(A/N) Hey everyone! If you like this fic, you're in luck. The Discord server has voted Fear the Superhero to be my focus story! That means more frequent updates. Yay!

If you prefer my other stories, however, there's no need to worry. Me focusing on this one does not mean that I'm going to neglect the others. The update schedule from now on is gonna look something like: FtS, Story1, FtS, Story2, FtS, Story4, etc.. Everything else is the same (more or less).

Time to announce the winner of the first Discord Contest! Participants were asked to come up with a bad summary or trashy light novel title for any of my stories. There is one winner for each fic!

"Like father like son, except the son stuck his dick in crazy"

Thanks for reading! Feel free to check out the chapter illustration on Spacebattles or Questionable Questing!

Thanks to ajpa for beta reading!

X

"Hello!" The receptionist greeted the ikemen standing in front of her desk with a smile so tightly drawn that her eyes were almost squinted shut. "Welcome to Mid Bio Informatics' Head Office. Do you have an appointment?"

The tall, white-haired man shook his head.

"Not exactly...I'm here to pick up someone," he answered with an apologetic smile. He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out an almost blank piece of paper with six digits scribbled onto it. "Could you let her know that I'm here? She works in this department, I believe."

"Oh? A girlfriend?" was the playful comment that she committed to outwardly as she took the paper without really paying it any mind.

Inwardly, she groaned.

The receptionist instinctively stalled with a flowery remark so that she wouldn't have to tell the good-looking guy to buzz off. Where did he think he was, exactly? She couldn't just bother a department at MBI's headquarters and tell them that some random guy was–

Her eye caught sight of the number held loosely in her hand. The woman's thoughts came to a screeching halt.

That wasn't a normal extension number. It was a direct line to the Disciplinary Squad.

The handsome man stared at her innocently with a raised eyebrow.

She gulped.

"E-excuse me, Sir. May I have your name?"

"Emiya Shirou. Is there a problem?"

With a shaky intake of breath, she followed up with another question.

"And who might you be looking for?"

He scratched his cheek in a fashion that was much too relaxed for someone who had any form of business with the Disciplinary Squad, unsolicited or not. Did he even know who he was asking her to call?

Ah. If it were Natsuo-san, maybe it wouldn't be that bad. Those other two, Benitsubasa and Haihane haven't been around for a while, so–

"Karasuba. That's the right number, right? I know that she can be a little scatterbrained at times." He finished the sentence with another apologetic smile.

…She was going to die, wasn't she?

The woman picked up the company telephone to her left and held it in a vice grip, the plastic letting out a small groan under the pressure.

Should she? She could just tell this pretty boy to get lost. Who would stop her? Her shift was over in less than an hour anyway. It could be the next guy's problem.

…On the other hand, what if this guy was a lot sketchier than he looked? If he did have some sort of business with Karasuba, then she was toast if she tried to purposely delay him. And he did have the Disciplinary Squad's direct line too.

With one last despaired gulp, she resigned herself and gathered what resolve she could and dialled the number.

The device didn't even get through the first ring before the phone was yanked from her hand.

"Wha–"

"I'll take it from here," announced a voice over her shoulder. She slowly turned her head.

"Ta–"

"Miss Takami," the good-looking man spoke before she could in a neutral tone, neither warm nor cold. His greeting was cut short, however, by MBI's head researcher herself. When did she get here anyway?

"Follow me," she said to him, then turned around, making her way towards the closest elevator.

The man blinked rapidly.

"Oh. But I'm waiting for–"

"I'm taking you to her. Hurry up."

"Right."

They both disappeared behind a set of closing mechanical doors shortly after.

As they both disappeared through the doors behind her, she let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding in, gradually relaxing from her statue-like pose before collapsing into her chair. Somehow, she hadn't even realized that she had stood up from it.

It's none of my business now.

Maybe the pay wasn't worth it. The supermarket a few blocks down was hiring, right?

X

"You're in a bad mood."

Takami stopped mid-march and whipped her head back to give Emiya Shirou an incredulous glare.

"Of course I'm in a bad mood. My son almost died yesterday."

He actually seemed surprised.

"That boy? I didn't know that he was your son."

They exchanged blank looks. Neither blinked.

Takami didn't seem intent on delving any deeper down that conversational path. She about-faced and resumed her brisk pace. On the higher, more private floors, the only sounds that bounced off the walls of MBI's reinforced metal corridors were the muted taps of two pairs of shoes.

Emiya was the first to disturb the silence.

"…You're the one who said that you didn't want to see me, right? What's this about?"

She didn't stop moving this time. Her answer was immediate.

"I want to know why."

