important and savoring a nice cup of tea was one of the more enjoyable and relaxing acts I'd found.

Relaxing was especially important when one of your long-time friends was doing his best to burn a hole through your hardwood dining table and singe your floor.

"Homura-kun, I know that isn't you ruining my table." I said, quite neutrally in my opinion, before drawing another sip of tea. The steaming lump of deject failure that I usually had the pleasure of calling my friend and tenant visibly flinched at the rebuke, but otherwise didn't move from where he lay half-slumped over the table.

With a sigh that hopefully conveyed as put-upon as I felt, I put down my tea next to the mostly silent yellow toy duck on the table. The aptly named Mr. Ducky had been a gift from Matsu-chan when she first moved into the Inn. Without a steady source of income and as a fugitive from MBI, she presented me with the oversized yellow toy and he'd been my faithful friend and companion ever since.

Homura's flinch had been the first time he'd moved in over an hour – only the slight twitching of his fingers and the steam escaping his clothes gave any indication that he was still alive. It must be quite painful for him, to be reacting so strongly that his skin was steaming and hissing at contact with…. Well, anything.

Now, if he was the only person in the house acting so wretchedly, then at least I'd know why he was acting thusly.

But no, there was something very wrong in Izumo house, and if there was one thing I could not stand more than anything else, it was not knowing what went on in my own home.

Tonight should have been a night of celebration. On one hand, it was a welcoming dinner to celebrate the arrival of my new tenants Minato Sahashi and his Sekirei Musubi to the Inn and on the other it was a secret (and somewhat belated) celebration for Homura's good news.

But instead, dinner had been a morose and quite affair.

Minato and company's arrival home had cast a pall over the night's activities, stealing the life and energy of the Inn's normally lively occupants. Not even the newest arrival, Musubi –the girl with unbridled vigor – or the normally rambunctious Uzume had managed to break the mood settled over the table. I had spent a good portion of the day preparing for tonight's feast and it was worrying (and disappointing) to see so much left untouched in a house full of Sekirei.

At first I had thought that I might be to blame.

I may not have reacted in the most understanding manner towards Minato's… unexpected guest. Little Kusano was the youngest Sekirei I had seen in a long time – much too young to be off on her own, let along in the company of an Ashikabi of all things. I admit, I had thought his arriving with the young girl in his arms was an indication that he wasn't quite the nice and respectful young man I had been led to believe; after all, what kind of gentleman would force someone as undeveloped as Kusano-chan to be winged?

In fact, I had been prepared to threaten him for his… predilections, evicting him from Izumo and politely introducing him to the police. I couldn't just stand by and let such an illicit relationship go on under my roof, especially not a forced one.

Plus it was against the rules my husband and I had decided on.

The look on their faces, however, held me back. Minato's face was a caricature of abject misery. Even the confused and desperate glances of the normally effervescent Musubi had any effect on him as she trudged after him in heavy, awkward silence.

Just what the hell happened today to inspire such a drastic shift in countenance in the excited young pair that had left this morning? To show up at the front door with an unwinged Sekirei and looking like someone had died was just not something I had expected of either of them.

And that brought me to little Kusano herself.

The girl wasn't winged, despite my first assumption. It didn't take me long to figure that out, in such close proximity to the young feather there was no way to hide from me. Although, based on the girl's actions, how long that remained the case was yet to be seen.

She was, however, terrified; hiding behind Minato or into burying her head into his shoulder whenever someone moved too suddenly or was introduced to someone new. It took cajoling from both Minato and I to even get her to look up from burying her head in his arms when I opened the door.

Thankfully, her exhaustion and hunger seemed to be a bigger priority to her than being scared as she didn't fuss too much while we ate. Well, didn't fuss other than refusing to let go of Minato the entire time, to the point of sitting in his lap and holding his hand the entire meal.

I took another calming draught of tea.

Perhaps tonight's dour mood had been for the best, given poor Kusano's state. The subdued nature of dinner had ended up with the girl relaxing more towards the end of the night, even allowing me to help her get ready for bed.

Granted, she was now curled up to Minato once more in what I'd normally consider inappropriate…

But I decided to let it slide for tonight. Having just tentatively gained her trust, it wouldn't do to upset her over no big deal right now. Especially if she was to become a permanent fixture with Minato here, like I suspected she was. No, I'd bring up my rules and concerns with the boy later.

Speaking of the boy… his breathing just evened out in the upstairs room he was renting.

Good.

I didn't feel any guilt at the violation of privacy in monitoring him using Matsu's equipment. How could I be blamed for something I didn't do? Everyone knew it was Mr. Ducky who was the snoop; that I was in the room while he listened to other's secrets was hardly my fault.

