Infinite Stratos is actually the greatest thing when you can turn your brain off and enjoy quality moments such as (one of) the tsundere(s) crying and telling the protagonist that she hopes that a horse kicks him to death. When you delve a little deeper, however, it's a shitshow that makes zero sense. Poor Sherlock was having an awful time trying to get me to fix my inadvertent inability to follow the Alaska treaty.
(Much hand-waving required to wrap your head around that one btw).
I wasn't home friday through sunday. This chapter would have been out earlier had it not been for that.
The traffic on this story is pretty silly, by the way. By chapter 1, half of SB's entire user base bumped it to like a million pages. Is this my Kagura Bachi awakening?
Thanks, Sherlock. Thank you to everyone on p atreon who voted for the chapter illustration (will be out soon, testing out a dual platform poll) and an awkward suburban nod to all you people on discord who voted for this story.
X
It was called the Shirokishi.
"White Knight" was an apt name for what it was, Shirou believed. At that time, when that thing and its pilot single handedly thwarted what could have been one of the greatest disasters in the history of the world, he could barely believe it.
Someone had hacked several military institutions across the globe and had sent a total of two thousand three hundred and forty one missiles hurtling into his home country of japan. Though it had its missile defence systems, They far from equipped to deal with a threat of that magnitude.
But Shirokishi was.
A lone machine stopped every single one of them in their tracks. It was too agile. Too precise.
Such a thing was fearsome; the whole world realised then and there what sort of weapon had been unveiled to them.
The world wanted it.
The world tried to take it. Two hundred and seven fighter jets, seven cruisers, five aircraft carriers and eight satellites from all around the world were all deployed for the sole purpose of retrieving the white knight.
They didn't stand a chance.
Surprisingly enough, however, that wasn't even the part that stood out to Shirou the most. Rather, it was the fact that all of this was done with such control that not a single human life was lost throughout the whole ordeal.
That all led to him now, staring at his phone as the latest news concerning the debacle was revealed.
The creator of the Shirokishi stepped forward.
Shinonono Tabane. What a strange name. It fit such a strange person.
No. Not a strange person. Shirou would go as far as to call her insane.
The Shirokishi might have saved countless lives, but the true purpose behind its deployment wasn't to defend. It was to show off. It was an oh-so-convenient showcase for a larger plan.
Calling it a business model was too generous for however convoluted it all was. She had a system. A project.
Shirokishi was not the only one of its kind.
She had many. A few hundred at least. She was willing to lease her product to whoever was interested, but she'd never hand over the keys entirely. No. They had to follow her rules.
Only she could create the cores behind the IS. She wouldn't make any more of those machines. She wouldn't tell anyone else how to do it either and she was fairly confident that no one would be able to reverse engineer it.
She was purposefully keeping the playing field even.
There would be no one country to come out on top here. With such dangerous machines available to all, the following step would be to ensure that no one else took things too far.
And so, as of today, the Alaska treaty was in full effect.
The machine, the Infinite Stratos, could not be used as a tool of war. It could, however, be used in self defence.
No private research and development could be conducted concerning the Infinite Stratos. All newly discovered information and insights had to be made public.
Made to take the fall for the entire incident for the simple reason of Shinonono's nationality, Japan, ground zero, would be used as a managerial headquarters for all related matters, with them handling the surrounding new governing body would ensure that all parties respected the listed clauses and that further societal integration could be done ethically and without threat of war.
As such, this headquarters would train pilots and engineers to an explicit standard. Beyond exceptions allowing for countries to implement certain proprietary upgrades on international grounds, the organisation would effectively keep the playing field even in perpetuity.
Shinonono Tabane had the world wrapped around her finger. She was trying to privatise world peace. And indeed, the years following the incident found that conflicts around the world had significantly cooled, as every country scrambled to catch up to the wonders this new technology possessed.
It wouldn't work. None of this would work.
Emiya Shirou was a man who wanted to be a hero of justice. He knew better than anyone that trying to eradicate war—to save everyone—was a wicked problem that simply could not be solved with a sword of Damocles being held above the heads of every world leader.
How would the world adapt to something so significant so quickly? It couldn't. There would be devastating consequences. The sort of consequences that got swept under the rug for the sake of the bigger picture.
Infighting. Trade wars. Embargos. Civil unrest.
Privatising world peace? No, Shirou disagreed. A new cold war had started. The suffering that this might cause in the future was not to be underestimated. He was sure of it.
Emiya Shirou would do everything in his power to help. This was now his number one priority; he knew in his heart that for all her posturing, Shinonono Tabane was not a true ally of justice.
Decidedly, she was an incredibly dangerous person.
And yet, as he rewatched the footage of the Shirokishi bobbing and weaving through missiles with grace in the air, a smaller part of him felt curiously forlorn.
