That might as well happen, he supposed.

The girl - Luviagelita - struck a bit of an imposing figure, frankly. There was just something about her that told him to take care, even if he somehow got the impression she was trustworthy nonetheless. She was less otherworldly, to put it bluntly, than someone like Rias Gremory or Akeno Himejima had been - but that did nothing at all to detract from the fact that she was a very beautiful woman. For a moment, he felt a brief pang of familiarity, despite being so very sure he had never seen her in his life (and with her hair, he was sure he'd remember if he had); it was like a moment of nostalgia had struck him. Even just standing there, Luviagelita reminded him of someone.

That was an odd thought he decided not to pursue for now. [Especially considering he couldn't save that person's sister.]

"A pleasure, miss Edelfeldt;" and here he stopped to look at Samiya, noticing a slightly bemused expression on the brunette's face, but otherwise finding no real concern. He should be fine, then, so long as he was polite. "I hope you've been taking care of my sister. She can be a bit reckless."

-!

Samiya blinked once, then looked at him with a furrowed brow and a scowl, though once again no real anger. She crossed her arms over her chest resolutely, shaking her head at him even as her blonde guildmate (?) covered her mouth with a hand to conceal a giggle.

"That's pretty rich coming from you," his sister replied immediately. There was humour to her anger, thankfully. By the slightly confused look on Luviagelita's face, he guessed she didn't know much about what Samiya was referring to – which, knowing his sister, she probably thought made her comment funnier. She could be a little bit like that sometimes.

Shirou merely smiled a bit helplessly in return, rubbing the back of his head as he did so.

"Right," he commented, cutting off whatever Luvia was going to say. "Either way, I'm sorry I interrupted you two. I know you didn't expect me to come today, nee-san."

Samiya's eyes bore into him with the same perceptiveness she looked at basically anything with, and he didn't quite know what she saw there, but a mild softness bled into her eyes, draining tension from her posture that he hadn't even initially noticed was there. He'd already surmised she had some sort of amicable dynamic with Luvia, but it was clear to him that having him around someone belonging to the Grauzaubeurer put her in a general state of unease.

– It made sense, of course.

Better or worse, Samiya took her duties as a sister seriously. On some level, she wanted to minimise his exposure to people who might want to exploit or hurt him – even though there were times when she simply couldn't, such as with the Devil, Mephisto. More than that, Luviagelita appeared to be… quite well-off, to put it mildly.

As far as Shirou was concerned, magicians differed from most supernatural creatures in that their aptitude for magic wasn't really based on their biology or their bloodline; he wasn't even sure if humans had innate magical reserves to begin with, even if he did. Instead, a magician's power came from their understanding of Magical Circles, and their talent in understanding and decoding the ways Mana interacted with the world.

But he supposed that it wasn't impossible for Magicians to form heritages of power even without a biological factor – that was exactly what many CEOs and other such rich people did. Perhaps it was a human thing…?

There was something to be said, he thought, about human nature picking the parts of other cultures that would benefit it, and adapting it unto itself until it started to make sense. Humans were a resilient people,to the point of standing their ground long into a millenia-old war between peoples far more powerful than them. One couldn't chalk all of that up to goodwill or to Sacred Gears or being defended by the Church. It was human nature to adapt in order to persevere; the very existence of Magicians as a sort of self-contained quasi-faction proved that fact.

"It's okay," his sister replied, calling him over with a hand. "You don't need to apologise, let alone twice. You're not interrupting much - we were just catching up."

"That's right," Luviagelita intercepted the conversation once again. "It is no problem, Shero. You should come join us."

The boy with golden eyes nodded respectfully, even though his eyebrows furrowed at the end. 'Shero'...? That… was certainly not his name. By the bemused look that Samiya sported once again, he thought she expected something like that. Perhaps it was due to her accent…?

