Chapter 5: A Most Strange Day
Shirou
Emiya Household, Before Dawn, 1st February 2004
Wakefulness came to Shirou, despite the earliness of the hour and darkness of the house. Something was different. It wasn’t just that he was in his own room and futon rather than the workplace in his shed, nor was it that he’d had a strange dream of swords, or that he’d been awoken by some strange noise or the urge to go to the toilet.
What is it, then? His eyes still closed, Shirou scanned through the sensations he was experiencing. Warmth that had been collected overnight from his body heat. A slight ache in one leg, as though he had slept on it funny. The weight of his futon’s outer layer and of someone else’s body half-laying on him. An oddly pleasing scent.
Wait. What? Shirou jumped, his eyes shooting open as he looked to see who was in the room with him. Sakura?!
Sure enough, the purple haired-head was alarmingly close to his own, and (if he wasn’t imagining it) he could feel the gentle pressure of her breasts against his arm. His heart leapt into his throat as he tried to slowly extricate himself from her still sleeping grip.
What the hell’s going on? Why is Sakura here?! Did I take her to my room by mistake? Did I do something to her? His heart threatened to beat itself out of his chest at that thought, but a quick scan of both himself and Sakura revealed that they were both fully clothed. No blood either. Of course not. A weak laugh escaped his lips. She’s Shinji’s little sister. And for all his flaws, Shinji was still his friend. I wouldn’t touch her like that. Our relationship is purely platonic. Having reassured himself of his completely and totally platonic affection for Sakura, he turned his mind to the task at hand – getting out of her grip without waking her up.
Miraculously, she had only barely stirred during his brief panicked jump and subsequent laughter. As he eased his arm away from her grip, he looked at her, concern from the previous night returning. He’d been shocked when she’d collapsed, and (with Fuji-nee’s prompting) had taken her to one of the guest rooms to sleep her exhaustion off. For her part, Fuji-nee had called Sakura’s grandfather to tell him that she had been studying with her, and had fallen asleep at her place.
Looking at her again, he smiled slightly. Trouble sleeping, huh. He knew that feeling. Even now he had his own nightmares about the terrible heat of those decade-old flames. Though they had long since gone to ashes and been built over, they burned on in his dreams. I definitely prefer the dreams about swords, strange though they are.
As he finally managed to free himself, Shirou sat up and looked down at his kouhai. She looked… peaceful. It didn’t seemlike she was having any nightmares. Even if she wasn’t wearing a blanket, she wasn’t sweating or shaking.
Still, why is she in my room? Maybe… yeah, she must have woken up in the middle of the night, gone to the toilet, and gotten lost on the way back. That was the most logical explanation, after all. She definitely wouldn’t have been here performing yobai. She’d spontaneously combust at the thought. Sighing softly, he gently put the blanket over her sleeping body. Hopefully, she won’t realize where she is when she wakes up. That would embarrass her almost as much.
With that particular issue dealt with for now, Shirou quietly threw on some extra clothing against the cold, exited his room, and made his way to his workplace in the shed. Gotta practice. I missed it last night with Sakura’s fainting… As he passed through the courtyard, the wind bit and tore at his exposed skin, chilling him to the bone – by the time he arrived at the shed, it was difficult for his cold-numbed fingers to manage the lock. After a few fumbling attempts, however, he managed to get inside.
Shutting the door behind him, he set himself down on the floor and began to focus. “Trace, on.” Immediately, the searing pain of his forcibly created magical circuits swept through his body. According to Kiritsugu, his adopted father, magical circuits were cultivated in bloodlines over generations. Eugenicists. Shirou had only a very few, and none terribly good ones, whatever that meant. He would have to prove the idea of magical circuits being the sole measure of a spellcaster wrong, if only to himself.
The pain shot through him again. Focus, Shirou. This was the riskiest moment. If he messed up now, it might well kill him. At best, it would cripple him for life. Finally, the pain subsided, and he connected the circuit fully. Time to practice – reinforcing the junk in his shed was hardly exciting, but it was absolutely necessary to build up – or at least maintain – his skills. Such as they are, anyways.
After about fifteen minutes, Shirou rose to his feet and let the magical circuit fade. Stretching, he promised himself that he would do some extra time tonight, and made his way back through the cold. Time to cook breakfast.