The IS was mighty. It was heroic. It had accomplished what he had always strived towards as casually as one would flick dirt off their shoulders.
That small part of him had realised the truth, as much as he was unwilling to admit it to himself.
The Shirokishi and its pilot had ended his dream before it could even truly begin.
X
X
Orimura Chifuyu grunted and slammed her binder shut, once more startling the not-as-new roster of students seated before her.
"We'll call it a day here," she intoned. "Also, don't forget to grab a baggie on the way out."
She pointed at the basket resting on a stool near the classroom door.
The words themselves were wildly out of character, the students thought. It would have been easy to believe that they just misheard the woman, given that the delivery of the off-hand remark was just as vapid as everything else she said.
"...Cookie bags?"
"Those are bags of cookies."
"We're being given cookies?"
"Miss Orimura is…?"
Was Miss Orimura the sort of teacher to give out goodie bags? After a couple of days with the class, the woman that resembled more of a drill sergeant than a teacher really didn't give off that aura.
The teacher in question wasn't paying attention to their muttering. She was checking her watch, rather. If she packed up sooner she might be able to catch an earlier train…
"Uh… Miss Orimura?" one of the students asked her directly, hand raised.
"Yes?"
"Did you bake these yourself?"
"Of course not," she answered immediately.
"Store-bought," a different student concluded, mumbling to herself.
"It's still nice though, right?" another added.
"It's the thought that counts!" a few more remarked.
"I heard from a third-year that she always does this during the first week of classes, actually."
"I'm surprised! Miss Orimura must love her students lots!"
The woman was halfway out the door with her briefcase in hand.
"Wait! Chifuyu—"
WHAP
The attendance book was flung onto his face.
"Miss Orimura," she corrected out of habit before her little brother could say whatever it was that he wanted to say. She stopped and sighed, gathering her strength before turning to face him impassively.
He looked a little upset, rubbing his nose tenderly.
"Can you for once take the time to explain things properly to me? I don't see you in months and next think I know you're teaching here. And now… and now… cookies?" he questioned, the complete lack of understanding evident in his tone. "This isn't like you at all!"
Her first instinct was to yell at him again. The girls in his class were quick about making him think that he was the centre of the world, huh? No wonder he was big-headed enough to call her out like this again.
But… It was true that she had been distant. Now that she had moved out, she could only visit him during her days off, until now. That was maybe once or twice a month at the most. She tried to get him to come over…
She tried to not let the exasperation she was feeling seep through.
"You know where these came from," she tried to remind him. "It's what you came running to me about on the first day of class."
"Huh?"
She frowned.
"Are you acting daft on purpose?"
His eyes lit up like a deer caught in the headlights.
"They're freshly baked, just like every other year," she continued. "Early this morning—"
"Ha! Haha! Yeah! I remember! Sorry."
She was a little put off by the way he interrupted her like that, but didn't think too much of it at the moment. She was tired and wanted to go home.
Concurrently, a single thought circled Ichika's mind on repeat.
I absolutely can't let her tell the class about her IS.
Chifuyu tried to leave again—
A chair scraped against the floor loudly as another student shot to her feet. It was that one blonde… Alcott, was the name. Cecilia Alcott. This one was the IS cadet representative from England, if she remembered correctly.
The girl was pointing at her brother indignantly.
"You! Monkey! I've had enough of your nonsense!"
Admittedly, Chifuyu was caught off guard by the sudden uproar. Had it not been so, she probably would have told Alcott to sit the hell down.
"Me!?" Ichika asked, pointing to himself.
"Yes, you!" Alcott confirmed. "Just look at you, acting like your position gives you the right to act however you please. The others seem to be perfectly happy prostrating themselves at your feet but I will not stand for your brazen disrespect any longer! Just because you are Miss Orimura's sibling does not give you permission to heckle her in such a way."
"Heckle!?" he choked out.
Chifuyu would have stopped this long before now, normally. Instead, however, she watched silently to see how her brother would react in morbid curiosity.
Her intervention here would do nothing but pull him out of the hot seat. He was being confronted by his peers… so what now?
Another girl stood up. Chifuyu recognized her immediately. Shinonono's little sister.
"Aren't you being just as bad?" Shinonono countered, glaring at the blonde. The blonde in question gasped.
"How dare you. Have you any idea who I am?"
"A hypocrite, evidently," Shinonono quipped.
"I have no interest in the input of a nobody!"
Chifuyu clicked her tongue. They forgot about the boy and started throwing insults at each other. Now was the time—
"Hey. Don't speak to Houki that way."
Oh?
Ichika's words were austere. He walked up to the blonde, heedless of the peanut gallery, and stared her down.
