The Dawn of a New Hero
Shirou stumbled forward over the streets of his hometown, past the flames that were surrounding him on all sides. His empty, lifeless eyes stared forward as he walked, hoping against all hope for a chance at survival, to escape the fire that had swallowed a massive part of the city.
The flames encompassed everything in sight, burning it all to cinders. Even things that should not burn were consumed by this unnatural fire, that seemed to roar its fury and hate to the smoke-filled sky above.
Bodies laid everywhere, blackened and burned, as if a giant had randomly poured them out into the streets. Debris was scattered around, as buildings collapsed under the strain of the heat.
But Shirou kept walking, past it all.
The air was filled with the tortured screams of the dying and the desperate pleas of those who still lived. But screams and pleas alike went unheeded. The flames continued their work, making no distinction between human or animal, man or woman, young or old, noble or evil.
It just burned.
Shirou still walked on, past the bodies and the wreckage.
People all around him were pleading for his help, for him to look at them, to acknowledge them, but he could not stop.
He ignored them and kept walking.
Death was everywhere. Friends who attempted to support each other burned together. Parents trying to free their children from the wreckage were crushed alongside them. Total strangers trampled each other in their blind panic, and lovers embraced each other, resigning themselves to their fate.
It was heart-breaking, a tragedy on a scale the city had never seen before.
But Shirou kept walking.
People perished in droves, utterly unable to escape. Some might have made it, might have lived a second longer if they'd been helped, but no such help arrived.
For Shirou still kept walking.
Abandoning the people pleading for his help, prioritising his own survival above all else, Shirou stumbled ever forward, hardening his heart and disregarding all morals he once had.
Just to keep walking.
But in the end, his selfishness was futile.
When everyone and everything in Shirou's sight was gone, Death came for him anyway.
It came in the form of those unnatural flames. They whispered to him, clawed at his sanity, and hooked their searing claws into his mind. Greedily, they demanded from him his life, like they had from everyone else.
Shirou however did not want to give up his life, stubbornly clinging onto it, fighting against the flames and resisting their will with his own.
For as long as he could, he resisted them, but as a mere child, he could not last long.
Not as he was now.
By some kind of horrid survival instinct however, Shirou knew what he had to do. He had to make sacrifices, to give up parts of himself to keep the flames at bay.
So he did.
His memories went first, all of them, from his birth until this night.
Then his emotions, as they only weighed him down here.
His hatred held him back? He got rid of it.
His sadness made him want to turn around? He got rid of it.
His despair made him want to sink to his knees? It went right into the flames.
His happiness, fear, anger, all of it, gone.
Eventually, it was only a hollow existence that was still walking there, bereft of anything that had made him who he once was.
With nothing more to offer to those flames, Shirou fell at last.
His body was utterly sapped of strength, completely unable to further resist the flames. He could barely even move a finger anymore, let alone battle this hellscape.
The blackened flames roared in triumph as he fell, and they elongated towards him, to burn him to ashes like everyone else, to curse him with All the World's Evils and feast on his Soul…
"That boy is not for you to consume, little god."
"...!"
Then they were gone, doused in an instant, and Shirou was left alone amidst piles of rapidly cooling ash, blinking slowly in surprise.
The surprises were not over yet however, and he suddenly heard a sound that he'd never expected to hear again.
A voice, calling out.
"Anyone?! Is anyone there?! Are there any survivors?! Please, if you can hear me, say something!"
A black-haired man was walking through the debris, seemingly in search of something, going from left to right, digging into the debris.
Shirou opened his mouth to call out to him, as requested, but then found he did not have a voice to call with anymore. His throat was too raw and dry. All he could produce was a groaning sound.
Fortunately, it was enough, and the man turned towards him in a flash, meeting Shirou's eyes with his own.
They were dark pools of shadow, those eyes, eyes that weren't used to expressing emotion, but when they met Shirou's, they seemed to light up like the sun itself. Despair turned to utter joy, and the man rushed over.
"Hold on." He croaked out, kneeling down next to Shirou. "I'll help you."
He then did something, something Shirou did not understand, and then the boy had to close his eyes as a wave of blue and golden light washed over him.
When he opened them again, he was somewhere else entirely.
A red hill.
A bronze sky.
A setting sun.
And all of it awash in that blue and golden light.
It was unspeakably pure, unimaginably radiant, and immensely soothing. Within moments, Shirou's pain vanished, and he suddenly found he could breathe again, his limbs once more obeyed his commands, and the pain in his head had disappeared.
Then he blinked, and he found himself back amongst the ashes, still lying face-down on the ground.
Until he was picked up and embraced by the man who had saved him, who was now outright crying in relief, muttering his gratitude over and over again, naught but pure happiness radiating from him.
"You're alive, thank God you're alive, thank you, thank you!"
It should have been a very weird situation, to be hugged so desperately by someone he didn't know, yet Shirou paid it no mind. He was too occupied with looking at the man's face, in awe of the sheer delight he saw there.
Delight over Shirou's rescue.
At that moment, a question began to take root in Shirou's mind, in his very Soul. A simple question, that would nevertheless forever dominate his destiny.
'Could I be that happy too if I saved someone?'
And with that question, Shirou succumbed to exhaustion at last, finally falling into blissful unconsciousness, knowing that everything would be alright.
When Shirou awoke again, he found himself lying in a rather uncomfortable bed.
Almost immediately, he rose into a seating position, ignoring how his head felt unnaturally clear and empty as he blearily attempted to take in his surroundings.
There wasn't much to see really, but Shirou nevertheless feasted his eyes on everything in sight, grateful to just be able to see anything at all again after he'd been sure he was about to die.
The simple white walls, the windows showing him the bright blue sky, the monitors showing his vitals, it was all beautiful beyond compare.
It was also obviously a hospital room. Shirou easily recognised it as such, though he couldn't remember if he'd even been in one before.
"…?"
He… couldn't remember?
He couldn't remember such an important matter?
Shirou blinked slowly at the gap in his memories, feeling very confused by his own inability to recall whether he'd ever visited a hospital before, and he tried to dig deeper into his mind.
