The faint, almost imperceptible smell of sulphur was very off-putting.

On an intellectual level, Shirou had already known that he would be mingling with devils during his education – but a small, strange part of his brain had inexplicably expected these halls to look and feel like something else; sunnier, less elaborate, more worldly. He had brief visions of stairways and classrooms that never quite matched, always expecting doors to lead to rooms that couldn't exist in this construction. His way to that auditorium had been just stressful enough for Issei to ask him about it, though it was easy to explain it away as nerves.

But with that scent of sulphur, however faint, mixed in, it suddenly became a bit hard to focus. Already he could feel his muscles ready to tighten, his eyes starting to wander. There was a faint urge to stand up and leave - and the worst part was, he couldn't really explain that to Issei - not when the boy looked halfway between stricken and spellbound as the young lady named Sona spoke.

"Starting now," she had begun, her words strict, "We each will represent the best of this city moving forward. We each will have a duty to ourselves and to our teachers to honour their guidance and learn as much as we can during our time here -"

It was, to be fair, rather intimidating. Entrance ceremony speeches were varied, but it had been his understanding that they were usually meant to guide students moving forward; but rather than doing so, Shitori's words felt like a warning, like promises of discipline and punishment. Her posture was rigid, her chin was held up - but he did not really feel as if she was arrogant or haughty, merely strict, on herself and on others. From her, he got an impression of someone who took everything very seriously, her duties most of all. It was a bit unusual to see a girl not that much older than himself carry herself with such rigidity.

Still, though he felt for Issei and his two stooges, he internally felt a bit vindicated;

"- And a duty to each other to behave appropriately and respectfully at all times inside this place of learning -"

Which he hoped the trio would take as a warning to not behave like complete creeps during their years there. It was a bit cruel, maybe but he kind of hoped they'd be scared into behaving. Kōsetsu had done his best, of course, but he could only do so much by himself. It was up to them to change themselves, and he suspected they'd need incentives for that.

As for Shirou himself…

Well.

… The smell of sulphur rang paradoxically in his head. Even as he listened to the bespectacled girl speaking, a part of his mind was always uneasy, always searching, always preparing. Having his friends - well, his friend and then the two idiots with whom he was somewhat friendly with – beside him made him feel a bit like how he had felt during that snowstorm so long ago, before he'd really known of danger and strife. Suddenly, he wasn't only responsible for himself. The thought both scared and inexplicably pleased him, in ways he wasn't quite ready to start unpacking just yet.

Worst was how faint the smell was - just faint enough for him to almost think it an illusion of his mind, his paranoia playing tricks on him… but only almost. It was a bit maddening, because were the smell stronger, he thought he could maybe get a faint idea of its source - but there were too many people, too much new information, and the smell was just so faint it was overpowered in direction by just about everything else. That he'd picked up on it at all was a wonder, frankly, but telling him that he was in danger without telling him how wasn't exactly stellar for his peace of mind.

– And then.

A flash of colour caught his attention, right at the edges of his vision.

He and his companions were all seated, just four faces amongst hundreds. Looking to his sides showed him very little; the auditorium was large, crowded, and lighting was mostly centred on the stage where the Student Council president stood, still giving her speech with surprising vigour. He doubted many others could've seen it in that lighting, during that situation - but there was a girl standing at the edges of the auditorium, just next to the door. In the darkness, he couldn't quite catch sight of her features in any detail. She was above average height for a woman, and had a slender figure - if he was more like Issei, he probably would've had more words for her, even in the shadows.

But what drew his eyes was her hair.

Long, luxurious locks of crimson - a far deeper red than the red parts of his own, straighter and more well-cared for, reaching up to her thighs. They swayed as she moved, turning her back on the speech and moving to leave - like a trail of flames following her every step. Before stepping out, she cast a look over her shoulder, he thought. But only for a second; after that, she was out, and he was left breathless.

Back then, in the subway, in the darkness –

He knew that hair.

Shirou was on his feet before he knew what he was doing. His abrupt movement caught the eyes of just about everyone directly next to him, including Issei - who was torn from his concentration and now looked at him with furrowed brows, looking somewhere between pissed off and concerned.

"You okay, dude?" His friend murmured.

Stiffly, he nodded.

"I need to use the bathroom," Kōsetsu responded promptly, and then left the room in a hurry before he could be questioned.

The hallways of Kuoh were completely different when empty. Just about everyone was inside the large auditorium– the once crowded ornate halls were now just ornate, and the crowd's absence made itself known. What had felt intricate going in now rang only as faintly threatening, like a warning. It was too big a place to be this empty without something going on.