"Why...?" he trailed off, waiting for clarification.

"Why you didn't kill him."

"…I wonder."

They stopped in front of a nondescript doorway. Takami's fingertips brushed against the handle.

"Do not think for a second that I'll be satisfied with that, you piece of shit."

Her insults didn't phase him in the slightest.

"Sorry," he apologized. "We can talk about this later, can't we? Karasuba and I–"

"Keep your tits on. I know where the two of you are heading. Karasuba told me."

The calmness of her tone belied the anger sizzling within her.

"We can talk about this later," he said. It was as though murder wasn't anything more than an afterthought to him. As far as Takami was concerned, it wasn't even about him being a "bad person" anymore.

Truly, he was a sick man. Unfortunately, she was past caring about figuring out how fucked up he really was.

"She did?" he asked with a wide-eyed look that absolutely did not fit the face of someone who did the things that he had done. There was no anger, no vindictiveness, no sense of betrayal, nothing. Exasperation? Perplexity? Perhaps, but it just wasn't right.

Takami had enough of this back and forth. She was going to say what needed to be said, and then she was going to leave him and Number Four to their schemes.

"You're going to pay Number Two a visit. She's a brain-type Sekirei, and you think her help will be enough to give you an edge over the competition."

"I don't–"

"But more importantly, she is a Sekirei winged by Sahashi Minato. Oh! Don't think that you'll be able to find him right now, though. He and the others are currently recovering in a private facility."

Emiya made a pathetic face.

"Is that really something that you should be telling me? After yesterday–"

She cut him off once more.

"I can't threaten you without telling you at least this much, and it's not like you wouldn't have found out in a bit anyway."

His back straightened. She continued.

"Minaka seems to think that it's fine to let you keep wandering as you are. Whatever. What I won't let you do is get that close to my son again. If you and Karasuba have a certain way of dealing with other Sekirei as participants of the Sekirei Plan, then as an employee of this company it's not my place to intervene no matter how shitty those ways are. But with that said…"

She grabbed the doorknob with her whole hand. The metal creaked under her grip.

If looks could kill, the snarl on her face would have put him six feet under in an instant.

"I will make it personal if I have to. Don't underestimate MBI, and don't underestimate me."

Without breaking eye contact, she threw the door open and stepped out of his way.

The bastard smiled.

"Thanks for showing me the way, Takami-san."

With a soft click, both he and the insides of the room that she had led him into disappeared from sight.

Her shoulders rose and dropped a second later. She closed her eyes.

Disingenuous warnings aside, she needed Emiya Shirou out of the picture as soon as possible. If that meant losing their supposed greatest asset in Karasuba as a result, then she would eat that consequence with pleasure.

X

Natsuo Ichinomi was having quite the eventful day.

"Ahhn… Natsuo … It hurts…"

"Would you be– ouch!"

Or rather, he was having an eventful couple of days. No large part of him had anticipated Benitsubasa and Haihane being so severely injured during one of their escapades.

"Serves you right!"

"Shut up."

From what the dispatched operators had told him, the damage was done by a fair number of Sekirei and their Ashikabi who had teamed up in an attempt to escape the city. They weren't successful, thankfully.

"You shut up!"

"Tche."

Hm… upon further reflection, maybe today was a little more eventful than the day before after all. He was rarely asked by the top brass to spend much time in the Disciplinary Squad's office despite his relatively newfound position.

"You're just mad that Natsuo is giving me more attention right now!"

"What? Are you flat-chested and delusional? Bad combo."

But perhaps the most peculiar thing of all…

"Could both of you be quiet for a moment?"

…Was the mood of MBI's dog.

He had only met her a handful of times –back when it was understood that he was to be her Ashikabi– but at the time, he had been fairly certain that he had a good read on her.

A miserable woman. Someone who resented this world, and didn't have a care for anything it had left to offer her. Her reaction to the hypothetical combustion of humanity in its entirety could be summarized as something along the lines of "Good riddance."

A reasonable enough individual with whom he had a fair bit in common. He liked her, in short.

But she was different now.

The beautiful smile that he had known her for had been replaced with something drab. There was none of the anger. None of the bitterness. None of the hatred. None of the spite. None of the anguish. None of the peace. None of the assuredness.

She wore a pout that was just as lost as it was free; it was as if she didn't know what face to make. Joy, completeness, satisfaction, hope, curiosity: all such vibrant and wonderful emotions radiated from her body.

How disappointing.

"I'm surprised you're still here," he spoke, addressing the grey-haired Sekirei. "You have a date with your Ashikabi today, don't you?"

He was a little curious about the man, admittedly: someone capable of ruining the Black Sekirei so thoroughly must be a character indeed.