Emiya Household, Morning
Fuji-nee arrived as Shirou was making breakfast. “Smells great, Shirou!” She called as she entered the dining room. “Eh? Where’s Sakura-chan? She didn’t leave already, did she?”
“No, she’s still sleeping, I think.” Heat surged up his cheeks as he recalled where she was sleeping. At least he was facing away from Taiga – she wouldn't be able to see his embarrassment.
“Hmm.” Surprisingly, Taiga didn’t tease him about that at all. “She must have been really tired.”
“Yeah. I think she’s pushing herself too hard, so I didn’t wake her.” Shirou agreed. “Maybe I should ask her not to come at night – especially since it’s been so weird recently.” He turned around and began setting the table.
Taiga looked thoughtful. “I wonder… it might be a good idea.”
Maybe you should avoid doing it too. Shirou didn’t say that aloud, though – for one thing, she would ignore him as she was his guardian. Secondly, she was probably one of the people best suited to protecting herself in the whole of Fuyuki. I definitely wouldn’t want to be the guy who was idiotic enough to attack her. She’d thoroughly beat him in sparring often enough for him to know that.
As he returned to the kitchen to serve the food and tea, he heard a shuffle from outside the dining room.
“Good morning, Sakura-chan. Do you want some breakfast?” Taiga greeted Sakura as though she was the one who had made it.
No, Fuji-nee, you’re just as much a beneficiary here as she is. Shirou shook his head, before rejoining the women in the living room. Sakura had apparently found her school uniform in the laundry room and gotten dressed. She looked unusually harried, with her hair messier than usual and her clothing slightly off-kilter.
“Morning, Sakura.” As he spoke, eyes fell on her chest momentarily and he recalled the sensation of her breasts pressed against him. Immediately, he felt himself blushing at the thought. No, that’s unworthy of me. Stay focused.
“Good morning, Senpai.” Looking up to meet her eyes, Shirou noticed that her cheeks were rather pink. Clearly, she had realized what had happened last night, too, and was just as embarrassed as him to remember it.
It was an innocent mistake. Shirou reminded himself. Nothing untoward. He was certain of it. Positive, even.
“Here, I made breakfast.” He gestured for her to sit.
Sakura did so, before bowing her head deeply to him. “I’m sorry for being such a bother last night, Senpai, Fujimura-sensei. I’ve been having nightmares recently, and it’s made it hard to sleep.”
Shirou frowned, concerned. I guess she’s carrying her burdens too. I wonder what I can do to help her with those…
“It’s fine. You’re always welcome to stay overnight.” Taiga said cheerily.
“Fuji-nee… at least ask the owner of the house’s permission before giving it freely.”
“What, did you intend to deny it to her?” His guardian looked at him with a catlike grin.
“Of course not! I’m just worried that her family will be concerned if she stays over at a man’s house. You said she was resting at yours last night, but that’s not going to last!”
“Ah, no, I couldn’t trouble Senpai like that again.” Sakura interjected before Taiga could respond. “You already do so much for me, Senpai.”
Shirou shook his head. “Not at all. You’re always taking care of me, Sakura. I want to return the favor sometimes.”
The young woman’s cheeks reddened slightly, and she mumbled something to herself.
“Hm? What was that, Sakura?” He asked.
“Nothing, Senpai.” Sakura offered him a bright smile, causing his heart to skip a beat.
Clearing his throat, he continued. “Fuji-nee and I were just discussing that you’d been pushing yourself too hard. We were thinking that maybe you should go right home after school rather than coming over here…”
“No!” Sakura interrupted him with surprising assertiveness. “No.” She repeated, this time more calmly. “I… being here is comfortable. I’m not pushing myself at all. I’ll… I’ll go back if I’m a bother.”
She’d said the same thing last night. “No, you’re not a bother at all, Sakura.” Shirou said hastily. “If you want to keep coming, do so. Just… maybe I should walk you here from school and back to your house from now on. Things are getting a bit less safe at night around here.”
Sakura looked at him oddly, hesitating.
“Shirou, I can do it instead. That way Sakura-chan doesn’t have to wait for an extra hour for you to leave school while you’re helping maintain the place.” Taiga volunteered.