The girl was a few dozen steps ahead of him – followed by another student, a shorter woman with ebony hair. They moved leisurely and with confident steps, all poise and something softer. The smell of danger followed them, just as faint as before, and with it a pounding of his heart he hadn't expected.

But when he called out, "Wait!", they stopped.

Clicks of soles against marble faded slowly into silence, even as the third set of his own continued getting closer. The taller of the two turned first, despite her companion moving fast; trails of crimson followed her movement, at once right and unnatural. Brilliant blue eyes gazed over her shoulder once again, and met the golden yellows of Shirou's own.

And widened.

Her companion moved swiftly, as if to defend her – but a movement from the redhead's hand stopped her in her tracks, and the brunette merely froze, eyes taking him in almost predatoriously. She, too, was familiar to him. Of course she was.

"Emiya," she called out softly.

His movements slowed, and he stopped halfway. Silence now replaced his steps, too. 'Emiya', she'd called him. It sounded l

right.

"Gremory," he greeted the overseer. "You're… here."

Despite herself, the beautiful (and he could not deny she was just that) girl let her lips curl into a smile. It was certainly polite, and it felt kind enough, but the tension in the air made it register like a threat of some kind. She tilted her head slightly to the side.

"Did you not expect me to be?" She questioned. "You saw us in our uniforms back then."

… Well, when she put it like that, he felt a little dumb.

"I know that," he murmured, eyebrows furrowed. "It's just… ah, nevermind."

"Rather," she continued, with her eyes twinkling in a way that he chose to interpret as interested, "I'm the one that didn't expect to see you around here. I hope you're not after anything untowardly."

– Which would probably mean 'I hope you're not here to try to kill me'. Her mistrust was earned, he supposed… especially given the simple and very unfortunate fact that he was, indeed, there to kill her… technically speaking, that is. The words of the mission he was given still rang loudly in his head, but right then and there they were less important than the pair he was speaking to.

"...As long as you don't give me a reason to," was Kōsetsu's eventual response. It, too, rang a bit hollow. Like a half-lie. "Rather, aren't you a little too comfortable with me being here?"

If the look in the other girl's face – Akeno, he thought her name was – was anything to go by, she seemed to agree. Actually, it occurred to him there that he had not given her anywhere as much thought as he should have.

She, too, was beautiful. Unfairly so, frankly; he feared for the day the idiots laid their eyes on any of these girls. Her figure was slightly fuller than her companion's, though just as slender, and her chest was… just as notable, to put it bluntly. She had long, dark hair — really dark hair. Like that of her Overseer, it was stupidly long, though she wore it in a long ponytail instead.

She was beautiful. He'd said it already, but it was too notable not to say it twice. And a good part of it was her eyes. Violet — an intense and brilliant colour. They were striking in ways words couldn't quite explain.

Rias Gremory shook her head.

"No," she said, "I don't think so. If you were the type who attacked without warning, you'd have done it back then, Emiya-san."

Right.

The reminder dragged grim memories to the surface by the throat. Back then, on that day — He'd made that choice. He thought it was the right one. But with the blood of a man probably still staining the floor of that place after all this time, any choice he could've made would've felt hollow in hindsight.

It must've shown in his face, too — because Rias Gremory spoke again before he could respond.

"I know I have said it before, but I am sorry for your loss." And here she sounded quiet, kind in a more honest way. He believed her… and Shirou had always been good at reading people, even if he sometimes ignored his own intuition anyway. "The Stray was my responsibility. Despite all else —"

He shook his head.

He had time to process that particular loss. Perhaps not accept it, or at least not fully — there was a small and treacherous part of his mind that still wept at the thought of failing to save someone — but he had processed it. Ran simulations of old memories, trained with it in mind. He was stronger, now, than he'd been back then. Maybe he could've saved the man — but it would've had to be from himself.

He'd learned a lot since then. From Samiya, from Anastasia, from Mephisto (indirectly though it might have been), and from himself. He'd seen a bit more about the world – about how complex it was, about how many sides it could've been. There were monsters everywhere – but they weren't dictated by race. And a first lesson in that had been the condolences this girl had extended unto him, so long ago.

It had been a brief moment. But it had never ceased being an important one.

In the face of horror, she'd chosen to show kindness and respect to an enemy who'd fallen and to one who hadn't yet. That had told him just enough.

