Chapter 4

Listen, I'm sorry for taking so long, I have no excuse, so I'll give a reason. I got distracted, lost interest and eventually forgot. In fact, if you want to thank someone, thank Crystal Do2, who sent me a DM to ask about this very story. So I hope it's worth the wait.

They must've made a strange sight, were there anyone to watch the group of four walk down the road. Two students from Homurahara out at nearly 3 in the morning was odd enough on its own, the tall white haired man and slightly shorter woman with long blonde hair merely cemented the strangeness. The trip itself was fairly quiet, Tohsaka Rin's mind was reeling with a thousand possibilities and plans, each wrapping around two others, before all three were dismissed by further, almost frantic leaps of logic.

The unnamed Archer was similarly silent, debating with himself; he easily remembered his time in Camelot, and his defeat, yet as he stared over at the redhead teen leading from the front, he could only seem to see the young, ignorant fool driven by a deadman's impossible dream. Archer's eyes hardened and his mouth thinned into a line, Perhaps his plan wasn't as changed as he first thought.

Oblivious to his alternate self's worries, Emiya Shirou swept his gleaming eyes over every nook, cranny and shadow. He hadn't seen Illya on his way home like he did the first time. His heart clenched painfully as he thought of his poor sister. Nobody deserved her death… Except maybe Morgan,

But that didn't matter, not now. All that mattered was finding her, helping her. All he cared about was saving her.

Suddenly, he stopped, a flash of white, gleaming in the pale yellowish light of the streetamp caught his eye for the smallest moment. In the space between heartbeats, Artoria was there, next to him.

"An Enemy?" she asked with a low voice and stony expression.

"Not sure." Came the equally curt reply, "Hopefully not."

Behind them, Archer was similarly casting his eyes about, trying to catch sight of whatever caused his younger self's caution. His own master was a bit slower on the uptake, noticing after a moment that nobody else was moving.

"What is it?" she asked, the three around her wincing in unison at how loud her voice was. "Is something out there? An enemy Master?" she slipped her hand into her pockets and palmed a pair of large, expensive jewels.

"We don't know" came the authoritative voice of Artoria, her husband(!) seemingly having a staring contest with an empty alleyway.

"No matter who it is, it seems they aren't making a move just yet. Let's go." With that, Shirou continued down the road until he suddenly stopped, cupped his hand and with a single motion, spun on his heel, threw something towards the alleyway, and then continued on down the road.

"A note," he said, preempting Rin's question. "If it's who I hope it is, we'll need to talk to her."

"Her?" came Tohsaka's absentmindedly asked question. She was the second Owner of Fuyuki city, she had an obligation to know about people of note in her city.

"Illya, Illyasviel Von Einzbern" his words brought her out of her mental scrolling. "My father, Kiritsugu's, daughter." Rin gasped softly at his voice, leaden as it was with pain and regret. "After the last Grail War, they were spererated by the Einzberns. Told her Dad abandoned her." he scowled as he went over the knowledge he… somehow knew. In the back of his mind, he felt like he should remember a conversation, he knew he had one, but couldn't remember who it was with.

"So… Why would she be here? Isn't he…?" Rin trailed off, unsure of how the relationship between father and son went, and not wanting to offend someone who had a somewhat frighteningly good chance of being much stronger than her.

"Dead? Yeah." came the redhead's response, almost flippant in how casual it was. "It was the Black Mud released by the grail. It poisoned him" He looked around and raised his voice a little "His constant attempts to get into the Einzbern Castle didn't do him any favors." Here, he scowled, grumbling under his breath. "Oh, that reminds me. Please tell me to punch Shinji in the face next time I see him, would you?" he suddenly asked, turning to the Magus behind him "Uh…" She stared at him for a while, confused "O..Kay? But… Why? I get that you, apparently, lived an entire other life waging war and fighting battles, but I didn't think you'd be so quick to violence."

Shirou nodded "It's because I found a bruise on Sakura's hand recently… The morning she came over after spending the night at home." Behind him, Archer scowled as well, hands twitching and grasping at the air for his bow before he fought down the urge. Shinji will come later.

"Couldn't she have hurt her hand some other way? Maybe she fell and hit it on something."

"This is Sakura we're talking about… She doesn't fall like that" came his response, before stopping once again "Anyway, we're here." At his words, Rin stopped and looked past him.

Before them, like the great iron jaws of a beast, sat the fence gate, ajar slightly. Soft light streamed from the stained glass windows onto the ground, small pockets of warmth amid a sea of shadows, churned and swirled by the fears in all four of their minds, and a strange sense of dread that pooled like millstones in their stomachs.

Shirou Emiya closed his eyes and took a deep, bracing breath. Shirou Ashton opened them, eyes almost gleaming honey gold in the half light. Releasing his breath, he opened the gate, and swept his arm towards the church. "After you," he said, glancing first to Artoria, then Rin with a small smile. "One last piece of advice, though" he added, bringing up the rear and closing the gate firmly

"Okay?" Rin tilted her head, as Archer stared

"If he tries anything. Bring this whole place down on top of him. Then burn it. Just to be sure" His words were nearly growled, his tone like iron and eyes like ice. He turned, unaware of Archer's begrudgingly approving look, and pushed open the door.

"Kirei Kotomine." He spoke in a voice Rin assumed was his court voice. "We must speak"

And there, at the other end of the church, lit by the flickering candles and swirling shadows that bounced off the walls and the large image of Christ on the Cross, The Lord's Eyes hidden by shadows, stood the Priest. He turned from the alter, took in the group filing in through the doors, and all he could do was smile.