Shirou followed the two back into the kitchen, where he found they had brewed some tea to drink and had already drunk half a cup each. He took a seat at the table next to where Samiya sat down, sitting opposite to Luviagelita, and thus facing the blond. Her posture was perfect, though not in the way Sona's or Rias' were. Hers wasn't out of a sense of stern propriety or elegance, but the kind of instinctual perfect manners you'd see from someone with a demandingly high-profile background. Whoever the Edefeldt were, they were probably big enough deals for that to matter.

Which was a bit of a problem. Shirou had never lacked good manners - Anastasia saw to that every day of his life - but he wasn't exactly familiar with how to behave with people of this sort of status. He'd lived in an orphanage all his life. The rich weren't exactly regular visitors.

Thankfully, Luviagelita-san didn't look to be judging either him or Samiya too harshly. That boded well, he was pretty sure.

The moment he was properly sitting, his sister poured him a cup of tea and slid it over to him. By the smell, it was black tea; not his favourite, but he wasn't opposed to it, either. He took a small sip of it, more as a gesture of faith than anything else. He had faith in his sister.

Luviagelita smiled at him, her hands both on her cup of tea. Her gaze was considering as she gave him a lookover, as if mentally comparing him to whatever image she'd had of him previously. Considering she was with the Grauzaubeurer, that wasn't at all unlikely. He'd never had much hope of Mephisto keeping his mouth shut about Shirou, anyway. That she and Samiya seemed to get along with well was good enough for him.

"So, Luviagelita-san…" he began.

But the girl was quick to cut him off, though not at all rudely;

"There's no need to be so formal, Sherou! You may call me Miss Luvia." She spoke. As if that wasn't more formal… still, he supposed he should oblige. "I have known your sister for a very long time, of course. You don't need to be so alarmed, either."

He felt his cheeks flush despite himself, willing his posture to relax a bit - and realising at once he'd been more tense than he had initially realised. Ah – that… was a tad embarrassing. The boy with the red-and-white locks averted his golden eyes from both of the young women who sat with him for a second, much to his sister' silent amusement. But he recomposed himself before anyone could point it out.

"Right," he spoke. "Miss Luvia, then." And here he paused for a second, thinking. "...I didn't expect anyone from the Grauzaubeurer to be in Kuoh at the moment, aside from my sister. Is everything okay?"

To his side, Samiya clicked her tongue softly. The brunette looked as if she would`ve winced in less proper company. He had long since noticed his sister's proficiency in measuring her responses to suit the people around her when he'd seen her around priests and exorcists, but this was another soft reminder that he shouldn't let his guard down just because she and this girl looked like they were friends. That sort of thing wasn't really in his nature, though…

"...Geez, Shirou. Way to cut to the chase, huh?" Samiya murmured.

"I`m sorry…?"

But she shook her head just as Luviagelita waved his apologies away with a gloved hand, sipping from her cup of tea with the other. She appeared thoughtful for a second, placing her cup down only when ready to speak. When she did, she did so with a delicate sort of practised elegance. The girl was very… proper. For lack of a better word, he supposed.

"No need to apologise, Shero. Though it would do you well to remember that a gentleman shouldn't be so brash in his questions." Lesson learned, he supposed… "From what I know, you've been forced to take part in the War, so your concern is understandable. It wouldn't do for a lady to deny you information that could save you, so I do not mind answering… though information does come at a cost."

She was clever.

The small smile she sported was earnest, he thought, and there was genuine fondness in her eyes when she looked at Samiya - but all of that was superseded by her cunning, an eye for details and hidden things. Looking at her confidence, he had no doubt that she was wholeheartedly hoping her answer would help keep him safe. She seemed like a good person in that way.

But that didn't mean she didn't have an angle.

Samiya leaned forward at that, though only slightly. Something in her posture had once again tensed, like she hadn't expected that.

"Luvia…"

The blonde turned her eyes to the dark-haired beauty with whom they sat, something keen in her gaze.

"With his position, is it not better that he knows, Samiya? Don't worry - I do not plan on extorting your baby brother. That wouldn't be very proper, would it?"

