"Hey, did you do something to anger Tohsaka?" Mitsuzuri asked. "I hate to say it, but she's being kinda… strange to you."
Sitting at his seat, Shirou sighed. So Mitsuzuri had noticed it too. He was glad it was her, at least. Issei would've caused a stir.
For the past month, he could feel a gaze on his back, a quiet feeling that sent shivers down his spine. He felt it as he walked around campus, as he talked with Issei in the hallways, and in a select few classes throughout the day. It was the subtle awareness of being observed, like a mouse to a cat. The first week, it was nearly imperceptible, and he had dismissed it. The second week, he could call it happenstance. But the eyes hadn't gone away, and he couldn't ignore it anymore.
Rin Tohsaka had been watching him, and he wasn't sure why.
"I'm as lost as you are. When did you notice?" Shirou replied. Luckily, Tohsaka had a different homeroom, so she wasn't around to hear their gossip. He didn't want to imagine what would happen if she overheard them. Speaking of, Mitsuzuri wasn't in his homeroom either. Was she that concerned?
"A few days ago. At first I thought she was watching you for a different reason," Mitsuzuri shrugged, half a smile forming on her face. "But when I tried to tease her about it yesterday, she got really cold. Like, scarily so. While smiling. Seriously, what did you do?"
"I wish I knew," Shirou groaned, leaning back into his seat. "I've been trying to figure it out, and there's nothing that really stands out."
He had been racking his brain for the last few hours. He didn't think he did anything to her. He wasn't in her homeroom, so they only shared a few classes together, and it's not like they interacted in them. Really, other than some short greetings in the morning, he barely talked to her!
They were on different stratospheres. She was the perfect honor student admired by everyone around her, with a distant, striking air that only elevated her status. Meanwhile, he was the not-so-perfect somewhat-above-average student, known for fixing equipment for a hodgepodge of clubs. And thinking about the nicknames bestowed on him behind his back, he was certainly not admired by the people around him. Janitor, doormat, and people-pleaser, just to name a few.
Mitsuzuri nodded. "Sounds about right. I can't really imagine you hurting someone."
"I'm glad you think so. I hope it's all just a misunderstanding."
"It probably is. Tohsaka's pretty stubborn, especially when she holds a grudge, so you might want to sort things out quickly," Mitsuzuri grinned. "Don't tell her I said any of that though."
"You make her sound so petty. Cold, stubborn, holder of grudges…" He knew about the coldness, but the other words were entirely new.
"I just have a better grasp of Miss Perfect than most of our grade," she said, looking thoughtful. "I can talk to her for you, if you'd like."
It was a nice offer. He would consider it. "That could be helpf-"
"But! You have to return to the archery club." Mitsuzuri smiled.
Shirou offered a wry smile. "Nice try, but I'll have to decline."
He didn't miss the way Mitsuzuri's smile turned taut, the brief flicker of disappointment in her features. It disappeared as swiftly as it surfaced.
"You sure? It's Tohsaka," she joked.
"I'll try sorting things out on my own first," he said. "If I need help, I promise I'lll come to you." Despite how intimidating Tohsaka was, he couldn't let someone else fight his battles alone.
Though Mitsuzuri would probably have more success than me, considering how she's actually friends with Tohsaka.
Mitsuzuri left when Fuji-nee arrived, a minute before the school day began, wishing him good luck on his mission. Four periods later, lunchtime rolled around. Shirou noticed Tohsaka walking down the classroom hallway from the corner of his eye. He got up from his seat and followed, catching her going up the stairwell to the roof. Butterflies floated in his stomach. He had been anticipating this moment throughout all of his morning classes. He did not want to mess this up.
"Excuse me, Tohsaka. Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked. Straightforward and polite. Just like he planned.
Tohsaka stopped halfway up the stairs. She turned to face him directly. Her eyes had a frigid, polished edge to them, like verglas over mountain stone. Her face was blank, devoid of emotion.
"I'm sorry, but I don't think we have anything to discuss," she responded, frostier than ice. She turned back around and continued walking up the steps. Shirou panicked. This isn't how it was supposed to go!
"Wait." Shirou tried again. "All I want is a conversation. Did I do something to anger you?"
Tohsaka's features stiffened for an instant, before shifting back into neutrality. She turned around. "Nothing is wrong, Emiya. We simply have nothing to discuss. Therefore, any conversion between us would be pointless. Please do not make me repeat myself again."
Tohsaka ascended the stairs. This time, Shirou didn't say a word.
He sighed, before heading back to class to eat his lunch.
