"Onii-chan? Onii-chan?"
Shirou awoke to Illya shaking his shoulder as vigorously as she could.
He groaned, turning to glance at the bright sun shining through his window. Either he was very late to school, or it was the weekend. The days had blurred together for him since he had awoken in this world. He had so much he needed to do that he hadn't bothered to keep too much track.
"Good morning, Illya-chan. What day is it?" Shirou rasped out, propping himself up on his elbow as he rubbed his eyes.
"Sunday," she responded. "Why, are you busy?"
He was, unfortunately. He had to talk to Kirei again. Shirou didn't quite know how to feel about talking to the priest again. Their last talk, he had spilled more than he thought he would. More than he intended to. Kotomine's reaction was…chilling.
He hoped he hadn't created a monster.
"Yeah, I am," Shirou told her, glancing down at Illya's head. "Sorry."
She responded with a massive dose of puppy eyes and a sad pout, and he couldn't resist patting her head.
"You're always busy, Onii-chan. You never play with me anymore," Illya huffed at him. He smiled down at her, trying to reassure her as best as he could. As sad as she looked, Shirou was glad the worst thing that happened to Illya here was just having an older brother that was being a bit distant. She had a good, happy life here. He never wanted her to lose it.
"I know, I know, but I've been really busy lately. Please forgive me?" Shirou pleaded with her. "I'll play with you after school someday this week, okay?"
Illya climbed into bed with him, snuggling up to his chest. He was always surprised how small she was.
"I'm worried, Onii-chan," she confessed, looking away from his eyes. "You're busy all the time now. I'm worried you're gonna go away a lot like Papa and Mama, and I won't see you anymore."
A melancholy pain pierced his chest. A good, happy life did not mean everything was perfect, and familial neglect was not something that a child would be subjected to.
"I come back every night. Should we spend time then? I can read you to sleep," he offered.
"Mm-hm," Illya nodded sullenly into his chest, seemingly mollified, but not entirely convinced. He frowned a bit. Deep, interpersonal relations were never his strong suit.
"Illya," he grabbed her attention. "I won't abandon you; I promise. You'll always hold a special place in my heart. And I know it's hard that Papa and Mama have to be gone all the time, but they do important things so that we can live happily. Our lives would be a lot harder if they weren't off working all the time, and I bet they think about us all the time when they're gone, just like we think about them, right?" Shirou gave her the warmest smile he could muster.
"Yeah," she pouted again, clearly just fishing for more attention rather than wanting to admit he was right.
"Come on, Illya," he sat up and scooped her up into his arms. "I still have some stuff to do today, but we can eat breakfast together. Do you want me to cook?"
"Yeah!" she cheered, grinning brightly.
"Come on then. Let me get dressed, and I'll be right down," he shooed her out of his room, smiling just as brilliantly.
He hoped Illya never lost that happiness.
Shirou stood outside the Kotomine church, waiting for its occupants to slowly filter out after service before he ventured inside. Breakfast with Illya had been uneventful but pleasant, just a simple affair of omurice, and he had left as soon as he washed off their dishes. He would have rather stayed and spent more time with his sister, but if he allowed himself to relax so soon, he worried his progress would be slowed, and every day he delayed was another day Sakura suffered.
He walked into the church with a heavy heart.
Kotomine Kirei turned to look at him as Shirou walked in. Recognizing who had just walked in, a small smile crept across his face.
"Emiya."
"Kotomine."
"Come with me," Kirei beckoned him, and he followed the priest into the far more barren backrooms of the church. They seemed very spartan, impersonal. The candles were an acceptable decoration, he supposed, but they seemed like they would look incredibly eerie at night, as if they would provide no warmth. Nothing in this church was comforting.
Shirou thought it rather suited Kirei.
The priest slipped past one of the plain, wood-constructed couches that sat opposite to each other, separated by a dark coffee table, and gestured for him to sit. Shirou took his place and waited for Kotomine to retrieve something from another one of the small back rooms, staring at the wall behind the couch.
He had half a mind to try to use Structural Grasping on the building, but he found himself remembering Archer's memories of the church and thought better of it. Either he would find nothing, and the exercise would prove entirely fruitless, or he would find something he really did not want to learn about.
Shirou was willing to bet on the former, but he was not willing to find out so soon.
I'll have to check after Sakura's saved.
He felt disgusted with himself for not wanting to know anything until his ally's usefulness had expired, but he didn't think he could rescue Sakura without Kirei.