Ah. So he was standing up for Shinonono. Good on him. She'd be a little happier with him growing half a pair of nuts if it weren't for Shinonono giving him googly eyes.
Get a hold of yourself, girl. Blondie was right about Ichika getting a big head and you lot are the reason.
Alcott was just about ready to snarl. Her fists were wound so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
"There you go again, throwing words around as though they hold any weight! Enough of you: I challenge you to a duel!"
Gasps filled the room.
"'Enough' is right," Chifuyu spoke up, cutting the little performance short. "Take your seats."
"But—"
"Sit your asses down."
They all listened this time.
Ha… she said class was over, didn't she? This counted as overtime. When did the school say she would get her teaching assistant again?
"Once we have a class representative, I expect such disorderly conduct to come to an end," the teacher declared. "I don't want any talks about 'duels' until then. Hopefully by then, the reasons you kids come up with won't be so asinine."
"Aww…"
"Bummer!"
"I kinda wanted to watch."
She ignored the whines of disappointment.
Another student shot their hand up.
"Miss Orimura! Miss Orimura! Can we pick the class representative now, then?"
She scoffed.
"And who would you all elect, exactly? Normally we'd wait another week or two."
"How about Alcott and Orimura fight for it? Winner gets to be class rep?" another suggested.
"That's not how this works," Chifuyu droned.
More bitching and moaning came. She was at her wits' end.
"...Fine," she relented. "Do what you want."
They all cheered. There didn't seem to be any serious objections. Shinonono looked a little peeved, but Chifuyu cared just little enough to pretend that she didn't notice.
"Do you two have any objections?" she asked Alcott and her brother.
"Of course not!"
"No way!"
Hah… that settled it then.
Though those were remarkably brave words coming from someone without a lick of experience with an IS.
"Monkey!" Alcott shrieked at Ichika. "Prepare yourself. Miss Orimura… I request that our bout take place expeditiously."
"No. It's 5pm, it's the end of the school day, and I'm going home. Class dismissed."
The door slid shut behind her before any one student could make her even later.
The class stared at the door, a little flummoxed.
One girl cleared her throat.
"So… how about those cookies, then?"
"Ooh, ooh! What kind are they?"
The student closest to the basket reached out, opening the bag for a closer inspection.
"White chocolate… and macadamia!"
The class squealed, and a gaggle of them rushed to the front for a bag of their own, as Ichika stared, dumbfounded.
"It's good!"
"What brand is it?"
"They're so generous with the chocolate!"
"Ichika, your sister's amazing!"
If only they knew, the boy thought as he slowly approached for a bag of his own, if only they knew.
X
Shirou dusted off his gloves against his pants.
"That should do it!" he announced cheerfully. The man turned on the sink and stuck his hand under the stream, demonstrating that hot water was coming out.
An elderly woman cooed.
"Thank you, Hon. You did such a fine job. Are you sure you're fine charging so little?"
He smiled into his tool box as he double checked that he packed everything.
"Of course!" he told her with cheer in his voice. "I was happy to help. You just had a little issue with your gas valve, is all. I would have done it for free if I could."
She giggled.
"Now, that wouldn't do. You have to keep food on the table somehow, don't you?"
The man grabbed his toolbox and stood up. He scratched the back of his head sheepishly with his spare hand.
"Ah! Well, my wife keeps me at home to look after the house. I like to take odd jobs in my spare time, is all. To keep busy."
The woman let out a little surprised gasp.
"Truly? Such a capable young man… Oh. I suppose this is becoming more normal nowadays, isn't it? With what they're saying about that new… what was it called? Im… Imprecise…"
The name wasn't coming to her.
Shirou chuckled softly.
"The Infinite Stratos? My wife's a pilot herself, actually, though nowadays she's taken more of a teaching role."
Her eyes lit up in recognition.
"You knew what I meant, at least! Enjoy your memory while you still have it, Hon. It won't last forever!" They shared a laugh before she moved on to a different thought. "I suppose she's quite the lady, yes? The one who got a busybody like you to hang up his hat for good."
His eyes widened. She saw the look on his face.
"I was a housewife for sixty years! Don't think I don't know that there's sacrifice in that, too."
Slowly, the smile returned to his face. It was half amused, half something else.
"Mm. I've given up a lot to be with her. I don't regret it, though. I love her and I want to support her however I can." He patted the pocket into which he slid the few bills that the woman had handed him. "I really do this because I want to. In a way, charging people for something that I'm doing willingly feels wrong. But… that's only one side of things, I suppose. Even if she won't ever say it, me bringing home a bit of extra cash contributes to our happiness. Not being a financial burden is more important to me than doing what I want."
His smile became a sheepish grin. He was prattling on needlessly.