"It was… regrettable. But I don't think there was much you could've done." A pause. He considered his words carefully. "Maybe I could've, but…"

He trailed off, and let words fade into the silence. The two women with whom he spoke gazed upon him in faint curiosity, like he was expected to say something else — and perhaps he was. It was hard, though. Shirou had never been the best with words. Not really.

"Right." Rias murmured. "Well, if you're here, then the Church probably has their eyes on us, huh?"

He didn't know the context of it — but somehow, those words seemed to alarm the buxom devil, and not just in the way you'd expect from opposing factions. There was an element of the puzzle he was clearly not seeing, a piece he was missing to make sense of things. But Gremory didn't seem to particularly feel like sharing it, because she soon shook her head.

"Well, I'll have to keep that in mind." A pause. "I looked for your name, you know. Emiya. Odd choice. All I found was a small family that emigrated to Europe a few years back. No boys your age."

She smiled. Blue eyes shone with a hint of belligerent interest. Dangerous, maybe. Just maybe.

"Even now, I don't know your name. But that's okay – " And here her smirk grew ever-so-slightly. "I've always liked unveiling mysteries."

Gremory and Akeno both turned at once – and, just like that, walked away. He stared at their backs as they left, golden eyes filled to the brim with uncertainty.

Back then, when they'd last met – Shirou had thought of war and death avoided. Here, too, the thought came to his mind unbidden; this was a second olive branch offered and taken alike, and to that he was grateful. But…

For how long could he delay the fall of the guillotine that was a war a thousand years old?

The silence gave him no answers.

(Things played out the same, time and time again.)

While the two of them walked back to their club room, Rias Gremory could not help but to sigh. Her smile was gone now – gone with the wind, as some would say. The furrow to her eyebrows and the slight speed to her steps were perhaps too-obvious signs of her inner turmoil, but she wasn't keen on hiding herself from her Queen anyway.

Having Emiya in her school was… A bit concerning. The boy himself didn't seem like he was an active danger, though they couldn't really let their guards down around an exorcist anyway, but –

"Buchō," Akeno murmured, "Is it really safe to just –"

She didn't finish her phrase. She didn't have to; Rias knew her Queen enough to know that the Brunette just didn't want to verbalise the idea that perhaps it was unwise to let Emiya go. Even disregarding her family history, times were changing – they both knew that, even if sometimes it felt like others didn't. For Akeno to even suggest it meant she, too, was concerned. Of course she was. But –

"Emiya's no danger to us, I don't think." A pause. The sister of Lucifer pursed her lips, thinking carefully about her next words; it was a delicate situation. "I find him very interesting, actually. But I don't think he's the sort who'd attack us unless we did something particularly heinous. It may be an issue if we ever bring anyone into the Peerage, but…"

"You still seem worried." The other girl commented, violet eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "If it isn't about him, then…?"

"I don't think Emiya would attack us unprompted," she repeated, "and if I could tell that, so could his superiors. But there was something about him… I don't think he's here as a regular student. I think he was sent here."

"What for?" Akeno questioned. They kept walking; the hallways were empty enough for it to be safe to talk even while out and about, but still she could see her Queen keeping a careful eye out for anyone else who might be roaming when unwanted. "If that's the case, then–"

Rias paused. Her eyebrows furrowed, like they always did when she was faced with a particularly confounding mystery; usually, she found those rather enjoyable, but this time they left a sour taste in her lips that just would not go away. Her mind ran through idea after idea, but not a single one felt solid… or palatable. The red flags just kept coming up, time and time again.

"I don't know what he was sent here to do. But I don't think he was meant to accomplish it."

She could be wrong.

Rias Gremory was inexperienced. She wasn't wise. She wasn't even all that powerful just yet – not like others of her bloodline. But she was clever, that she knew. She had studied, she had learned. And she wasn't liking what her thoughts were telling her – not one bit.

Emiya was there as one of three things; as a hunter, as a disruptor… or as bait.

And if she was right about which one of the three…

"Akeno," she murmured, "I think we need to keep a closer eye on Church activity from here on out."

"Yes, Buchōu. I'll let the others know."

– things could get ugly fast.

Despite herself, she wondered – what was Emiya doing now, after having seen them both? Was he reporting to his superiors? Was he mulling over his choices?

Was he analysing her as she did him? Planning his next steps? Fearing hers? Contemplating his place in the chessboard?

Whatever it was – She was worryingly sure she wouldn't like it.

"Did you see the Student Council president? She's so –"

"And her sizes –"

When Shirou got back, it was to Issei, Motohama and Matsuda talking women's breasts in excited whispers, each of them standing at a wall near the exit of the auditorium. It seemed as if the ceremony ended just as he'd finished with Gremory and Rias, because people started flocking out almost immediately after he went back, much to his chagrin. It was unfortunate timing, to say the least.