"This information you have," he cut in, eyebrows furrowed. "What do you want for it, exactly?"

"It's quite simple, Shero!" A quick reply. "I want to know what you know about the current conflict between the Devils and the Church Faction here in Kuoh. I promise what I have to offer is of equal value, of course."

– Samiya's voice rang in his head, warning him that she couldn't make such promises, couldn't know. He'd learned plenty about keeping his cards to himself from his sister, over the years. Keeping one's cards to oneself was how Magicians survived the Faction War, and how Samiya had survived this long in the Church's grip.

However,

Shirou was an earnest person, when it came down to it. Not dumb, or naive - but earnest. It wasn't in his nature to play cloak-and-dagger when he didn't need to.

Samiya trusted her. That was enough.

"...I guess?" A pause. He parsed over his words in his head before speaking them out loud, carefully considering what he was about to say. Then; "The city of Kuoh is supposedly controlled by the Devil Faction, ruled over by an Overseer I've met. The Church has agents here, and is currently investigating a series of suspicious movements by both the Devil Faction and Rogue Exorcists taking place recently, though I've not seen much of either directly. The Church is interested in luring out and ultimately… destroying the Devils in charge of a specific area here."

None of this was news to Samiya save the tidbit about Rogue Exorcists, which he knew for a fact she would register and try to look into. But it was clear by Luvia's expression that most of it was news to her, even if she'd suspected some of it. There was a furrow to her brow that told Kosetsu that such wasn't a good thing, but he couldn't quite be sure.

– He carefully kept his breath steady. Breathed in. Held. Breathed out.

"I see," she finally spoke, considering the information he'd given her. She tilted her head slightly to the side, making her blond curls fall slightly with the movement. "That… is concerning. Thank you for being so open, Sherou."

A pause. But she quickly began to speak once more;

"My… group has noticed strange movements afoot here, too. I don't mean just Grauzaubeurer, though Mephisto is the main reason I am here. We have.. some ties to both the Devil Faction and the Grigori - the Fallen Angel Faction. But through other means, I learned of particularly aggressive movement from registered Church Exorcists here. Which is… unusual."

"It is?" He questioned.

The girl nodded.

"Quite. While the three factions are definitely at war, it is not as if overt actions of open hostility are commonplace at this time. It's a question of logistics. The Great War took a great toll on all three factions involved, and many of the losses simply couldn't be replenished, no matter how much time passed. There have been intermittent periods of increased or decreased hostility, and conflicts have always risen where the factions crossed, but the truth of the matter is that neither faction is interested in anything that might risk an outright Battle between the factions – they simply can't afford one."

As she spoke, her voice grew more… confident, he supposed. But she didn't stop, of course.

"Even the current status of intermittent brief conflicts has taken a massive toll; this War has been going on for millennia. The last period of increased hostility happened when the Devil Faction disrupted the balance of power with the invention of the Evil Piece System, but even then, I can't recall such a targeted attack at a location having happened for a great while. Certainly not in my lifetime." A pause. "There have always been more aggressive sub-factions within the Three - what we call Zealot groups - but they are usually dealt with by the leadership before great damage can be caused. The Church is famous for having the most active Zealot groups, since their members are usually motivated by faith, but they are also the likeliest to stop before risking damage to normal human's lives, so it tends to balance things out historically. Which is why it is strange to see aggressive Exorcist activity targeted so sharply in a single location; conquering towns isn't unheard of, and Overseers are targeted pretty frequently, but this has gone beyond just an Assassination. And when you combine that with rumours of suspicious Grigori activity here, too…" She trailed off.

"Suspicious Grigori activity?" Samiya questioned, leaning forward. Her eyes were sharp, posture tense, almost dangerous. "You didn't tell me that. Neither did Lavinia or Mephisto."

"Well, of course not, Miss Samiya!" The sudden inclusion of 'miss' there was not lost on him, though he did not bring attention to it, too enraptured by the information being freely shared. "Both of them trust you, but ultimately agreed it was better to keep any information regarding suspicious Church activity from the only one of us that the Church can extract information from. Not that you would tell them, of course… but we both know they have their methods of persuasion."