Maybe he would take up Mitsuzuri on her offer after all.
The rooftop was as cold as ever, but Rin barely noticed it, her mind awhirl.
A few days ago, Kirei had called her to inform her of what he had learned, to her disbelief. Kiritsugu Emiya passed away five years ago, here in Fuyuki, he had said. The moment Rin heard those words, it was like a great weight had been lifted off of her chest, and she could finally breathe again. The Magus Killer, one of the most dangerous mercenaries in the world, the one who had likely murdered her father, was dead. But the second half of Kirei's message made her sigh. He is succeeded by his son, Shirou Emiya, whom he adopted after the Holy Grail War concluded. Though there is no proof Shirou Emiya is a magus, proceed with utmost caution. Do not let him deceive you.
Now, sitting on the rooftop, Rin reflected on what she had learned after observing Shirou Emiya: absolutely nothing. At this point, it had been nearly a month of surveillance, and she hadn't found anything that she didn't already know: Emiya was polite and kind. He helped out around school by fixing broken machinery. Though he was a member of the archery club, he had recently quit, leaving him with no official affiliations to any student organization. Issei Ryuudou and Ayako, his closest friends, always spoke highly of him, while other students were more polarized in their judgment. Overall, Emiya had a great reputation.
He always spoke so earnestly too! He was like an open book. When he talked to her today, he seemed so serious about fixing whatever was wrong. Rin could still picture that sincere expression that blatantly showed how bothered he was over what he might have done to her! Rin could feel her face heating up. Even now, she was getting agitated over Shirou Emiya.
She unwrapped her cafeteria food. Today she bought a bowl of tomato soup, a bread roll, and a bottle of green tea. Nothing special, but it was filling.
Like always, Rin sensed no magical energy at all from Emiya, not a hint that he could possibly be a part of the magical world. He was either the greatest actor the world had ever known, or just a normal student. She was leaning towards the latter.
Deep inside, she wanted to end her observation, especially now that she knew the Magus Killer was dead. Without the mercenary behind him, Emiya could hardly be a threat, even if he was a magus. Besides, he was adopted after the Grail War. There was no possible connection between him and her father's death. He had nothing to do with it.
She had told Kirei as such a few days ago.
"Is that what you believe, or is it what you wish?" Kirei had asked, his tone disapproving. "Decide, Rin. If you are certain he is innocent, then you have every right to forgo your work. But are you truly comfortable with leaving your safety up to fate?"
In a way, she was. She could handle any magus her age, let alone a boy who didn't emit a trace of magical energy.
Yes, Rin could handle him. But she was on high alert, ready to snap at a moment's notice.
What about someone who believed in him completely?
Every morning, Emiya would arrive at school by Sakura's side. She always smiled so cheerfully when they were together; it was obvious to everyone but the boy in question where her affections lay. But Sakura was an heir of one of the Three Founding Families. Furthermore, Emiya was friends with Shinji, too, whose scummy arrogance seemed to contradict his entire personality. Out of the few friends he had, what were the odds that two of them were Matou's?
It was an angle Rin hadn't considered before. Love and friendship led to trust. Trust made for a powerful ally and an easy target to boot.
But why should that matter to her? Shinji didn't matter, and Sakura wasn't her sister anymore, despite all of Rin's visits to the archery club and all the times she had helped Sakura in the hallways. Rin was made aware of that every time she returned to the silence of her empty mansion, in every solitary walk to school, in every single meal she had eaten since her father's funeral. Sakura's affairs weren't her responsibility or worth her concern. She was supposed to be nothing.
Rin sipped her tea. A quiet crackle broke the silence, the plastic bottle distorting in her hand. Her knuckles were colored white.
All I'm doing is preventing a potential disadvantage in the future. Nothing less, nothing more. It was a flimsy, shallow excuse, but the investigation would continue. At this point, observation from afar was pointless. Rin was beginning to suspect people were noticing her efforts too, if Ayako's teasing and Emiya's question were anything to go by.
A more direct approach was needed. Rin could have asked Kirei to do it, but she remembered the dark glint in his eyes when she mentioned Emiya's existence. No, Kirei would hurt him. Revenge for his father and master. She didn't want a classmate to die. She only needed to test if he was a magus.
And if he was…
Rin would need to take matters into her own hands. Regretfully, a plan began forming in her head.
She ate the remainder of her lunch slowly, alone with her thoughts.
Classes came and went, and school ended without fanfare. As he stepped out into the bustling courtyard, Shirou found himself face-to-face with a person he didn't really want to see.