Hm. That’s unusually responsible of her, at least for non-school related things. Fuji-nee was a capable teacher, for all her flaws as a guardian. And as an adult. But she always comes through in a pinch. “Thanks, Fuji-nee. I appreciate your help.”
Taiga nodded firmly, puffing out her chest proudly. “It’s my duty as a teacher and an adult to protect my young students.”
“Speaking of your duties as a teacher…” Shirou glanced at a nearby clock. “Isn’t it time you need to get going?”
Fujimura’s gaze shot up towards the clock, and she made a dismayed noise. “Ah, alright. Always demanding of my time… Now, play safe you two!” She rose to her feet. “Oh, and thanks for the food, Shirou!” She bobbed her head as she swept out the door.
No, well, you invited yourself over. Not that he minded. He owed a lot to Fuji-nee, and it was good to see her happily eating his food.
Once she had left, Shirou looked to his other guest.
She returned the glance inquisitively.
“Sakura, if you do want to stay over again, let me know. I don’t mind having a housemate like you over.” He smiled. “It makes the house feel a little less empty, and it’s fun to cook with you.”
“Yes!” Sakura’s smile returned, more radiant than before… then faded after a few moments. “Um, Senpai?”
Detecting a serious note in her voice, Shirou looked at her more closely, scanning for any signs she might still be overly exhausted or otherwise distressed. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know that that’s a good idea. Nii-san is already… he’s angry with you.”
“What? Why?” He asked, baffled. I haven’t done anything to offend him, have I? Casting his mind back over the past few weeks didn’t illuminate him on the subject. He’d been spending more time with Issei than with Shinji of late, but… that might be more cause for loneliness than anger.
“Why? It’s not like we got into a fight or anything.”
“It… it may seem like that to you, but Nii-san thinks otherwise. Please, be careful.”
Of Shinji? That seemed… unlikely. True, he was also a highly talented member of the archery club, and might know some other martial arts, but their relationship hadn’t turned that poor, had they?
“He’s been in a worse mood than usual…” She said quietly, hanging her head. “And I think he’s brooding about that time you hit him.”
“That? That was a year ago, though…” Surely he has more on his mind than just that. Shirou had punched Shinji back then for how flippantly the other boy had mentioned that he was striking Sakura. “I just felt like it.” Shinji had said. An old pulse of anger surged within Shirou. “He’s not hurting you again, is he?”
“N-no.” She shook her head. “Not really. He’s just… I think he sees you as his enemy.”
That was ridiculous. They’d just hung out last week. “Are you sure about that, Sakura?”
“Well… mostly.”
“Hmm…” He wasn’t sold on the idea, but looking at Sakura’s sincerely concerned expression, he relented. “Alright, I’ll be careful. I think you might be overreacting, though.”
Sakura hesitated. “I… thank you, Senpai. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
He smiled lopsidedly. “Well then I’ll have to ensure that I keep myself safe.”
Sakura checked the clock. “Ah, I have to go too, Senpai. Club activities are starting soon.” She rose, before glancing at him again. “You… aren’t coming back to archery club, are you?” It was more a statement than a question.
“No.” Shirou touched his shoulder, where an old work accident had left him an unpleasant-looking burn scar. “Shinji was right when he said it’s a bit indecent to show it off whenever I’m shooting. Even though I don’t think it would hamper my actual aim… I’m just a bit busy nowadays.”
She nodded sadly, clearly having expected that answer. “Well, Mitsuzuri-senpai keeps asking about you, so… I thought I’d ask.”
“Thanks, Sakura. Oh, and by the way…” He swiftly jumped to his feet and went to the kitchen to grab her lunch. “Here.” He handed it to her.
“Thank you, Senpai.” She bowed.
“You didn’t have time to make it, and I did.” He smiled at her with a shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”
With another bow, she hurried off to school.
Fuyuki, Morning
About half an hour after Sakura left for morning practice, Shirou began his own journey to school. The chill air was less frigid than the day before, but dark clouds hung above, blocking sunlight and keeping him (and the other pedestrians) from getting any extra warmth. He was only a few blocks away from Homurahara when he saw a strangely dressed man standing on a street corner, arms folded. The man wore a white robe beneath a ragged black cloak, and his hood was pulled up, presumably against the cold.