Samiya gulped… but nodded, a small grimace on her face. Shirou did not like whatever it was Luviagelita was implying, but he just did not know enough about the situation to make any comments. Samiya was secretive at the best of times.

"Um, Miss Luvia…?" He began.

At once, all eyes were on him.

"Yes, Sherou?"

"Was that what you wanted to tell me? That there'd been suspicious activity here from the Fallen Angels, too?"

"Almost." She sighed. "To put it bluntly – what you referred to as Stray Exorcist activity might not be stray at all. My family managed to contact a… whistleblower, in a nearby town. Not quite related to this specific instance, but… He expressed doubt as to the origins and consequences of a few orders he had received."

Shirou frowned.

"The origins of -"

But the blonde Magician wasn't done.

"We found him dead the next day. Stray Devil." She took a sip from her tea. "Supposedly, that is."

Well.

That complicated things.


The rest of the day went fine, believe it or not. The next school day was fine as well.

Which was weird. There's always this sort of… social shock, he supposed, to having a good day after a particularly concerning experience. Things don't click as real the way they should, like reality is a step off-course. He went through the day almost on auto-pilot, frankly.

Luvia-san was staying in Kuoh for a few weeks, partly to keep an eye on Samiya at Mephisto's request, partly because she was clearly concerned about the girl herself, and partly to 'preserve the Grauzaubeurer's interests' and investigate what she could. He found the girl surprisingly good company, though something about her was so nostalgic it hurt. She wasn't quite familiar to him, but something about her mannerisms was, and that was enough to trigger the old static.

For now, she was staying at Samiya's place – a fact she announced to both of them at once. This meant Shirou couldn't really sleep there all that often anymore, at least until she relocated. However, that wouldn't take long; anyone staying at Samiya's would undoubtedly be looked into by the Church, and while the blonde was sure she could avoid detection for a few weeks or months, she agreed that these living conditions weren't suited to her needs. She said that as if it was a matter of safety, but Shirou was fairly sure she was just calling Samiya poor - much to his sister's annoyance.

She had also shared a theory with them - that whatever it was that was in the works was only in its beginning stages, and that it was likely to be beyond their ability to interfere. It was even possible, if not outright likely, that there were many different threads taking place at once. She personally did not think the Grigori were involved at all in the situation, beyond maybe relocating a few resources, and suggested they keep an eye on Church offensives instead. Which was fair – but perhaps a bit biased.

Honestly, talking things out loud with his sister and her friend helped Shirou feel a bit better.

He wasn't exactly a sharer. His immediate instinct was usually to solve whatever problems arose with his own hands if at all possible. He liked to think that this was called responsibility, but Samiya tended to call it a hero complex. Nonetheless, that was just how it was.

Even still - it was comforting to have someone to help him work through his tempestuous thoughts.

The boy had always known things would get more complicated when his mission began officially, but he'd been perhaps a bit unprepared for the scope of it all. Watching Samiya and Luvia discuss things so bluntly and impersonally helped him gain a new perspective on the situation, which… helped.

Training with Anastasia had been normal, and the woman agreed to let him use the dojo with Issei after some thought – praising him for his kindness in helping his friend out. Of course, she also warned him away from doing anything that might incriminate himself, for the lack of a better term, but Shirou had always known that.

At the end of the day, the static had broken out.

But nothing would help as much as what came next.

– The dojo was quiet.

The lighting was proper, the tatami mats were in place, and the equipment had been carefully laid out for them, instead of him having to go to the lockers to get it.

Undoubtedly the work of Anastasia, who always wanted to encourage this sort of Christian good deed such as helping without expecting anything in return. It was one thing he could never find any fault in, which brought her no small amount of pride.

He liked that feeling. Having someone be proud of him for his ideals.

