Fate/EMIYA

[Augustine]

Table of Contents:

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30



This is the second Fate fic that I'm writing. Unlike my previous one, Gilgamesh Tries his Hand at, this is serious, and will probably end up pretty depressing.

It follows Shirou during his time as a Hero of Justice after the 5th Grail War, and will chronicle the shattering of his ideals. Interspersed will be flashbacks to the War itself, which is from a route of my own creation. There will be mood whiplash. Quite a bit of it in fact. As with Gil Tries, I will post a chapter a day until its caught up. I just started this, so you'll see my latest chapter soon probably.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Prologue

A Hero of Justice.

All those years ago, that's what I swore I would become. Someone who can protect the weak. Someone who can save everyone from death and pain and suffering. I made that promise to my father and myself on the night that he died. I promised him that I would see his dream through to the end, because he was too old to do it himself. I studied and trained and risked my life to fulfill it.

I succeeded in a way. I saved people; hundreds of people with no material gain in sight. My only reward, the only thing I wanted, was that smile of someone whose been saved from their Fate. I know that smile all too well. It's the same smile my father wore on the day that he saved me. I've seen hundreds of faces exactly like Emiya Kiritsugu's. Yet, despite my efforts, hundreds never live to see the day their lives change for the better.

It tore at me inside. I was a hero, and yet lives slipped through my fingers as easy as water. Instances where I was unable to help soon began to outnumber those where I could, and every day I wished that I could just be a bit stronger. So I made the pact. In order to save lives that I couldn't, I made an agreement with an entity that most of humanity doesn't even know exists. With its help, my dream had come true. Suddenly I had the power to protect every person in my sight, and when I died it was with a smile. I knew that I had done my best.

I died prepared to live up to my end of the bargain and I descended into a hell of my own creation. I had always expected to be betrayed by others, it was the Fate that I couldn't avoid, but I was never prepared to have my ideal spat on again and again, until nothing but despair and hopelessness remained.

This is my story; the story of a man, who more than anything else, believed in his ideal, and was betrayed by it, driving him into despair.

Fate/EMIYA

[blitz1/2]

I read it on FFN, I say it has a potential good start. Keep up the good work.

[Augustine]

Chapter 1

My eyes opened to the sunlight creeping through the broken window above me. At one time, I'd be tempted to roll over and try to block it out, but those days had long passed. With the rising sun would come the heat of the day, up in the nineties Fahrenheit even this early. It wasn't a stuffy, humid heat like some sort of south Asian jungle. This was the heat of desert, and it hit like a hammer. Without a groan or complaint, I climbed out of my sleeping bag and met the day with a smile. I'm a hero after all. People don't want to see a hero frown.

The room was nothing to speak of, and it was a far cry from the house of my father, Emiya Kiritsugu. Instead of a nice tatami floor, my sleeping bag was laid over wet concrete and broken plaster. The wallpaper was almost nonexistent, and about twenty years ago it was probably red. Maybe this was a child's room, or a couple's. I didn't know anymore. This apartment was a microcosm of this country at large, ownerless.

There was one thing I tended to do at the beginning of big days. I reached into my duffle bag that was resting on the broken counter and took out the two items that I treasure the most. The pendant went around my neck, and for a moment I clutched it with my right hand. It was still warm, and even though it was dangerous to wear a ruby red necklace openly, it was a gift from the girl who saved my life, and the woman I respect the most in this world. The second was a picture that came out of a manila folder. It was faded, and frayed at the edges but I could still see the pair clearly. Two girls, smiling mischievously at the cameraman with a high school gate as the backdrop. They had just graduated and were showing off their diplomas. One was the girl that gave me my pendant, Tohsaka Rin. The other was the girl that I used to love.

It hit me then that I may in fact still love her. I'm first to admit that I have no real concept of self, so love is hard to recognize. Still, my chest hurt a bit when I saw the way her light brown hair framed her eyes, and the smile that was so similar to that of the girl next to her. I used to think that they practiced it. They were best friends after all. I guess I did love her. When I thought about my future, after becoming a Hero of Justice the next thing I wanted to do was return to Japan and marry her. That was assuming she still loved me. There was little chance that she still cared for the man that disappeared for years at a time, even with the explanation I gave her. She was a strong willed girl, and I expected that she had already moved on entirely. I put the picture in the back pocket of my dark pants and finish getting dressed. For today, I had set out my usual attire for this line of work. A dark button down shirt with a Kevlar tactical vest, as well as an earpiece and dark sunglasses was put on with practiced efficiency. I was sure my father would be proud. I wore a utility belt as well, filled with high tensile strength wire, binoculars, flares, and a variety of blades and grenades. A pack on the back held a folded red coat that I only wear during the worst possible weather.

The next room was my armory of sorts. I opened the door that was missing a hinge and moved into what I think used to be a bathroom. The mirror was in pieces and a thick layer of grime covered everything. The faucets didn't work, but that was to be expected. Nothing worked in this city. My weapons were in the shattered bathtub. The self-loading handgun was strapped to my right leg and the assault rifle, an AKS-74 with a skeleton stock, was slung over my shoulder. Rin always told me that it wasn't fitting for a magus to use weapons like these. She always said that I should rely on my magic. Unfortunately though, my projection was less than adequate to deal with the human problems that a hero of justice faced all too often. Maybe if I could project freely, I'd be able to keep from killing people who threaten the weak. Maybe my power would be able to really save everyone, and not just those within my sight.