No amount of digging brought those memories back however, and Shirou was soon forced to give up, his energy running out as he wracked his brain into exhaustion, heaving a deep sigh.
"What are you thinking about?"
If his emotions had been less muted, Shirou would have jumped in shock at the sudden question. As it was however, he just blinked once, before turning towards the one who had spoken.
Shirou recognised him immediately. It was the very man who had saved him from the fire. The man who had healed him, and had probably brought him here, to the hospital, right after.
Thin and pale, clad in black clothes, and with black hair and black eyes, the man could have been a ghost, which would certainly explain how he'd suddenly appeared in the room without a sound.
Disoriented as he was though, Shirou did realise that calling someone a ghost wasn't very nice, so he did his best to answer the question instead.
"Nothing." He said, truthfully, as there appeared to be nothing in his memories.
"You're thinking of nothing? That's not very much." The man joked, prompting a small smile from Shirou.
It slipped away quickly though, and after another moment of silence, he spoke up again.
"Thank you."
Two words, no explanation, but it was enough for the man, who gained a faint light in his formerly dead eyes.
"You're welcome." He replied warmly. "Really, it was the least I could do, after everything I've done to you."
"Oh." Shirou did not understand what the man meant by that, but he did not let that deter him. "My name is Shirou, it's nice to meet you."
"I am Emiya Kiritsugu, it's nice to meet you too." Kiritsugu replied, before cocking his head to the side. "Do you know anything else about yourself? A last name? Your family perhaps?"
"I… can't remember." Shirou frowned deeply, once more doing his best to dreg up some memories, but again, he failed.
"Take it easy." Seeing how Shirou was struggling, Kiritsugu held up a hand, motioning for the boy to calm down. "It doesn't matter, don't stress too much about it. For now, you must just be glad that you survived. The rest will come later."
"…"
'Be glad that you survived.'
Easier said than done, when you were the only one who had survived.
Flashes of people crying and screaming in agony flashed through Shirou's mind, and most starkly, he remembered his own inaction, how he had stood by and done nothing as people around him died in agony and terror.
How selfish he had been.
"Yes, sir." He said anyway, pushing those thoughts away for now.
"Good lad." The man grinned, patting his head with a rough hand. "Now, why don't you try and sleep a bit more? You still look exhausted."
As confused as Shirou was, he did still have some of the instincts that all children his age had, and he made to protest against the notion that he was in any way tired. No child would ever admit that.
But before he could get a word out, he was interrupted by a large yawn.
"See?" The man laughed, and Shirou looked down in embarrassment. "Sleep, lad. I'm not going anywhere. Promise."
Strangely enough, the man's words did set Shirou at ease a bit, and he sunk back into the pillow behind him, falling asleep again, his rest dreamless and undisturbed.
At least until he was woken up some time later by voices that came from outside his room.
It took Shirou a moment to orient himself again, but it wasn't long before he had an idea of what was going on.
Kiritsugu was no longer present in the room, but his coat was still hanging over the back of the chair, indicating he was still around, as he had promised.
The voices from outside were not familiar, but Shirou could easily discern what they were saying.
"This is amazing." One of the voices said. "This boy is completely healthy. No burns, first-degree or otherwise, no broken bones or bruises, and no organ damage. Even his lungs seem to be completely clean, without any trace of smoke and ash."
"Well, excellent then." Another voice replied. "The sooner he's given a clean bill of health, the sooner we can have a bed free for someone else. God knows we need it after this disaster."
"Actually, we could give him a clean bill of health right away," The first voice answered, though it took on a morose tinge. "The problem though is that no one has come for him yet. No family, friends, or otherwise."
"Fucking bad luck. His family probably died in the flames, poor boy. I heard though that the man who saved him is applying for guardianship. If the boy is really alone, he'll be adopted right away at least."
"That's a relief, I hope more people like that can be found soon. The other orphans will need them."
"Hm, quite, though I heard the local church is also willing to take in some of the survivors."
The voices continued on speaking, but Shirou stopped paying attention, too preoccupied with what he'd just heard.
Apparently, Kiritsugu had applied for guardianship for him in the case that no family came forward.
It actually made Shirou cautiously happy to hear. He barely knew the man of course, but he did know that he would very much prefer going with him than going to a church.
His choice made, Shirou laid back down on the bed again. Glancing at it, he decided that he should get out as soon as possible. Apparently, other people needed this bed more than he.
After a couple of hours of fitful sleep, Shirou woke up once more, seeing Kiritsugu sitting in the chair beside his bed, his eyes once more pensive and unfocused.
Upon noticing Shirou's gaze however, the man stood up and walked to his bedside, looking oddly nervous for some reason.
"I, ah, I have a choice, for you I mean." The man began haltingly, not bothering with greetings or pleasantries. "As it is, no family has come forth for you, no relatives or anything, so I think they're all de-"
He stopped himself with a wince, awkwardly clearing his throat, before he continued, albeit with a bit more tact.
"I have already taken the liberty of filing adoption papers while you were sleeping in case something like this would occur. So, if you agree, I can take you in as my son. What I mean is, you can choose now. You can go to an orphanage or another family, or you can come with this old man."
That was not a difficult choice for Shirou. He had already decided hours before after all.
Wordlessly, he pointed at Kiritsugu, who gave a relieved smile back.
"Okay," he said, seemingly much more at ease now. "Then I suppose your name is Emiya Shirou from now on. Welcome to the… family."
Shirou had amnesia and had never been a social genius on top of that, but even with those handicaps, he didn't miss the flash of pain that went through Kiritsugu's eyes at the mention of family.
Sitting up, he took the man's hand in his own, doing his best to give him a reassuring smile.
Clearly, his actions startled Kiritsugu, who blinked in surprise, but it wasn't long before the man smiled back.
It wasn't as true a smile as when he had pulled Shirou out of the flames, but for now, it was true enough.
When they walked out of the hospital together the next day –finally freeing that bed– Shirou obediently trotted after Kiritsugu. The old man apparently had a car parked near the hospital, and they were currently making their way to it.
The first part of that walk was done in silence, which suited Shirou well enough, but Kiritsugu appeared to find the quiet discomforting.