The man returned with a very high-quality leather briefcase, bearing sturdy metal clasps and rigid steel supports, and set it on the table. The priest made no move to open the locked case, and Shirou was feeling rather impatient, so he tried to subject it to his Structural Grasping to view the contents, but the spell rebounded immediately. He learned nothing about the case's contents, and his arm now felt like it was being continuously pricked and pierced by a thousand needles.
Well, if there was ever a case to secure a holy artifact….
"Impatient, aren't you?" Kirei drawled, clearly amused.
"I assume that's the shroud?" Shirou asked back, not wanting to acknowledge Kotomine's question. He shook off his hand, trying to dull the pain as he slowly circulated od through the circuits in his arm.
"Indeed," Kirei confirmed. "I simply wish for a few questions of mine to be answered, first."
"Fine," Shirou acquiesced, his tone clipped.
"How did you find out I was empty? It is not something I have told anyone, and I cannot imagine my counterpart being different."
"You didn't tell me. I realized it when we last fought. You were so desperate to see the birth of humanity's annihilation, even if it meant you died as well, that you couldn't have been anything else. You were too focused on one grand goal, like me," Shirou summed up succinctly, not wanting to delve too into details.
"And how do you think I became such a person?" Kirei leaned forward a bit, his eyes trained on Shirou.
He shrugged. "I can guess, but I couldn't tell you for certain."
"Your best guess will suffice."
"Probably sometime during the fourth war," Shirou surmised. "It was fought to completion. Maybe something you learned or saw during the war convinced you to give in. Maybe it was some kind of conflict with Kiritsugu. I can only assume, though, since that's the biggest change between the timelines, from what I've gathered."
Kirei nodded, a bit more subdued now. He was probably a bit disappointed at Shirou's answer. Shirou couldn't really blame him.
"And if you are so single-minded as you claim, then how did I successfully convince you to abandon your dream?" the priest asked skeptically, shifting topics.
"You pointed me towards a more feasible outlet," Shirou explained. "I wanted to be a hero for everyone, but when it came down to the girl I loved or the rest of the world, I was stuck. I didn't know what to do. Then you pointed out that I could still be a hero just by saving her. I could be her hero. And I wouldn't be damning the rest of the world, so long as I succeeded in removing the corrupted grail from her before it was too late."
"That does sound somewhat reasonable," Kirei supposed.
"You mainly did it for your own benefit, since you needed Sakura alive to try and manifest Angra Mainyu," he responded desultorily. "It was the better choice, though. Trying to save the many over the dew would just end with me damning some people to save others. Those I loved were too likely to be among the condemned, and I'd end up trying to shoulder the weight of their deaths my entire life. I couldn't do that; it would destroy me. I needed to ground myself."
"Hm."
Silenced stretched across the room.
"I've done a bit more research on Emiya Kiritsugu," Kirei began again. "It seems his priorities shifted after his wife began to join him on his missions. Before, he frequented warzones, criminal hotspots and insurrection sites, often eliminating high-profile targets or assisting in paramilitary operations. Now, however, he works more closely with the Clock Tower, either assisting the Enforcers against apostles, or with known close associates of Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg on one of his endeavors. I assume that project has to do with the Holy Grail War."
"I'd imagine, but I haven't actually gotten a chance to talk to Kiritsugu here, and he assumes I don't know anything about the moonlit world. Emiya Shirou was supposed to be kept in the dark and live out as a normal human," Shirou explained.
Kirei nodded thoughtfully. "I see. What happened to the other Emiya Shirou when you arrived, then? Clearly you took over his body, but did your souls merge, or was his soul ousted?"
"Likely ousted or subsumed," Shirou grimaced. "I assume he either died just before I took his place, his soul was ejected and replaced when I awoke, or the soul transfer consumed his spirit entirely."
"A sensible estimation," Kotomine applauded him, his lips upturned just a bit at Shirou's displeasure. "And do you have any guesses as to why this Emiya Kiritsugu made such drastically different choices to the one you knew?"
Shirou sat back and thought for a while.
He had simply assumed that Kiritsugu had found out about Angra Mainyu early, and dismantled the Grail system from there, but changing his operations entirely? That was far from the Kiritsugu he knew. His father would have gone right back to his old ways if he found out the Grail was a monkey's paw, not simply back off and stick to the moonlit world with his wife. Maybe Kiritsugu still worked some anti-terrorist cases, but if his modus operandi had changed, then maybe….
Maybe he made the same choice I did.
After all, Shirou had no memory of an Irisviel von Einzbern.
"I think he might have changed, in a similar manner to me. He might have chosen his family over the world," Shirou breathed out barely above a whisper's volume, as if he were speaking sacrilege.