I smiled at myself in the broken mirror, as reassuring myself that I would reach that ever-distant dream. If you saw a picture of me in my high school days, you'd never recognize me now. My hair was losing its color and my skin had become dark, though I'm not sure if it was from this heavy sun or thaumaturgical overuse. My eyes were still mine, and so was my smile though. I had a reason to smile. Recently I had finally realized the identity of the Red Knight, that nameless Archer from so many years before. I knew I could become a Hero of Justice because, without even knowing it, I had met Heroic Spirit Emiya. I couldn't know this for sure, but when I looked into the mirror now, it was that man that looked back at me. I just had to keep going. I knew I could do it because I already had.

I heard the sounds of the morning, gunfire of all sorts. Firefights in the street were a daily occurrence here. There was no president, government or even a police station. A vicious warlord ruled and the governments of the world were content to watch on without acting. Still, a few weeks ago the United Nations ordered that aid be delivered, and today that aid was coming here.

There was a problem though. The warlord in charge of this run down city would definitely try to take the food and medicine for himself. With the arms dealers that arrived daily, he had his own personal militia. In the close confines of the city, the UN forces would be drawn into a meat grinder. I had tried to arrange a meeting with him a few days ago. I had planned to attempt to convince him that he would have a better chance at remaining in power if he treated the people well, but all I got was a savage beating from some of his men. If I hadn't reinforced my body, I might have died then and there.

Now I was left with a single option. I could trust the UN to disperse the aid well if the warlord's leadership was fractured. So, to save the innocent, two guilty men needed to meet their end. The warlord and his second in command needed to die. I had their pictures laid out on the rusted table in the kitchen. It didn't bother me. I knew all along that I wouldn't be able to get by without killing. When I'm too weak to even project ten times a day, there's no way I could survive with that alone. So every day I worked harder. I practiced my magecraft in hopes of strengthening my circuits. One day I'd be able to do it all without any deaths, but not today. I just hoped two was all it took.

I moved to the door of the apartment, and had to correct myself when I started to think of it as 'mine'. It wasn't, and I knew it. I put on a cap as I prepare to leave. People with guns on their shoulder were common, but foreigners weren't. It would be best not to get spotted until I got closer. I opened the door and walked into a rusted jungle of sweat and gunsmoke. I stepped down the hall towards the stairs as a woman dragged her child inside with a fearful look on her face. I gently nodded to her and smiled at her son with closed eyes.

"It'll be ok," I said in their language, but I wasn't sure she understood. As a Japanese man, some languages were harder to grasp than others, and that one was basically gibberish to me.

The hall on this floor hadn't been cleaned in months. Trash was starting to pile up and most doors had broken locks. Thievery was all too common, but usually not out of malice. Most people were just trying to survive. It would all be different soon. Once the hero dealt with the villains, everyone would live happily ever after.

I was down the stairs in a flash, stepping over addicts passed out and people beaten nearly to death. I stopped to patch up a man whose been stabbed. He pleaded with me to save his family as I wrapped his wound with white gauze. They'd been taken by the warlord. I smiled, and told him I would. Then he asked me who I was.

"The good guy," I said. It was best to reply that way. I never tell people why I fight. Telling them my name would only make them more suspicious of me.

The street was unpaved, and the dust swirled everywhere. I tucked my pendant under my shirt and wrapped a cloth over my mouth. I looked like the classic "Operator" that always appeared in American action movies. As I crossed the street bustling with twelve year old cars and screaming women I switched on my earpiece. It had multi-channel functionality and could tap into different networks at the same time. With this, I could simultaneously listen to the warlord's men and to the UN forces that were approaching fast.

Across the street was a bazaar. The already sweltering heat was trapped under the overhangs, creating a crowded oven that I've never been able to adapt to. I gently pushed past dozens of unemployed civilians. Thousands were homeless and many more didn't have food to eat, much less feed their children. They wore rags and desperately bartered for what they could with the scraps they scavenged in the massive junkyards that circle the city. It made me wonder how this city remained in one piece. True human nature was at work here. People, for the most part, worked together to stay alive. The warlord's men would crack down on people hoarding food, so the citizens spread it out and hid it. Some stole, some murdered and some raped, but the people here were still good, just like everywhere else. They deserved better than the hand they were dealt.

Ahead of me was the edge of the warlord's domain. There was a distinct gap between the bazaar and the chain link fence. Guards stood at one of the gaps in the wall, fingers on the triggers of their old AK model weapons. The civilians kept their distance, furtively glancing at the soldiers. They knew that the guards may open fire at any time. While I call them soldiers, the reality is far different. They wear no uniform or badge. They don't follow the rules of war, and they make this city a living hell for those that live here. Most of the crime in the city was actually caused by the warlord's guards. They did it for fun, and loved the power they held over the people.

They looked past me at first, thinking that I was one of them. The clothing did it really. Not many people wore tactical vests, so they must have thought I was one of the higher ups. It was too late when they noticed my hair. Before they could react, the first was already falling. My open palm had struck him on the point of the nose, cracking the bone and spraying blood everywhere. He fell, blinded and in pain. The second was barely able to raise his rifle when my fist hit him square in the throat. He gasped for breath that would not come, and my next punch knocked him out entirely.