Is he part of some kind of new cult? Shirou wondered at his garb. And he’s a foreigner…
Before he could continue the thought, the dim sunlight caught on the man’s eyes. His eyes were an unusual golden shade, visible even at three-meter distance between them. The way those eyes caught the light… it was like they were glowing. Glowing like… fires.
The terrible flames that consumed whoever he had been. Screams, the scent of burnt flesh – all too like pork. He tumbles through the searing building, pushed by hands too large to be real. Black, burning sludge pursues him, devouring everything in its path. He flees, burning buildings collapsing before him, and the impact knocking him back. The memories, who he was, burn with the buildings. He curls up, hiding as the conflagration immolates his whole world and then – his hero steps out of the ash, extending a hand. "Thank you," the hero says. A gentle smile glows on Kiritsugu’s face and-
Shirou looked up into the blazing eyes of the hooded man. He’s tall! Was his first inane thought, followed swiftly by shock. How had he gotten so close?
“A child of fire, are you?” The man’s Japanese was perfect – even the slightest shifts in accent made it sound like he had been born and raised in Fuyuki itself. “Yes, I see. I should have anticipated that.”
What? Baffled, Shirou stumbled a step backwards.
“Ah. I alarmed you. That was not intentional. I apologize.”
“Ah, no.” Shirou ducked his head. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. I was distracted.”
The man made a noncommittal noise. “So it seems.”
“I’m Emiya Shirou. Apologies for the late introduction. May I ask who you are?”
“I?” The man considered for a moment, his head tilted as though in thought.
Shirou shivered, his heart pounding in his throat. There was something… off about this man. What is it? Why?
“I am a stranger, I suppose.”
That answer startled him enough for his unease to momentarily fade. I knew that. That’s why I was asking. He coughed, a plume of steam escaping his mouth. Maybe he’s less fluent than he seems. “Sorry, I thought… never mind. What’s your name?”
“Hm. I have yet to decide that.” The stranger looked down at Shirou curiously. “You are lost.”
What? The instinctive distress was creeping its way up his spine once more. “No, I’m in Miyama. I’ve lived here my whole life.”
“True.” The man (what was so strange about him?) acknowledged. “But you are lost nonetheless. Without a light. Seeking something, always searching… but not in the right places.”
Shirou shook his head, baffled. “I don’t… I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
The stranger continued. “That which you strive against is just as important as that which you strive for.” He fell silent a moment, gaze piercing Shirou like a burning spike of iron. “Ah. Do not lament that you are lost. Most humans are. Indeed, the wisest might even seek out being uncertain… while the most desperate cling to whatever landmarks they can.”
“What are you talking about?” The steam on his breath twisted away into the sky.
The stranger seemed to ignore his words. “But you must be cautious. Events are already apace, and you will find yourself in a place that you have no wish to be. You… well. You will see.” He made a sound that in any other person, Shirou would have identified as a chuckle.
A thought occurred to him. Wait, is this… “Were you at the Matou Manor recently?”
The stranger’s lips peeled upwards in an approximation of a grin. “I should have expected that. Foolish child. I’m certain his progenitor will be displeased.” The man fell silent, looking up. A fat snowflake drifted slowly down and landed on his face before he returned his unblinking stare to Shirou. “Until we meet again, Emiya Shirou.” He turned and began walking away. As he disappeared, Shirou finally managed to figure out what had so instinctively disturbed him about the man.
Steam. His breath wasn’t steaming. Whatever that meant… No, it’s probably just that he’s been out in the cold for long enough that his temperature’s adjusted. Yeah, that’s got to be it. Somehow, he couldn’t convince himself of that.
Snow began falling faster and thicker. Shirou swallowed, hard. I should get going. I might be late for class. Fuji-nee won’t let me forget it if I’m late for homeroom. The thought impelled him, driving him into a hasty walk, and then a run.
As he turned the next corner, the stranger spoke again. “How your father would weep to see you now.” The words went unheard by any save by the drifting snow and empty streets.
Homurahara Academy, Midmorning
Shirou arrived just before the bell rang, and immediately felt an odd exhaustion welling up inside of him. I guess I must be out of shape. He gasped a breath in. Or the cold’s taking more out of me than I thought. He brushed the swiftly melting snow out of his hair as he rushed inside. By the time he arrived in class, he was already five minutes late.
Fujimura-sensei looked at him, a brow furrowing. “Emiya-kun. Do try to come on time tomorrow.”