The mood whiplash would've killed him right then and there if he wasn't duty-bound to kill them first.

As it was, the corner of his eyes twitched; using all of his stealth training, the red-and-white haired boy sneaked slowly behind his three friends – and, with his friendliest voice;

"Her what?"

It was always a pleasure to see them jump in fear at the sound of his voice. A guilty pleasure, maybe, but a sardonic side of his personality took no small amount of joy from correcting them. It was for their own good; they needed to be set straight so they'd not end up as rejects — or worse, like Shinji.

… His head hurt as the thought came to him. It had been happening more frequently, now. These… flashes. Echoes. This time, images of a blue-haired boy, carried by waves of regret and rage alike.

But now wasn't the time to be nostalgic. He kept his smile serene and threatening as the trio turned to look at him, eyes wide. Ise spluttered, trying rapidly to find an excuse to disguise his words as — but then sighed, shaking his head.

"You… have the worst timing, dude." The boy murmured, raising his hands. "Alright, alright. I'll be good."

Kōsetsu turned his eyes to Matsuda and Motohama — and heard them both gulp audibly, nodding rapidly at the look on his eyes.

"M-me, too!"

"Yeah, we'll behave!"

It will have to do for now.

"Good." He only wanted what's best for them, after all. "I will keep an eye on you."

Taking a moment to pause, the youth looked around. Hordes of students now conversed between themselves, lugging bags around or such. They had, if he wasn't mistaken, been given close to an hour to get to know the school before they'd be expected to attend their first classes — though most were being taken along by older students, unsurprisingly. He and Issei had both made note of their schedules, but they'd still have to locate the appropriate classroom by some means.

The rumbling of excited teenagers filled the space to the brim. The lighting was warmer, and shadows cast seemed longer despite it only being morning — not a single face in sight appeared sleepy or uninterested. By and large, this was an exciting day for all of them, he supposed.

Looking back to Ise, he thought to ask a relevant question. He moved to do so — absent-mindedly noticing the boy and his two friends staring with wide eyes at something behind him for whatever reason. Likely saw some pretty girl or something. For now, he ignored.

"So, what did I miss?" A pause. "I heard the part about our responsibilities, but not what came after."

"What you missed," came someone's voice from right behind him, "was my explanation of the grading and testing system here at Kuoh, as well as some other norms you would do well to remember."

… Oh, no.

He turned around — and his eyes widened as he did.

Shitori Sona stood right behind him, because of course she did. Her gaze were remarkably sharp, and her posture was just as rigid as he had noticed earlier. From this close, he could notice things he hadn't noticed about her from a distance — such as her eyes, which seemed a purple of sorts, as well as the hair clip she wore on one side of her hair. She had her arms crossed over her chest and wore glasses that emphasised her general look.

For some reason, the first word he thought of when he saw her was Issei — but she had absolutely no connection to Hyōdō he could think of, aside from the boy's attempted verbal perving on her. He decided to think about that later. Now, he had to worry about himself.

Sona Shitori looked… he wouldn't say angry, but disapproving. For some reason, disapproving females registered clearly as danger in his brain.

"Ah," his response came out, a tad sheepish. "My apologies for leaving without hearing you to the end, Shitori-senpai. I needed to use the restroom — I came back as quickly as I could, but it appears I was too late."

She sighed — and he noticed her posture easing up slightly, losing some of its edge. She still looked mildly disapproving.

"I understand," she responded. "But, in the future, I would recommend using the restroom before important events, to avoid situations such as these."

… He didn't think that was how that worked, but alright.

He smiled anyway.

"I'll definitely try." A pause. "Ah — I'm Kōsetsu Shirou. This here is Hyōdō Issei, my friend; those two beside him are Motohama and Matsuda."

It was comically amusing to him to see the three tense up like actual metal planks once he introduced them to a girl. He may have to look into getting Samiya's help with his attempts to fix the idiots —

— It occurred to him then that they'd perv on his sister. Shirou immediately changed his mind. No. Absolutely not. Not in a million years.

… They hadn't done it yet, but he already felt the strange urge to fight them.

"N-N-Nice to meet you!" Ise exclaimed. Well, shouted, really. "I'm Hyodo Issei!"

"So I've heard," Sona commented coyly, looking at Issei for a moment, then brought her eyes back to Kōsetsu himself. Her black locks framed her eyes in a way that made them look measuring. "Say — Kōsetsu-san. You would not be the one I heard skipped a year, would you?"