I drew a single edged knife from my belt. It was certainly easier just to use weapons I had on me. Through these dark alleys lay the way to the hotel. It was probably the single nicest place in the city, and rumors had it that the warlord himself resided there. Of course, I knew better than to trust rumors. I had confirmed his presence personally. I moved at a full sprint towards the building in the distance. There were guards stationed every hundred meters or so, but I managed to avoid most of them. They weren't well trained and were more worried about their next meal than a threat to their boss.

As I got closer to the hotel, something slammed into me from the side. I was knocked from my feet and rolled to escape heavy blows that followed me. I rose with my knife in a defensive posture, ready to take on any attacker. One of the guards, barely a kid, was swinging at me with what looked like a cricket bat. He was scared, and I empathized with him. I was in a hurry though, and didn't have time to talk him down. He swung again and I ducked under it. As I got close, I stabbed my knife into his calf and slammed my fist into his groin. I've done this dozens of times. It's not crippling, won't cut an artery, and hurts like hell.

"Stay still," I said before I ran on. The alley quickly opened up to a large parking lot. In modern cities, it would probably be filled with luxury cars. Here the only things parked were wrecks. They were scattered about, some burning. The smell of petroleum was thick in the air. Still, it was open ground and I moved fast. There were four guards at the door of the hotel. One of them saw me as I approached and let loose a burst from his assault rifle. The bullets hit all around me, but none struck home. I ripped the handgun off my leg and fired accurate shots. They landed around the guards' legs, and as I expected they broke and ran. They weren't disciplined in the slightest.

I pulled a tear gas grenade from my belt as I entered the hotel. I tossed ahead of me and the soldiers playing cards at the front desk scattered like roaches threatened with Raid. I fired two bullets into the wall to convince them to remain elsewhere. A burst of fire came at me from an open door nearby I ducked behind the front counter and waited it out, clenching my teeth as the bullets hit the metal and wood shielding me. Then I stood and emptied my pistol at the doorway. The return fire ceased, but I wasn't sure if I had just scared him off or if he had run out of ammunition entirely. For a second, I was concerned about the safety of the guards, but that quickly passed. I might have been willing to save the lives of my enemies, but I wasn't stupid.

I checked my surroundings as I reloaded. The hotel was nice, nicer than I had expected. A fine rug covered the floor and the ceiling was tiled. The lights were all working and the elevator seemed to be in order as well. Only a stupid attacker would take the elevator though, and I turned left and right looking for the stairs. To the right was a marble staircase, and I made my way towards the top floor. Suddenly I was under intense fire. Someone below must have radioed upstairs. Militiamen poured fire at me from behind stone pillars above. I ducked behind a pillar of my own. The fire was too intense for me to lean out and observe, much less return it. This was bad. If I didn't move, I would be surrounded and gunned down. Even now they could be rallying below. I heard footsteps coming down towards me and instinctively raised my pistol. A militiaman nearly walked past me, and before I could react, I had unconsciously pulled the trigger twice. He cried out as the bullets tore through his chest. He coughed blood and fell, rolling down the stairs. The militiamen above opened fire again, but it was less confident now. I leaned out and emptied my pistol at them. One was shot through the leg, and nearly fell. At the last moment his comrade in arms grabbed him and pulled him to safety. Then that man was struck in the hand. His scream echoed in the narrow stairway. His fingers had basically exploded, spraying blood and bits of bone everywhere. By now the accumulated blood had begun to drip down the white marble stairs, staining it dark red and making for slippery footing.

I took my chance here. Ten feet up on the other side of the stairway was a door. Before anyone could react, I had reached it and kicked it down. Beyond lay a long hallway, carpeted with the same maroon found in the lobby below. I sprinted down the hall. Every twenty feet or so was a door of dark wood, flanked by two exquisite lamps. Ten yards ahead, one of them opened, revealing a shirtless man loading an assault rifle. Before he could even lock the magazine in I had dropped him with an elbow to the face. I didn't even break stride as I charged the other end of the hallway. The door there opened and two men rushed in. Behind them I could see another stair, my ticket to the Warlord's room. These two were ready though, guns loaded and aimed. I was faster though. I fired my pistol, dropping one with a pair of shots to the chest, and the other with a lucky hit to the temple. I cursed as I passed their bodies. I had already achieved a higher body count than what I had hoped for.

I leaped out the hallway and began sprinting up the stairway once more. My handgun was out of magazines, so I quickly holstered it and unslung my assault rifle. A door opened a few steps up and a soldier stepped out, only to get the muzzle slammed into his stomach. As he fell, I stomped down on his knee to incapacitate him. A light fixture near my head shattered as more gunfire erupts from above. One of the shards slashed my forehead as it passed, and I quickly wiped away the blood before it could blind me. It stung, but wouldn't be crippling. I fired a wide burst from the hip, striking one of the militiamen in the shoulder. As the others dove for cover, I advanced with rifle raised. They looked up to see the barrel of my assault rifle and immediately cover their heads with their hands. They were in bad shape. Most didn't even have a single spare magazine, and their arms were so thin it looked like I could snap them by squeezing too hard. The warlord here starved his own men as well as the civilians. It was sick.

