Days later.

— The Kendo Club Tryouts.

You'd think that the tryouts for a high school sports club wouldn't be too big a deal. And you'd normally be right — unlike, say, football, Kendo didn't have any real career implications, though very much a traditionally valued sport. It was a cultural practice first and foremost, and its practitioners knew that intimately. More often than not, Kendo tryouts were friendly, sober events; one has to be respectful of the practice, after all.

Kuoh Academy's Kendo Club Tryouts were no exception. Superficially, that is.

— To contextualise.

The truth is that the Kendo Club is pretty much exclusively a women's club. Not by ruling as much as by circumstances; mixed sports clubs weren't rare, but they also weren't the norm, and the uneven student gender division in Kuoh made for plenty of female-only clubs, many of which weren't overtly comfortable with including men in their roster. Even Kiba wasn't really a part of the club, though he could easily have been if he'd asked — not that he would.

There was yet another reason the Kendo Club set itself apart from most others.

In the case of the Kyūdo Club, which he and Issei would also try to join, it was very much a small, cultural event. There's a reason he wasn't very worried about Issei in that regard; for one, there wasn't really any way to beat Kyūdo into him the way he had Kendo, and for another — all the tryouts consisted of was showing what you knew to the members. Issei knew nothing, but he wasn't incapable of the bare minimum respect he'd need to go through Kyūdo tryouts without incident.

Frankly, Shirou rather thought the boy would benefit from Kyūdo. But that was up to Issei; as long as the boy was upfront about his inexperience, he should be fine.

— Kendo was another thing entirely.

"Good morning, Kōsetsu-kun."

The greeting came from the Student Council President, Sona Shitori.

Her uniform was perfectly maintained. The black ribbon around her neck was measured to a T. Her crossed arms emphasised her figure — not that she was as… well endowed, as someone like Rias or Akeno, but there was a lithe delicacy to her own figure that made her look quite fetching. Once again, her expression was closely guarded — the picture of neutrality.

But Shirou knew the pleased gleam in her eyes meant they were friendly. Honestly — at this point, they might even be friends.

"Good afternoon, Shitori-san." He greeted the girl genially, smiling at her. She didn't smile back, per se, but something in her posture lightened. "I didn't expect you to be here today. Is anyone in the Student Council gonna be in the tryouts?"

The girl looked at him for a second, piercing pink gaze meeting his golden pools for a second — and then her eyes travelled to the side, moving past the few people trying for Kendo, past the established members conversing cheerfully with a smiling Yūto Kiba, and settling on Hyōdo Issei.

For a second, his blood ran a little cold.

Did she know? Was she in on the supernatural, too? Surely not — Shitori-san cared so deeply about the school norms… but then again —

And then he saw it; a gleam of amusement in her eyes, sharp like a dagger.

He found himself chuckling.

"Did you come to see Ise try his hand at Kendo?"

"I wanted to see if he'd follow through on the excuse he made on the spot. I can see you've been working with him, Kōsetsu-san."

In other words — she'd come to call Ise out on his bluff.

Shirou chuckled once again.

"I see. I didn't think that'd be enough to make you come here, though."

Shitori-senpai blinked.

"Ah —" A pause. She… fidgeted, of all things, in place; looking slightly off-put as she averted her gaze for but a moment. "Well… I have been counting on your help for quite a while, Kōsetsu-san. I thought it would be…"

Ah —

Honestly! He might have been overthinking his interactions with the President. There were surely things she was hiding from him, he knew. There was a weight to her posture he couldn't quite place, an erratic nature to her gaze that he didn't know how to describe. But as the girl fidgeted a little in place, less out of embarrassment and more out of discomfort, he thought —

"Thanks, Shitori-senpai. You're a good friend."

She jolted — eyes widening for a second.

Ise would've probably made some remark if he'd been paying attention. Shirou himself wasn't blind enough to ignore what it might look like — but he didn't think that was it. Most of Sona's friends were in the Student Council, and she had a bit of a reputation for being stern outside of her own group. People were often a little scared to approach her. Even within the Council, he knew she was the unforgiving sort. Strict with others and herself at all times.

He figured she wasn't spectacular at making friends. He could say the same — so he understood where she was coming from.

The pleased gleam in her eyes told him he'd said the right thing.

"...Yes, well. You have been… pleasant company yourself."

And that was that.