A full-blown smile overtook the priest's visage. "Well, now. That is interesting."
"Have you given any thought to my advice?" Shirou asked, trying to change the subject.
Kirei's grin faded. "I have. I have found no concrete answer or solution yet, but your idea is not without merit. I would wish to further discuss philosophies with you over time, so I might arrive at a surer answer. Perhaps I will invite you on my next assignment, should one arrive, and we may test your theory."
"Perhaps," Shirou responded half-heartedly. "Do you have any assignments at the moment?"
Kotomine shook his head. "No. I do not know when any missions will be delivered, either. All Executor missions are of immediate priority, and rarely ever sent out in advance. Only on larger missions involving multiple sects of the Burial Agency are we given missives in advance, so that we may coordinate and strategize beforehand."
"Missions are reactive and time-sensitive, then?"
"Incredibly so."
Shirou nodded, falling back into silence. As much as he disliked risking both Zouken's detection and his own chances of saving Sakura, a mission would help hone his magic at a pace that far outstripped training. A hunt or two might be the boost he needed, even if it was far riskier.
"I'll join you, but I want the shroud first," he demanded.
Kirei said nothing. With a single, fluid motion, he unlocked the briefcase and slid it over to him. Shirou wasted no time opening the well-crafted, expensive case, lifting its top to gaze upon the deep, saturated crimson cloth.
The Shroud of Martin was just as beautiful as he remembered.
He took it gingerly in his arms, before beginning to wind it around his left wrist and up his forearm. It fit comfortably, if a bit loose, but he would grow into it. For now, it accomplished what he needed it to, and if his Projection magecraft caused similar backlash to his body as last time, then this would help him suppress his reality marble's effects.
More importantly, Zouken would not be able to detect him as his magical presence grew.
"Thank you, Kotomine," Shirou expressed sincerely.
"In exchange, I ask for your contact information," Kirei requested. "So that I may inform you if I am granted a missive."
Shirou acquiesced, and the priest quickly fetched some writing materials for him. After taking the pen offered by the priest and writing down the number on a sheet of blank paper, Shirou slid the paper to the other end of the coffee table and stood up, refamiliarizing himself with the comfortable weight of the holy shroud around his arm.
"Thank you," Kirei took the paper gratefully, folding it up and slipping it inside his coat. "I will call if I require something of you. Do not hesitate to do the same."
Shirou did not acknowledge Kotomine's gratitude one way or the other.
"We'll talk again soon," he told the priest as he turned to leave, pulling open the door and stepping into the hallway.
"Indeed, we will," Kotomine responded.
He walked out of the room, not looking back at Kirei.
Shirou didn't have to see him to know he was smiling.
He was halfway to the Emiya estate when a black SUV with tinted windows rolled to a stop next to him. Shirou glanced over at the vehicle, noting the license plate. It was identical to the first SUV he worked on under the Fujimura group. Apparently, they had decided to track him down in-person instead of just calling him.
Is my phone off? Did I miss a call from them?
If so, he was almost certainly in trouble.
A bald man in a black suit and sunglasses stepped out of the front passenger's seat, before opening the rear door of the car, inviting him in.
"I didn't miss a call, did I?" Shirou tried to confirm.
"Fujimura-sama has asked us to retrieve you. He has a new job for you," the gangster replied, not answering his question.
Well, if Fujimura-sama didn't decide to just fire me, then it's probably something more sensitive. At least, I hope.
It would be very difficult to acquire that house deed if he was fired.
Shirou nodded to the man and slipped into the backseat of the car, sinking into the fine leather interior and enjoying the fresh scent wafting from the air conditioning. He could see why Raiga preferred this car.
Buckling his seatbelt, Shirou settled in for the drive.
No one spoke during the ride. Shirou could have slept through the entire drive and missed little. Once they arrived, he unbuckled his seatbelt and awaited his door to be opened. The yakuza had a particular way of doing things—a specific order of operations. If someone acted out when it was not their place or committed some other social faux pas, it could be taken as hostile intent. This was doubly true concerning meetings with high-ranking members. Shirou was not nearly in good enough standing with the Fujimura group to behave with anything but the utmost respect. They were still watching him like a hawk.
Raiga may have acted friendly to him over the past few weeks, but Shirou was sure the man subscribed to the philosophy of, "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."
Shirou had no doubt as to where he stood in that relationship.
As soon as the door was opened, Shirou slid out of the vehicle and followed the bodyguard at an even pace. They had led him back to the usual vehicle warehouse near the docks—not so near that he could feel the sea spray, but close enough that he could distinctly smell the ocean's salt.