"You guys keeping a family here?" I growled. One of the men, boys really, nodded and ran into a nearby room before leading out a woman and child. The militiamen looked as scared as their hostages. The child looked at me with wide eyes. He had probably never seen a foreigner before. The mother tried not to look at anyone too closely, and simply kept a firm grip on her child's hand.

"Get the hell out of here. It's not safe!" I yelled to no one in particular as I ran further up the stairs. I hoped they decided to listen to me. This life wasn't their fault. Militiamen like them are always scarred on the inside and out. They were broken, and it scared me to think that if I were born somewhere else, it could have happened to me.

I crested the top of the staircase, and immediately stumbled backwards as something struck my chest. It felt like I got hit by a steam powered piston, and I barely avoided falling back down the stairs. I clutched my chest as pain spiked through me. I had a broken rib, definitely, maybe two. The bullet that hit me was only stopped by the tactical vest I wore. With only a second to aim and with such low quality weapons, these guys were either really lucky or really good. In the five seconds it took me to reload my rifle, I'd made a decision. There was no way the personal guards of the warlord were hired guns. These guys worked with him every day, and knew exactly what kind of man they were dealing with. It left me with little choice. I switched the weapon to semi-automatic fire and spun out of cover.

There were two men using the wide double doors at the end of the hall as cover. I fired twice, but they simply ducked back and avoided the shots. I continued to shoot as I advanced. If I could keep them pinned, then I could close and kill them. I advanced, firing slowly, but enough to make them keep their heads down. I approached, and as soon as I saw the first one, I dropped him with a shot to the chest. The other reacted, but my limbs were flowing with prana. The last shot in my magazine punched through his forehead and splattered the wall with his brains. He hit the ground with a loud thump as I reloaded. I advanced carefully, panning the rifle around to search for more targets. Two more men opened fire at me, and I felt my vest struck twice more. One round glanced off my rifle and I quickly dropped it in reflex I rolled forward towards them as bullets struck all around me. I ripped the knife from my belt and threw it. One of the men cried out as it pierced his shoulder, and by then I was standing. An image formed in my head, and I concentrated my magic.

"Trace. On." I said as two blades appeared in my hands. They were opposites and twins at the same time, Kanshou and Bakuya. The favorite swords of the Red Knight had become my favorite weapons as well. They were easy to make, and easy to maintain. When I first projected them, they felt as natural as could be, like I had forged them myself. I breathed out, and the first sweep with the swords killed one of the men that shot me. The twin blades ripped across his chest in a heartbeat. The other struggled with my knife. It was protruding from his arm, but as I turned towards him, he drew a revolver and emptied it at me. Four of the shots missed, one glanced off the white sword in my left hand, and the last grazed my left thigh, drawing a spurt of blood. Bakuya punched through his ribcage in an instant. Then I breathed out and allowed the weapons to dissipate The two swords shattered like a broken window, disappearing into nothing.

The room was quiet, and I reached down to up one of the assault rifle's that was scattered across the ground. It was an AK-74, a lot like the gun I had brought with me. A bit old, but it would do. I raised my head suddenly as I heard a clatter from the right side of the room and turned to find a man pointing a gun at me with shaking hands. I calmly turned the assault rifle towards him and his shaking increased for a split second before he dropped the weapon. He crawled backwards until he ran out of room to flee, and curled into the fetal position to protect himself from me. The sight of a white haired man covered in blood must have terrified him.

"Please spare me!" He begged. "I'll give you anything you want! Money, weapons! Women?"

"I don't want any of that," I said. His face fell and his mouth opened. I didn't let him speak again. His body jerked as the heavy rounds tore through his chest and embedded themselves in the bed drawers behind him. Then he slumped to the side and gave out a final sigh. His chest pumped blood, staining the beige carpet crimson.

I quietly looked over the room. It was of a quality that even the most successful salarymen couldn't afford. Money and expensive drugs were stacked on the bed and the dresser was covered in jewelry and fine suits. It was finery that no one else in this country could even dream of. All this had been wasted on a murderer and a coward.

"You killed him!" came a shout from the bathroom. I turned quietly and immediately recognized the man that was standing in the doorway The rat-faced man before me was the second in command I had researched. He had advocated "culling" the population to keep order. I would hear none of his nonsense. I pulled the trigger twice more and nodded quietly to myself as his body fell back onto the tile floors. He was still twitching, coughing blood all over his front. I fired again, and the twitching stopped. It wasn't cruelty. Even an evil man doesn't deserve to suffer.

There was a radio on the dresser, probably used to give long ranging orders from the safety of the hotel. I dropped the rifle and began fiddling with the channels before eventually finding the one I wanted.

I cleared my throat and spoke, "Attention, your leader is dead. Lay down your weapons and return to your everyday lives. There is no reason to fight anymore." I said it all in the country's tongue. Hopefully it would discourage more resistance.

As I walked down the stairs, the militiamen that I had spared watched me go. There was no reason for them to try to avenge their boss. Maybe they would take my announcement to heart.

"What do we do now?" asked one of them. He was no more than fifteen, just a child. His eyes were like mine back then. He was empty, without a purpose in his life.

"Burn this building to the ground." I said. Nothing good could come from anything inside, not the money, not the drugs, not the weapons. "Burn it to the ground and help each other out, not as soldiers, but as people."

I didn't know if they understood, but I left without another word. My earpiece was crackling.