"Don't you have anything to ask me?" He inquired, turning slightly to face his new son. "This is a very new situation for you. If there's anything you want to know…?"
"…" Shirou had to mull that over for a moment, and then he just went with the first question that came to mind. "Where are we going now?"
"Good question." Kiritsugu nodded approvingly. "I recently purchased a house in Miyama town, for… business-related matters. We can live there for the foreseeable future. I also have enough money stored away to live comfortably for quite a while, so you don't have to worry about that."
"Cool."
The silence returned after that, but this time, it only took a few seconds for Kiritsugu to break it again.
"And… I suppose I should just tell you this now." He decided, before straightening his back, as if he was trying to be official. "Shirou, there is something you should know about me. You see, I am a wizard."
"Okay." Shirou said solemnly, seeing no reason to doubt his father's words.
"Okay?" Kiritsugu blinked once at Shirou's easy acceptance, and then shook his head wordlessly, a faint chuckle escaping his lips. "Children."
"So, what can you do?" Shirou asked. "Being a wizard and all."
"I'd rather not talk about that." Was the immediate answer, as Kiritsugu sobered up very quickly. "Maybe later, when you're older."
Seeing no problem with that, Shirou agreed easily enough.
Kiritsugu's house in Miyama town was big and spacious, too large for just the two of them really. It came with three furnished bedrooms, four guestrooms, a nice living room, a well-equipped kitchen, and plenty of space out front and out back. It even had a shed behind the actual house, and a real-life dojo.
Shirou and Kiritsugu hadn't faced any major problems getting settled in. Neither of them had many possessions, and neither of them was particularly picky about anything new they bought.
Furthermore, they discovered to their shared relief that their personalities aligned rather well, allowing them to quickly build a strong bond. It wasn't long before they felt like they truly were father and son, even referring to each other as such.
Their new neighbours unexpectedly turned out to be Yakuza, or Japanese mafia, but they were surprisingly pleasant nonetheless. Old man Raiga had been very welcoming, and his granddaughter, one Fujimura Taiga, had even claimed Shirou as her new little brother.
That was not to say that everything was fine though. There were also downsides to this new life.
Ever since leaving hospital, Shirou had been plagued every night by vivid nightmares of the Great Fire, waking up drenched in sweat and with the curses of those he left behind clear in mind.
Kiritsugu had not deemed this strange, as it was very normal to experience nightmares as a result of trauma, but he'd promised they'd go see a specialist if they didn't go away soon.
Not knowing any better, Shirou had agreed.
So he tried to ignore the nightmares, and for a while, he succeeded quite well.
Until one fateful night.
After having woken up from yet another vivid dream, Shirou could not do anything except lay still on his futon, breathing hard to get some air back into his lungs.
He had seen it again. The fire, consuming everything around him, taking his memories and identity and feeding on his very soul. It was roaring, it was burning, and it was everywhere.
Even worse than the fire though were the screams and curses of the people he'd abandoned. They were always there in his dreams, burning and dying. They cursed him as he walked past, condemned him for the sin of remaining alive, and loudly proclaimed he should have fallen, like they had.
The worst of all though was the fact that Shirou knew they were right.
By all rights, he should have died too. There was no reason he alone should have been saved. It had been pure, unadulterated luck, the kind of luck no one deserved.
He had lived by walking over the bodies of others, and that was something he would never forget or forgive.
There could have been some comfort in the belief that he perhaps had a destiny, a greater purpose for which he'd been spared, but Shirou couldn't convince himself of that.
All he knew was that he had to atone.
But how? How did one atone for such a wretched crime?
He had to. He simply had to. The dreams and the memories would drive him insane otherwise.
He had to make up for what he'd done-
"You're alive, thank God you're alive, thank you, thank you!"
The memory of being saved came to his mind unbidden, and Shirou froze completely.
A helping hand in a sea of flames. Dark eyes that lit up with happiness. A wretched life that once more had value.
'Could I be that happy too if I saved someone?'
Joy, happiness, and satisfaction.
Saving someone, saving Shirou, had made his father happy.
Could it perhaps do the same for him?
…It was certainly worth a try.
Shirou clenched and unclenched his hands, slowly breathing in and out. He remembered, vaguely, that he had watched some kind of television programme with Taiga, featuring a sort of characters that formed the epitome of everything the redhead now wanted to be.
A Hero of Justice.
That was now his goal.
It had to be.
The next morning, he told his father of his new-found wish.
Kiritsugu listened with a patient ear to Shirou's words, but he gave no reaction, his face remaining completely still as he continued looking at his newspaper.
It was only when Shirou had finished his tale that his father finally moved, turning to face him fully with an indiscernible expression.
"You know son, I think understand what you mean." He said after a few seconds of silence, looking very pensive. "When I was young, something happened to my village, something my… my father was responsible for. To atone, I wanted to become a superhero. But then things happened, and I didn't... I couldn't believe in my dream anymore."
"You didn't succeed?" Shirou asked, the corners of his mouth going down when his father nodded, before he rallied. "That's okay dad, I'll become a hero in your place. I promise."
The redhead didn't care much for the background on Kiritsugu's failed dream, nor did he feel the need to pry. He just knew that he had to save people to make up for his own sins, to find happiness for himself, and if that tied into an old dream of his father, all the better for the both of them.
"Hehe, I'm sure you will-" Kiritsugu began laughing softly, before he stopped when he saw just how determined Shirou was looking. "You are serious."
"Yes." Shirou had never been so serious before in fact.
"Is… Is there nothing I can do to persuade you otherwise?"
"No, father. There isn't."
"It is a path full of pain, you know. Full of failure and misery."
"I don't care."
"The chance of success is low, and it will get lower over the years. It would not be exaggerated to say that it is like walking into hell itself."
"That doesn't matter."
No matter what Kiritsugu said, Shirou would not be dissuaded. His need to become a hero, rooted in trauma and self-hatred, was too strong.
"Well then." Kiritsugu slowly rubbed his face, appearing both pained and proud. "If you are so certain, Shirou, would you like some training from me?"
The boy nodded so hard his head almost came off.
When Kiritsugu had offered to train his son, even the old man himself hadn't known how serious the offer really was.