"If it isn't Emiya! I heard you got rejected by Tohsaka today!" Shinji said, a smarmy smile plastering his face.
"Hello, Shinji. Shouldn't the vice-captain be at the archery club?" Shirou said.
"There's plenty of time. I'm sure they can survive without me for a few minutes," he replied. "Besides, as a caring classmate, I just want to be there for you when you're feeling down." His smile grew wider.
"Right. I'm sure Mitsuzuri can take care of the archery club without you."
Shinji's brow twitched. "I don't like what you're implying, Emiya. The archery club thrives because of me."
"Which is why you're here instead of at the dojo?"
His smile strained a little. "Don't act as if you know anything about the archery club, you outsider. People might get the wrong idea."
Shirou shrugged. "Let me know if you need any help with maintenance. I know you always had trouble with it, and I'm always happy to help."
Shinji bristled, his facade forgotten. "Enough about that. Tell me about how Tohsaka shot down your confession."
So it seemed Shinji had heard about it too. Shirou wasn't surprised. It wasn't like he had talked to Tohsaka in private. Even Issei had shown his concern, saying something about "staying away from that witch" for his own good. Why the student council president was so agitated by the greatest academic in their school, Shirou couldn't say.
"I think you're misunderstanding something, Shinji. I wasn't confessing to Tohsaka, nor am I interested in her romantically."
At least one of those statements was true.
"I know it must have been embarrassing, but you don't have to lie to me, Emiya. Just admit it." Shinji waved his hand. "Don't worry, I can keep it a secret."
Shirou let out a silent sigh. "I know you don't believe me, but I just needed to talk to her about something."
"You're still going to deny it? I didn't know you were capable of lying to your classmates," he scoffed.
Shirou briefly closed his eyes. This conversation was going nowhere.
He took a step forward.
"Excuse me, but I have to leave. I don't want to be late to work. Good luck at your next competition." With that, he nodded to Shinji and exited the gate to the school. Behind him, he heard Shinji shout something indistinct, but Shirou didn't respond.
At one point, Shirou would have easily called Shinji a friend, but now, he wasn't sure what they were. Perhaps Shinji was always arrogant, but Shirou believed that underneath all the mockery and blue hair was someone who cared for his friends and family in his own, kelpy way. Sadly, Shinji had proved him wrong time and time again.
Having a part-time job wasn't against the rules of Homurahara Academy, so Shirou usually had several gigs at the same time. Working at the Copenhagen was by far his favorite.
After being greeted by Neko, the owner's daughter, Shirou put on an apron, donned some gloves, and got to work. He swept and cleaned the floor. He polished the tables and pushed in chairs, collected empty glasses and picked up trash. He maneuvered through the crowd and the furnishings like it was his own home, and in a way, it was.
He had been working at the Copenhagen for five years. He liked the pub; it had a warmth to it that many other stores lacked. Behind the bar, a panoply of wines, whiskeys, and other liquors shone under pleasant amber lights. On the other side of the room, a gentle fire simmered in a small metal hearth against a wall. A few feet away, Neko's memories decorated the walls, dozens of photos of smiles and scenery, offering a glimpse of important moments of her life.
The Copenhagen welcomed a variety of people every night, but they were familiar faces, the regular crowd after a long day at work. They appreciated the Copenhagen. Even when he was a middle schooler, Shirou rarely had trouble with rowdy customers or drunken regulars. He enjoyed the work, menial as it was, to create a clean, well-lit place.
The day had long departed when he finally finished his shift.
"Looks like we're good, Emi-yan. Once you're ready, I'll lock the door and you can clock out," Neko said.
"Thank you," he replied, leaning his broom against the wall. "I'll finish up here in just a moment."
Neko nodded. "Get a good rest. It was a rough day today," she said, which was far more accurate than she knew.
On his way home, Shirou pondered what he would cook for dinner today. He had recently restocked on meat, so he had a couple options for protein today. Ah, but there was some unused salmon from a few days ago. He had to use that now or else it would lose its freshness. So he could butter up the salmon, add some mushrooms, wrap it in foil, then cook it for twenty minutes. It would go great with a bowl of rice! A balanced diet was important, so he had to decide on the vegetable dish next…
He had nearly reached home when a sound like a gunshot burst behind him.
Instinctively, he dove straight to the pavement. Gunshots meant bullets, and bullets meant injuries. He needed to find cover, immediately. But before Shirou could move for even a second, something hit his back with a sickening splatter. He tumbled to the ground.