… But it wasn't quite true that he wasn't expecting anything at all in return. After all…

"Damn," Issei whistled as he walked in with Shirou, looking around. The light of the setting sun filtered into the place, casting dark, dramatic shadows across the floor. "This is some real anime spot to train, dude. Where's, like, everyone? Don't tell me this is an 'I Work Alone' thing, you edgelord."

…. There was always the wonderful feeling of catharsis that he was about to experience.

The boy shook his head, pointing to the equipment near the wall.

"There`s protective gear over there – go put it on in the lockers, then come back here."

The boy with the spiky auburn hair paused, lookin at him with a confused expression in his expressive face. He leaned back a bit.

"Eh? Shouldn't you put it on, too?"

Shirou smiled.

"Don't worry about it."

A few minutes later, Issei was clad in full Kendo gear, complete with helmet and Shinai, while Shirou himself wore only the Gi usually worn underneath the protective armour and a shinai of his own. They both stood on the dojo, about 35 feet away from each other - with Issei standing in a bastardised version of the basic stance Shirou had quickly taught him, Shinai held in front of his face with two hands.

It was clear the boy had never really held a sword that wasn't made out of plastic, and Issei obviously felt a little self-conscious about it. It was kind of endearing, in the way Issei sometimes was. The boy was a good friend, lecherous tendencies aside.

"...Are you really not gonna wear any armor?" He grumbled. "Arrogant bastard…"

Shirou chuckled good-naturedly. He couldn't just say 'I won't need it against you'; that would be true, but it would also kind of prove Issei's point. The truth of the matter was that Shirou merely moved better without anything too restricting. But thankfully, he'd thought of another valid explanation already.

"The armor and helmet are pretty obscuring. We don't have the time for me to teach you much of the theory or beat the katas into you through repetition, so we need to play monkey-see, monkey-do. You need to be able to see my movements clearly."

The other boy blinked, pausing for a second.

"...I guess that makes sense. Still, though… Are you gonna be okay, dude? I really don't wanna, like, hurt you. Even if you're a bit of an ass sometimes."

"Don't worry. Worst case scenario, you'll bruise me a bit. I've done this for years; I can handle a bruise or too." Not that Issei would get anywhere near that far. Shirou continued to smile even as he assumed a picture-perfect starting stance, blade held in the position Issei was copying poorly. "Now, watch how I stand. Come at me – and try to pay attention to how I block."

A moment of tension. Then –

Issei ran forward, raising his sword over his head and striking down with all of his might. It was a fast, hard blow – likely meant to teach him a lesson without hurting him too badly so he'd put on actual armour. He knew Issei was the sort of person to disguise his concern with aggression. In either way, to anyone else, that attack might have seemed decent.

It might as well have been in slow-motion for him.

Training like this brought echoes of lessons he'd had, and not just the ones he'd had from Anastasia. Faint whispers and phantoms that coalesced, sometimes, into images or movements in the edges of his vision, memories of aches he didn't think he'd ever had. Like every other phantom that haunted him, he'd gotten used to it – but these phantoms he relished, welcomed into himself, let nudge him when his own training wouldn't.

Shift your feet, widen your stance. Block and strike with your hips and shoulders. Keep a strong grip, keep your eyes keen.

He raised his shinai to strike at Issei's incoming blade from the side, whacking it at the same speed Issei had used and causing it to miss him entirely, veering to the right as the Hyodo lost his balance. Then, with a movement of only his wrists, he adjusted the blade that had blocked the attack over Issei's head –

And struck down, hard.

Slam!

The sound of the hard impact reverberated throughout the room as Issei fell to his knees from the loss of balance and sudden impact. He didn't even have time to process much; they'd have to work on that. Neither Anastasia nor [that woman] had ever gone easy on him, when training. There was something, he thought, too ensuring your apprentice was used to fights as they were, fast and harsh and often painful. There was also something about beating up his best friend for being a pervert, but he didn't dare say that aloud.

"Fuck-! Dude, what the shit?" Issei grumbled on the floor, scowling beneath the mask he wore. Shirou could tell. "Ouch - Are you crazy?"