He began with some general exercises. Some light physical training, a few tactical problems to solve, a bit of fighting, and a bit of training in stealth.
It was nothing too special, but more than taxing enough for a boy of Shirou's age. In fact, Kiritsugu half expected Shirou to give up at this point, to relinquish his dream once he saw how hard he would have to work to attain it.
Children were notoriously fickle after all.
Alas, Shirou hadn't given up, and he'd trained himself until he had mastered the skills as much as he could at his age. Not once did he complain, and not once did he even give off the impression of being close to quitting.
After that, Kiritsugu had begun to teach him some basic Magecraft. Once more, he half expected Shirou to fail. The boy was a first-generation Magus after all, and Kiritsugu was a rather lousy teacher at that.
But no, Shirou managed to surprise him again. After a few months, the boy had already managed to master Structural Grasping and Reinforcement, and had learned the basics on Runes, Formalcraft and Bounded Fields. He was no great Magus, but he was doing as well as could be expected under the circumstances.
He had dodged quite a bullet however, when Kiritsugu realised, three weeks into the boy's training, that he was using his nerves as makeshift-Magic Circuits, thinking that was the correct way of channelling Magical Energy.
That he hadn't already killed or crippled himself by doing so was an outright miracle, even with Avalon inside of him. Nerves were very delicate, and shoving Magical Energy through them in order to practice Magecraft was utter folly.
Of course, Kiritsugu had quickly disabused him of the notion, instead opening his natural Circuits for him to use, as he was supposed to.
Which only made Shirou even stronger, further solidifying his desire to become a Hero of Justice.
At some point, even Taiga had gotten mixed up in it. She turned out to be rather good at Kendo, to the point where she could make her way into top-tournaments if she could be bothered to apply, and she had gladly volunteered to be Shirou's teacher once she realised the boy was interested in the sport.
When it turned out that Shirou had a strong affinity for the blade as well, enough to get sincere compliments from Taiga, Kiritsugu had given up his attempts to make the boy relinquish his dream.
Clearly, his son had what it took. He might actually become a hero, even in the Moonlit World.
Which meant that… that it was time that Kiritsugu told him the truth, about many things.
Before the boy would find out the hard way.
"Dad, what are we doing here?"
Shirou and Kiritsugu were sitting opposite each other in the dojo, and despite his intention to tell his son the truth about his life, the latter hadn't been able to move a muscle for well over a minute.
Shirou's well-intentioned prodding forced him into action however, and he took a deep breath, doing his best to mentally prepare himself.
Then he started talking.
Shirou's eyes widened and his expression grew progressively shocked as Kiritsugu told the boy about his past. His lie of a childhood in the tropics as his father prepared to commit an atrocity, his acts of patricide and matricide, though both for very different reasons, and his life as an assassin and mercenary.
Then, about the Einzbern family approaching him with an offer, about his wife, Irisviel, about the Fourth Holy Grail War and its atrocities, and even about the Great Fire.
Shirou had a hard time processing things after his father revealed that it had been him who had caused the Great Fire of Fuyuki, after he had seen the Grail's corruption in the form of a God of Evil, Angra Mainyu, and had ordered his poor servant, King Arthur, to destroy it.
Throughout the story, Shirou could hear his father tone change from dead and monotone to pained and grieving. Kiritsugu clearly regretted what he had done, what he had been during most of his life, and most of all, he regretted to have abandoned his wife and daughter while causing a disaster had claimed the lives of hundreds of people.
"I caused the Great Fire." The man repeated. "I killed your family, Shirou, and all for a dream that was impossible from the start."
It sure was a lot to take in, and it took Shirou a few moments to process everything.
Then, he gave his dad a big hug, to the man's visible surprise.
"That's really terrible." The redhead spoke solemnly. "But it wasn't your fault, dad, especially not what happened in the Grail War. It was Angra Mainyu's fault that the fire started and the Einzbern's fault that Irisviel died. I can't say that I like what you did in life, but what happened to me was not your fault."
"Y-You…" Kiritsugu was visibly thrown for a loop again, gaping at his son in shock, but the surprise soon made place for a smile, not as pure and intense as the smile from when he'd saved Shirou, but not far behind either. "I am glad you think of it that way, my son."
"Of course." Shirou grinned, letting his father go again, before he pursed his lips when he remembered something. "So, I have a sister?"
"You do." Kiritsugu nodded. "Illyasviel von Einzbern. She is still in Germany, with her mother's family."
"You don't want her to live here?"
"I do, very much so, but the Einzbern will not let her go." Kiritsugu explained, and the flash of pain in his eyes was the most intense one yet. "The only way to get her out of there is by force, but I do not have the strength for that anymore."
"I see." Shirou nodded, before he smiled proudly, puffing out his chest. "Then you can leave it to me. I'll save her."
"You will? I'm glad to hear it." Kiritsugu patted Shirou on the head, his expression far lighter than before. "Though it might not be as easy as you think it is."
"I'll manage."
"…Perhaps."
With that, the first conversation between father and son about the father's past came to an end. The first conversation, but by no means the last.
A couple of months after this first conversation, things had largely returned to normal.
Shirou was out shopping for groceries, seeing that his father could barely walk anymore, and he was just leaving the supermarket when he spotted a young girl, all by herself.
She had purple hair, seemed a bit younger than he was, and she appeared to be doing groceries like him, though she was straining to carry her bag.
So naturally, Shirou went to lend her a hand, as was proper.
"Allow me." He said, walking up to her and holding out his hand.
"Ha?" The girl blinked in confusion, clearly surprised by his sudden appearance, and Shirou noticed her eyes were as purple as her hair. "Who are you?"
"Oh, pardon me, my name is Emiya Shirou." He introduced himself, realising he hadn't yet. "I noticed that you could use some help. Please allow me to carry your bag."
"Matou Sakura." She introduced herself in turn, before shaking her head. "You really don't have to help me though. I can manage."
"It would be no problem at all." Shirou nevertheless insisted, seeing that she really was struggling. "It would be my pleasure if you'd let me walk you home."
"…I see." She muttered after a moment, recognising that he wasn't going to back down. "Thank you."
She handed over her bag, which he lifted with little effort, before she started leading him towards her house.