— Shirou turned his attention elsewhere as Sona was approached by one of the Kendo Club members. His eyes naturally drifted towards the boy standing on the opposite side of the room to himself, seemingly having a pleasant conversation. Kiba continued to attract adoration from everyone he interacted with, and seemed to take it all in stride.

His eyes were sharp, though — sending him soul-splitting glances when no one was paying attention. This time, though — Shirou met his eyes head-on.

… honestly. What a troublesome guy.

"Hey, Shirou." Ise approached him cautiously. Much like Shirou himself, the boy was already clad in the outfit he'd prepared for him and carried a shinai in his hands a bit awkwardly. His steps were a bit uneven. "Do you know that guy or something?"

"...No," he replied. "Not really."

"...Alright?" Ise shrugged, eyebrows furrowed. He must've been a little obvious if Issei of all people had called him out on his strange behaviour, but it was hard not to feel a little alarmed. "Anyway…"

He could practically feel the nerves in the boy's posture — so he smiled and slapped him in the back.

"You'll do fine," and he meant it. Not great, by any stretch of the imagination, but fine. "Don't worry about it. I think they all know you're a newbie, so no one's gonna go too hard on you. Focus on showing what you learned and you'll be fine."

"Yeah, alright, tutorial man..." Issei grumbled. "...Thanks, though."

— As for Shirou himself.

He still remembered what his assignment was. He still remembered what his purpose there was meant to be.

It was hard not to let his nerves get to his head. His hand itched for the familiar shape of a shinai's hilt. His heart thundered in his chest slightly; thump, thump, thump. It was in the realisation that the first domino piece was to be set down right then and there — the very first act in the year's chess game.

— That's right.

… it's enough to make him laugh.

Someone entered the room. A group — three people. Their steps are light. Their movement is purposeful. They walk with the assurance that only comes from the combination of power and prestige.

All eyes were drawn to them in an instant. Not a single person could look away. A silence fell like heavy rainfall on the dojo.

The stench of sulfur marked their path;

Rias Gremory. Himejima Akeno. And the Kouhai, Tōjō Koneko. ,

Their very presence cut through the ambience like a knife through butter. Rias Gremory's existence demanded attention and respect. Admiration follows in her wake — this was the scope of her reputation.

She walked past him and Issei without a glance. Walked past Sona with a smile. Walked past the Kendo Club members who greeted her with a nod of the head — and stopped in front of Kiba.

"Buchō—" He greeted her. He seemed vaguely surprised at her presence; enough that his voice was slightly raised. It was the first time he'd seen this emotion in Yūto Kiba.

"Hehe. Why so shocked, Kiba-kun?" The crimson-haired girl questioned her friend with a look that was almost coy. "Of course, we'd come to watch you. It's not always we get to see you act so social."

— Something goes unsaid between them.

He didn't know what. In every way that mattered, Gremory is still a mystery. What she says, what she implies, what she wants — Shirou couldn't tell unless it's made clear. But there was something there.

Kiba's posture stiffened just a bit; tension flowing through him like water and locking his shoulder like steel. He and Gremory exchanged another complicated look he just couldn't see from this distance — and then, as one, their eyes travelled over Rias' shoulder, with the girl tilting her head just so.

For a second, and just a second — they looked right at him.

Shirou stared back into the abyss. He did not look away — he met both of their gazes impassively.

… The next second, they're talking to one another in more hushed voices. The air flooded back into the dojo — conversation-starting anew, hushed rumours and whispers already going about. The girls and a few boys all looked at Rias and Kiba with starstruck gazes.

"...Hey, Shirou. Was it just me or did they look at us just then?" Issei questioned cautiously. He looked a bit off-put. In a second, though, he recovered — and greeted him with a lecherous grin. "You didn't pick a fight with your crush or anything, right? That's playground behaviour, man…"

And just like that, he ruined the mood.

"…Maybe I should volunteer to spar with you?" Shirou asked his friend, brightly.

The fear of God descending upon the Auburn-haired boy's face made him feel better indeed.

"...Ahem. Um… Can I have everyone's attention, please?"

A reluctant voice called out from the back, amplified by a microphone and a speaker at the back.

One of the main members of the club now addressed the crowd — a pretty young girl by the name of Katase. He wasn't very familiar with her, frankly; not even enough to know her full name. But he'd seen her around a few times.