The metal door was opened for him by the bodyguard, who gestured for Shirou to enter. He stepped inside the drab workshop and was mildly surprised at the lack of any sort of car upon the lift. Usually, Fujimura-sama or one of the higher-ranking members wanted some kind of upgrade or maintenance done on a car that they had brought in, and most of the time, everything was already set up and prepared for him.
He supposed that might have been because they didn't trust him, but he hoped that could change eventually. Regardless, all he could do was keep working hard.
"Fujimura-sama," Shirou bowed in greeting towards the clan head. "I apologize for the delay."
Raiga shook his head. "No need to apologize. This was a bit last minute," he said as he sauntered over to a sleek black and orange Suzuki cruiser motorcycle with a chic, dark brown leather saddlebag held closed by a chrome buckle.
Shirou was impressed. The paint job and saddlebag looked custom. Someone spent a lot of time making the bike look as good as it did. But if it was already custom, why did they want him to look at it? Were they just paranoid and asking him to double-check it, or was the paint job the only thing that was custom thus far, and they want him to upgrade the bike?
He couldn't imagine why they would want him to upgrade this. None of the Fujimura group would drive something so gaudy. They operated in black and muted, earthy colors. He might have guessed they were asking him to repaint it, but the paint job already looked custom, and while Raiga might have decided to get something for his personal collection, Shirou doubted it.
Once he made the connection, the answer clicked in his mind.
Ah, this is for Fuji-nee.
Shirou had to be careful about that nickname. If he let it slip in front of her grandfather, he would end up under serious suspicion.
"That's a very nice motorcycle," Shirou broached carefully. "Is it a gift?"
Raiga quirked an eyebrow. "Hoh? What makes you think I didn't buy it for myself?"
"Well, forgive my assumptions, but the paint job on this bike is custom, and you strike me as the type to prefer muted, natural colors over bright and loud ones. Feel free to correct me if I'm mistaken," Shirou answered, trying to be as respectful as possible.
"Perceptive," Fujimura mused. "Just like your father."
"Thank you, Fujimura-sama," Shirou replied, deciding not to tell his boss that he was adopted. He was sure Raiga already knew; he was the type to do his research on everything before he made any decisions.
"This is my granddaughter's motorcycle. She's had some driving troubles, so she wanted to see what was wrong, and see if she could get anything upgraded."
"Is she a fan of going fast?" Shirou asked neutrally.
"She's a real adrenaline junkie," Raiga told him. "Always wants to know what ways she can customize this thing."
"Hm," Shirou replied noncommittally. Stepping up to the motorcycle, he began to give it a quick once-over. He was experienced enough with motorcycles to spot obvious external problems without having to use his magecraft, and he didn't want to seem too suspicious under Raiga's close scrutiny, so he held off the Structural Grasping for the moment.
The engine seemed fine externally, there were no obvious problems, so it could be a fuel issue if Taiga wasn't driving it enough. Some fuel stabilizing fluid would fix that fairly easily, but he wouldn't know if that was the problem until he revved the engine himself. He kept looking, checking the exhausts, the supports, the drivetrain….
Ah. I see.
The chain had become loose on the drivetrain, and it looked like it could use a replacement. Whoever had made this chain had not checked it over for imperfections, Shirou noted as he looked up and down the various grooves and pockmarks across the links that likely shook the chain loose.
"This chain will need to be replaced," Shirou pointed out to his boss. "I don't know how significantly a good chain will affect performance, but a high quality one will probably be able to take a lot more abuse without any serious damage."
"Anything else?" Raiga asked him, nodding as he peered over Shirou's shoulder. He kept looking.
"Yeah," he responded when he finally found something. "The brake pads are starting to become a little worn, I suggest looking at replacements for those as well. High-quality ones, if they're going to be used aggressively."
Raiga nodded thoughtfully, scratching his chin.
Shirou didn't like this at all. Raiga was cunning and paranoid, almost as paranoid as Kiritsugu, from what Kotomine had told him of his father. The Fujimura head certainly did not see Shirou as a friend yet, so why reveal his granddaughter's existence to someone he didn't trust? That was such a crucial weakness of his, and with how carefree and adventurous Taiga was, it would be impossible to protect her at all hours. It would be easy to take her hostage and demand anything he wanted from the Fujimura group.
The gears clicked in his head.
Is that what he's counting on? Is he trying to bait me, to see if I can connect the bike to the person and try to kidnap her? Giving me what looks like an easy rope to climb?
