I don't—and likely never will—own jack.

Fate: Shinobi

Just for how long I've been here, Shirou wondered, yet ultimately had no answer to speak of. All the senses he previously had had vanished; he couldn't hear, see, or feel. None of the senses a human should have were prevalent in him anymore. Only his mind—in a state of a total disarray—stayed with him.

I've died, Shirou figured. There was simply no other explanation he could think of that would make sense. As for his death, that he didn't exactly know. Some vague collection of his last moments still flew around his mind; him laying on the floor, blood all around him.

He had been stuck in a perpetual limbo that had no color he saw—or could describe—for seemingly a second, and at the same time, an insurmountable amount of time. Yet, it all changed like he had never been in the limbo in the first place. Simply, without a sound or a portal-like dimension that Shirou saw in fiction stories, took him somewhere outside it.

The first sign was that of wind; it blew right in his ear, hard. He had to rotate his head to avoid it, and then, even through he had his eyes closed, Shirou saw the bright sunlight ascending right through his squinted eyes and traveling through his nerves to finally give him sight of something.

A small smile bristled upon his face as he touched the grass. He couldn't see, but he was certain that he was somewhere high uphill, surrounded by coniferous trees, he assumed by their sharp smell.

A noise, or rather, a voice broke his enjoyment just some time later. A woman, one that very much reminded him of his one and only servant; he tried pushing and prying open his eyes, with little success. The vision was blurry, but he saw a woman—not much he could see, but the gold blonde hair and her height gave him all he thought was needed.

"I… missed you, S-Saber," Shirou stammered out, almost crying out the last words. He tried reaching out to her, but his hand was slapped away.

"Hey! The hell do you think you're doing?" the blonde told him harshly. She hmpfed loudly before getting to his level and picking him up. "You better thank me later, pervert. Now rest."

Shirou didn't need to be told twice; he was too tired to even lift a finger, let alone continue talking, even if he still thought she was Saber. Without even realizing, Shirou closed his eyes…"

XxX

"Saber!" the redhead shouted and flew up from his bed, tossing the blanket instantly. Cold sweat was pouring down his head, and Shirou's breathing was anything but consistent.

"Calm down, will ya!" the girl shouted loud enough to be heard beside the wall. She sounded nothing like the calm and collected Saber he remembered. The girl sounded full of energy, almost dangerously so, and spoke with an accent, or at least pretended to have one, it seemed.

Suddenly, she burst through the door, dissipating Shirou's hopes — the girl stood around the same height as Saber, but her eyes were brimming light blue instead of Saber's emerald green eyes, and the girl's in front face had whisker marks on them. Her hair was also blonde, but it was tied into a ponytail, and yet was messier than Shirou could've imagined hair could ever be. Her attire was also completely different; an orange and black jacket and orangish-yellow skimpy shorts, accompanied by long blue sandals that reached up to her calves.

"Who are you?" Shirou said, coming off much harsher in tone than he wanted to.

"Just the person that saved your life," she responded, sarcastically. "The name is Natsumi Uzumaki!"

An odd name, Shirou thought, yet it was nothing compared to everything else. Only now did he notice the weird headband the girl wore, and the indigent state the room he was in; he couldn't believe that in the modern day anyone could possibly live here. The only window in the room was shattered to pieces, and the wooden dilapidated walls looked as if they could crumble at any moment.

"Shirou Emiya," said Shirou and finally let out some of the pent-up tiredness by letting out a loud sigh. "Where are we?"

Natsumi looked confused by the question for a second before answering. "A mile from what's left of Konoha. May I ask, from what moon did you fall? You don't look like anyone I've ever seen. Did you hit your head hard? Was that why you were laying motionless on the ground?"

Shirou let out a loud gulp. "And Konoha… where exactly is it—" Shirou wouldn't be able to finish his words as a thunderous explosion came through the front door, making the whole building crumble. Natsumi, seemingly in a flash, took him by the collar and got both of them out of the 'house.'

"Stay back!" she ordered, pushing the redhead to the floor while making hand signs. "Clone technique!" she shouted, and in a puff of smoke, a few exact copies of her appeared, all rushing towards a man in a black coat with red clouds plastered every now and then.

"There's nowhere to run, brat!" the tall man shouted. "I've already informed my higher-ups! Just surrender and stop wasting our goddam' time! We'll find and catch all of ya no matter what, filthy demons!" he said and took out a machete, and started to rush forward.

Natsumi's both clones went in opposite directions. Once the man in the cloak was exactly in the middle, all three of them threw kunai's with explosive tags to meet him in the center. The explosion rang through Shirou's ears like thunder, only making him wonder, what the hell?

The dark-skinned man, surprisingly, survived, and while covered in bruises and blood, ran forward without fear in his eyes. He was quick; too quick for the blonde and almost sliced through her if not for her clones blowing wind-tornadoes out of their mouths from different sides, stalling the man back.

"Ya think that tricks like that ar' gonn' stop me!" he roared, and almost like some wild beast, bent down, and started running headfirst as a rhino. Out of nowhere, the blonde's interest and fighting stance vanished as Natsumi sighed boredly, and started looking up to the sky.

