*Story Start*
The night was cold. I could see my breath misting in front of me, but I couldn't feel the cold. My circuits were humming in agitation and anticipation. If my walking was just a bit faster than it naturally should have been, well…
Reinforcement gave new meaning to the term 'power walking.'
Burning off energy felt good. Felt needed. I felt like if I stopped moving I would… I would… where the fuck was Karasuba when I actually needed her around?
I knew for a fact that she'd been stalking me earlier, per her assignment slash hobby slash whim. I smelt her unique and disturbing magical aura of decaying blood mixed with honey. So where the fuck did she disappear to?
And why didn't I have a way to call her?
The walk had helped to clear my head, but now I was a fair distance away from where my car was parked near Mianto's, and Takami's place was too far to walk to. I'd either have to backtrack or find my own transport and come back for the truck in the morning.
108 Sekirei… the name of the race that Musubi and Karasuba belonged to. I'd been complacent. Stupid. I could hear Archer's mocking laugh ringing in my ears, taunting me. It was probably my fault they'd soon be taken in the newest death game in my life.
I didn't get to have people close to me for long.
So many opponents… The scale of which put the Holy Grail War with its seven Servants to shame. I could only hope that since they were living, breathing creatures and not the resurrected spirits of heroes who ascended from the human consciousness, they would be less powerful and thus less destructive.
Of those 108, I had now encountered five. Of those five, I'd only met one Ashikabi and only by virtue of being in the room when Musubi all but jumped Minato, unless Takami was secretly Karasuba's Ashikabi…
Did Karasuba have an Ashikabi? I hadn't thought of it until this minute. If she did… would she be of any use? I doubt she or her Ashikabi would be willing to give me useful information.
Karasuba was no Rin Tohsaka.
If anything, she was just as likely to feed me false information. Or, if Minaka Hiroto was serious about the secrecy of his death game, she might use it as an excuse to come after me for real this time.
"Fuck…" I whispered, letting myself slow to a stop. Karasuba was the only one of those five Sekirei I had fought. If I were a normal person, she'd have killed me before I even knew I was in danger. Hell, if I was a normal magus, baring those who specialized in autonomous defense magic, her opening blow would still have probably taken my head from my shoulders.
It was one of the few times in my life I was grateful for the Grail War: it gave me experience in surviving a death game against opponents faster, stronger, and more skilled than I was. That single engagement hadn't been enough to establish a baseline on how strong Sekirei were compared to a Servant.
Karasuba often reminded me of Rider, and though we had been 'evenly matched' in our brief fight at the airport… I could tell she was holding back. Could she rival a Servant?
I hoped not. When there were only seven, it only took one rogue magus or Servant to almost kill everyone in both of the last two Wars. Hell, both times the Caster servant had been dangerous, destructive, and obvious enough that it was only an alliance of every other competitor that they were taken out. Both times Fuyuki had almost been destroyed and the existence of magic exposed.
Shin Tokyo was larger than Fuyuki, a fact that wasn't at all comforting if it was now home to 108 Servant class fighters. Fuck, was the country large enough for that many Servants fighting at once?
Ugh, I was talking myself in circles.
"I wish you were here… Arturia…" My Servant from the war. Arturia. Saber. My mentor. My partner. My source of inspiration. For an idiot and a failure of a magus like I was, she was the perfect Servant. Without her, I would have died twice the first night alone.
Or was it three times? I had trouble remembering the early parts of the War clearly. My memories weren't always clear.
If she were here, I would know Minato was in good hands. Musubi… well, Musubi was nice. She was bubbly, energetic, and straightforward to a fault thus far. Plus, she was willing and able to draw Minato out of his own head and into the world. She was a good person, just a bit ditzy.
Minato didn't have a Saber of his own. I was more of an a - No! Nope. Faker. I was a faker. So if we didn't have a Saber, I'd just have to fake my way into being ours. Unless…
Unless I found us a Saber…
No. That was stupid. I was only thinking of Karasuba because I smelt blood. I snorted to myself, shaking my head. Yeah. Imagine trusting Karasuba, that thieving, bloodthirsty magpie anywhere near the level that I sought after–
Wait. Why did I smell blood? I stopped in my tracks, looking about, hoping to catch another whiff. This wasn't magecraft, where I could identify the presence of lingering traces of prana as a pseudo-sense. This was a real and unfortunately familiar, if faint, scent in the air. Real blood had been spilled.
There! A bare red footprint was stark against the sidewalk.
The odd pedestrian passed it by, but it didn't seem like it was generally noticed yet. One bloody footprint led to a wavy scrape, like something coated in blood brushing against the ground, and then that same foot again. I huffed, pulling my coat around me tighter as I followed the trail. It may have been that I'd stopped Reinforcing myself now that I'd had time to think but… I could almost swear it was colder than it had been a moment ago.
The bloody trail stopped at a dark alley with all the hallmarks of a horror movie. A single, incomplete handprint lay on the brickwork: the faint impression of a pinky, ring finger, and thumb. Just past it, sliding into the alley was the indistinct blob like something or someone slumped against the brickwork before pushing themselves (or being pushed) off.
I stood outside the alley for a moment.
There were no screams. No faint slapping of flesh on pavement that signaled a victim losing their fight. No wet tearing sounds of tissue being torn and eaten, nor the cracking and snapping of bones.
Nothing but the 'scent' of honey.
Dammit…
I had wanted to get answers from Karasuba before I encountered another of her species. Hell, I still could. I didn't think I'd been noticed yet. I didn't need to go this way. I could turn around and leave and still make my way to Takami's apartment in the (increasingly vain seeming) hope that Karasuba broke in looking for food again.
Or… I could go back and get Minato and Musubi.
Musubi was untested, but excitable at the prospect of fighting. This could be an opportunity to gauge her powers and how well they would mesh with my own unique and highly specific magecraft. I wasn't sure how much I could really do in a fight against a Servant on my own, but I had changed a lot in the last seven years since the fourth War ended. Even if, on the off chance that Musubi was not much much stronger than I thought… either way a well-placed Noble Phantasm could tip the balance in our favor.