A cold, searing pain erupted in his back that quickly grew numb. The sensation rapidly proliferated through the rest of his body, icy and acute, as if he was stabbed with a thousand frostbitten needles across each of his pores, before it all turned numb.
Shirou tried to move his legs, tried to move anything, but he couldn't feel a single part of his body. His whole body was leaden, as goosebumps crawled over his skin and his breathing turned ragged. His skin felt clammy and hot. He wanted to cough, to sneeze, to vomit all at the same time, like he was infected with a dozen different illnesses all at once.
This was no mere bullet.
What did I get hit by?
He had to stay awake, but his eyelids were so, so heavy. He gritted his teeth, willing himself to budge with all the strength he had left. But the only response to his struggles was the miserable shaking of an arm and a leg, accompanied by cold sweat that mocked his efforts.
Distantly, he could hear faint footsteps behind him. He tried to turn his head towards the sound, but his muscles failed him once again. He tried to say something, but all that came out was groans and shallow breaths.
A soft touch on his neck was the last thing Shirou felt before everything went black.
Rin grabbed Emiya's limp body from the sidewalk and dragged him upright onto a nearby bench. It was the first time she had used her Gandr on someone other than Kirei. She had not expected him to react to it, nor had she expected he would remain conscious after being hit by one. It seemed she had underpowered her shot considerably.
Next time, that wouldn't happen.
In the end, Rin had to admit that Kirei was right. She had to tie up all loose ends. A good magus had to account for all possibilities. If there was even a chance the son of her father's killer was a threat, she had to protect herself. Regardless if her stomach roiled.
Though she was confident in her hypnosis, if Emiya was a normal person, she might do permanent damage to his memory if she didn't use the perfect amount of magical energy. If he was a magus, hypnosis would be far more ineffective.
A weak Gandr was a safer bet. Just enough to knock out a normal human, but not enough to cause injury. If he wasn't a magus, he wouldn't remember a thing. But if he was, he might be able to protect himself. At that point, Rin could use her authority as Second Owner of Fuyuki to demand why an unregistered magus was operating under her domain. She could protect herself through legal means and through combat.
Once again, there were no traces of any sort of magecraft from Emiya. Before, she had always assumed that meant he wasn't a magus. Now she could check for certain.
Sitting on the bench, Rin took a closer look at him. He had short, striking red hair that warred with his unassuming presence. A slim face of little body fat. A developing jawline that became sharper with every year. He was fit. Frowning, Rin channeled her Od into the tips of her fingers. This was the final test.
Rolling up his sleeves, Rin searched for a Magic Crest. She found nothing. This wasn't surprising. Kirei claimed Emiya was adopted, so a Magic Crest could never have been passed down.
The Magic Circuits were the focal point.
There were a couple ways of analyzing if a person had Magic Circuits. In Tohsaka tradition, aspiring heirs would swallow a gem that would forcefully switch the circuits on. Glancing at Emiya's unconscious face, she discarded that idea. She didn't need to activate his circuits, only locate them.
Rin remembered how her father had analyzed her own Magic Circuits. He had placed a hand on her wrist, and carefully analyzed her body, before announcing the results. She mimicked his movements, curling her fingers around Emiya's wrist. She closed her eyes, and focused the tiniest bit of Od into the points where they touched. From there, she spread the energy all around his body, from head to toe, searching for any Magic Circuits and analyzing any she found. It was a slow process, but thorough.
If she had done this correctly, he had twenty-seven Magic Circuits. Though they were lower in both quality and quantity compared to Rin's, it was still an unusually high amount compared to the average civilian. But they were effectively dormant; not a single sign of use on any of them. If Emiya was raised to be the next Magus Killer, then his circuits would have been activated by now.
Rin quietly stood up from the bench and examined him again.
Emiya's face was contorted. He was shivering in his sleep. Droplets of sweat shone on his body despite the nighttime air. It was a far cry from the calm composure he always wore at school.
With a short incantation, Rin erased his memory of the past few minutes. It was a weak, fragile hypnosis, but it was more than enough for a normal person. She then undid the damage from the Gandr shot, which would remove all the illnesses ravaging his body. From her.
She set Emiya's limp body upright on the bench and walked home.
Upon entering the parlor, she reviewed what she had done.
Today, she discovered that Shirou Emiya was a normal person. Exactly what I expected.
There was no harm done. She hadn't stolen anything from him. There wouldn't be any lasting effects on his body. He would wake up feeling refreshed, like after a long nap, blissfully unaware of what she had done.
It was a harmless crime.
Rin let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding in. Feeling weak, she leaned against a wall.