Shirou, confused, decided to stand up, and run towards Natsumi. Seriously, where the hell am I and what's wrong with them, he thought to himself before concentrating. "Natsumi—"

A head dropped right next to him. A disgusting face with a nose large enough for two, and every second tooth missing. Somehow, the gory cut-off part wasn't as disgusting as the man himself was. Looking up, Shirou saw a man with wild gray hair and a green vest standing casually near Natsumi, the previous man's body pouring litres of blood on the ground.

"Stop gaping and come ove' here!" took Shirou out of his shocked state. He didn't even see it happen. Slowly, walking, he observed the man. He looked far too casual for what just happened; it looked as if he chopped off heads every day.

Slowly, more cautiously, Shirou made his way to them. "That's Kakashi!" Natsumi informed, shouting from afar, folding her arms together in an annoying huff. "I had it in control, by the way. I could've handled him all by myself!"

The masked man simply yawned and turned to face Shirou who was still quite a distance away. "And who would you be? It's not common to see redheads around here," he said in a curious tone, but his attention quickly changed directions.

A loud gust of wind blew from the north, and a sharp pain crossed his body, making him fall over instantly. Near his eyes, a piece of origami dropped, pure red and soaked in blood.

"Shirou!" Natsumi cried out and ran to him.

"Just our luck," Kakashi growled loudly. "Wouldn't have expected the leader of Akatsuki to be around here. Guess your organization is standing at its last legs, isn't it, Konan?"

A stoic woman, with short purplish-blue hair in a bun, walked slowly towards them. She wore the same Akatsuki cloak, looking directly at Natsumi with her glowing amber eyes. "Akatsuki has seen better days," she responded.

Natsumi, suddenly, stepped forward, and shouted, "So, are you just gonna stand ove' there and look at me, or are you gonna actually fight me? I'll beat you to a bloody pulp, you damned—"

"Take him and get out," Kakashi demanded, with a tone that gave no wiggle room for Natsumi. "There's likely to be more of them, be careful."

The blonde, bitterly, nodded. Shirou, despite all odds, he stood up.

Glaring at the blue-haired woman, the redhead looked around. It was a pool of blood surrounding; how he stood up, he wasn't sure. But what he was now sure of was his previous demise — his failure to stand up. The flash of memories surged through his vision, him bloodied by Gilgamesh's might, not standing up. But he could've. I wasted it all. I could've pushed myself much further, he affirmed himself as he readied.

"Trace on!" he said to himself, and a blue light surged across his arm. A moment later, a copy of the sword that he was killed in Fuyuki by appeared in his hands — Merodach, a glorious sword with a golden handle and a light blade that stretches 40 inches, appropriate for the King of Heroes' second-in-command sword.

Pulling the sword with a swing to face the woman, a loud gust of air blew, and Shirou set his determined eyes on the woman in front. She was some distance away, but he made it in no time, Konan not moving a muscle in the meantime. Shirou set his hands high up in the air to deliver a swing from above, but he hesitated. The woman seemed disinterested in him despite sword hanging above her head.

"Nice sword. But you're a decade too slow for me." A dozen of origami hit Shirou fast enough for Shirou's eyes to barely detect them. All the areas that got sliced by the sharp objects weren't vital, Shirou realized as he fell to the floor, being in not too much different in pain or shape as he was before.

Ignoring Shirou completely, the blue-haired woman set sights on the Jinchuriki, and as she readied to launch herself forward, she got struck by an annoyance — a sword from behind. The throw that the redhead threw wasn't strong, but it was enough to get stuck in her thigh, some blood dripping down.

To his surprise, the woman shook it off and threw the sword to the floor without much of a flinch. "Didn't think you had anything in you," she said, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Quite an interesting Jutsu you possess, I must say. Sad that it'll be wasted on the likes of you." After her remark, she threw another pair of origami aiming at his head, only for a gust of wind blown by Natsumi to save him.

"The hell were you doing?" she shouted as she ran forward and took him, placing him on her back, and took off. "How reckless can you be! You could've died just like that!" she continued as she bristled and jumped tree by tree to get away, leaving Kakashi and Konan together. Konan knew there was no other way to catch Natsumi if she wouldn't get Kakashi out of her way.

The words stung more than the sharp pain still felt from the wounds to Shirou. I was useless. No, I was more than useless… I was a hindrance to them, Shirou thought as he gritted his teeth, almost as if blood were to pour from them under pressure.

"What are the Jinchuriki?" Shirou asked, barely keeping his eyes open as the vision blurred because of speeds they were going at. "Who are the Akatsuki? Where are we…?" Shirou could yet again feel his life draining away. Just like the last time, huh? Just like that, I'm going to die again?

Sorry for the lame title, but I couldn't think of anything better. Anyway, hope it's clear that it's a very big AU. The Akatsuki is entirely different, some filler crappy characters will be alive and etc. Oh, and also, this is Shirou from the fate route, if you wondered.

I could introduce a gamer-like system if y'all would want it. Leave your thoughts in the reviews.

Until next time.