It would mean revealing to Minato that I was a magic user and introducing him to the Moonlit world… but he was already involved in a magical deathmatch, so that point might be moot. It was unlikely, but maybe being involved in said death game would reveal that Minato had the potential to be a magic user as well? Magical talent did tend to run in families, but much like I'd confided to Caren during our trip to Fuyuki, I was positive that Yukari wasn't a magus or magic user. Unless Takami was the most subtle practitioner I'd ever encountered and her workshop was her office… it was possible, but highly unlikely she was either.
I could have done either of those things. Instead… I found myself taking a step forward.
Arturia would frown… Going against an unknown threat was stupid. She'd chide me against taking unnecessary risks.
I took another step.
Without a plan, without any semblance of what I would be stepping into or what I would do… Rin would kill me if I survived and resurrect me to kill me herself if I didn't. I wasn't a hero, Archer's voice mocked me as I took a third step, I was a glorified cleaner. A dog of the Mage's Association.
But someone might be dead.
The trigger pulled in my mind, and a burst of prana formed the twin Chinese longswords Kanshou and Bakuya. The Noble Phantasms I first copied from Archer, weapons that encompassed his philosophy on our magecraft and fighting style. It didn't matter if the victim was a human or a Sekirei. I couldn't ignore it.
Stalking down the alley, another 'scent' made itself known. It was… I knew this scent. I couldn't help but breathe deeply, thinking of the nights Kiritsugu and I would spend on the veranda in the winter, looking up at the sky while piled under warm blankets. It wasn't quite wintergreen, more like the way the air tasted after a fresh snowfall, the pseudo-scent of freezing wind as it blew across your face.
I frowned. The twins from this morning smelled like ozone and could launch lightning bolts. The man from earlier (Kagari? I think that was it) smelled of smoke and heat, though I never caught him using magecraft. Karasuba was a she-demon and smelled of blood.
It was a hunch, but my instincts told me that the secondary 'odor' underneath the honey had something to do with a Sekirei's brand of magecraft. If I was right… then the only things this smell suggested were ice and snow.
The sporadic trail of blood curved around the building, leading towards the garbage. Hiding the body? There was no visibility to the street, which made it a good location to hide or kill… or feed. I crept forward, the scent of blood was growing stronger as I slid through the shadows between buildings. The trail was… odd. The blood wasn't fresh. It was still partially wet but fading. Drying.
Was I too late?
No. I could hear shuffling, though muted, from around the corner and the closer I got the stronger the 'smell' of honey and winter air. The Sekirei was still here.
A quick glance revealed a figure, singular, reaching up into a garbage dumpster. There wasn't anyone else, living or otherwise. No pool of blood or discarded body parts. What was… she? Yes. Given the contours of her body, I could tell she was definitely feminine; most men didn't tend to have quite that body shape.
She was rooting through the bin. Instead of a bloody, severed body part, however, she pulled out a crust of old bread. She collapsed, leaning heavily against the dumpster and bringing the morsel to her mouth… but didn't eat. From the pale yellow light of the alley lamps, I could see her ill-fitting coat was drenched in splotches of blood.
The crust fell limply out of her blood-covered hands, uneaten, as she tucked her head into her knees and froze there. Unmoving. Alone in the dark. There was no trace of battle. No bodies. Nothing to indicate a fight but the blood. Suspicious, but puzzled, I abandoned stealth and walked closer.
She made no motion at my approach. No sign of recognition, no tensing of her muscles. It was as if she was locked in her own little world.
At this distance, I could make out more details of her appearance. Or more specifically the lack of certain details. She wasn't wearing socks or shoes. Blood covered the sole of one of her feet and dried in uneven patches up both her legs. She had no pants or skirt on. As she brought her knees up, nothing was covering her long, pale legs but the torn hem of her tattered and stained lab coat hanging off her shoulders. The only other piece of clothing she had was a half-buttoned shirt, open down the front all the way to her belly button and dangling loose off her frame, revealing the unadorned curves of her breasts.
The light flickered, sending claws of shadows over her – Long purple hair. I flinched, gasping and bracing myself against the alley wall with empty hands that didn't sink into the darkness.
Sempai,the words caressed my ear like razors, are you here to kill me?
"–are you…" A soft, raspy whisper broke me from my trance. She raised her head slightly, her short brown cut to frame her face, falling to the side to reveal dead – violet -brown eyes and an expressionless face. "…here to kill me?"
She was only indirectly seeing me; her gaze was distant as she stared at the ground between us. If I hadn't known better… I'd think she was ignoring the world around her. But I did know better. I was, unfortunately, well acquainted with that stare…
Only this time I could recognize it.
"Kill you?" I asked, keeping my voice soft. I let go of the jagged edge of the brickwork, no longer needing it to ground me. That was a bad sign, so I ignored the question for now. "Is that your blood?"
She ignored me, dropping her head back to her knees. I approached her, slowly. The fabric of her half-buttoned shirt was intact, from what I could see in the poor lighting, without missing buttons and without the bloodstains marking her lab coat. I didn't see any bruises or cuts, no visible blemishes on her torso or thighs, though the blood on her arms and lower legs made it hard to confirm.
She looked… like someone who needed help. Right now, at this moment, it didn't matter if she was responsible for the blood. Nor did it matter that she might be a potential enemy. Hell, it didn't even matter that she wasn't human. If there was anything other than a sword… if I could be anything more than what I was, let it be someone who helps those in need.
"Miss." I kneeled in front of her, looking up into her face to try and make eye contact. In the middle of her forehead was a weird tattoo: a bird in flight over a yin-yang with two tama on either side of it. Her empty brown eyes didn't meet mine, continuing to stare blankly into the space between us.
"Miss, do you need me to call…" I trailed off.
Were she human, there would be no problem calling an ambulance or the police. But she wasn't human, and it was possible that a medical examination might reveal this fact. Would they report her to the government or other organizations for experimentation or dissection? Let alone what other, less clandestine organizations might want with a magical alien.
Hell, who knew if her species was even analogous to humans for medical treatments?