"Ah —" He rubbed at the back of his head. Right, that. It had been so long since anyone brought it up that he almost forgot about it himself. "—Yeah, that was me. I'm no genius, though."

"It's my understanding that this sort of thing doesn't usually happen in Japan, so I was pretty surprised to hear about it. The principal told me to keep an eye out for you — you'll be the youngest student in your year, after all."

Shirou smiled again at her, this time apologetically.

"I'm sorry for the trouble. I'll be fine, don't worry."

At this, the brunette with the striking eyes shook her head slowly, firmly.

"It is no problem. Part of my duties as President of the Student Council is to deal with outlier cases such as your own — and to help wherever possible." She paused. "Would you mind accompanying me to the Student Council room, Kōsetsu-san?"

… He didn't feel like he could say no. Looking over his shoulder to smile apologetically at Ise and his two stooges, who now stared at him with genuine betrayal in their eyes for whatever reason, he shook his head.

"I wouldn't mind at all. Let's go."

They cruised the hallways with remarkable efficiency. Despite her firmness, Shitori Sona walked quickly — and she clearly knew the school like the back of her hand. As she walked, she sometimes said things to people as they passed; he supposed she had many duties as president of the Student Council. Shirou himself remained silent, analysing her despite himself.

It didn't take long for them to get there, though.

The girl beckoned him in after opening the door, ensuring he stepped in before she did — then closing the door behind him. It was a remarkably well-organised place, with tables scattered about and papers neatly stacked all over.

There were boxes and lockers to store things in, as well as a list of goals stuck to a wall on the opposite wall to the door. The room had the same smell of sulphur that the rest of the school seemed to have, only stronger — however, it was masked by the significantly more overwhelming scent of some sort of fragrance.

It was empty, though. The students of the Student Council were likely busy during the first day of school — it was a wonder Shitori even had the time to talk to him, much less take a break from her undoubtedly many duties to bring him here. He tried to keep an open mind as the girl walked up to one of the tables and picked up a sheet of paper. One of many, each with a picture of a different student.

"Right. Here it is." A pause. "The letter of recommendation we got for you. I got a copy from the School Board — it mainly has comments on your good behaviour and habits from your past teachers and principal."

He wasn't sure she was supposed to have that, but he also didn't really mind either way. She was clearly getting at something — so he mentioned for the girl to move on, gazing at her idly with twin eyes of gold.

She did, of course.

"An interesting recurrent comment is that you were often seen fixing appliances when requested — is that right?"

"Ah," Kōsetsu smiled. He supposed she did have to know that. Perhaps she was worried he'd overstep and attempt to do the same here? "Yeah. I'm good with fixing things, and we didn't always have the budget to hire professionals for everything, so I fixed them myself, at least until they managed to hire a professional."

Shitori nodded. She placed the paper back on the desk, then looked back to him— analysing him for a few moments. There was a glimpse there, he thought, of something sharper than just a strict President — but it was gone before he could be sure he saw it at all, replaced with a somewhat hopeful gaze.

"Yes. Well…" a pause. She pursed her lips. "It is a bit nonstandard to ask such a thing, but we sometimes have the same issue — less a question of budget, more a question of bureaucracy. We have to go through the proper channels to apply for fixing certain things, and that takes time. I was hoping you would not mind doing the same for us as you did for your previous schools — I will speak to the principal to consider it an extracurricular activity when applicable, of course."

The red-haired youth smiled idly at that, shaking his head once again. Rosy lips on pale skin curled to form an all-too-familiar smile, like putting on an old and comfortable mask.

"Sure," he said. "I don't mind."

And the girl smiled back at him — still strict, but with clear relief. It was the most relaxed, human expression he'd seen from her yet; softer eyes, curled lips, a tilted head; her short hair framing her just a little bit less, curling and moving as she did, even if just slightly Her eyes seemed a shade or two lighter like that. It suited Shitori, he thought.

"I'm glad," she murmured. "Thank you."

He should be thanking her. He was always at his happiest when helping others.

… Hopefully this time they wouldn't call him a brownie.

Hi! This is Lily.

This was supposed to be a Christmas present.

I… cannot be trusted with time. There will be another chapter published the day after this one. Mild internet issues.

This chapter was hard.

So, yeah. Shiro's starting to get his memories back. That's bound to be a problem Rias! Sona! Akeno! Much more to come! So much more! The cast size just quadrupled. Like, holy hells.

See you in a smidge.