Emiya was innocent. He always was.
Today, she attacked her own classmate.
Rin shuddered.
"Senpai, are you okay? Senpai?" A worried voice slowly drifted to his ears.
Shirou stirred awake, gently shaken by a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw anxious, violet eyes.
"Oh, Sakura. What are you doing here?" Shirou asked.
"I should be asking you that, senpai." Sakura's concern shifted into a cute frown. "You were sleeping on the bench!"
"I was?" He glanced at his sides. Sure enough, he was seated on the wooden bench near his house.
"You were, senpai. Are you feeling alright?" Shirou took a moment to consider his health.
Breathing, fine.
No aches, soreness, or other bodily pains.
No headaches, grogginess, or dizziness.
He was fine. So why did he fall asleep?
"I guess I was just tired from my part-time job. Don't worry, Sakura. It won't happen again."
Sakura moved her hand from his shoulder to his forehead. Her hand was soft.
"Hmm. Your temperature is fine, and you don't seem very sick," she mumbled. "Maybe you really were just tired…" She trailed off.
"Still! I told you sleeping in the shed is bad for your health. You have to sleep properly!" Sakura chided, snapping back to attention. Shirou smiled. It was like she remembered she was supposed to be worried about him.
"Sure, sure. I'll do my best."
"If you don't, I'll get really mad!" He forced down a grin. An angry Sakura was like an angry puppy. Sweet and energetic.
"I'll ask Neko for less hours, then."
"And I'm cooking dinner tonight."
"Sure, sur-what? Why?" Shirou was aghast.
She made a wide gesture with her hand, from the bench to him. "I think it's obvious, senpai."
"But that doesn't me-"
"Nope. No excuses. Senpai is to rest tonight," she announced, in a tone that brooked no argument, before heading to the front door. Her lips had the smallest upward quirk, he noticed.
Shirou followed her in with grumbles and complaints, but the iron wall named Sakura Matou was not to be denied today.
Secretly, he was proud of how emotive his kouhai had become. When they first met, the day she had shown up at his door after his archery injury, she wouldn't even meet his eyes. It wasn't as if Sakura was afraid of him or disliked him, she was just…apathetic, as if she was just going through the motions, day-in and day-out. She never smiled, and she would only talk when necessary. It didn't feel right for a high schooler to look so empty. Now, Sakura was so assertive that she wouldn't let him cook!
Sitting by the dining table, Shirou couldn't help but notice how she had grown physically as well. Still adorned by a red ribbon, her silky, violet hair had grown a bit longer, her chin a little sharper. Sakura's figure had filled out as well. Homurahara's brown school vest failed to hide her generous bust. With every movement around the kitchen, her chest would rise and dip, lifting the fabric of her uniform along with it. Similarly, her skirt did nothing to conceal the sway of her budding hips. She was truly becoming a wom-
Shirou blushed, turning away, ashamed of himself. Sakura trusted him. She didn't deserve his dirty gaze.
With a bang, the front door slid open, and a ravenous predator barged into the dining room.
"Shirou!" Taiga roared, stretching out the last syllable of his name. "I'm hungry! Make me food!"
Glancing up from his spot at the table, Shirou shrugged, gesturing towards Sakura's activity in the kitchen. "Sorry, Fuji-nee. I'm banned from the kitchen today."
"Huh? Is everything okay? Did you do something to Sakura?" Taiga looked alarmed, as she jumped straight to a conclusion.
"It's for his own good, Fujimura-sensei," Sakura chimed in. "I found senpai asleep on the bench outside."
Taiga gasped. She peered at his face, searching for signs of illness. "That's not normal for you! Are you okay, Shirou? I can take you to the hospital."
"I'm fine. I guess I was just tired from my job," he repeated. It was the most rational explanation he could think of.
Taiga sighed. "Geez, I bet you did overtime today too. This is why students shouldn't be working. You already do so much at school. You could instead relax at home and not be an idiot."
Sakura chose that moment to carry her food to the table, denying a chance for Shirou to rebut. The fragrance of garlic, rosemary, onion, black pepper, and parsley danced through the air, mixed together like flowers in a spring bouquet. Today's dish was chicken with white sauce, cooked with a number of different herbs and spices. It looks amazing, Shirou thought.
Sakura set down the plate. Taiga cheered, grabbing a bowl of freshly cooked white rice. Sakura served her some generous portions of chicken, with Shirou following behind her, eager to sample.
He took a tentative bite to a burst of flavor. The chicken meat was juicy and tender, and the herbs complimented the sauce perfectly. He took another bite, much larger this time.