I doubted Musubi would know, but maybe Kara…suba… fuck, I was an idiot. Minaka fucking Hiroto himself had revealed that Mid Bio Informatics was responsible for Shin Tokyo's resident alien population mere hours ago. How or why I had no clue, but if anyone had the know-how to help this woman it would be them. "Would you like me to call MBI?"
I had Takami's number and she was probably still at work. She was the one person I knew there that I knew I could trust. Even if she couldn't do anything herself, she had enough influence to have Karasuba as a bodyguard so she'd at least know who would be in the best position to help.
"I can't…" She interrupted my thoughts, trailing off just as abruptly. She spoke so softly that I almost didn't even hear her. She didn't look at me when she spoke, just continuing to listlessly stare ahead as if she were alone in the world. Just as I thought that was all she was going to say, she continued. "I have nowhere to go…"
"Nowhere to go…" My jaw clenched. That didn't sound good. That didn't sound good at all. If I thought about it in the least pessimistic light… if I was wrong about why she was mostly naked in a dark alley… she was still clearly suffering from some form of abuse.
Whether it was that she got into a fight with her partner and fled, or… given the blood on her, a situation like Medea, the Caster of my War who killed her first master and chose to die rather than continue serving them… No matter what happened it wasn't good. I shouldn't – couldn't – leave her alone like this. "Miss… can you tell me what happened to you?"
The mostly naked woman finally turned to meet my eyes. "I was thrown away… because I am broken." She said with such certainty and hopelessness. To her, it was a statement, a fact about her existence as a person. I grit my teeth hearing her speak like that. This… her situation, her demeanor was hitting too close to home for me. Though her hair wasn't long or purple, she struck my heart with the same cord of despair and resigned acceptance of her fate. "…I am a failure… A Scrapped Sekirei."
I hated it. I hated it.
"You're not," I told her firmly. She blinked, staring at me perplexed. "No one is a failure." I believed this. I had to, or I never would have risen from the backwater third-rate magus whose sole magic was focused on pipes. "When you break, when you struggle, you keep going." I rose from my crouch and offered her my hand. "And if you can't, you ask for help. I don't know you. I don't know your situation. I have the feeling… I'm pretty sure I don't want to know. But you aren't alone, and I won't leave you on your own." Her eyes slowly drifted from my eyes to my hand and back. "So, take my hand and get up."
"But… you… aren't going to kill me?" Her head cocked to the side, almost birdlike as she stared at me. "But I've… I can't…"
"No." I might have planned on it, but fuck. I knew I wasn't going to the second I saw her sorry state. I don't even remember dismissing the Traced Noble Phantasms. I tried to smile reassuringly as she tentatively reached for my hand. "I'm going to help you."
She took my hand and I helped her to her feet, steadying her. She looked so small and lost. It was a fair distance to either Takami's or Minato's and my car. Too far to carry her which… as I thought about it, was probably for the best. Unsteady as she was, taking away her autonomy was… probably not wise. No, if her feet weren't cut up and sore already, walking all that way would change that and the sooner she was somewhere warm the better.
The alley, despite being sheltered from the wind of the streets, was colder than I expected. Maybe not to the level where I was concerned about her developing frostbite, but the exposure certainly wasn't good for her.
On that note, I removed my coat and slung it over her shoulders. She looked at me, not quite startled, but there was surprise in her gaze. Surprise and… something I couldn't quite identify. In silence, I buttoned the coat up around her. That would keep her warm and hide her gruesome clothes from onlookers.
"Come with me," I said as soon as I was finished and offered her my hand once more. Before anything, she'd need some actual food, not days-old trash bread, a bath to wash off whoever's blood that was, and some new clothes. I wasn't sure I could solve her problems, but at the very least a safe place to sleep would improve her situation. "I promise, nothing more will happen to you. I'll take care of you."
"Take care of me…" She repeated in a whisper. A trace of… something entering her eyes. Small, but it was a spark that burned away the detachment. Tentatively, her hand reached out from between the buttons of my coat and found mine.
*Shirou*
My companion had not broken her silence since we left the alley, merely locking her gaze onto the side of my head and following my lead. It made an awkward, but manageable trip back to Takami's apartment building. Her refusing to let go of my hand and clinging to my side through the cab ride, while eliciting well-meaning salacious comments, was better than someone thinking I was abducting her.
I hadn't thought about how it would look back in the alley, focusing on hiding her state from onlookers and keeping her warm, but my leading the smaller woman by the hand as she wore my coat did attract its share of strange looks as we made our way through the lobby and up to Takami's floor. Thankfully, the difference in our height made it so my coat completely covered her, almost dragging along the ground, so no one noticed her lack of shoes or blood-covered feet.
"When we get in, go sit by the kotatsu to warm up," I said as I keyed open the door to the apartment. "Once you're warm and fed, I'll see if Takam I has any clothes that'll fit you, and you can… take.. a…"
I trailed off as I stepped through the door. The lights were off. This would not normally be a strange occurrence, as it was economical and proper to leave the lights off when no one was home, but the apartment 'smelled' of blood. I'd gotten used to the faint metallic scent clinging to my companion and the odor was too strong to be leftover from Karasuba's visit this morning.
Which meant Karasuba was here. In the apartment. In the dark. Alone.
The hair prickled at the back of my neck, the sort of physical reaction normally reserved for coming home to a pissed-off Rin or hungry Saber. There was no Rin to Gandr me into oblivion in Tokyo, or so I prayed.
I had a bad feeling about this.
"Ichirou Sahashi." Karasuba's voice, echoing slightly in the darkened room, held an edge to it I hadn't heard since our first encounter. The words were spoken like the verbal equivalent of drawing a blade. Wait, no, they were accompanied by the drawing of a blade, a single sliver of curved silver light reflecting the light of the hallway shined in the otherwise black room. "Who is that woman?"
Ah. So this was how I died.
"Where's Musubi? Was she not enough?" Karasuba flicked a light on, just enough to illuminate her as she stalked forward, blade in hand. "You just had to pick up another stray on your way home?"