"Task force two," said a voice, "approaching the outskirts of the city. No hostile contact."

I smiled and broke into a run, moving as fast as my wounded body would carry me. I pumped prana into my limbs, reinforcing them as best I could. I had only projected once today, after all. In thirty minutes I managed to reach the large junkyard on the city's east side. From atop an industrial crane, I watched the armored vehicles enter the city to meet no resistance. I couldn't hear a single gunshot. As the sun reached its highest point, I smiled quietly. How many people had I saved today? A hundred? A thousand? Fifty thousand? I wasn't there yet, but I was getting close.

My name is Emiya Shirou, and today is November 8th, 2010.

[Augustine]

This chapter is my most current chapter, so unfortunately it may be a week or two before the next installment. Still, I hope you all enjoy it. Any comments or criticisms are welcome, naturally!

Chapter 2

South America; that is where I am now. A country in the north was having trouble dealing with the massive drug cartels that are working in the mountains. The military and police didn't have the firepower or the numbers to dislodge them, and the effects of the market were spreading through the entire region. This new drug they had manufactured was highly addictive and was destroying the country's livelihood and workforce. If someone didn't do something, the nation would collapse into poverty so deep it would never recover. It's fallen to me to deal with the cartel, and eliminate the manufacture and sale of this new drug. It's not something I was asked to do, but something I needed to do.

I leaned over the edge of the building, watching the street below with vague disinterest before checking the watch on my right arm. It's eleven A.M. I spent the last week scouring hideouts in this town. I raided every single cartel safehouse and base of operations, looking for information. I didn't find any, but I got something better. I left every man I disabled in front of the police station, and the sheer amount had attracted the attention of some of the cartel's higher ups. One of the biggest leaders was coming here today to put his foot down. If my intel was right, he would arrive in thirty minutes.

The building I sat on lay on the main street of the town. I sat on the parapet, pressing my back against a large column that supported another decorative ceiling above me. I looked down to my right at the compound bow that sat propped against the lip of the beige stone. I couldn't afford an rocket propelled grenade launcher, but with my projection, this would do fine. I checked my watch again. The kingpin would come down this street in a convoy soon. I was sure the sight of dozens of people clearing the street would alert me to the motorcade's presence, but it didn't hurt to be sure. My other weapons lay next to the bow. My pistol, the same I wore in Africa last November, was there with four mags of ammo, and my new assault rifle was next to it. It was an Israeli Galil with a skeleton stock. I blew my budget on it when I was last in Eastern Europe. That white haired arms dealer pretty much robbed me.

Today I also wore my red coat. It's a Holy Shroud, given to me by a member of the Burial Agency. While its purpose is to protect me from hostile environments, it has become a symbol in the past few months. This coat spells ruin for those that stand in its path. I liked what it stood for. Villains that fear justice will know my approach. While it's not bulletproof, my Kevlar underneath will protect me from most small arms.

Something caught my eye from the street, and I looked down. A police officer with a few of his friends out to lunch. It reminded me of something unpleasant, and I scowled. The police in this area, while happy to arrest the criminals I threw at their doorstep, were also unhappy that a so-called vigilante was roaming their streets. There was an order out to arrest me on sight, and I've been in more than one scuffle with police. Thankfully, I was able to avoid using lethal force in all confrontations.

I tested the string of my bow after checking my watch again. It was almost time, and I begin to control my breathing. Suddenly, my phone rang, and my concentration shattered. I pulled out my battered cell phone that was outmoded by eight years and checked the caller ID. It was an international number, one that I recognized. In a situation like this, one would not usually take a phone call, but I needed to make an exception here. I flipped it open and put it to my ear.

"Hello?" I said in Japanese.

"Shirou, it's good to hear your voice," said a voice that I myself had not heard in a long time. I was surprised, she wasn't yelling at me like she did a year ago. She actually sounded happy, and I felt the same.

"Rin," I breathed, "I'm glad you called. It's been a long time."

Tohsaka Rin and I have been friends for a long time. While it used to be "Emiya-kun" and "Tohsaka" between us, we've grown a lot closer over the years. I can safely say that I trust her with my life.

"Yeah it has been a long time you idiot!" she yelled, and I pulled the phone away from my ear quickly. That was more like the Tohsaka Rin I know.

"How's England?" I asked, "How's teaching?"

She laughed sharply, "The weather's great! Teaching with Lord El-Melloi II while you're running around the world playing Hero is nice as well. Heck, even he gets to go on adventures occasionally."

I smiled at her words. "Are you worried about me, Rin?"

There was a long pause, and I frowned. Normally I'd expect her to call me an idiot for insinuating such a thing, but she didn't, and after a moment she spoke again.

"Yes, I am." Her voice was quiet, almost inaudible. "I want you to come back."

Rin is the only person in the world that knows everything about me. After the War, I promised to never keep secrets from her. So I told her everything; my past, my dream, my plans. At first she used call every week, but they came less and less often over time. This was the first time I've spoken to her in eight months.

"Rin," I said, "You know I can't."

There was a crack in her voice, and I felt terrible all of a sudden. "Please," that was all she could say.

"Rin, I can't let these people suffer like this. I can't let them cry and wither away without their dreams seeing the light of day."