"That's right." She squinted, giving her the look of a relaxed, sunbathing housecat. "It's strange, though. I thought he would have been here by now since Takami went to get him."

Benitsubasa and Haihane took a break from their squabbling.

"Say, what's he like anyway? Your Ashikabi, I mean." asked the petite pink-haired girl.

"He must be a real hard-ass," mused the bandage-covered one.

Karasuba gave them a kind smile.

"Not at all. He's very sweet."

While the other two seemed surprised, Natsuo knew that didn't mean much coming from her.

"He's a very good cook, quite polite– oh! He's good with children as well."

…Or perhaps he was just as confused as they were.

The door creaked.

All four of them turned their heads to the entranceway. A well-dressed man who Natsuo didn't recognize shuffled his way into the room nervously.

"Sorry," the man apologized for whatever reason. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

…Natsuo's first impression of the newcomer was that he fit the common mould of a pretty boy with the spine of an amoeba.

…This wasn't Karasuba's Ashikabi, was he?

It didn't make any sense at all.

He'd heard the rumours that Karasuba had reacted; that she had been winged. That she had actually found someone with whom she could form a genuine bond. He didn't believe it, of course, but if it were true, then surely the bond would be with someone just as deranged as Karasuba herself.

If not a monster, then at least a person as disenchanted with the world as she was. Even Natsuo Ichinomi couldn't fit that bill, and he was as disenchanted as they came.

Natsuo didn't need more than an instant to know that the newcomer was none of those things.

And yet–

"Hello. You three are part of the Disciplinary Squad, right? It's a pleasure to meet you all. My name is Emiya Shirou."

The shorter man plastered a smile to his face despite the blank looks of his Sekirei behind him.

"Natsuo Ichinomi. Likewise."

They shook hands. The white-haired man had a surprisingly strong grip.

"Ashikabi-kun, we need to get going."

Karasuba's words had the man in question break the handshake. He stepped away and bowed.

"Well then. Please excuse us."

Just like that, Natsuo and his two Sekirei were the only ones left in the room.

"…You know," started Haihane, "I never thought that I'd see that woman so excited to go on a date."

Benitsubasa huffed and crossed her arms.

"She's a total weirdo. Stop trying to figure her out."

Not that long ago, Natsuo would have interjected saying that they had it all wrong; that there wasn't any chance of the Black Sekirei wasting her time on something as meaningless as a "date". There wouldn't be any point, right? Forget "appealing": the very thought would be flat-out insulting to someone of Karasuba's character.

But now, he really didn't know what to think.

Unfortunately for him, his thoughts and contemplations were interrupted by the door opening a second time.

X

Kazehana hummed to herself happily as she lazed about on the floor around Miya's chabudai with Uzume. The two girls tried to suppress their drunken giggles, pouring drinks for each other under the table where the landlady couldn't see them.

The sounds coming from the kitchen ceased for a moment and the duo stilled.

"It's not even noon yet," a voice spoke. "Do I smell alcohol?"

Footsteps approached them.

They flailed and tried to shove the bottles of nihonshu under their clothes with limited success.

"Miya!" squeaked Uzume nervously. "Just a moment! We're… uh–"

There was a knock at the door.

Kazehana's eyes widened.

"Minato!"

She ran to the entrance, both her inebriation and the bottles left in plain sight forgotten.

Was he really back so soon? She could've sworn that he and the other two would have been stuck in the hospital for at least another few days! She wasn't ready! Ah… if only she had the time to change into that naked apron getup. That would have surely gotten a rise out of–

Her thoughts died and her stomach dropped. When she opened the door, Minato was not who she found on the other side.

Beads of sweat trickled down her skin. Every muscle in her body tensed. Blood started pumping through her so hard that she could hear her own heartbeat through her strangled breathing.

"You."

She could barely remember how to speak. She wasn't capable of enunciating much more than that.

Sekirei Number Four, Karasuba, smirked at her. A devil stood behind her wearing the mask of a man.

"Would you mind if we stepped in?" MBI's dog dared to ask.

Kazehana's fear washed off in an instant. All that was left was rage and indignance.

Instead of a reply, she recounted, "You tried to kill us yesterday; had things gone a little differently, you might have succeeded. Do you think I'd let you get to Minato so easily? Don't act like you don't know the rules… Sekirei aren't allowed to attack Ashikabi! Not even you're exempt from that."

To Number Three's surprise, her enemy laughed.

The white-haired Ashikabi stepped in front of his partner and Kazehana instinctively recoiled. However, he made no effort to move past the doorway.