It wasn't supposed to be today. I had assumed it would be on some nameless hill, killed by people I tried desperately to save, blaming me for the very tragedy I fought my all to prevent. After all, that was how Archer died. I didn't care to admit it – no, I hated to admit it – but we were similar in oh so many ways. Some days felt like deja vu, like life was repeating itself. We shared the same crucible that forged us… so why wouldn't we share the same deathbed?
Other days I thought Rin would snap and finally kill me. Wait, fuck, was Karasuba another Rin?
Alright, I just had to talk my way out of this. I could do that. It wouldn't even be the first time I was threatened with death by a breakfast guest slash monster. Just be suave. I survived Rin for years. I survived the lunch box incident. I can do this.
"Why were you in the dark?"
Ah… So I was going to die. Good job Shirou.
"Wrong answer." She growled, her grey eyes narrowing to pinpricks as she took a step forward– weight pressed onto her front foot, blade just below eye level and pointed forward, perpendicular to the floor. Textbook opening thrust position. That made sense: the doorway was too narrow for her to swing her blade, she'd have to go for a thrust – stop analyzing her technique, idiot! The last time I'd been on this end of her straight thrust she'd nearly decapitated me and that was when there'd been a door and meters of ground between us.
Shit.
And it was suddenly very cold. The quiet brown-haired woman moved, ducking under my arm and placing herself between Karasuba; her back straight and arms hanging loose by her sides and jutting her chest up and out while shrugging off my coat. Small icicles formed in the air around her, growing rapidly in both size and number.
Shitshitshit.
Crack! – Crunch!
One of the icicles thickened, just in time to catch and shatter against the tip of Karasuba's sword.
"Both." I reached forward, grabbing the back of the (newly revealed) ice wielder's collar, pulling her sharply behind me just in time to keep the sword from continuing into the face of my protectee-turned-would-be-protector-turned-protectee-once-more.
She let out a startled, if somewhat delayed 'ah!' as her loss of balance broke her concentration. The icicles broke cohesion, dispersing harmlessly into the air. One down.
"Of you." Now, once again between her and Karasuba, my circuits flooded with prana, fueling the Reinforcement that gave speed to my body. I pivoted, sliding to the right as the blade passed by my left shoulder. We'd been in this position before, Karasuba and I, and I saw recognition flash in her eyes. She tried to tilt the blade, transitioning from a stab to a reverse slash, but I was too close.
My left hand came up, slapping the flat of her oversized sword up, just like I had during our brief fight in the airport. This time, however, there was no wide hallway for her to recover as the tip dug deep into the top of the doorway and lodged fast. My right leg slipped past her forward thigh just as my right hand caught hold of her collar, and I pulled, flipping her over my hip. Her eyes widened as she went head over heels onto the floor on the other side of me from the other Sekirei.
"Stop it!" Where my first three words were growled, the last two echoed like a gunshot. Both women flinched, freezing in their respective places on the floor. I hadn't expected that to work. If anything, I'd expected that coming between the two of them would have resulted in being gutted by Karasuba. Not that that would have stopped me; I'd had my insides blown out before. When after a second neither woman attempted to kill the other or, in Karasuba's case, kill me, I let out a long breath.
"You," I pointed to Karasuba, "don't violate my hospitality by killing me. If you do, not only will I not cook for you, but I'll have to try and kill you right back." By the angry red tint across the bridge of her nose, I was expecting her revenge to be swift and disproportionate. As I held her fiercely shining gaze, however, she (reluctantly) grunted her agreement. I had no illusions that it was the former part of my threat, rather than the latter, that caused her to stand down.
"And you," I directed to the other Sekirei. She hadn't moved from where she fell on the floor, half spilling out into the hallway. "I'm inviting you into my home." Well, Takami's home. "My hospitality is a sign of trust and goodwill. That means no fighting and no killing. Do not betray that."
"Ah…" She nodded, regarding me with the utmost expression of seriousness. Deciding that was good enough, I moved to help her up.
Karasuba huffed, picking herself off the floor, pulling her blade free from the ceiling, and sheathing it. I mostly ignored her; if she was no longer being unreasonable and trying to kill me, it meant the danger had passed.
"Good. Karasuba, I'm assuming you haven't eaten yet?" I asked, blatantly bribing her. "If you go warm up the kotatsu, I'll make us all some food."
Karasuba nodded to the question before snorting. She didn't move though, and was avoiding my gaze, both signs she was going to be difficult: she often acted childish whenever she thought she'd been wronged. Other times, too, now that I thought about it. "Why isn't little Musubi with you?"
"Musubi?" The question caught me aback. "Why would she be with me? She's with Minato."
"Minato?" That seemed to get her attention. "Your little brother, Minato? You mean you aren't her Ashikabi?"
"Whatever gave you that impression?" This time it was my turn to snort, shaking my head as I made my way past her towards the kitchen. "Come to think of it, how do you know Musubi? Are you friends? Rivals?"
Wait… was that the cause of her increased aggression? Because she thought I was Musubi's Ashikabi? Did she think that would put an end to our (semi, not really) peaceful interactions? Having meals with enemies seemed to be quite common during the Grail War, even if it wasn't the best survival strategy.
"I keep tabs." She said simply and went to comply with my request about the kotatsu. I expected that kind of non-answer from her. Either that or for her to ignore the question entirely, so I was surprised when she elaborated. "I heard that Musubi was winged by a Sahashi and assumed it was you. I suppose not everyone has good taste."
Good taste, she says. I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or an insult. I wasn't even sure which would surprise me more.
"Oh, and I want double portions." She waved jauntily over her shoulder as if shooing me into the kitchen. "As tribute for sparing you. Chop, chop."
My eyebrow twitched. She was a Rin… how did I not recognize it?
"What a terrifying master I have." I deadpanned. It seemed that it was the calling – no, purpose – of Shirou Emiya's life to serve smaller, obscenely dangerous, and exacting women. "Right away, Your Highness."
I turned back to the other Sekirei and was startled, biting back a yelp. While I had been dealing with Karasuba, she had silently sidled up to me. Closely. Really closely. So much so that there was less than a handspan or so of space between our bodies.