I sighed, blowing the layer of steam off the mug held in my hands and letting the smokey aroma settle my thoughts.

Mr. Ducky's bad habit also eliminated one of the possibilities I'd been considering: that Takami Sahashi had been injured or killed. Losing his mother would definitely explain why Minato came home looking like he'd just seen someone die. It would also explain the girl's attitudes: the empathic bond they shared as Sekirei and Ashikabi allowed Minato's emotions to bleed into them.

Homura is also rather close to Takami… the nature of how close the two were was something of much speculation between Matsu and I. News of her passing would hit him especially hard, maybe even hard enough to transform him into the unmoving, smoldering lump that graced my dining table. Or it would be the straw that broke his back and sent him on a suicidal and headlong charge to kill Minaka Hiroto.

But that was not the case. While Takami had been injured, it seemed she had just recently recovered and would be returning home tonight. Was the news of her injuries enough to cause the change I'd seen in Minato and Homura? I didn't think so, but it did beg the question if Minato knew about his mother's involvement with MBI and the Sekirei.

I had to admit that I would prefer him to be left in the dark about that connection, for now at least. It wouldn't do to overly concern him with his mothers work or her relation to the Sekirei Plan. Also, it would lead him to possibly discover aspects about myself that I'd rather he not know yet.

Thankfully, from what I could tell from his brief conversation over the phone was that Minato was yet unaware of the link. Good. That was how it should be.

I let out another tiny breath, cooling the pool of warmth cupped in my hands before taking another sip.

"Mmm." I hummed.

Taking another sip, I surreptitiously glanced at the other miserable looking man in the house currently slumped against the table next to me. Homura was reserved, yes, but never had I seen him in such a state of failure. His disposition and posture so closely matched if not mirrored Minato's (and if Takami wasn't the cause), that I had to wonder if something hadn't happened between the two of them.

Minato Sahashi was one of the possible Ashikabi the flaming Sekirei was attracted to. I took another sip to hide my amusement at the pun. There was no sense in nettling him while he was in such a state with inappropriate humor.

Besides, Matsu-chan and I had already shared quite a laugh when Homura had revealed that he had finally reacted to someone. No, that's not quite true. With Homura's unique situation, I had felt happy that he finally found someone to love – and an Ashikabi at that.

The laughing had only come after he told us who he'd been reacting to. Really, I don't see why he was so upset at our reaction – for a man who became a male escort in the effort to contact as many women as possible in the hopes of finding an Ashikabi, for his destined one to end up being a man was just too priceless!

"Have you broken the news to him about your feelings?" I quipped. "If you two don't talk about your burgeoning feelings for one another, you'll destroy the harmony of my house."

I hid my smile as he groaned and pulled himself roughly upright. Okay, so I lied about the nettling. Having two young men, caught in the throes of passion, furtively hiding their love from their strict and unaccepting landlady were the things of stories and TV drama's.

Oh, the fun I could have with this. Within limits of course, wouldn't want the boys to leave Izumo to pursue their love.

"It's not him." Or not. "It's Shirou."

"That's good news then, yes?" And it was. Homura had first come to Izumo and started his crusade for the unwinged because of his own inability to find his own Ashikabi. To have finally found him, and it wasn't so much a surprise to find Homura's Ashikabi was a him and not a her (especially after all of his time searching for women), was nothing short of wonderful.

And that said Ashikabi was Shirou Sahashi, or Shirou Emiya if you will, was even better. The existence of Minato's long lost older brother was an unexpected benefit of the past week. I had to give credit to Matsu for not only finding him when he popped up quite abruptly in MBI's systems, but for getting so much information on him in such a short amount of time. That some of that information had to go Karasuba's way... well, if that was the price I paid for having not one but two scions of that family in the city and already involved in the Sekirei Plan, then it was a price worth paying.

And if Homura was reacting to Shirou… well, this worked perfectly. With Minato and Shirou's Sekirei-to-be both already staying in Izumo, there was a more than likely chance that Homura could persuade Shirou to board here as well. Yes, this was great news –

I was distracted from my thoughts by Homura's hand clenching white on the table, shaking slightly as he gripped the edge.

His hand was smoking.

Ah, Homura's delicate balance between his body and his powers always had been precarious. There had been the concern that because of his powers inherent instability, he might never find an Ashikabi of his own. Now that he was reacting, it must be a constant effort to keep control of his abilities. I made a note to Matsu to prepare more medicine to keep his body stable and powers under control, lest he immolate himself and take half (or more) of the house with it.

"He's dead." Homura grimaced. "Shirou is… Shirou's dead."

"Oh my…" I sympathized. I was lucky that I had not been drinking my tea at that moment, for I was unable to hide the shock I felt at his words.