She didn't say anything after that, only periodically sneaking a glance at him, and Shirou decided after a few minutes to speak up first.
"Nice weather we're having, no?"
"Eh? Uh, I suppose so." Sakura stuttered in surprise, looking up at the sky as if to check for herself.
"I'm pretty glad it's getting warmer again. I mean, I don't really mind the cold, but when you're walking to school, it can get annoying." Shirou continued, trying to keep the conversation going. "What do you think?"
"Oh, I never really thought about it." Sakura replied quickly, looking unsure how to handle the words coming her way.
She didn't look displeased by the conversation though. In fact, she seemed to appreciate it that he made an effort to interact with her, so Shirou readily kept the conversation going, talking on and on about whatever came to mind.
Sakura's answers were consistently short, sometimes just one word, but that didn't matter. He gladly continued talking anyway, as it seemed to have a positive effect on her.
Where before her eyes were empty, they now had some light in them. Her face was still not very expressive, but it was certainly better than before, with the corners of her mouth noticeably twitching upwards. She still couldn't be called happy or content by any meaning of the word, but at least she did seem to be enjoying herself ever so slightly.
Until they arrived at her home.
The unnaturalness and foulness lying over the house like a blanket hit Shirou like a punch to the gut. His instincts screamed at him to attack or flee, but he reined them in, giving no outward indication of his unease on his face. Sakura was still standing next to him after all, and he didn't want to insult or frighten her.
When he turned to her however, he almost dropped his bags in shock.
Sakura was wilting on the spot. Her posture, having straightened some over the past minutes, slumped down again, while her face once more fixed itself in an emotionless look. It was as if every bit of colour disappeared from her personality and all the progress he'd made was undone in a moment.
Sakura then turned to him, took her bag from his shoulder, and bowed.
"Thank you for walking me back to my house, Emiya-san." It was said in a voice that was even more emotionless than when she had first spoken to him. "Farewell."
And before Shirou could react, she ran back inside.
Shirou took a step forward before he realised it, as if to chase her, but he stopped himself.
Not because he was in any way fine with Sakura staying in that foul place, but because it was crystal clear to him that a Magus lived in there.
That, or someone had spent an awful lot of time and energy cursing the place to hell and back.
Either way, it was not a place he could just infiltrate, so Shirou backed off for now.
He'd be back though. He likely wouldn't be able to rest easy until he knew that Sakura was fine in there.
'I hope I'll see her again soon.'
The next day, Shirou was forced to take a detour through a park on his way home from school, since his normal route had been blocked because of a sudden construction project.
About halfway through the park, he suddenly heard voices yelling in excitement, voices that belonged to children his age.
It wasn't the innocent yelling of happy children though. It had a tribal and savage note to it, something base. It gave Shirou a very unpleasant feeling in his gut, so he decided to check it out.
Upon arriving at his destination and identifying the source of the racket, he found his suspicions confirmed, and he clenched his fists in anger.
Sakura was there, lying on the ground, surrounded by at least half a dozen other children. They were standing around her, either attacking her or riling up the ones doing the attacking.
"Freak!" One called out to her. "With your stupid purple hair!"
"She never says anything! She must be mute!"
"I think she's just dumb!"
Despite the harassment however, Sakura didn't say a word. She remained completely still, her eyes devoid of emotion, appearing resigned to her fate.
"She's not even reacting to this, she's boring."
"Well, try kicking her then."
"No, I'll throw some mud at her face."
Preparing to do as he had said, the boy picked up some mud from the ground to throw at the freak's face. Before he could complete his self-appointed task however, a hand was suddenly wrapped around his wrist.
"AH!"
The bully screamed in pain when his arm was twisted into an unnatural position, and he dropped the mud from his hand.
Shirou was not yet satisfied though, and he continued twisting the bully's arm until he was forced to his knees in agony.
"AAAUAUAUUAUAUH!"
"H-Hey!" Another one of the boys stuttered, suddenly not looking all that brave anymore.
Shirou ignored him.
"Stop! That hurts!" The bully in his grip wailed, and Shirou waited for another two seconds before he released him again, allowing him to fall onto the ground, sobbing and wailing.
"Leave her alone!" The redhead then demanded, glaring at the other bullies in the circle, ready to fight them should it be necessary.
It wasn't. As all bullies, these children were cowards, and his show of force was more than enough to scare them away.
"This guy's crazy!"
"Mommy!"
"Let's get out of here!"
They fled with their tails between their legs.
Shirou then turned towards the girl lying on the ground, who was looking at him with eyes as wide as saucers.
"Here." He said, offering his hand to help her up.
She didn't take it though, merely staring at it with a confused expression on her face, as if she didn't understand what it meant or what she was supposed to do with it.
"Uhm, Sakura?" Shirou asked in concern when a few seconds had ticked by. "Are you okay? Do you need to see a doctor?"
He did not want to say it out loud, but her silence worried him. Those bullies had not been gentle, and she might very well have a concussion or something.
"A-Ah!?" Sakura started at his questions, blinking a few times, before she quickly accepted his offered hand. "I-I'm fine, Emiya-san. I-I don't need a d-doctor."
"Are you sure?"
"Y-Yes, I am." She nodded hastily. "I'm not hurt."
"…" Shirou stared at her for a moment, before he looked down at her body, which was covered in bruises and scrapes.
"It's fine." The plum-haired girl nevertheless insisted.
"No, it's not." Shirou insisted in turn. "If you don't want to see a doctor, you should at least come to my house. My dad can help you."
"I-I don't want to be a bother."
"You won't be."
Sakura tried her best to stave him off, but Shirou was as stubborn as a bull, and eventually, he talked her into coming home with him.
"Come with me." He said, taking her hand, before he began pulling her along, softly but insistently. "And hey, if those guys ever bother you again, tell me, okay? I'll handle them."
"But they might hurt you." Sakura protested softly.
"As if! They're just a bunch of cowards." Shirou assured her, turning around slightly to give her a big grin. "Don't worry. I'll protect you for sure."
"You will?"
Sakura's mouth fell open a bit, her eyes widened, and she stopped walking.