She had strawberry blond hair, which she wore without any bangs — all the way tied to the back. She was a little bit short for their age, but not enough to draw the eye — and had a lithe, athletic body. Honestly, while she looked dainty even in her kendogi, he could definitely tell she was well-practiced by the musculature of her shoulders, arms, and the few calluses on her hands she probably hadn't managed to avoid even with good skincare.

All he knew of her was that Motohama and Matsuda had managed to piss her and her friend Murayama somehow, and now they were both persona-non-grata to the entire Kendo Club. Issei and he had thankfully managed to escape that particular bit of foul reputation by being elsewhere at the time — but he didn't want to think about what would've been of Issei if he hadn't been there to drag his friend away from those two idiots (who probably were also his friends, at this point, but he didn't like thinking about that.)

"We'd like to begin the tryouts soon, so if everyone could clear the centre, please?" She requested. As people began following her instructions, she continued. "As I think everyone knows, today we'll be hosting the tryouts for the Kuoh Academy Kendo Club. Um, most of our members are women, but I can see there are a few boys here today — that's fine!"

If she insisted…

"We're just going to pair you all with a member based on your experience level so that we can have a better idea of your level of experience. It's okay to be a newbie, so don't lie to us when we talk to you, okay? We won't hold it against you. Um… we also have a few guests today who aren't really members of the Kendo Club, but help us out and spar with us sometimes."

She threw Kiba a coy glance. Was every girl in this school into him? To his credit, he just smiled back genially.

"Anyway! We hope to, uh, diversify and expand a little this year. We'd also like to remind everyone that while you can technically be part of more than one Club, it's not really encouraged… O-Oh, and to thank Gremory-senpai and Shitori-senpai for being here today! So, uh, if everyone actually trying out for the Club today could raise their hands …?"

He and Issei raised their hands — as did three other girls in the Dojo. It seemed the others were just there to spectate, show support to their friends, or gawk at Kiba… which he probably should've expected.

Issei flushed a bit in the face as Murayame approached the two of them, her dark brown hair swaying behind her. She was definitely a beauty in her own right — and a little more endowed than her friend. He could practically feel Issei resisting the urge to stare — good. Shirou would've whipped him into shape right then and there if he acted out.

The girl stared at them with a slight hint of suspicion, probably as a result of the two stooges ruining everything, but no real hostility. She was probably just wondering if Issei and he were anything like Matsuda and Motohama. Judgement hadn't been cast yet, thankfully.

"Ano — Hyōdo-kun and Kōsetsu-kun, right?"

"U-Uh. Yes! I mean, yeah!" Issei responded immediately, stiffening up his posture like he was about to throw a military salute. Shirou sighed profoundly.

Murayame blinked — and then chuckled slightly, relaxing a bit. He figured she found his awkwardness a bit encouraging — Motohama and Matsuda were very… confident, in their perversion. (And so was Issei, normally. But the fear Shirou had put into his heart was doing good work.)

"No need to be nervous, Hyōdo-kun. I can see the two of you are wearing kendogi — I take it you're both experienced in Kendo?"

"Um," Issei started talking before Shirou could. "Kōsetsu is, but I'm not, really. I, ah, wanted to try out, so I asked Kōsetsu to help me with a few pointers and gear."

"He was a bit intimidated," Shirou piped in helpfully, ignoring Issei's betrayed look. "But he's been working hard the past week."

"Just a week?" She looked surprised. "He put his gear on quickly, so I figured he'd been at it for longer. I suppose you must've put him through the wringer, Kōsetsu-san."

"You have no idea," Ise grumbled, crossing his arms petulantly. Both Shirou and Murayame chuckled at this.

"Yeah, I gave him a bit of an intensive. He may be a little awkward, but he's really dedicated, senpai. I know those two might not have given you a good image of our group, but Ise's been working really hard. Please give him a shot."

Murayame blinked again — and then smiled.

"I was a bit worried you two were like those two menaces. I don't know why you both associate with them — you seem like good people. Alright — I'll pair Hyōdo-kun up with someone in his skill level, okay? What about you, Kōsetsu-san; you mentioned you have experience with Kendo?"

"Kendo and Kenjutsu, yeah." He replied. "It's been a while since I practised formally with someone my age, though, so I'm a bit worried I may let them bleed into each other a bit, or go a bit too fast. Do you think you could get me someone a bit more experienced? I wouldn't want to hurt anyone."

Before she could answer, though — a fourth voice entered the conversation.

"I can take him, if you don't mind, Murayame-san."