Shirou Sahashi was dead?

That was unexpected.

I hadn't thought for a minute that the elder brother would be the first to perish, especially so early in the Plan.

That was… unfortunate. No wonder poor Minato was in the mood he was in. And why he had trouble talking about Shirou to Takami over the phone earlier. She must not know of her eldest's demise (again). Minato though… he must have seen it happen. Of course, that' why he knew of it before Takami. Why else would he be in such a state.

It would also explain Musubi's and Kusano's behaviors. Musubi was… she was a nice girl and she meant well, but I wasn't quite sure she understood the concept of permanent death. The way the Sekirei Plan was set up, to actually kill a Sekirei was a difficult prospect. Humans did not have that luxury.

And poor Kusano had the opposite problem. She was much too young to start her combat conditioning. Honestly, she was still too young to be outside MBI's Nurse Labs in the first place. No wonder she was so distressed, without the behavioral conditioning softening the psychological blow for her. Poor girl. Should I try to explore what she saw or did I avoid mentioning it entirely? Best wait and see. If the feather opens up more later then I could decide the best course.

As for the eldest Sahashi child… given his survival was a surprise I hadn't quite accounted for, the knowledge of his death wasn't anything terrible. That didn't come out right; His death is a tragedy, there was no denying that. But at the same time, he was also a relatively new variable thrown back into the game, and one that was removed before he could make much of a difference at that.

No, his short time in the city couldn't have caused too many ripples. The important thing to focus on now was the impact his death would have on the survivors. Minato was clearly disturbed at his brother's passing. We'd just have to be especially accommodating and understanding to the young man during this rough time. Losing a loved one was always difficult.

But, with time, patience and love, he would find a new family here. In Izumo.

That was really the best for everyone except…

"Homura…" I began. "Homura, what happened?"

Poor Homura.

To finally find his Ashikabi after all this time, only for him to be struck down. I briefly wondered how soon after Homura would follow in his Ashikabi's fate. Already the reaction was taking its toll on him and it had only started a few days ago. Earlier he had confessed to almost combusting, were it not for the timely intervention of Tsukiumi and her one-sided rivalry with the man's alter ego, Homura would be dead.

Now that his Ashikabi was dead, there would be no stopping Homura's powers from further fluctuation. We had been treating the symptoms, but only a stable winging would allow him full control without the risk of self-immolation.

Or so we thought.

It could be that MBI was correct in that even upon his winging, Homura would never have full control.

What was that quote about a candle? 'The flame that burns twice as bright?' If Homura's flame was to be quenched… that would be the true travesty in this matter. He was the only single digit who knew enough about our race and that was working on the side of the unwinged. His enmity towards Minaka and MBI was somewhat of a landmine, but he was a good and true friend.

I don't think I'd ever be able to replace him.

No, I already knew that there would be no one who could ever replace the tortured man before me.

"It was Karasuba…" I had to stop my hands from shattering my mug as they involuntarily clenched at the Black Sekirei's name. Of course it would be her, I thought, hiding the beginning of a frown behind another sip of tea. As Homura continued his tale of finding Minato and of the events that led up to Karasuba slaying his Ashikabi, I couldn't help but turn my thoughts inward.

Karasuba.

Time and again, it seemed, she held the unique ability to ruin everything I had come to work for, everything I had hoped to achieve, any happiness I might feel. I knew she would be trouble when she broke in to confront Matsu and Homura about Shirou and, were I a betting woman, I would say she was reacting to him as well. As remote as the possibility seemed for the woman, I didn't see another reason for her to turn from MBI's impeccable information collection resources and come to us for help.

I had thought that it would be a race between my feathers and the Black Sekirei for the affection of the last Sahashi male. A race that I didn't think Karasuba could win. Given the providence of meeting with both boys together last week, which already drew Minato

In a contest between the Black Sekirei and my feathers, I didn't think there was any way Karasuba could win.

Which shows why I don't bet when she is on the other end: she always manages to do what I least expect of her.

But why kill him? Was she so embittered that if she couldn't have him, she'd rather he died?

The news that Shirou had the other Scrapped Number following him was interesting, and despite her first encounter with Homura, she might be likely to aid us against Karasuba and MBI if it meant revenge for Shirou. The idea held no small appeal.

Obviously, without a check as effective as Yume, Karasuba had fallen back into her old ways. Maybe it was time to put her over my knee once more and teach her some humility. No, as much as I might enjoy it, there was a reason I retired from the Sekirei Plan.

"What are you going to do now?" I asked as he finished the last of today's account.