Suddenly her voice changed tone. She pleaded with me, "Shirou, why can't you see past the people around you? There are people who know you, people who love you, that haven't seen you in years, and it's all because you're out helping people that mean nothing to you!"

"Rin," I replied, "If I don't help them, who will?"

I'm a lot like my father. I put the happiness of others before my own happiness, and as a result, the people closest to me suffer for it. I hate that Rin and the others can't smile, but I can't stand the idea of the masses suffering either. So I do what I can, until the day comes where I can be a true superhero and no one will have to be sad anymore.

"What about me Shirou? Where are you when I'm crying?"

"Please, Rin, you know I'll be back soon."

"When?" she demanded. Her voice was cold and accusing. "She asked about you yesterday."

I paused. It felt like I had been hit by a freight train. "What did you tell her?" I asked tersely.

"The truth," she replied. "I told her you were out saving people, and that you were very happy."

"That's misleading Rin, you know I want to see her again. You know I'll go back to see her."

I was angry now, and I seriously hoped that Rin was twisting her words. She wouldn't be so needlessly cruel. Not to her.

"I know, and so does she. She still loves you Shirou. She wants you to be happy."

"I want her to be ha-" I begin before I'm cut off.

"Then go back to Japan, and live the rest of your life with her. Give up on your dream and live the life you want to live. She's head over heels for you. So please, go make her happy like you want to."

I sighed and replied with what I've told her hundreds of times. "I can't yet, Rin. This life now is what I want. I need it as much as these people need me. As much as I want to go home, I can't yet. Tell her what I told you. Please help her try to understand."

It was a moment before she responded. "I can't change your mind can I? Tell me one thing then?"

"Sure," I said. I hoped I would actually be able to answer.

"Tell me where you are. When you do whatever it is you plan to do, I want to see it on the news."

"You can work a television?" I asked with a laugh.

She groaned and said, "Just tell me!"

"South America. You should see it soon."

She said one last thing before cutting off the call, "Don't die, Shirou."

I shut the phone with a deep breath, and dropped it into the bag below my perch. Suddenly, the streets below were clear. The cafes were empty and the old men and women that were gossiping the morning away had vanished. All was quite save for the chirping of birds and the rumbling of distant gas engines. I quickly dropped behind the parapet of the building and grabbed my bow.

"Trace. On." I whispered as my circuits opened. The cars were approaching from the distance. I would only have this one chance to do it. About a minute later, the first car in the convoy turned down the road and drove past my position. It was going slow, only about fifteen miles an hour. As it passed, I noticed the rest of the motorcade. There were eight cars total, all black compacts spread evenly save for the leading and trailing vehicles, which were about fifty yards ahead and behind respectively. One of the middle cars no doubt held the man I was looking for.

I saw the image in my mind as I traced, and I felt the tug on my resolve as the object formed itself in my right hand. A wave of fatigue hit me as the blade manifested itself, and as I forced a bit more prana into it, the weapon deformed. It was only a few months ago that I discovered how to create Broken Phantasms from the weapons I traced. Now I could easily compensate for the lack of prana I possessed.

I put the deformed sword onto my bowstring and drew it back like I would any other arrow. This was the easy part. I quickly aimed next to one of the middle cars, and let fly my "arrow". It flew straight and impacted the cobblestone road next to the vehicle before exploding violently. The car swerved, hitting the metallic railing that lined the street and threw off the heading of the cars behind. I quickly projected another weapon and forced more prana into it before putting it to the bowstring as well. I fired this shot further towards the back of the convoy. It struck next to the rear axle of one of the black cars and the ensuing explosion flipped the vehicle entirely. I seriously hoped everyone was wearing their seatbelt.

I was fatigued. The strain of the projections was getting to me, but my job wasn't even half done yet. I dropped the bow and quickly grabbed up my other weapons before reinforcing my limbs with a short burst of power. Suited men armed with sub machine guns and a variety of pistols were beginning to climb out of the cars.

I leapt off my perch, dropping two stories to the ground and rolled when I hit. As I stood, I pulled a stun grenade off my belt and rolled it ahead of me to the feet of a large group of the men. They looked at it for a second as it skittered to a stop on the rough stone, but by then it was too late. The grenade burst and hit them all with a medium strength concussive force, as well as blinding them and rendering them deaf with the flash and crack.

Before anyone else could react, I ran around the convoy towards the other side, pulling two other grenades off of my belt. They were tear gas, a favorite of mine. I threw them in front of the nearest cars and smiled as the black suited men fell to their knees. I had undergone extensive training to resist the effects of the painful gas, so the discomfort is minimal for me. For those not resistant to it, its nearly suffocating, but a true non-lethal weapon. My first objective was complete, stop the convoy. My second objective was complete now as well, sow confusion. The third and fourth still needed to be accomplished, incapacitate every cartel member present, and arrest the leader.

I ran into the smoke, landing a knee into the face of a man that was scrambling for his gun. I swung my rifle off its sling to deflect the stab of a knife, and slammed the muzzle of the weapon into the man's shoulder. As he fell, I stomped down on his groin as hard as I could and then spun to whack the skeleton stock into the head of a man behind me. There were a lot of these guys, I needed to be careful. Quickly, I threw another tear gas grenade. I needed to engulf the whole area. I moved carefully through the smoke, using the environment and my rifle to beat every opponent in my way into submission. From a distance through the smoke, I saw two men pointing guns at me. Quickly, I dove into cover behind one of the black cars as they open up. From the crack of their weapon, I correctly identified their arms as MAC-10s, fast firing, but quick to run out of ammo. After less than five seconds, I heard two clicks as their bolts fall on empty chambers.