At once, the brunette blushed like a maiden, Issei scowled just a little bit, and Shirou felt the urge to sigh once again.

He'd been expecting something like this, frankly.

Yūto Kiba inserted himself into the conversation like it was trivial, approaching them with a kind smile and soft eyes. Just the sight of him made Murayame swoon a little, visibly and surely — frankly, it was a little freaky.

"I— Ah… are you sure, K-Kiba-kun?"

"Of course," he reassured her immediately, eyes taking Shirou in. "I also practice Kenjutsu a little, so I'll be able to respond a bit more appropriately. Plus, it's been a while since I've had a good match. You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not!" She replied immediately, which Shirou took to mean 'anything for you'. The next instant, she grabbed Issei by the wrist — sending the other boy into an internal crisis visible in his face — and dragged him away. "I'll leave you two to it! I-It's probably best if you two go last, though. C-Come on, Hyōdo-kun. I'll take you to Ayase."

As they watched the girl drag Issei away, sneaking glances at Kiba with a red face over her shoulder as she walked, Kiba took a step closer to Shirou.

"...He's not very good with girls, is he?"

— Damn. If even Kiba commented on it, it must be bad indeed.

"That's an understatement."

There was a moment of charged silence between them — between two boys who mistrusted each other profoundly. But Kiba broke it first, his voice tense.

"— I don't trust you," he murmured, just loud enough for Shirou to hear. "Buchō doesn't think you're an active threat, but I disagree. Having said that…" he furrowed his eyebrows. "...I understand you probably feel the same about us. And I still think you're planning something. But I don't think you were lying when we talked last time. You… were probably worried we'd go after your friend, right?"

Shirou stayed quiet.

"...We won't. Buchō looked into him the second you two enrolled — we know he's a normal kid. I don't trust you, and I'm going to find out what you're up to, but…"

"Yeah," he interrupted, getting the gist of it. Yūto wouldn't try anything. Neither would the others. They wouldn't stoop that low. "...Thanks."

They didn't speak any more after that.

Issei's match was the second to last.

The first few matches were pretty uninteresting, all in all; he watched, of course, and made note of each of the people trying out, but the majority had only paltry experience. They could be taught, and there might even be a hint of talent to be found among them, but circumstances being as they were, he couldn't really bring himself to feel invested.

When Issei's turn came, though, that changed quickly.

At the end of the day, he'd been set up against Ayase — the opposite of "in your skill level", frankly, but Shirou was confident his friend would be fine. From the sidelines, he'd watched as he and the girl stood opposite each other, her with a relaxed stance, him tense like nothing else. But his posture was good. Not perfect, but good.

"I'm just going to be testing you," Ayase told Issei before they began. "So don't worry about my experience, okay? I'll keep it beginner-friendly."

— Hoo, boy.

In a second, and on Murayame's signal, they began.

— Thwack!

Issei started with a quick slam of the shinai, powerful and almost precise, moving swiftly and without too many gaps. It was blocked swiftly, parried in a movement far more polished — but Shirou could tell Ayase was impressed, considering Issei had only been at it for a week. The redhead himself felt only pride.

It wasn't a long match — Kendo spars weren't meant to be. Quick, decisive, fast movements were the name of the game — and it was obvious Ayase held the advantage. Where Issei dominated her was in range and enthusiasm; there was the competitive spirit Shirou had seen in his friend when they started training.

Where Issei lacked experience or talent, he made up for with a surprisingly quick mind, and determination to spare. Nothing that happened deterred him, and he survived quick exchanges by the skin of his teeth, always just managing a proper parry or sidestep, then advancing anew. It was far from perfect — but it was clear he'd had some practice.

Back, forth, back, forth — parries and slams and slashes were quickly exchanged at increasing speeds. Ayase was indeed testing the boy, ramping up in skill and speed the more they fought, but Issei kept up in spirit even if in nothing else.

Then — Ayase overextended. It was probably on purpose; she was clearly keeping herself in check, and he'd noticed her tensing for counters she didn't throw quite a few times. But it was also a genuine mistake; he figured she'd been trying to tell if he was able to capitalise on an opportunity, and planned to block whatever he did.

Issei moved, eyeing her left shoulder with a quick overhead — then, in an instant, moved his hands just so, arcing the shinai overhead from the left to the right.

It landed decisively. The match was called.