"Sorry, maybe we should explain ourselves," he spoke softly. "We know that your Ashikabi isn't here. We're not here for him."

"Hm? Is something the matter? I thought I heard–"

Uzume peered over Kazehana's shoulder and stiffened.

With an apologetic smile, Karasuba's Ashikabi continued.

"We're here to see Matsu, actually. Can we speak with her please?"

Uzume gave her friend a quick, uncertain glance.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kazehana answered. "Why would you think that Matsu's here?"

Neither Ashikabi nor Sekirei had time to reply - an unidentified object shot out of the abode at lethal speeds, forcing both of them to split up and move to the side in order to avoid getting hit.

A woman wearing a tomesode burst out a moment later, only stopping once she reached the tree at the front of the property. She pulled the object, a kitchen knife, out of the bark and held onto it tightly.

"The Izumo Inn will not turn away a person in need," she whispered, steel in her voice, "but I will never welcome the likes of you. Leave."

Neither trespasser seemed phased by the threat. Miya took their inaction as a refusal to cooperate.

In the blink of an eye, she was standing inside of Karasuba's shadow. Unnerving both Kazehana and Uzume, the grey-haired woman didn't so much as twitch. Even as the knife's blade whistled, closing the distance between Miya's hand and the Black Sekirei's throat, Karasuba's smirk didn't falter.

The eyes of the two women standing at the entrance widened. They tried to say something–

"Stop!"

The shrill cry put an end to all movement. A knife's tip kissed Karasuba's jugular and a thin blade caressed Miya's cheek.

Slowly, the purple-haired woman turned her head to look over her shoulder. The Ashikabi stood behind her with an awkwardly-shaped sword gripped between his knuckles that stretched past her shoulders.

Kazehana wanted an answer to a good number of questions.

How he got behind Miya so quickly.

Where he was hiding that sword.

Why MBI's dog chose to leave her life in the hands of a human instead of moving out of the way like a sane person.

But most importantly…

"What are you doing out here, Matsu!? They'll kill you!"

A bespectacled brunette stood in the open yard with squared shoulders and trembling legs.

"We absolutely cannot allow this fight to happen!" the Brain-Type shouted back with a surprising amount of conviction. She had the attention of everyone present. "The consequences aren't worth it. You want me, right? Well, leave them out of it!"

Before any protests could be made, the Ashikabi dropped his sword and raised his arms placatingly.

"Slow down," he said. "We can try to talk things through first, can't we?"

X

Matsu didn't often come downstairs to socialize with the others at the inn, but of the times that she did, she couldn't think of any occasion that was anywhere near as unnerving as right now.

The Black Sekirei –the person she was running from– sat across from her at the table along with her Ashikabi. At the very least, she had a blanket of protection in the form of Kazehana and Uzume, who flanked her, and Miya, who sat at the head of the table as usual.

Unfortunately, it was not enough to calm her nerves.

She took a deep breath and got right into it. "I refuse to give you the Jinki. I can't, and I won't."

The two intruders exchanged looks for a moment. Karasuba shook her head.

"That's not it. We would like your help."

Matsu's brain wanted to make a quip, but she held herself back. Instead, she asked the more prudent question. Miya's protection or not, she didn't want to take any risks.

This was terrifying enough as it was.

"And how would I be able to help you?"

It was Karasuba's Ashikabi who answered.

"Data. I need information. Everything that you can find out about all participants of the Sekirei Plan. I don't care if they've already been eliminated or not."

Matsu grit her teeth.

It sounded like an easy enough deal, but she wasn't stupid.

Karasuba wasn't just a part of MBI, she was MBI. If she were operating on orders from the company, this was information that she would be able to get without needing to lift a finger. She'd get it delivered to her desk, wrapped neatly with a pretty pink bow. After all, it was MBI who held all of this confidential information in the first place.

The only explanation was that this had nothing to do with MBI at all.

She stared at the Ashikabi. The very same Ashikabi who had almost terminated her entire flock.

Including her Minato.

This had nothing to do with moderation, administration, crowd control, or whatever else Minaka Hiroto wanted to call it. Right now, Karasuba was playing the game to win.

And that meant that everyone else would have to die. No dots needed to be connected to deduce that she, Minato, and everyone important to her was included in that "everyone". Even if they swore to let her live right now –when she was as safe as can be with Miya not an arm's length away– giving Karasuba and her Ashikabi what they wanted was almost the same as putting a bullet through Minato's brain herself.

She was part of the Disciplinary Squad, once. She saw what Karasuba was capable of. Just the other day, she saw what the man that the Black Sekirei had let wing her was capable of.

Matsu was not delusional. If Karasuba wanted to win, then she could not give the woman all the pieces that she needed to win.