"This is so good, Sakura!" Taiga exclaimed. Shirou nodded his agreement.
"I know you like white sauce, Fujimura-sensei, so I wanted to use it. Chicken was the natural choice," Sakura explained. "I'm glad it turned out well."
That was an understatement. Visually, aromatically, tastefully, Sakura had truly outdone herself today.
"I think you've outmatched me in western cooking," Shirou admitted. "I don't think I could make this dish this well." If he wanted to match her, Shirou would have to step up his game.
Sakura's face lit up. "Thank you so much, senpai! It's all thanks to you." Her smile was like a sunny day. "But I have a long way to go before ever surpassing you. There's so much you have to teach me."
"See, Shirou? This is what you should be doing. Instead of working all day and sleeping on benches, you should be coming home and cooking for your older sister!" Taiga declared in-between bites of her second serving.
"Or maybe you can learn to cook for yourself. Then you can make your own dinner." Shirou rolled his eyes.
"The reason I don't need to learn is because I have you two! It's called energy conservation," she said wisely, pointing a finger in the air like she was teaching a lesson. "You learn that in physics!"
Shirou noticed Sakura fight down a smile from the sideline.
"Then maybe I should start charging you for meals. We learned about supply and demand in economics. I think I can use that here," he replied.
"You dare extort the one who raised you?" Taiga accused, completely misusing the word. "How ungrateful! You should be cooking for me everyday!"
"Once we graduate you'll have nothing to eat, you bad adult," he retorted. "Then what will you do?"
Taiga froze, chopsticks in the air, before crumpling to the table. She rested her head on the wood.
"Sakura, Shirou is being mean to me. Can I have another bowl?"
Sakura giggled and served her another helping.
After sending Taiga and Sakura off, Shirou made his way over to the shed in his backyard. It was time to train his magecraft. To begin, he needed a Magic Circuit.
He cleared his mind, bracing himself.
"Trace, on."
The pain arrived like a relentless storm.
Creating a Magic Circuit was like shoving a white-hot poker into his spine, one inch at a time, until he tempered his nerve into a temporary Magic Circuit and connected it back into his nervous system.
The first step of a magus is to accept death, Kiritsugu had said. If Shirou lost his concentration, even for the briefest second, the makeshift Magic Circuit would collapse, and his body would erode with it. In the absolute best-case, he would be crippled for the rest of his life. It was dangerous, but if he couldn't manage the most basic step, how would he ever become a hero?
His insides burned like an egg about to burst.
Magic is only a way to destroy yourself. Kiritsugu had never wanted him to be a magus. It took two years of constant pleadings for Kiritsugu to even consider teaching him.
Shirou let out a strained heave through gritted teeth. The process was close to completion.
What I will teach you will bring you conflict. But conflict would exist even if Shirou didn't learn magecraft. If he wanted to save people, he needed every tool at his disposal. Shying away from the first step would only detract from his goal.
The circuit fused with his body. Finally. Inhaling, Shirou pushed aside the pain to hone his attention.
"Composition, analyze. Basic structure, alter."
Reaching out, Shirou grasped the iron pipe before him. It was ice against his overheated body.
"Composition, reinforce." Reinforcement magic was one of the few things Shirou could do. He channeled his Od, his life energy, and processed it through his magic circuit and poured it into the pipe.
Concentrating, he spread the converted magical energy over every part of the pipe, every flaw and strength, willing it to fortify, to become better than it already was.
Just…a…little…more.
The energy slipped away like water down a drain. The heat from the Magic Circuit faded away, and with it, the circuit itself. He collapsed to the ground. In his hand, the pipe remained exactly the same.
He had failed again.
Shirou let his cooling body fall to the stone floor of the shed. He was drenched in sweat. Over an hour's work, and he had nothing to show for it. Like usual.
Recalling Sakura's warnings, he briefly practiced some projection before heading to sleep.
"You okay, Emiya?" Mitsuzuri asked, a pensive expression on her face. She was leaning against a window in the hallway, calling him out right as he walked past her.
"I'm fine. Why do you ask?" he said. Morning clubs had ended, but homeroom had yet to start. He had time to talk.
Mitsuzuri snorted. "Because your face is all scrunched up and serious."
"I'm just thinking about something. It's pretty much nothing," he said. It wasn't a lie, technically. He was thinking about the absence of something, which was a form of nothing.
"Is it Tohsaka?" She probably heard about yesterday's unsuccessful conversation.