— When his friend managed to land a winning blow on Ayase's shoulder, it was all he could do not to celebrate vocally. Sure, Ayase had been holding back, but … that was clever. Kōsetsu had been on the edge of his seat waiting for Issei to prove himself, and prove himself the boy had.

Ayase stepped back a few times after the hit, dazed — and then removed her helmet, smiling despite herself. She looked half as awed as Issei did.

"That was good, Hyōdo-kun. I can tell you're new at this, but still!"

"...I did it!" And there it was — the realisation dawning upon his perverted friend. He whooped in glee, a grin blossoming on his lips like a flower, and turned to Shirou with wide eyes. "Hey, Kōsetsu! Did you see that?!"

"Damn right!" He called out, ignoring Sona's disapproving stare at the mildly strong expression. "Well done, Ise! I told you you could do it!"

"Yeah!" The boy cheered, pumping his fist to himself. He then turned to Ayase, who'd been looking at him with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "Thanks, Ayase-senpai! Watch out, though — I'm gonna beat you for real one day!"

The girl blinked. So did Issei — probably realising a little late now that she had her helmet off that he was talking to a cute girl. He flushed a little, but the girl smiled.

"I'll be waiting for it, Hyōdo-kun."

From his side, Shitori-san hummed in mild approval. She looked every bit as stern as ever as she watched, but when everything was done, she looked at him appreciatively.

"You look rather proud, Kōsetsu-san."

He blinked.

Yeah — he was smiling pretty widely, wasn't he?

"Ah. Do I? I guess I do. I'm just happy. Ise might not look it sometimes, but he's really hard-working. He just needs something to bring it out."

"Hmm — Perhaps you could consider teaching as a career option, Kōsetsu-san. That prideful look suits you."

"Yeah, maybe…"

He didn't think so. It wasn't… hands-on, enough. He wanted to make a difference. He wanted to… it was hard to say.

He said nothing about that, merely preparing his shinai and grabbing the helmet he was to wear. He'd already put on the rest of the protective gear, so that was really the only thing left.

Seeing as he would be next, it was probably time.

A few feet away, he noticed Kiba do the same. Together, they walked onto the dojo centre as the others save for Murayame walked back to the edges and took a seat.

Their steps were both light. Their stances were both perfect. As he turned around to face his opponent, shinai held tightly in his hands, Kiba met him with a similar movement.

Murayame looked at them — really, at Kiba — with an interested gaze. Then she turned to him.

"You're sure about this, right, Kōsetsu-kun? I don't mean to scare you, but I don't think anyone here has ever beat Kiba-kun when he drops by."

"Yeah," he said. "I'm sure."

"Don't worry about it, Murayame-san," Kiba said at the same time. "I won't go too hard on him."

The girl hummed. "Alright, then… are you two ready?"

He nodded. Kiba did the same.

Murayame stepped back.

"—then. Begin!"

. . .

— Two enemies face each other in an empty dojo. They are both under scrutiny from an expected small crowd. They both know they and the other are capable of so much more than they can show — more strength, more speed, more skill.

It is to look like a bout between two normal boys. It is anything but.

'The main advantage Devils have isn't their strength or speed' — Anastasia had once taught him. 'It is the speed at which they think. Supernatural creatures have better instincts, faster thoughts, and keener senses. That's the main struggle Exorcists have to deal with — fighting and killing a superior opponent. A Stray might be impacted by their monstrous nature, but a proper Devil will always be a dangerous opponent.'

Hah.

Like he needed a reminder.

— Yūto exploded into sudden, precise motion.

In a single second, he'd identified the direction Kōsetsu would have the hardest time dodging and delivered a quick strike from the side aimed precisely there. It was not supernaturally fast nor strong — this was a Devil used to playing human. What was supernatural was his skill. Faster processing than any normal human could mimic allowed him decisiveness mere mortals couldn't fathom.

However —

Bang!

— His strike was easily parried to the side, his shinai struck quickly at the tip, the weak of the blade. It was almost impossible to keep a sword from moving when struck at the top half; shinai weren't exempt from that rule.

Understand — Kendo was usually a sport resolved in very few moves. Issei's bout earlier was an exception.

This one, too, would be.

"—Haah!"

He bellowed, as was traditional, and pushed an offence with a lightning-quick thrust that Kiba managed to dodge by stepping back just enough. He could tell Murayase had almost called it, but decided against it upon realising there had been no contact. Yūto stepped back a few times to bring a stop to his backwards momentum.

The two combatants resumed neutral stances, further apart from each other than they had been.