"She is dangerous." She whispered, catching my eyes with formerly nonexistent intensity.
"Yes, she is." I couldn't disagree. "Is that why you tried to protect me?" She flushed slightly and I smiled. She was starting to show some emotions. Good. That was a good sign. A good start to coming to terms with whatever happened… a good start at avoiding her fate.
"Thank you." I meant it. I really meant it. I hadn't expected her to try and protect me at all. It had been so long since anyone had even tried that the possibility had never occurred to me. "We should be safe now though. Go sit and I'll be right in with some food."
She paused, then after a second nodded and left to join Karasuba. I waited around the corner until they were both seated, and no further bloodshed occurred before retreating into the kitchen. It was a good thing that Takami had taken out the wall between the kitchen and the living room though, so I could keep an eye on them both while I cooked.
*Shirou*
Setting the table felt like I was stepping into no man's land, the cold war between the two women pausing as their unwavering gazes switched from each other to track every slight movement I made. Karasuba's half-lidded eyes did glint with amusement, however, as I served her double portions of everything-in-the-apartment stir fry and fresh tea.
It had been a while since I'd cooked so much, but past experiences in hosting magical women capable of killing you with their pinkies and a propensity towards swords had taught me one valuable lesson: when they're hungry, you cook all the food. The lunch box incident would never be repeated.
My stalker-slash-would-be-killer-slash-occasional-headache looked on as I slaved, the very picture of a pleased queen. The other woman, on the other hand, looked on with an inscrutable expression as she didn't so much as blink. No, it was slight, but I thought I could see her tense the closer I got to Karasuba.
No… not tense. Wary. She had tried to warn me that Karasuba was dangerous, and even tried to protect me from her. Even if she was only protecting me out of her own self-preservation (which I didn't think was the case), it made sense for her to be nervous for either of us to be around the grey-haired woman. I'd have had to be stupid, or oblivious in ways I thought I'd grown out of, to think of Karasuba as safe or – God forbid – domesticated just because she deigned to let me feed her.
Karasuba was, after all, a blood-soaked demoness from outer space. The words alone, though they might seem crazy, made her a threat to… well, everyone. Her enjoyment of causing pain and chaos only made her worse.
Case in point, she waited until I served myself to steal my plate, dragging it across the table to rest next to hers.
"Karasuba." My eyebrow twitched "What are you doing?"
"Double servings." The conniving witch chirped.
"I already gave you double." Oh, my vengeance would be… well, not swift, but I'd make sure it was petty and annoying.
"And see how I'm not killing you?" She smiled cheekily, her eyes crinkling into slits. I ignored the brief plummet of temperature at my other side. I was the only one, however, as those slitted eyes peeked open at the woman opposite her.
"Eat." I interrupted whatever bile she was about to spew. "Both of you, while it's warm."
Watching the two of them go at it was nostalgic. Karasuba ate with the same poise and dignity as Saber; slowly, deliberately, and inevitably eradicating all traces of food on her plate before moving on to what she pilfered from me. The brown-haired Sekirei, on the other hand, tentatively examined each mouthful before consuming it with the patient grace of Sakura. If Takami – given how she woke in the mornings and fumed and spit like a younger Rin – and Yukari – the living embodiment of both my sisters' best and worst traits – were both here, it would be like I never left Fuyuki in the first place.
Add in Minato as a younger, more innocent me, and the picture was complete.
I wasn't sure if that would make me Archer or Kiritsugu in that little snapshot. Ugh, I shook my head to banish the unwanted thought. That I could be the former, even in a daydream, was as unpleasant as it was sudden. I wasn't him. I wasn't.
"What are you doing with the Scrapped Number anyway?" Karasuba scowled across the table. Scrapped Number? I looked over to the woman I brought home as she stopped eating, looking down at her plate in resigned anguish. She had said something similar to that in the alley, hadn't she? It wasn't scrapped it was–
I'm broken.
My remembrance of her words echoed painfully with those of another.
"What do you mean by 'Scrapped Number'?" I asked. I had been looking for Karasuba to explain to me more about the Sekirei and the Sekirei plan… though this wasn't how I'd thought it would go.
"It means she should be put down with the rest of the trash." Karasuba's grin was harsh. No, this wasn't her normal bloodthirsty grin when her fighting blood got up. This was mean. Personal. She wanted her words to hurt. The air turned frigid, and not just metaphorically, as the other woman glared back. "I'm surprised she didn't realize it yet herself. Her brain must be as broken as the rest of her to still be around."
The other woman's glare broke abruptly at Karasuba's words. The temperature slowly returned to normal as she despondently dropped her gaze to the floor. She didn't argue. No, worse… she didn't disagree.
"Karasuba, enough!" I barked. "She's been through enough tonight, stop provoking her." She stubbornly matched my stare for a moment before turning back to her food with a snort of disgust. I waited to see if she'd try something again, but when she kept her peace, I turned to the other Sekirei. "Are you still hungry, miss...?"
Ah… I just realized I never got her name.
"Ah…" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was something. "Akitsu. My name."
"Akitsu," I repeated. "Would you like some more to eat?"
"Ah…" She shuffled in her seat but eventually managed to meet my eyes. "Yes."
"When you're full you can use the bath." I smiled and refilled her plate. The shy nod wasn't much, but it was something. "I'll see if Takami has any clothes that will fit you." I couldn't have her lounging around the apartment in bloody half-torn rags, or worse, nothing. God, what would Takami say if she saw that? "In the morning, we can talk about what you want to do and slash or where you can go."
"Thank you…" Akitsu flushed slightly.
"What about me, Ichi–" Karasuba added 'killer of moods' to her long list of titles before one of my unused chopsticks passed through the space where her head was a second ago. The other I twirled around my fingers in case I needed to follow up with another salvo.
"You," I emphasized, "mooch here often enough that it's impossible to get rid of you." She had the gall to nod happily at that. "And finish what's on your plate before you try and take seconds."