"No, actually. It's about something else," he said. Ever since he had woken up, Shirou had felt an unease creep over him. It was like the nagging frustration that a person gets in the back of their head when they know they forgot something, but aren't sure what.
Something is wrong.
It started when he fell asleep on the bench. He recalled going to work, walking home, then waking up to Sakura's voice. He didn't remember sitting on the bench, or even reaching his house. He could chalk it up to exhaustion, but he wasn't tired in the slightest. Rather, working at the Copenhagen only got him more excited to cook dinner.
Something was missing, but the harder he tried to remember, the more it eluded him. Somehow, he could tell that whatever he was forgetting was important too, which made it all the more annoying.
"If you want to talk about it with someone, I'm here for you." Mitsuzuri said.
"I appreciate it." Shirou nodded his assent. She knew something was off about him, but didn't pry any further. It was one of the many things he liked about her. Playful, yet considerate.
Something is wrong.
He was about to go to class when she spoke up again.
"You know," she started casually. "You didn't have to quit the archery club."
Shirou tilted his head. "From what Sakura says, you guys are doing fine without me," he pointed out. It had been a while since he quit. Why was she so persistent about it now?
"We are." She crossed her arms, an easy grin forming on her lips. "But we could use you, and the underclassmen would love to have you back."
He thought about it. "Maybe Sakura would be happy to see me. But I doubt the rest of them would care."
"They would. Trust me. They miss having a nice upperclassman. At least one better than Shinji." Her eyes narrowed. "Speaking of, if it's about Shinji, don't worry about him. I've got your back if he starts trouble again."
There was a misconception here. Shirou felt a little guilty for correcting it.
"Shinji was just an excuse. To be honest, my schedule was way too packed back then," he said. "I was probably going to quit archery anyway."
Mitsuzuri was silent for a moment, chewing her lip. Her eyes dropped to the floor, chestnut-colored hair falling past her face.
"I really want to compete with you again," she said at last, tone swathed with resignation. Her smile turned bitter, and Shirou knew it was only aimed at herself. "I wanted to beat you."
"You've improved every day. If we had a match now, I'm not sure I could win," he said, meaning every word. Shirou had seen the calluses take shape on Mitsuzuri's right hand, in the inner joints of her fingers and the very tips. He had watched her draw the bowstring since their first year, practicing long after the other students had left, refusing to stop until her fingers were swathed in blisters and her shoulder was shaking. Even He had watched her accuracy improve until she was the second-best in the club.
"Maybe. But now I'll never know." Mitsuzuri looked like she wanted to say more, before stopping mid-motion, catching herself. She shook her head and patted her cheeks, then met his eyes with renewed energy. "Well, if you're ever interested in coming back, I want you to know that there's always a spot for you."
Another thing he appreciated about her.
"Thank you, Mitsuzuri. I'll try to return when I have time. I promise," he said honestly.
A hint of red tinted her cheeks. "You better." She brushed him off, turning to walk away. "See you around, Emiya."
"Bye, Mitsuzuri." He continued to class.
Shirou slowly tuned out his teacher's lecture, focusing on the next weird thing he was faced with instead. He hadn't been paying attention to most of his classes recently, he realized.
It was noon. He was in one of the few classes he shared with Tohsaka. Today, the weight of Tohsaka's gaze had disappeared. It was everything he had been hoping for in the preceding week.
Shirou turned around.
When Tohsaka entered his view, she let out the briefest jolt, a tightening of her limbs and joints, a slight bend of her brow. Her eyes were locked on the blackboard, refusing to even look in his direction, which only emphasized the subtle dark circles under her eyelids. There was a slight quiver in her movements, like a nervous tick.
Concealing a frown, he turned back to the front of class.
Before, Tohsaka held some sort of animosity towards him, but now, a different emotion had taken its place. A few parts worry, a few parts panic. What changed?
Shirou's brows knit together. Worry and panic. He didn't like that.
The lunch bell rang. Class ended. He escaped the classroom and went into the hallway, carrying his shoulder bag, unsure of what to do. He could eat his lunch with Issei, or try to smooth things out with Tohsaka.
He was saved from deciding when the girl in question walked up to him.
"I need to talk to you," Tohsaka said. Her words were languid and weak. "Just for a few minutes."
"What?" he asked intelligently.
Tohsaka pursed her lips. "I need to talk to you," she repeated, a little firmer this time.
"Sure?" he said, still confused.
She spun around and beckoned him to follow. They made their way to the stairwell up to the roof. Shirou could feel the suspicious glares of his classmates tracking him as he walked behind Homurahara's school idol. He ignored them.