When facing an enemy that is faster than you, you need to get them out of their comfort zone. When facing an enemy that's better than you, you need to force them to make a mistake.

Shirou had no way to match a Devil's innate instincts or their speed of thought — none that wouldn't be instantly recognised as supernatural. But he has training. He had patience. And —

— [He'd had enough experience being outmatched.]

Shirou didn't give Yūto time to think. He didn't give himself time to think.

He advanced.

Strike, slash — he launched a sideways blow, then used the momentum of the parry Kiba had improvised to twist the sword overhead like Issei had and deliver a low arcing strike aimed at the thigh. When Kiba blocked that, he stepped to the left, into Kiba's guard, and tried to thrust in pretty much the same movement —

— But Yūto Kiba blocked with the thicker part of the shinai, pressing it against his strike to force him backwards.

Don't stop. More. He had to win. He had to impress.

— [After all.

A Hero is someone who cuts down his foes using everything he has.]

He advanced once again — twisting the shinai in a rather unusual way for the sport to go with the momentum, then countering Kiba's attempt to punish his flair that almost caught the boy in the head; it was only by quickly stepping back and giving up on his offense that the blond managed to 'survive' Shirou's strike.

He remembered a woman with the ferocity of a tiger. Remembered how bright her eyes had been as she had taught him. Remembered her pride as he had grown.

— He could emulate that, too.

More.

He advanced again — but this time Kiba met him head on. They struck quickly, aiming at each other's swords instead of at each other, then slid the shinais through the other's bamboo 'blades' to keep their strikes in fluid movement, only to find themselves locking blades yet again with another loud Thwack! They both had to simultaneously give up their chance at victory to block an incoming strike from the enemy.

Push — step back. Then rush back in.

— Devils were truly astounding.

He could tell by the way Yūto's eyes flickered underneath his helmet that the blond had already understood Shirou's plan, and had already pinpointed potential spots to strike at. He was fast, too, even when controlling himself; Shirou had to give up more strikes than he could count to block decisive and precisely targeted blows from Kiba's shinai.

But —

He let his sword hang low — baited the thrust. It came — Yūto stepped into his guard, trying for a decisive thrust that would be almost impossible to block.

Almost.

Shirou swung rapidly upwards with picture-perfect precision — the type of accuracy you could only find in experienced warriors. His shinai struck the guard of Yūto's own, a millisecond before the tip would touch him — and then, with all the force it had carried, forced the blade out of the boy's hands.

The shinai spun through the air a few times before landing loudly on the floor. Yūto was empty-handed, still extended like he'd finished a thrust. Silence consumed the room.

"—W-Winner, Kōsetsu Shirou-san!"

Cheers erupted across the dojo, some more reluctant than others. Issei whooped loudly; Sona and Gremory both clapped politely, looking at him in very similar curiosity. Everyone stared at him in awe — a very complex feeling he didn't know what to do with arose inside him. He didn't feel deserving of such gazes.

Kiba was silent. He resumed his normal pose, drawing his arm back, but his eyes under the helmet were wide — somewhere between livid and astounded. Shirou felt similarly, frankly.

The golden-eyes boy removed his helmet — revealing the sweat on his skin and the heavy breathing he'd been forced to engage in to his opponent. Even with his conditioning, this sort of bout was a lot of exertion.

"That was a good match, Kiba-san." He commented brightly, hoping to diffuse some of the tension that was now in the blond's posture once again. It worked — in a second, resignation replaced it.

It was a heavy feeling. Even Shirou, who wasn't the most empathetic person in the world, could tell. It was in the slight widening of his eyes, in something like shock – it was in the almost imperceptible trembling of his hand. Deep blue eyes took in his form, and for the first time, Shirou saw something there that wasn't rooted in mistrust or anger —

Shame.

"...Yeah," Kiba Yūto replied, sounding absolutely lost. There was a soul-rending emptiness to his tone that belied a dread Shirou couldn't have fathomed beforehand. "That… was very well done indeed. Congratulations."

… He didn't feel very victorious after that — He had seen eyes that empty once before.

— Once,

Shirou had stood against a foe that outmatched him like that, once.

The woman in the fire and flames. The woman clad in darkness. The woman who brought hell in her wake — A woman he thought he might have cherished deeply.

He had faced her alone. He had fought her on his lonesome. And —

[He remembered it.

He remembered her name in his final moments.]

He could not recall it now.