She smiled, withdrawing her hand from where she was trying to sneak the serving spoon out from under me. "But look, it is empty." She lifted her – to her credit – empty plate, but the one she stole from me was yet untouched. I merely raised an eyebrow and she chuckled, turning to eat from the pilfered dish. "You know, Sahashi-kun, I might actually be sad when I kill you."
"I'm sure." I deadpanned. "I'll be sad when you kill me too." Though only if I failed to take her with me, I didn't say. There were even odds that would get her excited enough to try for my life again. Hmm, there was a thought. "Actually, Karasuba, I'm glad you're here."
"Huh?" Her eyes snapped up to me as she almost choked in surprise.
"I know, whatever was I thinking." I drawled as she recovered, studying me with a surprisingly inscrutable expression. Weirder still was how Akitsu mirrored her expression on my other side. It was a little unnerving, not that I would let it show. "I had some questions to ask you about this… Sekirei Plan."
MBI was clearly involved, though I didn't understand how. Musubi had mentioned that she had been in MBI's care for her whole life till just recently when she was released to find her Ashikabi. So, was the fighting an MBI thing?
Unlikely. I didn't see a reason why they would nurture and raise the magical creatures just to release them and force them to kill one another. Could it be transactional? MBI's recent and rapid medical advancements could have been produced by the Sekirie… traded to the company in return for providing them a safe place to grow and fight?
If that was the case… What exactly was Karasuba's relationship with the company?
"Typical human." Karasuba snorted, turning back to her food in disinterest. "You found yourself a little bird and wanted to join the fun, huh?
"The opposite actually." I smiled coldly. "The only interest I have in Sekirei is how to kill them."
Karasuba sharply inhaled, her eyes languidly closing. "Kill a Sekirei?" Her whisper was husky. "You say the most interesting things sometimes."
"Joining in on this Sekirei Plan would put me at odds with Minato," I continued, "which I have no interest in. How to fight Sekirei, how to kill them, information about what the plan is and what its end goal is… these are the things I want to know. Once I know the basics, I can plan how to eliminate his competition."
"My, my." Karasuba's lips curved into a cruel, satisfied smile. "You certainly are a sweet talker, Sahashi-kun. I suppose I could tell you some of the things I know."
"I'm honored. First, I should ask what is the Sekirei Plan? Minaka mentioned its purpose was 'to ascend', whatever that means. Musubi didn't have anything to say other than–"
"To fight and fight and fight and fight," Karasuba said with me, an exasperated smile on her face. "I'm not surprised that's all she thinks about. I don't care about 'ascension' or whatever flowery language humans use. To me, the Sekirei plan is about dominance; the strongest Sekirei alone will remain standing, only to fall to me."
Well, she didn't lack confidence, I'd give her that. Unfortunately, as much as she chided Musubi for the same, it looked like Karasuba either didn't know or care about what the plan was supposed to achieve. Or she did and came up with a very believable obfuscation.
"I see." I tried to conceal my disappointment. At least with the Grail War, the winner being able to have any single wish granted was stated upfront. With an unknown prize, the likelihood of it being a monkey's paw or other horrible fate was unknowable. "In that case, is there a way to identify if a person has bonded to a Sekirei? Any distinguishing marks?"
"Marks? See the crest on the Scrapped Number's forehead?" I looked over at Akitsu. I had noted earlier that she had a symbol of a bird in flight over a yin yang, flanked by two tama on either side, on her forehead. I had thought it was a tattoo, but if that was what marked a Sekirei being winged… "When a Sekirei is winged, that symbol appears on their back."
On their back? So I didn't (so far) invite an assassin back home with me. It would have been a stupid and ironic turn of events if I was attacked in my own home on my first night of another death game. Wait… I glanced at Karasuba. Okay, it would be ironic and stupid if I was killed again on the first night of a death game.
"Then why do you have your crest on your forehead, Akitsu?" Was it actually a tattoo? Did it mean something I wasn't aware of? Some personal significance–
"I'm broken," Aktisu responded, slipping back into the same despondent manner as when I found her. Ah, shit. "I can never have an Ashikabi of my own." So she couldn't participate in the Sekirei Plan without a human contractor? Is that why she referred to herself as broken? I would ask Karasuba when Akitsu wasn't around. I didn't want to be an asshole and upset her further by accidentally picking at her wounds.
"That mark signifies her as a Scrapped Number." Karasuba cruelly explained, either missing or ignoring any semblance of tact. I was unfortunately right in my assumption. "I'm surprised she's–"
"Are you finished eating, Akitsu?" It was better to cut off Karasuba's caustic words before she really got going. "Would you like to shower now?" Akitsu focused on me and after a moment, nodded her assent. "Alright. The bathroom is down that hallway, first door to the right. I'll bring you some towels and a change of clothes for the night once you're in."
"Speaking of…"As Akitsu turned and left the table, I turned back to Karasuba. "Are you marked, Karasuba?"
"Now, that would be telling, wouldn't it?" She smirked, as sharp and deadly as her blade.
The soft, muted whump of clothing hitting the ground caught my attention, as well as the sudden chill at the table. Karasuba's eyes flickered off me and I turned to catch the positively arctic glare Akitsu was leveling at Karasuba. Both of her coats were pooled on the ground at her feet and – okay! That answered the (quite purposefully) unasked question if she was wearing underwear.
I averted my gaze from the sight of the starkly naked Akitsu and ignored the hawkishly glowering Karasuba.
The ceiling. The ceiling was a safe place to look.
"A-Akitsu," I'd like to claim my voice was steady and cool, that I spoke in a confident and manly fashion but… that was a lie. I wasn't prepared in the slightest for her to just drop what little clothes she had in the middle of the room. "What are you doing?"
If she'd gone through what I thought she had, I would have expected her not to undress anywhere less secure than behind a locked (and possibly barricaded) door. So why was she so unconcerned with undressing in the middle of the room? Unless… shit. Unless what she'd been through wasn't limited to just tonight. Was this ingrained behavior? Was her abuse a long-term thing?