After reaching the rooftop, Shirou let the door close behind him. Tohsaka stopped, meeting his eyes with resolve. Her hair shifted and swayed in the breeze. She looked exhausted.
"I owe you an apology," she said. "I was rather…hostile to you yesterday. I'm sorry, Emiya."
Surprise bloomed in his chest.
"It's alright." He smiled. "It was just a little strange, that's all. I wasn't sure what to think. It's not like you hurt me or anything."
His words had the opposite effect of what he intended. Tohsaka flinched, recoiling as if she had been struck. Her mouth opened then closed again, hesitant.
"You didn't deserve that," she murmured. Her words sounded far away. "You really didn't."
He didn't like seeing Tohsaka so dispirited. Was she that guilty over one conversation?
"It's not a big deal," he said carefully. "I accept your apology. Let's move past this, okay?"
Tohsaka slowly nodded. "Yes. Thank you for listening to me. That's all I wanted to say. You can go now, Emiya."
Shirou wanted to cheer her up, but he didn't know how to. As he stepped away, he saw her reach into her vest pocket. Her eyes widened. He thought he heard her suppress a sigh.
He stopped.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I-it's nothing," she answered quickly.
Shirou gave her a look. "It's clearly not."
"It's none of your concern."
"Tohsaka, please let me know, or else I'll get worried." He already was worried, but she didn't need to know that.
Tohsaka fidgeted with her hands. "It's not a big deal. I just forgot to bring lunch money today. Please don't worry about it. I'll just eat something after school."
"Ah. Got it." So even Tohsaka has those days. Shirou set his bag down and flipped through it until he found his lunch. Along with his chopsticks, he grabbed his bento and held it out to her. "Here."
"Huh?" she said, sounding just as articulate as he normally did.
"It's lunch," he explained.
She glared at him. "I'm aware of what lunch is. What are you doing with it?"
"Isn't it obvious? I'm giving it to you."
Her cheeks colored pink. "I know that! I'm asking why."
"Because you forgot your lunch money?" It seemed clear to him.
Tohsaka stared at him, shock and embarrassment warring on her face.
"I...you can't just…what?" she stammered, before shaking her head. "N-no, thank you for the offer, but I can't accept this."
"Why not?" he asked.
"Because I can't just take your lunch," she said. "It's unfair if you suffer because of my mistakes."
Huh. Tohsaka was less cold than he thought.
"Then think about it like this: I won't accept your apology until you accept my lunch first."
Her jaw went slack. "What? T-that doesn't make any sense! Besides, you need to eat too!"
"Eh, I'll be fine. Here, just return it tomorrow." Before she could respond, Shirou shoved the lunchbox and chopsticks into her hands with a brisk step forward. The moment she had a hold of it, he turned around and went back into the building, ignoring the staccato stutters behind him.
Shirou grinned. Angry was better than sad, right?
Rin slumped to the ground, as all sorts of emotions made themselves known.
She should have stopped him. She should have chased after him and returned his lunch. Instead, she just stood there like a scarecrow endowed with speech, unable to do anything but gawk.
It was too late now. There was no catching him, not without further destroying her cultivated image. Rin sighed. Even if she did try to return it, he would never accept it. Emiya was beyond stubborn. Once he made up his mind on something, he wouldn't relent. She had known that for a long time.
She looked at the gray box in her hands. There were no labels, plastic, or any kind of brand imprinted onto it. Pulling off the lid, Rin unveiled an assortment consisting of white rice, rolled omelet, sliced vegetables, and a sausage shaped like a cute little octopus.
It was still a little warm.
She rested her back against the school's heating unit. Grabbing his chopsticks, she sampled each part of the bento with a delicate precision.
Delicious. With everything fully cooked and well-seasoned, it was far better than any school lunch she had eaten in years. Even the rice was fluffy and soft.
Of course it was delicious. A student, handyman, and now a cook. What couldn't Emiya do?
Be a magus, a spiteful part of her whispered.
High jump, a louder part of her shouted.
She suddenly wondered if he had used these chopsticks before. He definitely had to have, right? Rin felt herself flush. Intrusive thoughts were not welcome!
It was strange, unfair even. First, she had attacked Emiya, and now she was eating his lunch. Had her hypnosis scrambled his brain?
Speculation could come later. First, Rin would finish his food, savoring each and every bite.
A/N: The remaster was released today! I bought it and the bugs are sooo funny. As a note, my drafts and notes are all based on the original VN, so for consistency, I'll be sticking with that. Also, my Nasu-fu isn't that strong, so please bear with me.