"Yeah." Shirou confirmed thoughtlessly, turning to face her fully. "Absolutely."
Her surprised look persisted for a moment more, and then it made place for a smile so lovely it could melt any heart.
At that exact moment, a breeze went through the park as well, and caught the girl's hair, making it sway and flutter slightly, further accentuating her loveliness.
The resulting picture was one that could have been painted by an absolute master of the art, and Shirou blushed slightly, his heart suddenly deciding that it needed to beat a mile a minute.
This new burst of emotions was entirely unknown to him, and he quickly attempted to suppress it, turning away and resuming his march back home, very much aware of the fact that Sakura's gaze did not waver from him all the while.
Once they got back home, Kiritsugu was quick to nurse her back to health, with Shirou's help of course. The old man did pause for a moment when he learned the girl's name, but he made no big deal out of it.
Taiga was of course delighted at the story of her little Shirou coming to a damsel's aid, and she mercilessly teased him, not letting up until he was completely red and Sakura too had a healthy blush on her cheeks.
When evening fell, Shirou invited Sakura to stay for dinner, which she politely declined, as her grandfather had told her she had to get home before dark.
Taiga decided to walk her home, as Kiritsugu was sick, and Shirou was too young yet.
"Okay Sakura-chan, say goodbye to Shirou-chan." She said once they were at the front door.
Sakura did just that, giving a polite bow to him.
Shirou smiled at that and bowed back, but then, before he could get back up, Sakura swiftly stepped forwards and quickly pressed a kiss to his cheek. With a whispered "Thank you for today" she then rushed out of the house, leaving behind a very confused Shirou and his two very amused caretakers.
After Taiga had left, Kiritsugu turned towards Shirou, who had not moved from his spot.
"Congratulations on having saved your first damsel in distress, Shirou. You really didn't waste any time." The man laughed heartily, before his eyes softened and he placed a hand on Shirou's shoulder. "I am proud of you, my son."
Having said that, he steered a still unresponsive Shirou back to the living room, where he put Shirou in a seat and sat down himself as well.
"Now then Shirou, I had wanted to do this for a while now and you have given me a perfect opening today. I believe it is time for me to teach you about the politics of the Moonlit World…"
Several years after the Great Fire, almost half a decade after Kiritsugu had adopted Shirou, father and son were sitting outside on the patio of their house, watching the night sky together.
Kiritsugu was perfectly content, smiling peacefully as he enjoyed the general ambiance, but Shirou was rather on edge, unable to sit still, for some reason having a terribly foreboding feeling.
A feeling that was centred on his father.
"Dad, is there something wrong with you?" He asked at last after an hour had gone by.
"Something wrong?" Kiritsugu gave Shirou a confused look after the boy asked the question. "Why would think that?"
"It is just a… feeling that I have, I don't know why."
His father seemed to scrutinize him for a moment, as if searching for something, before he turned away again, letting out a deep sigh.
"I won't live through the night, my son. It is matter of hours, maybe minutes now, before I will die."
"Dad!?"
To say that Shirou was shocked would be an understatement. The news came completely out of the blue, and it left him reeling.
"Angra Mainyu cursed me when I ran into his flames to save you." Kiritsugu reminded him gently. "That curse has been eating away at me for years, and tonight, it will finish its work."
"Dad…"
Shirou couldn't believe it, couldn't believe how calm his father was being. Why were they sitting here on the patio when he could die at any moment?! They should be trying to save him, to remove the curse!
But his father did no such thing. He remained where he was and placed a fatherly hand on Shirou's shoulder.
"Don't tell me you're going to cry for this old man?" He joked, grinning lightly, having spotted the tears prickling in Shirou's eyes. "If you have time to cry, you might as well use it instead to promise me something."
"What?!" Shirou practically demanded.
"You know that I am proud of you, my son." Kiritsugu didn't immediately reply however. "You are kind, patient, helpful, and capable. I have no doubt you can become a great hero if you stay on this path."
"I-"
"But the father in me demands that I warn you as well, Shirou." His father interrupted him, now grabbing both of Shirou's shoulders. "Don't forget yourself. Helping others is good, but you are important too. Remember to always save yourself as well, just as you would save others."
"…"
Shirou had no idea what his father meant.
Why would he need to save himself of all people? He had already been saved, so surely, it was his turn to save others now, wasn't it? He couldn't continue to be selfish.
But he couldn't say that out loud. Not when this was his father's last request.
"I will." He thus promised, trying to sound as sincere as possible.
"Good." It was evident his father had seen through him, had seen that he didn't mean it, but Kiritsugu smiled nevertheless.
"I will save Illya too." Shirou added, if only to make up for the earlier false promise and to ease his father's passing. "And I will destroy the Grail."
And ease his passing it did.
There was a flash of surprise at Shirou's second promise in those dark eyes, but it was soon replaced by happiness and relief.
Barely a minute later, Emiya Kiritsugu died, a true smile on his face.
Several months had passed since Kiritsugu's funeral and not much of note had happened in that time. Fujimura Raiga had taken custody of Shirou and had delegated the task of checking up on him (read: mooching off him) to Taiga. A task she took to with great gusto.
Sakura had kept coming around too. She spent her days at his house as often as she could, being there before breakfast in the morning and only leaving after dinner in the evening.
Shirou was rather sure he could count her as a friend by now, and while he appreciated her presence, he hoped he wasn't cutting too much into her family-time.
"..."
Scratch that, he did in fact hope that it cut into her family-time, as much as possible. Her grandfather, Matou Zouken, was a creepy bastard alright. Just looking at him made Shirou almost physically unwell, and the idea that Sakura had to spend significant amounts of time in his presence send shivers down the redhead's spine.
His father had warned him that Magi could be vile and sickening, but even that warning had failed to prepare him for just how unnatural Zouken smelled, like corpses and worms. Whatever the old man was up to, Shirou did not want to know.
Worse, it had rubbed off on Sakura as well, undoubtedly because she'd been exposed to Zouken's vile crafts.
So yes, Shirou was very glad Sakura spent most of her time at his house rather than hers, even if it did cut into his training time a little.
But that was hardly a problem now. The two-week mid-winter holiday had just started, which meant Shirou had plenty of opportunity to schedule a few training sessions at the times that Sakura was away.