"I don't know." Homura muttered, dousing himself with his now empty glass of water. Normally, I'd be upset that he'd spilled on the carpet, but given that the liquid flash steamed and evaporated upon contact with his skin and clothes… I suppose he could be forgiven the little things. "I never really expected to find an Ashikabi, let alone a guy. I haven't even come to terms with what that means yet." He paused, shaking off what little droplets remained from his hair. "But I guess it doesn't matter now that he's dead, does it?"

"He's not dead."

A new voice immediately drew our attention to the voluptuous form of Matsu as she stepped into the room. I had expected her to come down at some point now that Minato was asleep. Since she was supposed to be in hiding, having a new guest limited the freedom the rogue Sekirei once had around the house.

"Shirou isn't dead." She repeated, sliding a tablet across the table. I didn't take it, letting Homura pick up the device in wonder. From her tone and the frown marring her face, I took it that this wasn't as happy news as the male Sekirei might hope.

"She didn't kill him? But I saw her…" He trailed off with a sharp inhale.

"Registered Ashikabi: Shirou Emiya." Homura read off the screen in a horrified whisper. "Active Sekirei: number 04, Karasuba…"

This time I could not stop the frown pulling at my lips, hiding the unsightly display behind my teacup. This was significantly worse news. Who knew what vile things Karasuba could and would do to the poor man now solidly in her clutches.

"That's not all." Matsu nodded. As a brain-type, Matsu was a rarity among Sekirei. Of the 108 feathers that landed on earth, she was one of less than ten. Her powers allowed her to remotely access and analyze any compatible electronic device within the scope of her powers – in her case she had a special affinity to computers.

She was probably using said power to read the gathered information from MBI's servers she duplicated on the tablet without needing to read the screen. "He's been added to MBI's internal files as an 'honorary Disciplinary Squad member pending a probationary examination period to be conducted by current Squad members Natsuo Ichinomi and Sekirei number 04 Karasuba.'"

"…number 104 Haihane. Unregistered Sekirei: scrapped number, Akitsu." Homura continued.

Damn her. And damn Minaka. It was almost enough to make one want to bite their lip in frustration. How in the world did this happen? There was no way Takami would have allowed such a thing to…

Takami!

"Homura." I managed to draw him away from the tablet that was… currently… melting…in his hand. Okay, he was cleaning that up, it smelt horrible. But first, "Have you spoken to Takami recently?" The two were close. I was surprised I was only hearing of Takami being attacked now instead of when it first happened.

"What?" He blinked. "Yes. Earlier today she told me about Minaka's text to the Ashikabi's about the Green Girl – I mean Kusano. She asked me to protect her. Why?"

"Good. Then we aren't too late." I sighed in relief. "We can't allow Karasuba to do… whatever she is doing or planning to Shirou. He doesn't know Karasuba like we do." I paused to take a sip of tea. "He needs someone to protect him, Homura. I think that person should be you, if you really intend to pursue him. Do you?"

"I…" Homua's eyes flickered across the table in indecision.

"You thought he was dead." Matsu added. "This is your second chance to be there for him."

"You… you're right." Homura clenched a steaming hand in resolve, his eyes burning brighter than I'd seen in him all evening. "I'll give Takami a call and ask if she can't help me set up a meeting with him. Even if…" He swallowed. "Even if he rejects me, you're absolutely correct: he needs to know exactly who he's dealing with. Not just with Karasuba, but Minaka too."

I could only smile, happy that my feather had found his path.

*Story End*

So yeah… not dead. That's a thing. I'm really sorry.

Thank you to MathiasNightlord01 and Stiama, for all your help in this chapter and others.

I know it may seem that I'm picking on Haihane a lot… I have no real response to that. I have a bad habit of falling in love with supporting cast members of anime and Haihane was one of them for Sekirei. Unfortunately she has the second most ridiculous and impractical weapon I have ever seen in an anime. Every part of it defeats the purpose of what it wants to do as a weapon: kill someone. Haihane can and definitely does rock it in canon, but that doesn't make it any less a terrible, terrible choice of weaponry.

Also, to cut off this argument before it begins: both Haihane and Shirou were holding back. A lot. Haihane didn't want to injure, maim or kill her intended Ashikabi and Shirou didn't want to or feel the need to push himself like when he was fighting Karasuba – where he also held back by his lack of using his signature magic. While they were both moving fast, it was more along the lines of masters level fencers than supernatural fighters. I.E. within human limits, even if the upper bounds of human limits. It's only after she starts losing control that Haihane picks her speed back up.

The next chapter I had thought to handle in an omake, but it turned out to be longer than anticipated and introduces a somewhat important side-character. So after the next (short) chapter, there will be a one week time skip as we go into the Phase 1 arc.

Next Time: Welcome to Mid Bio Informatics