I was so close… now I’ll get an earful from her tonight.
He heard a soft snort from behind him. Shinji was leaning back in his chair, a faint sneer on his lips. Reminded of what Sakura had told him earlier, Shirou took a brief look at his old friend. There was an air of arrogance to him now that he almost didn’t recognize. While it was true that Shinji was always smug to some degree, this level of disdain for the rest of the world was new.
What’s going on today? It had been a really strange day, and it was only quarter to eight. It can’t get any stranger from here on, can it?
Homurahara Academy, After School
In truth, the rest of the day was reassuringly normal. The snow stopped falling at around noon, and Issei had been asked about what had delayed him at lunch. For reasons he could not quite explain, Shirou had lied, saying he lost track of the time and then got caught in the snowfall. Issei had accepted this with a mild reprimand, and then the two had gotten to work on the various tasks around the school. Nevertheless, through the entire day, exhaustion weighed heavy on his shoulders.
Now, as the last lessons of the day came to a close, Issei was there once more. “Emiya. Are you in a rush to go home? There’ve been some complaints about a broken heater in Class 3-A.”
“The seniors’ classroom? Huh.” Shirou considered for a moment. “I can take a look. I’m not in any rush to get home.” Fuji-nee said she’d bring Sakura over, anyways.
The two walked together, and Issei continued. “Your help is always appreciated, Emiya. I wish I could do more to help. Or that I could get the janitorial staff to do some of it.”
“Nah, they’re busy enough as it is. If I can fix it, I will.”
Issei sighed, putting a palm over his face. “You… they are almost certainly the least busy janitors in any school for a hundred kilometers.”
“Besides, Issei.” Shirou interjected. “You’re busy enough with your work for the student council, which I can’t do, but you can. I’m just doing what I can do to help.”
“Yes, but I also rely overmuch on you for those labors as well.” Issei said with a frown. After a moment, he relented. “I suppose I shouldn’t be scolding you for being diligent.”
No, you really shouldn’t. You work harder than any three other students. Shirou shook his head.
“Unlike some people.” The student council president said, his voice bitter.
Hm? Who’s gotten him so bothered? With that tone of voice, though, there could really only be two people. Shinji hasn’t been especially troubling today, so… “What did Tohsaka do?”
Issei grimaced. “It’s what she didn’t do that’s the problem. Namely, come to school today.”
Shirou shot him a look. “Do you keep track of all the students’ attendance?”
“No. But I have to keep an eye on Tohsaka, or else she’ll end up plotting something more troublesome than she already is.”
Issei… He shook his head inwardly, before frowning. Why did Tohsaka skip school? And for the whole day? She was known as “Miss Perfect” throughout the school – easily the most popular girl in Homurahara. Worry nibbled at the back of his mind. Did something happen? Even though normally, he would have dismissed the thought, the recent rumors combined with his strange encounter earlier in the morning… Tohsaka’s a beautiful girl. Other people might want to try to hurt her.
Their meeting the previous day rose in his mind. It was… difficult for him to talk with her. She was, in point of fact, too beautiful for him to be comfortable with. Too perfect? Like an immaculately sculpted idol to be placed atop a pedestal. Sakura’s a lot more approachable- wait, what the hell am I thinking?
“Ah, Kuzuki-sensei.” Issei’s voice brought him out of his thoughts before he could make any further excuses.
“Ryuudou. Emiya.” Said the severe ethics teacher, Kuzuki Souichirou, by way of greeting.
“Good afternoon, sensei.” Shirou bowed.
Kuzuki nodded, before looking back to Issei. “Ryuudou. Have you received the report from Ayazaki?”
Issei frowned. “No. The journaling club has been slow.”
“Mm.” The teacher’s perpetual frown deepened. “Very well. I will speak with him.”
“Thank you for your hard work.” Issei replied. Kuzuki’s sole reply was a brief nod.
After the older man left, Shirou looked at Issei. “Issei, does he ever relax? He always seems tense at school.”
The other tilted his head. “Kuzuki-sensei is a very private person. I don’t see him relax very often, even at the temple.” Issei frowned. “I’m not even sure I’ve ever seen him smile, not even with my brother.”
Why his brother? Before he could ask the question, they arrived at Classroom 3-A, and Shirou was swiftly distracted with his work.
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