Hanging out with Sakura and training weren't the only things he did though. He also regularly made time to visit the Ryuudou-temple, where Kiritsugu lay buried, as a proper son should.
He had in fact scheduled one such visit for that very evening, after dinner, once his guests had left.
"Phew." Taiga sighed in deep content after eating more than half the meal by herself, picking her teeth with a finger nail. "That was delicious, Shirou."
"Don't pick your teeth at the dinner table, Fuji-nee." He scolded her slightly in return, before nodding in satisfaction when she quickly placed her hand back on the table. "I'm glad you liked it. Would you like desserts?"
"I do." Taiga nodded emphatically, before she drooped in disappointment. "But I can't. I have a meeting in ten minutes, at my place. Please save some of the dessert for me though. I want it tomorrow."
"Of course." Shirou nodded, before he turned to Sakura, who had been a silent so far. "What about you, Sakura?"
"Grandfather wants me home." She replied softly, making a brave attempt to smile at him. "So having dessert tomorrow suits me as well, Senpai."
"…I see." The idea of Sakura returning home already was an unpleasant one, but Shirou knew she would not be dissuaded. "I'll save all it for tomorrow then."
"You're a champ!" Taiga praised him, not for the first time.
"Of course, Fuji-nee." Shirou nodded, before he rose from the table and walked to the kitchen to put the cake in the fridge.
After that, things progressed quickly, and within the hour, Shirou was standing before his father's grave in the Ryuudou-temple, informing him about everything that had happened since his last visit.
Once that was done, Shirou left the temple again, but instead of going home, he walked into the forest bordering the temple.
After visiting his father, he always needed some time alone, to clear his mind. The forest next to Fuyuki was a good place for that, as despite its location near a huge city, it had a very peaceful ambience, somehow keeping out all the sounds and the light.
Surrounded by nothing but silence and darkness, Shirou felt secure in sagging a little, releasing a tired breath.
The silence did not last long however.
'BOOM!'
Thunder suddenly sounded overhead, and Shirou's gaze snapped upwards, where he gaped in surprise at the ink-black clouds gathering overhead.
Mere moments before, the sky had been perfectly clear, but now, it seemed to be shaping up to become the storm of the century.
'BOOM'
Thunder struck again, even louder than the previous time, while bright flashes of lightning shot through the sky like a god's grasping fingers.
Standing outside in a forest during a thunderstorm was dangerous, every child knew that, so Shirou promptly turned around and made for the Ryuudou-temple again. He had never been hit by lightning before, and even with his sense of self-preservation being as eroded as it was, he very much wanted to keep it that way.
Starting off at a rapid walking-pace, he soon started running. The Ryuudou-temple was close, only a few minutes away, but looking at the sky, Shirou feared he might not have those few minutes anymore.
In the end, he never made it to the Ryuudou-temple.
Though not because he was hit by lightning.
He didn't make it because he stopped, and he stopped because he smelled…
Magic.
Now, that might sound a little strange, smelling Magic, but Magi and other Magecraft-users generally perceived Magical Energy through one of their already existing senses, such as their sight or their hearing. The Magical Energy in question would then be translated into a visible phenomenon or a kind of sound.
In Shirou's case, the Magical Energy would be translated into a smell.
Shirou was in fact quite good at sensing Magic that way. Kiritsugu had often compared him to a bloodhound even, so good was he at finding and pinpointing Magical Energy with only his nose.
He was also able to discern certain types of Magic. Fire-Magic smelled like ash for instance, and Curses smelled like various forms of rotting biomass, while Runes smelled like old, dusty tomes.
At this moment, Shirou smelled ozone, clearer than he ever had before.
Ozone meant lightning-Magic, and judging from the potency of the smell, this lightning-Magic was more powerful than any Magecraft he'd ever seen before.
Even Tohsaka-san did not smell this powerful.
His gaze went skywards again, towards the thunderclouds, as he was certain the scent was coming from that direction. He squinted, trying to see clearer, but failed to discern anything in the dark mass of rolling clouds.
But then, suddenly, the clouds parted, and something came through. It was a tiny speck in the sky, barely visible even when Shirou Reinforced his eyes. It was falling down fast though, getting larger every moment.
Since it seemed to be heading straight for a point very close to Shirou's current position, the redhead immediately rushed out of the way, and then kept running for a while just to be safe, keeping a sharp eye on the projectile as he did.
It fell lower, and lower, and lower, until…
'BOOM'
With the loudest sound thus far, the thing hit the ground with the force of a minor Earthquake, making Shirou extremely grateful he'd been wise enough to get out of the way. It skidded on along the forest ground, dragging out a deep ditch as it did so, eventually coming to a stop several dozen metres further.
Right next to Shirou.
It wasn't even ten metres away from him, so close that he could have died had he been standing a little to the left, and Shirou gulped once, counting his blessings, before he turned to take a look.
To his astonishment, the projectile itself turned out to be a simple hammer. Of course, considering the destruction it had wrought, it was by no means a simple hammer, but it sure looked like one.
It looked like an oversized hobbyist-tool, with a simple prismatic form. It was roughly the size of a football, with a handle about as long as his forearm, maybe slightly longer. It had a strap hanging from the tip of the handle and it seemed to be made from some kind of pristine stone that glowed in the dark.
Shirou also noticed the inscription on the hammer's side. He recognized the signs as Runes, Norse Runes to be precise. Fairly powerful ones too, if the way they were glowing was any indication. His meagre knowledge was not enough to translate the inscription however, so he drew a blank as to what was said.
What he did know though, was that this weapon was definitely magical. If the fact that it fell from the sky amidst a storm of lightning was not enough to indicate that, then the smell it exuded certainly was.
But if it was a Magical weapon, Shirou needed to remove it immediately.
Magical objects were notoriously dangerous to handle. Many Magi had perished by being careless with such objects, and most mundane people stood no chance of being safe at all. If Shirou left the weapon here, someone could get badly hurt when it was inevitably discovered.
And that wasn't even mentioning what would happen if other Magi found out about its existence. According to his father, they were a greedy lot, and would stop at nothing to get their hands on an unclaimed Magical weapon. People could die if they started fighting each other.