"Ah…" The soft exclamation broke my thought and I (in my stupidity) focused back on the naked alien. Instead of covering up or anything rational or normal, she looked to the ceiling and cocked her head, rocking forward on her toes. It did… interesting things to her anatomy. I tried not to focus on how the overhead lights reflected off her pale skin or how her flexing legs displayed the supple strength of her calves and thighs as they rose to meet the soft curves of her – "Getting ready to bathe." She eventually continued.
"I-chi-rou." I could feel Karaauba's teeth grinding. Fuck, she was right. Focus on something useful Emiya!
"And you aren't changing in the bathroom because?"
She contemplated the question. "I forgot." Was that a lie? Did she have a reason she didn't want to mention? That was too long to think about forgetting to not be naked in front of other people.
"Next time, please change in the bathroom." I sighed, getting up to go look for a spare set of towels. Maybe Takami would have some clothes that would fit her too. Was I taking the opportunity to flee? Unrepentantly. Her behavior was… disturbing, and I needed to settle my thoughts.
The more I thought about it, the more I tried to ignore the little whispers of recollection – no, of familiarity when I looked at her, the more I concluded that she was a victim. That she learned to, or was expected to undress without privacy or nudity taboos…
I needed to think about what that meant for her going forward… as well as what I should do about it.
When I returned, Akitsu was notably (and thankfully) absent and Karasuba was polishing off the unattended food at the table. I could hear the sound of the water running, so Karasuba probably didn't kill her while I wasn't looking.
"Akitsu, a towel is on the floor outside the door." I called through the door, "Take your time in there. I have a set of pajamas under it for you when you're done." The sound of acknowledgment through the door proved she both heard me and was still alive.
Good. I nodded to myself and returned to the table.
"Sorry about that." I apologized to a mulishly silent Karasuba. "I didn't want her around when I asked my next questions."
"What if I'm not in the mood?" Karasuba threatened.
"I still want to know how Sekirei fight." It was a gamble, but I figured that would reignite her interest. Or at least get her to stop sulking – it wasn't cute, it was disturbing. "I've seen your skill with a sword. Akitsu can conjure ice, I've seen two Sekirei who can do the same with lighting and I'm not entirely sure what Musubi's deal is. Do all Sekirei have weapons and elemental affinities? Are there more esoteric abilities? Can I expect all Sekirei to be as fast or strong as you are?"
"First, no one is as strong or as fast as I am." She bragged, affecting a bored façade. The glint in her eye belied her interest though. I called it a win: given my luck so far today, something had to go my way… right? "Why do you want to know?"
"Like I said before, if I know how a Sekirei fights, I'll know how to kill one."
"You did say that…" She trailed off, long enough I thought she was done talking before she spoke up once more. "You could ask Takami, why ask me?"
"Because when it comes to killing things, I figured you'd be the expert." Flattery, thy name was Emiya.
"Of course." She snorted, letting me know both that she knew what I was doing and that she accepted the bait. "MBI has three main classifications for us: Power-types, Ability-types and Mind-types. Musubi and I are both Power-types, though we fit in different categories; Musubi is a fighter-type because she is a hand-to-hand fighter while I would be a weapon-type for my preference for the sword."
"I take it that the Power-type Sekirei have greater physical attributes than the others?" Weird. If not all Sekirei had elemental affinities (something I hadn't confirmed), I'd have thought that the Sekirei that were clearly using magic would be called Power-types.
"To be fair, all Sekirei are stronger and faster than humans." She was pretty condescending for someone I put on their ass tonight. "Well, I suppose I should say most humans." Aaaand I didn't appreciate the naked predatory look she sent my way. "But yes. As a rule, Power-types are usually better close-range combatants than the other two. The worthless thing you picked up," I was slightly affronted on Akitsu's behalf, "is an Ability-type. More specifically, an Elemental-type. Fitting with how basic she is."
"The last group, the Mind-types," She made finger quotes with a derisive snort, "are a bunch of useless, shut-in nerds. I bet even a human could beat them up."
So, the Sekirei could (very loosely) be grouped into the knight classes (Sabers and Lancers) or the Caster class, with the 'Mind-type' being a wildcard. Sounded like another kind of Caster to me though.
"In a fight between Sekirei, how is the victory determined?" The other information was great for putting together pieces of the mysteries surrounding the Sekirei Plan, but this was the key question I wanted answered. Did the Sekirei have to be killed? Could I target the Ashikabi instead? Was death the objective or could I force a surrender?
"Hmm?" Karasuba hummed as if confused by the question. "I usually just kill them." What a callous way of thinking – especially regarding your own species. I had expected nothing less. Worse, was that I could say the same about myself. Did that make us both monsters? Probably.
Archer's existence was proof enough of that. My own actions were… just nails in that coffin.
"Though lethal damage isn't the only way to win a fight," she continued, "Only the most fun." Her nostalgic, bloodthirsty smile was nothing new to me at this point. Nor was the way her eyes flicked my way. "I should say that the 'traditional' way would be for a Sekirei to touch the activation crest of a winged Sekirei. Either method will trigger deactivation and signal the company to recover the body."
A deactivation state? A safety measure to prevent true death? Or a signal to prevent the bodies from being collected by outside forces – corporate, governmental, magical, or otherwise?
"The last one is against the rules, but if the Ashikabi dies – and killing humans is really easy – then their winged Sekirei will shut down." She rolled her eyes at the last condition. Good. Those were conditions I was quite familiar with.
"Killing humans is supposed to be against the rules," she continued, "even if it is extremely satisfying." I didn't appreciate the way she eyed me when she said that. Not one bit. "Most Sekirei will probably refrain from attacking an Ashikabi though. They don't have the same liberties as I do."
"I see." How grim. Her 'liberties' must be the reason she worked for MBI and why she wasn't with her Ashikabi. Given her avoidance when I asked directly, she must have an Ashikabi. Good. It would be better to kill them than to have to deal with her… ever.
"Ah! Akitsu's soft-spoken explanation issued, breaking the momentary silent spell. "Shirou-sama."