"…What if I refuse?" she dared to ask.

"You can't. We'll force you to cooperate."

It was not Karasuba who spoke.

The man said it with such self-assuredness that it was difficult to believe that he knew where he was and by whom he was surrounded.

"I'd thank you not to threaten my tenants, Mister Ashikabi," chimed Miya as if discussing the weather.

No. Matsu couldn't let things happen like this. Not in the Izumo household.

Miya didn't know what she knew.

"I won't help you… but– but!"

She quickly tried to get to the second half of her compound sentence when she saw everyone present preparing for bloodshed.

"–I know someone! There's definitely another Sekirei who can get what you want! You don't need me specifically, right? I can point you in the right direction, and they probably don't have someone as scary as her" –she pointed at Miya– "looking out for them."

Was she throwing another Sekirei under the bus? Yes, but if Number Four and her partner were going to get this information regardless, then she couldn't bear to be the one to give it to them.

Karasuba scratched her chin.

"There are more like you? How strange."

…She wanted to be surprised by the lack of forethought on the Disciplinary Squad member's part, but she really couldn't be.

Karasuba's Ashikabi reached into his jacket, and for a split second, she thought that all hope was lost.

He pulled out a cellphone and handed it to her.

"Write down everything we'll need on here. If there aren't any issues, then we won't need to bother you again."

Matsu couldn't help but fall into a state of denial. It couldn't have gone this smoothly, could it?

She refused to believe it.

Something was wrong.

She absentmindedly grabbed the device and started typing out all the names, addresses, and personal information that she had memorized ahead of time.

Something was wrong.

He took the phone back, posture relaxed even as three sets of eyes burned holes into his sides.

"Thank you for your time. I'm glad that we could find a compromise without resorting to violence."

Something was wrong.

They walked him and Karasuba to the door. The both of them bowed politely and left the property.

Something was wrong.

They disappeared behind the property's outer walls. If one ignored the damage done to the front yard, it was like they never came at all.

Something was wrong.

Everything was wrong.

She couldn't put her finger on it, there was something so inherently contrarian about this whole encounter that she couldn't help but fear that she had made a grave mistake.

Without any doubt, she was missing an enormous piece of the puzzle that was named Emiya Shirou.

A door creaked open within the house. All four women turned towards the sound.

A tired Homura rubbed his eyes.

"Sorry, I was asleep. I heard some sort of commotion; did I miss anything important?"

Matsu wanted to cry.

X

"You seem satisfied with how things turned out."

Sitting across from her at their dining room table, Shirou had his cellphone in one hand and a pen in another. He transcribed each line from the phone, deleting whatever note was written as he went along.

"You aren't?" he asked without looking up.

"That was an easy four, maybe five. We got what we wanted, so there was no reason not to do it."

"You and I have different definitions of 'easy'."

"That doesn't sound like a good excuse to me."

"And yet you already have all the answers."

She sunk into her chair and let out a fake whine.

"Ah… but we could have been done so much sooner."

Shirou put down the tools in his hands and finally gave his partner a proper look.

"You really want this thing over with, don't you?"

Instead of answering him verbally, she beamed at him.

A sound came from the apartment hallway which was closely followed by a ring of the doorbell.

Without thinking too much of it, Shirou left his spot and opened the door.

There was a letter at his feet.

How curious. He bent down to pick it up, and for a moment he was stuck frozen on his haunches.

That was a familiar stamp.

He quickly picked it up and tore open the envelope. His eyes shot from left to right as he read the English text, though they started to slow down with each line that he passed.

Karasuba took note of his extended visit at the entranceway and decided to give him some company.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"I have to fly back to England," he said flatly.

She tilted her head.

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Do you remember that Overseer that we killed?"

"Yes?"

"She's still dead, unsurprisingly. The Mage's Association found out. They want me in London in seventy-two hours for a court hearing."

She yawned and walked back into the house.

"It's not that important, is it?"

"Of course it is," he countered. "I'd rather not be labelled a criminal."

She started laughing, but he ignored it. Shirou continued, "I'll buy my ticket in the morning. It was an unsanctioned attack on my person, so despite her position, I think I should be able to make it back by–"

"Two tickets."

Her interruption threw him for a loop.

"Sorry?"

"Two tickets," she repeated with a Cheshire smile that he couldn't say he appreciated.

He immediately crossed his arms.

"No. Not a chance. It's too much of a– where are you going?"

"Two tickets!" was the last thing that he heard before the door to their bedroom was shut behind him.

He stood alone, staring blankly at the closest wall.

…That reminded him, they were really having difficulties having that second mattress delivered, weren't they?