And if the Clocktower found out…
No, taking the hammer with him would be in everyone's best interest. He would just pick it up and take it home for now, and maybe leave it behind later at Tohsaka's place. She'd know what to do.
The fact that he was taking a massive risk himself by touching an unknown Magical weapon did not even cross his mind. He only thought about others, discounting any risks towards himself.
Shirou turned towards the hammer, idly noticing that the handle was already pointed at him, as if to tempt him into picking it up.
He took a step forward, before promptly freezing again, as the aura surrounding the weapon became noticeably stronger. It almost seemed to have an exited tinge to it, as if the hammer was welcoming him.
He nevertheless took another step forward, and then another, slowly approaching the weapon, unaware of what effects his actions had.
The wind stilled.
The clouds froze in place.
The storm itself quieted as if holding its breath.
As Shirou walked up to the weapon, the entire world seemed to look on in anticipation.
When he finally reached the hammer, its aura was so heavy it almost forced him to his knees. Shirou persisted however, determined to remove the weapon before it could harm anyone.
He bent down and reached out to grab it, his fingers touching the handle...
Only to jump back in shock when he saw the inscription on the side shift as soon as he touched it.
Despite him letting go though, the Runes did not stop shifting. They altered themselves completely, until they had changed into perfectly readable Kanji.
'Whosoever lifts this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the Power of Thor.'
Shirou's mind blanked completely. He could only stare at the weapon with a dumbfounded expression.
For who had never heard of Thor? The God of Thunder, lightning, storms, strength, fertility, and, something that had always puzzled Shirou, oak trees. One of the most famous gods on Earth. The son of Odin and Fjord. The Protector of Mankind. The wielder of…
Mjolnir?
'No, it can't be, that's impossible.'
Shirou, being a practitioner of Magecraft, had more knowledge about gods and their weapons than most people had. He knew that Thor had really existed, but he also knew that the Age of Gods was over. Thor and Mjolnir were gone, banished elsewhere, never to return.
And even if that wasn't so, the real Mjolnir was as big as a four-person couch, and that was in its locked mortal form. In its Divine form, it was just a mass of lightning and destruction.
This hammer on the other hand was positively tiny.
Clearly, the inscription on the hammer's side was just a joke, or a boast from an overly arrogant Magus. It didn't change anything about the situation. Shirou still needed to take the weapon away before it would hurt someone.
As such, he reached for the hammer again, once more grabbing its handle, now with a tighter grip. Ignoring how the text on the side seemed to glow and the hammer seemed to vibrate, he braced himself, and pulled…
'BOOM'
Thunder once again shook the sky, lighting flashing around in all directions.
It was the loudest thunderclap until now, the loudest one to have ever sounded in the city.
The windows shook.
The ground quaked.
The storm howled in victory.
And all over town, people noticed the veritable explosion of power, each having their own reactions to it.
In a church, the only church of the city, a certain priest paused in his preparations of the morning's sermons. He had heard the clap and seen the flashes, but hadn't thought much of it, until his heart, the one given to him by the Grail, seemed to pause for a moment when the ruckus occurred.
It was beating just fine now however, so the priest put it out of his head. It must have been his imagination.
In the same church, a blond-haired, red-eyed King also paused in his actions. He too had heard the thunder, louder than ever before. Maybe even louder than the thunder from the Rider from the Fourth War.
He huffed, faintly amused by nature outdoing that oafish fool. He returned to sipping his wine, not seeing the need of investigating further.
Still, he had a feeling suddenly, one he had not experienced since his time in Uruk. A feeling of being watched, by those above.
In a stately manor, a black-haired girl started in shock from the sudden crash.
"Stupid thunder." She muttered. "I am trying to concentrate here."
Rin had indeed been busy. Not with schoolwork of course, she had just started the two-week holiday. No, she had been trying to practice her Magecraft. 'Trying' being the keyword here. Because for all that Rin tried to focus on her task, she kept straying off into daydreams.
Daydreams of red and gold.
In a decidedly less stately manor, in a basement even more decrepit than the house itself, an old worm lifted his head to stare at the ceiling.
"We might be getting a storm tonight." He remarked to his adopted granddaughter, who was currently undergoing her treatment. "Not a good time to be outside."
Despite seeming at ease though, Zouken could not suppress a twinge of worry. That clap, and the lightning accompanying it, had for a split-second broken the connection between him and his worms. It had been only for the shortest of moments, and everything seemed fine now, but it was enough to raise his hackles.
In the meantime, Matou Sakura was lying in her grandfather's wormpit, being constantly violated by the disgusting creatures around her while trying not to lose her mind. This was not a new experience for her, rather it had been going on ever since she had been adopted into the Matou family.
She did not miss her grandfather's words however, and she frowned in confusion.
He normally never talked during their 'training', and especially not about something as mundane as the weather. Matou Zouken did not waste words like that. He had always told her that talking idly was a sin.
It was strange though. Sakura could have sworn that she had heard nervousness in her grandfather's voice when he had spoken. But that was impossible, right? What would ever make a monster like him nervous?
Further away, much further, an old vampire, the one possessing the Second Magic, calmly moved on with his life and whiles. He had noticed nothing, nor had any other of his many versions across the dimensions, for a veil had been lifted in front of his many eyes.
At the same time, the message echoed through the Omniverse.
The Power of Thor had found a new wielder.
Soon, a new protector would rise.
Everywhere, any being powerful enough to notice looked up in surprise, and sometimes jealousy, as the message came.
In a place outside the Omniverse, in the timeless halls, the Creator sat, a smile on his face.
And reality rejoiced,
For a God had been reborn, and a new hero had started his rise.
Author's note:
Cool, Shirou has the hammer now.
This Shirou is a bit different from Canon-Shirou, which was probably made clear enough in this chapter. How he deviates from canon, you'll have to see for yourself.
I introduced some characters here, they will be of importance in the rest of the story as well. You would do well to remember them.
Be aware that the plotline of the Grail War won't start for quite a while yet. I will have Shirou build up his power and reputation first.
Have a nice day all of you.
Edited later for better flow and choice of words.