"Just a moment." I'd have to address how she was addressing me: I wasn't nearly snuffy enough or far gone enough to want to be referred to as a sama. I looked over to where I saw her shuffling out into the living room and–
"Akitsu!" Akitsu's state of dress wasn't much better than when she was naked. Takami's spare pajamas were bunched up at her upper thigh and struggling to get over the curve of her hips. Her arms were through the tops' sleeves, but with how they were (slowly) flailing above her head I could see they didn't quite fit her arms. I couldn't see her head and she hadn't yet – no, I was pretty sure she couldn't pull the top down over her wider shoulders and more generous bust. "Stop. Stop! I'll help, those don't fit."
I managed to catch her before she fell over as she was waddling towards us, the ill-fitting clothes. Would one of my shirts fit her? I wasn't sure, but it had to be better than nothing because Takami's clothes definitely weren't going to work.
By the time I looked back at Karasuba, she was gone, leaving nothing but a pile of dirty dishes.
"Alright. Let's see if one of my shirts fits you for the night." I sighed. "We'll need to go shopping first thing, I can't let you go around without proper clothing."
*Shirou*
Takami still hadn't come home by the time I got Akitsu settled in Takami's spare room. It would be temporary arrangements since Yukari was coming to stay for a few days and would need the room. My younger sister had passed her exams and was accepted to Shin Tokyo University, so she was staying with us to celebrate with the whole family.
Could I enlist her to help take Akitsu clothing shopping tomorrow? Musubi would need some too, so that would kill two birds with one stone. As I contemplated the idea, I put the last plate on the drying rack.
Takami had said she might be late this week… okay, I decided not to wait up for her, given the odds she might just sleep in the office if it got any later. That might be for the best; I hadn't exactly asked her permission to house a strange alien girl overnight. With any luck, I could hustle her off into my siblings' hands before she got home. Then I could talk to her one-on-one instead of springing Akitsu on her unexpectedly.
Honestly, I was more worried about Yukari's reaction than Takami's. I'd have to frame the story right or she'd make assumptions about her. Could I claim she's a friend who had a bad fight with her boyfriend? I'd think of something while I changed for bed.
Usually, my pajamas consisted of just a pair of bottoms, but now that I was living with Takami I'd made a habit of wearing at least a button-down. I wasn't shy or embarrassed about anything, not really. It would just be difficult to explain the scars that crisscrossed my body.
"Sahashi-kun." Karasuba entered the room with her usual grace: ignoring closed doors and social niceties such as asking or knocking.
"Karasuba?!" I started, turning my back to her and slipping the shirt on the rest of the way. Shit, she saw. Now she'd either tell Takami when she could cause the most drama, or blackmail me with threats to do so. I wasn't really ready to give an explanation and… okay, so maybe I was a little embarrassed.
I wasn't a vain person, but even I recognized that scars weren't always considered an attractive feature. Especially the claw and bite marks, the puncture wounds, and the legacies of my fights against other magi. "Don't you ever–"
"Stop." For some reason, I did. "Let me see."
There was something… off about how she said that. It lacked the usual confident but disdainful humor that colored her speech. It was more… it felt like for the first time she was asking, not demanding. I don't know why, but I found myself turning to face her. She walked towards me, her eyes trailing from scar to scar.
While it was true Avalon, the golden sheath of King Arthur and conceptual weapon embedded within me gave me increased healing, it wasn't perfect. Ever since Saber left, the regeneration properties of the conceptual weapon had weakened. Dire wounds, wounds inflicted by powerful enough curses, and crippling injuries might be healed eventually, but their traces would always remain.
"It goes all the way through…" I heard her mutter as she came to stand right before me, raising a hand to trace the red sunburst over my heart. Despite myself, the light caress caused me to shiver.
"Karasuba?" I asked quietly. This was really out of character for the crow. Her half-lidded eyes were glazed and her mouth was slightly parted. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, as if feverish. Her breathing was slightly erratic. "Karasuba, are you alright?"
She didn't respond.
Instead, she took another step, almost completely closing the distance between us. This was wrong. This was very wrong. I didn't know why it was so wrong, but it was.
"Karasuba?!" This time she blinked, shaking herself as if coming out of a trance, and abruptly spinning on her heel. I flinched as her ponytail whipped across my face. "What the hell is–"
"I wanted you to know," She spoke, stopping halfway through the doorway, "I just wanted to say that I don't know much about the Scrapped Number." She didn't look back at me, her posture tense as she held onto the door frame with one hand. "It didn't concern me since I wasn't one. If you want to know more, ask Takami."
With that, she walked out of the room. Out of the apartment.
"What… the hell was that?" I asked the empty room.
Tonight has been one strange event after another. No, this whole day had been a series of increasingly odd and unfortunate events. I gave an aggravated sigh and continued getting ready for bed. Fuck it, I was entirely done with today.
My last thought before falling asleep was that, somehow, in some way, this was all Archer's fault. It wasn't, but it made me feel better to blame him.
*End Chapter*
A couple of things about this chapter. This is technically the third time (or fourth?) it's been rewritten or edited from its original posting. I think I got a lot of things I wanted to get right the first time, but how I got there could be improved. Hopefully, you all enjoy this one.
Second, some of you may enjoy and some of you might hate that I kept the scars on Shirou. I did this for a few reasons. One, this fiction is a recursion on In Flight. Two, it has an important place in the change in Shirou's and Karasuba's relationship. Three, Shirou has been fighting for years post-Grail War without Avalon. He's been hurt, badly at times.
Third, some of you may have noticed or know that I played with some proportions. Akitsu is almost exactly as tall as Takami with a thinner profile which is… surprising. Takami is, according to the wiki, 162cm with measurements 89/61/92 and weighs 50kg or ~110 lbs. Akitsu is 169cm (a 2.5-inch difference) with measurements 89/57/88 and only weighs 47kg or ~103 lbs. This leads me to two conclusions: one, Akitsu and the Sekirei might have hollow bones or magic anti-gravity hax, and two, this makes Takami a short stack dommy mommy. Never would I think Akitsu wasn't much taller and more well-endowed than Takami so… she is now. Power of fanfiction.
Hope you all enjoyed this one, and a big thanks to ParadoxicalThought, HibernaLupus, and OctZ.
Drake Valkyr