I vaulted over the car and struck the first man dead center in the chest with my rifle muzzle. I heard his sternum crack with a hideous sound, but it doesn't give me pause. I swung out my leg and hooked the ankle of the other man. As he fell, I dropped backwards onto his legs, breaking one of them in an instant. Two other men were on me before I could stand. I was thrown back by a kick to the face. I stumbled before bracing myself on a car. Before I could recover, a fist took me in the chest. Kevlar can't stop concussive force, and it hurt like hell. The second punch I dodged, and then planted an elbow into the forehead of my attacker. Before he could recover, I had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and slammed him into the hood of the car hard enough to dent the black metal.

The others were beginning to recover, and I realized exactly how outnumbered I was. I reached down and pulled out my handgun. I aimed for the legs and arms, but that's a lot harder than it seems. I emptied my magazine in twenty seconds, but before I could reload, I was grabbed from behind. I struggled, leaning forward before slamming my head back to dislodge my attacker. Then I turned and planted a hard kick into the man's shin. I finish him with a punch to the solar plexus that I put my whole body into. The man was unconscious in seconds, and was lifted into the air by the hit. I didn't doubt that he would have internal damage. I find it ironic that I use the martial arts of the greatest enemy I ever faced, but bajiquan is a useful set of skills.

"Get the boss out of here!" cried one of the men. The fusillade of gunfire increased as one of the car's opened its back door and an older man fled into the city, followed by eight of his men. Twenty more were in my path now, laying down suppressing fire to slow me down. I looked down. I was out of tear gas, and the single flashbang I possessed probably wouldn't give me enough time to beat them down. Still, I couldn't shoot them. Not after I came this far. I threw the flash, and I was already on the move as it went off. They were still blinded when I closed, and the first four were down before they could even hear properly.

One man stumbled into my path, blinking heavily. My foot arced up, slamming into his groin, and before he fell, I used his body to bowl over three more. As I moved, I kicked firearms away. Still, some men got shots off. A nine millimeter round struck my vest, and another grazed my left arm. Those were the only shots that particular man loosed before my elbow broke his jaw. I kicked out, hitting a man in the kidneys hard enough to make him pass out from the pain. Then I rolled to escape more gunfire, and used the tangle of bodies to land a few more crippling blows.

Fourteen were down; the six left had recovered their guns. I rolled to my feet and charged them with only fifteen feet between us. As I reached the halfway point, the twin blades Kanshou and Bakuya appeared in my hands with a clicking noise. One step later, the bullets were heading towards me. My blades helped me block the worst of the shots, but eight rounds grazed my extremities by the time I reached the men. The twin swords flashed with all the skill of their original owners, leaving severed guns and nonlethal wounds in their wake.

Quickly, I grabbed one of the terrified men. "Stay and wait for the police or I'll hunt you down again!" I shouted in Spanish. As he began to nod furiously, I headbutted him in the nose, leaving him little choice in the matter as he passed out. Then I made my way in the direction the kingpin went. I was followed by a trail of blood from dozens of minor wounds.

The road led uphill towards a residential area. I was limping, and I could no longer keep up the projected blades. A gateway was ahead, the entrance to a villa. Then I realized how exposed I was out here. As the thought crossed my mind, a shot ran out and something small and fast pierced my Kevlar vest, lodging itself somewhere in my abdomen. I grunted in pain and fell flat on the ground, playing dead. The blood was slowly leaking around me, and I heard one of the men say he had killed me. Then I heard footsteps approaching.

I summoned all the strength I possessed as the man reached my side and knelt to examine me. I threw myself up and crushed his nose with the back of my head. I wrestled his gun and used the magazine to beat him unconscious. Then I looked over my weapon. An Israeli made mini uzi, a fairly common gun amongst criminals. Before I could stop to think, I was under fire again, less accurate this time. I aimed and fired at a shadow in the gateway and hit him twice in the chest. Then I advanced to the cover it provided. The wound in my side hurt horribly, and it felt like I was on fire. The blood was seeming through my clothes and even though the wound burnt, it felt like all my warmth was leaving me.

I entered the villa on shaking feet, moving past the body of the man I killed, and the gunfire came at me seconds later. A raised garden provided my cover, and I used it to shoot and kill four more of the black suited men. Then my weapon ran dry.

"We know you're out," shouted a man. "Let's just end it quickly. Come out here and let us kill you."

I laughed quietly to myself as I prepared to project again. This time, my bow appeared in my hands, and the "arrow" soon after. A hero never surrenders to the villain. Not when justice is at stake. No matter how much it hurt, I would never surrender to the likes of them. I rolled out of the cover I was behind and fired my arrow. Both the bodyguard and his boss fired at the same time. My arrow struck the bodyguard in the chest, and the explosion painted the villa in a thin film of his blood. Two of their bullets struck me. One was deflected off a bone in my shoulder and exited without causing serious damage. The other pierced my right leg and shattered the tibia.