Shirou smiled at the sight.

"That's why you wear the helmet." He commented. "Complacency is the enemy. Now, get up. Can you tell me what you got wrong?"

Issei got to his feet, knees trembling a bit.

"Yeah," he grumbled. "I said 'yes' to this stupid idea."

"Dumbass." He replied, still feeling rather good-humoured. "When engaging in any sword fight, you have to try and minimise how exposed you are. Raising your sword like that would make for a powerful blow, but it also made it impossible for you to block me."

To demonstrate, he raised his blade high above his head, just as Issei had - then swung down at nothing in slow motion, letting the brown-haired boy watch him as he did. For all his grumbling, Issei's eyes were rather attentive; fitting for his personality that he'd find something like sword-fighting 'cool' enough to merit his undivided attention.

"...Yeah, I see your point." The boy murmured, sighing. "Damn. How do I even fix that, though?"

"It's… not easy, but simple. Come here and I'll show you a few stances - nothing too complex. Just something for you to memorise…"

Ah -

This… was also pretty nostalgic, wasn't it?

Shirou should be getting pretty tired of that feeling, but he never really did. Sometimes it was sad, or lonely, or - any other number of things. He knew who he was. He was beginning to know who he had been, too. As for the person he was supposed to be… well.

It was just funny, being on this side of the teaching.

He remembered being just as clueless as Issei was right now, getting wailed on with a scowl and indignation on his face. Not by Anastasia, though - in a scene that had taken place in another life, rather. There was a woman with short brown hair and this wild, fun smile on her face, eyes as bright as the sun itself, and he remembered that he both loved her to death and found her to be the most annoying person on the planet – honestly, which one of them was supposed to be the youngest again?

But she was a beast with that shinai of her. No matter how much he'd tried back then, she'd effortlessly parried him and countered with savage strikes – all while cheering, "Hah! Got you again~" and things of the sort. When she was feeling particularly annoying, she'd even demand he make her more food as a celebration or other stupid things like that.

How long had it taken him to match her skill? Five years? Had he ever, really?

How many times had she whacked his shinai out with a sideways strike, just like how he'd done to Issei as he charged him wildly yet again? How many times had he tried to run around her and strike at her blind spot, just as Issei tried in the aftermath of his parry? How many times had that tiger of a woman responded with a swift strike to the wrists, like he did to Hyoudou in an instant?

Honestly… He hoped he didn't grow up to be like her.

If he had to take after one of his elder sisters, he'd rather it be Samiya - who knew how disappointed dad would be if he started lazing around in the houses of people 10 years his junior and asking for food? And that's to say nothing of Sakura. Honestly, he could already imagine the look on her face –

Red.

Without thinking, his eyes blanked. In an instant, he'd tripped Issei as he'd rushed at him, and pointed the sword down at his neck as the boy fell to the floor without form. He moved without thinking. He moved without breathing.

Issei stared up at him once again. His eyes weren't as mirthful, this time. They were just… confused. Confused, and a little scared.

Shirou shook himself out of his revelry. Again. It had happened again, and more clearly this time. What was it with him…?

"...Shirou?" Issei called out. Even though that fall had to have stung, he didn't look angry. He looked worried.

The red-haired boy with the golden eyes smiled, more to pacify himself than anything. He tried his hardest to school his features into his usual, easy-going smile. It wouldn't work; Issei had already noticed something off with him. But he could still pretend. (Was that how she'd felt around him, before the end?)

"Sorry, that was foul. Your stance was unsteady, though. Don't rush in so thoughtlessly."

He was getting pretty good at pretending, too.


Lily here. Not much to say, forgot to post on time. RIP. Another one incoming.

You people really need to stop assuming I'm dead. I'm not! Nor is the story!AAAA

Some clever commenters about. Some unhappy with my choice. Or with my lack of timing (they're right. I'm so sorry.) S'expected. Hope ya stick about.

Cya shortly!