He supposed the plan was a bit simplistic, but against a twelve-year-old, it was probably a solid idea. Raiga probably assumed he was working under his father and was seeing if Kiritsugu was using him to betray or gain leverage against the Fujimura group.
He supposed the only thing he could do was not take the bait, and just work normally.
"Do you mind if I start it? I want to make sure the fuel and battery are in good condition," Shirou requested. Raiga nodded, taking a step back from the motorcycle. He snagged the key hanging off the handlebars, inserted it and twisted.
The engine started without a hitch. He quickly activated Structural Grasping, trying to cover anything suspicious with the sound of the bike's rumbling engine. Nothing was specifically wrong with the engine parts beyond a normal amount of wear from driving it. Taiga clearly cared for it well. The battery was still in working condition as well, and nothing would be going wrong anytime soon unless Taiga accidentally crashed it.
Given how she drove her scooter, it might be more likely than he would prefer.
"Everything seems to be in good condition. Just get replacements for the chain and brake pads and it'll work great again," Shirou told his boss, shutting off the motorbike and stepping away from it.
"And are there any upgrades that you would suggest?" Fujimura asked him with a raised eyebrow and a sharp look. Shirou blinked. The question felt more important than Raiga was letting on, for some reason. Shirou figured it might be some kind of test, but he couldn't begin to decipher what that test might be.
He supposed honesty was still the best policy.
"No, not really," he shook his head. "Everything else seems to work fine, and Fuyuki's has a lot of sharp, narrow turns and not a lot of long, straight roads. Too many upgrades and the acceleration might end up causing the driver to take a turn too quickly and possibly crash."
"You think so?" Raiga asked him almost challengingly.
"If you want my honest opinion, I think motorcycles are pretty dangerous to drive in Fuyuki. I doubt my dad would let me get one unless we moved farther out to the countryside. Something like a motorized scooter would probably be a lot safer for driving in Fuyuki."
Raiga stared at him for a while, not saying anything. Shirou realized he may have made a faux pas expressing his thoughts so freely, and quickly bowed.
"My apologies, Fujimura-sama. I spoke too freely. I did not mean to, and it will not happen again."
Fujimura smiled, just a little. "Don't apologize, brat. You spoke well. You've got a good head on your shoulders. I wish my granddaughter were that concerned about her own safety," he grumbled.
"Alright, thank you, then. Is there anything else you need?" Shirou asked.
"Not right now. Keep your phone on, though, one of my men will call you if I do."
"I understand. I'll be heading home, then."
Raiga nodded his assent, still looking at the bike, and Shirou turned to leave. As he reached the door, though, the guard refused to open it for him. He stared at the bald man, whose eyes were obscured by his sunglasses, giving no insight as to the emotions of the man behind them. Shirou glanced back to Fujimura, about to ask why the man's subordinate refused to let him leave, and he noticed that Raiga had a finger extended into the air, his back still turned to Shirou.
"One more thing, brat," Fujimura-sama called out to him, his tone heavy. There was no joviality to his voice. "I've heard a few reports of missing kids around the city in the past week. Apparently they've all disappeared after school, never arrived back home. You seem like the real nosy type, so just watch your back out there."
The man never looked up from the motorcycle.
"Do you think it's abduction?" Shirou asked.
"It could be. I don't know."
"…I'll be careful," he assented after a moment's pause. Raiga nodded, apparently satisfied, and waved his hand dismissively. The yakuza member opened the metal door without a word, and Shirou set out back to his family's home. The sun was still bright out, and he could have used the time to continue rebuilding his estate or practice his magecraft more, but Raiga's words unsettled him, and he decided to forego both for now, so he could spend some more time with Illya.
He did not know whether his decision was due to paranoia, genuine desire to spend time with his sister, or the guilt of ignoring her due to his plans as of late. Perhaps it was some combination of all three. It felt kind of horrible to admit that to himself.
I really am a terrible brother, aren't I?
The sun's warmth granted him no comfort as he walked home. Hopefully, spending time with his sister would cheer him up again. It was always a joy to see her smile. Shirou picked up the pace, resolving to spend the rest of the day relaxing and accompanying Illya. As much as he wanted to save Sakura, he couldn't just abandon his family. He still could not bear to see them sad, especially if he was the cause of it. Shirou may no longer be a hero of justice, but he could still be a hero to his family.
Besides, he could always sneak out and practice at night.
With his mood lightened, Shirou ran the rest of the way home, enjoying the wind on his face.
He never could have known that three days later, Mitsuzuri Ayako would be declared missing.