"Trace. On." I growled through ground teeth. Kanshou and Bakuya appeared in my hands and I threw them with as much precision as I could muster. As they flew, I pushed prana into my body, reinforcing its broken structure. The twin swords flew around the kingpin as he dove for cover. One of the blades nicked his gun and knocked it away. By that time I was there.

In my wounded state, the old man put up quite a fight. His first punch hit me straight in the gut, right on the bullet wound. I coughed blood and threw a wild haymaker that he easily dodged. A knee flew up into my stomach again and I dirtied the man's suit with more of my blood. Then a punch of mine connected. A straight strike hit his right hand dead on and shattered it. Taking advantage of the situation, I twisted his other arm and quickly broke it at the elbow. From there it was easy. I pulled him into a sleeper hold and he was out in seconds.

As his unconscious body slumped to the ground, I leaned against a nearby column for support. My prana was all but gone, and my vision was fading. Then I saw lights. The police were coming, arresting the villains. I took one step out towards them before I realized that the reinforcement on my leg was gone. The pain spiked up my leg, blinding me, and I fell forward onto my face. I struggled to stand, but I felt my consciousness escaping me. The last thing I felt before passing out was the handcuffs being locked around my wrists. Then the world faded to white.

[mAc Chaos]

Is this post HF True?

I like it. Seeing Shirou's interactions with Rin and the others are what I'm most interested in.

[Augustine]

This isn't Heaven's Feel True, though I originally planned on that being the route. This doesn't follow a route in the VN. The 5th Grail War will be explained in snippets through flashback chapters and additional conversations between people in the present.

[Mike1984]

Well, it wouldn't make sense for it to be HF True, given the lack of Sakura....

[mAc Chaos]

Well, it wouldn't make sense for it to be HF True, given the lack of Sakura....

The way Shirou keeps thinking of a certain girl other than Rin sounds like he saved Sakura and then left her to pursue being a hero of justice, to me. Rin mentions a girl that's waiting for him.

See here:

"Please, Rin, you know I'll be back soon."

"When?" she demanded. Her voice was cold and accusing. "She asked about you yesterday."

I paused. It felt like I had been hit by a freight train. "What did you tell her?" I asked tersely.

"The truth," she replied. "I told her you were out saving people, and that you were very happy."

"That's misleading Rin, you know I want to see her again. You know I'll go back to see her."

I was angry now, and I seriously hoped that Rin was twisting her words. She wouldn't be so needlessly cruel. Not to her.

"I know, and so does she. She still loves you Shirou. She wants you to be happy."

"I want her to be ha-" I begin before I'm cut off.

"Then go back to Japan, and live the rest of your life with her. Give up on your dream and live the life you want to live. She's head over heels for you. So please, go make her happy like you want to."

I sighed and replied with what I've told her hundreds of times. "I can't yet, Rin. This life now is what I want. I need it as much as these people need me. As much as I want to go home, I can't yet. Tell her what I told you. Please help her try to understand."

[Augustine]

Its understandable that you interpreted it that way. Though the fact that Shirou's body isn't a puppet can effectively rule it out.

[YeOfLittleFaith]

Pretty sure it's not Sakura. As a matter a fact, unless I'm misunderstanding things, this passage is pretty glaring in regards to who Shirou's "heroine" was in this story.

Two girls, smiling mischievously at the cameraman with a high school gate as the backdrop. They had just graduated and were showing off their diplomas. One was the girl that gave me my pendant, Tohsaka Rin. The other was the girl that I used to love.

It hit me then that I may in fact still love her. I'm first to admit that I have no real concept of self, so love is hard to recognize. Still, my chest hurt a bit when I saw the way her light brown hair framed her eyes, and the smile that was so similar to that of the girl next to her. I used to think that they practiced it. They were best friends after all.

[Augustine]

My, you guys are astute. I tend to be coy about these things, so I won't confirm nor deny anything.

[mAc Chaos]

Ah right, I forgot about that.

[Augustine]

About halfway done with the next chapter. It should be made pretty obvious who the heroine is, but it seems like everybody picked it out already.

[Mike1984]

The way Shirou keeps thinking of a certain girl other than Rin sounds like he saved Sakura and then left her to pursue being a hero of justice, to me. Rin mentions a girl that's waiting for him.

Yeah, and leaving Sakura in that way would be totally and utterly OOC for HF Shirou, therefore it cannot be him. It could, perhaps, be a different Shirou who fell for Sakura but left to pursue his ideal (well, if it wasn't pretty much confirmed that the girl is Ayako), but it ain't HF Shirou.

[mAc Chaos]

Well, it's definitely not Sakura at this point. It's somebody whose name starts with A.

[ILurkNoMoar]

Well, it's definitely not Sakura at this point. It's somebody whose name starts with A.

Ayaka, Aoko, Arturia, Arc, Angra Mainyu... Any more A's I forgot to mention?

[Augustine]

You got me, its Angra Mainyu. He's so moe!

[dedecou]

The Heroine is probably Ayako Mitsuduri .Very easy to guess.

[ILurkNoMoar]

You got me, its Angra Mainyu. He's so moe!

I knew it! He's not All the World's Evils, he's just misundestood. But an Avenger possessed Ayako... now that's something to think about~

[mangafreak7793]

I knew it! He's not All the World's Evils, he's just misundestood. But an Avenger possessed Ayako... now that's something to think about~

I will want that!