"Sorry. Did that make sense? I guess not."
There was a twinkle in the woman's eye.
"You explained everything perfectly."
She saw him to the door. The young man offered a parting wave.
"Don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything else!"
"Of course, of course."
Shirou threw his toolbox into the trunk of his old yet well-maintained pickup and drove off.
There was still a half hour before Chifuyu got home. Longer if public transit was being difficult. He was just in time to grab groceries for dinner. He'd have to check the fliers to see if there was anything on sale today.
He heard a crackling of thunder in the distance. His eyes slowly widened as he realised what that meant.
"I left the bedsheets out to dry!" he muttered to himself.
He instinctively sped up, though was careful not to go too far over the speed limit. Wet roads were dangerous, after all.
X
A frazzled Chifuyu walked through the door.
"I'm home!"
Her followup died in her throat as a strange sound from the living room caught her ear. Did Shirou not hear her?
She took a careful step around the corner and found her husband on his knees, holding a blow dryer to a blanket draped over two chairs.
Only then did he notice her arrival. He turned off the dryer, looked at her wide-eyed, then back to the project before him.
He laughed weakly.
"Welcome home."
There were a few dozen articles strewn across the room in such a way. None that would damage the furniture, of course. Her husband was careful about this sort of thing.
"What happened here?" she could only ask.
"It rained," he explained. "I chose the wrong day to hang everything, apparently."
It rained? She didn't even notice.
"Sorry," he apologised. "I won't be able to get started on dinner for a little while longer. Is that okay?"
She scoffed.
"Don't apologise. Here. I'll take some of these down to—"
He grabbed her arm.
"Hey! Just leave it to me. Go take a bath! It'll all be sorted by the time you're done. I'm making fried rice tonight with the leftover rice in the fridge. It'll be quick."
She wanted to argue, but as tired as she was, when he gave her that smile that asked her to leave it all to him, she wanted nothing more than to do just that.
"If you're sure."
His smile grew contemplative. He was hesitant to say something.
"Shirou?"
"It might… be a good idea to get a proper dryer, I think. It would stop things like this from happening again."
She thought about what he said for a moment.
It would have never occurred to her to do something like that. Growing up, she never really had the financial means for expenditures that she considered superfluous. Hers and Ichika's clothes were hand-me-downs. Their groceries were from the cheapest brands that they could find.
Luxury was out of reach, therefore it was unimportant.
That wasn't the case anymore, was it?
She had money. Shirou did so much for her; there was no reason to hang onto her own frugal tendencies at the cost of their shared quality of life.
Chifuyu pulled her husband in for a hug.
"I'm sorry."
Without context, her hug caught him by surprise. Nonetheless, he held her in his arms.
"Chifuyu?" he asked questioningly.
"We'll go shopping for one on my next day off," she promised. "Let me know if there's anything else we need, okay?"
He averted his gaze.
"I'd feel bad. It's your hard-earned money—"
She cut him off by putting her hands on his cheeks. She offered a tender smile meant only for him.
"It's our life. Not mine."
She pecked him on the lips to stop the rebuttal that she knew was coming. It made him smile.
Though they both had things they were in the middle of doing, they decided to sit on the floor together for a moment longer.
"How was work?" he asked.
"My brother pissed off another girl and accepted a duel with her next week."
He lifted a brow.
"Is it anything that we should be worried about?"
She didn't make it sound like there was.
"Not really."
"Okay," he acquiesced easily. "How were the cookies?"
She snorted.
"They're always a hit. You don't have to do this every year, you know. Isn't it a pretty thankless job?"
He smiled broadly and her cheeks couldn't stave off a bit of colour. She always thought it was a handsome smile.
"Of course I do. It's my 'thank you' to them."
A thank you for what, he didn't say.
Chifuyu scoffed.
"Sure."
They sat, leaning against each other in a happy silence for a moment longer.
"Ah. I have to make a call," the woman mused as the thought came to her seemingly out of nowhere.
He craned his neck to get a better look at her.
"Hm?"
Chifuyu pursed her lips.
"Remember what I was saying about my brother?" she recalled. "He doesn't have a personal IS. If he thinks he has a chance of keeping his head above water in a fight with someone who does, I'll probably have to pull some strings and get him one."
He sat up, looking at her warily. They both knew where she was going with this.
"No…"
"Yeah," she grumbled.
Her husband wore an expression that was halfway between disdain and disappointment.
"You'd better get to it, then.," he eventually said. She patted him on the cheek before getting up and heading upstairs, his eyes never leaving her as she went.
For a moment, the man could only stare into space, lost in thought.
Finally, Shirou sighed, sullenly picking up the hair dryer again, its droning howl mirroring his own thoughts.
Those sheets weren't going to dry themselves.