Hamon

[Dalorian Riften]

A Man wanted to save the world.
…
A King wanted to keep his youth.
…
A Girl wanted to protect her Kingdom.
…
This fate will be no different from the rest.

It is due to the nature of man that the world continues turning; thus, it is our duty to uphold it on our shoulders and bear its weight.
…
There is a Boy who will save all else.

~0~o~0~

“Will there be repercussions in case the experiment fails, Director?” said the assistant, fumbling with his pen and papers while trying to keep up with the pacing of his boss. “Even if we manage to summon one into ‘him,' there might be retaliation especially…”

“Roman.”

The Director uttered that name with annoyance. He wore a clocktower robe, similar to that of a scientist fashion in the style of black and white with the symbol of his compound stamped on the back – Chaldea. Gray hair long past his shoulders to the center of his back, brown eyes staring off into nothing, and long sleeves covering his hands.

“Enough with your senseless worry and tell me; have the boy been prep yet?”

Roman paused in his steps before hurrying along to the Director’s side and looked over the paper in his hand. “Yes, sir. Subject One has been prep carefully and is available for the procedure. It seems his circuits are more than acceptable, and his vitals remain excellent."

“Good,” said the Director, “As long as all goes according to plan he can stay quiet for all I care.” Coming to the end of the white hallway and standing in front of a massive vault door, the Director and Roman synchronize their breathing and let out a breath of air at the same time.

“Roman, the time has come. All these years of careful planning have led to this very moment.”

The clicking sound of gears and cogs went off in the distance; it made the compound seemed alive for the briefest of moments. Both individuals witnessed the locks of the vault unbinding itself before the steel door opened up to its contents. A bright light enveloped them and clouded their vision, only slightly. While Roman remained partially blinded, the Director glance towards the light without fear nor signs of weakness. He began walking while leaving his assistant behind.

Within the dull blue chamber with chalk drawings of various mystical symbols etched into the walls, ceiling, and the floor was a small child. A boy – no older than ten years old. His golden eyes were never leaving the center of the inner circles drawn. His attire consisted that of a white robe with white pants. Not a single showing of dirt noticeable on his body. His position lied in the center of the room.

Even anyone else was there; they’d notice the lack of windows nor the absence of light that provided a dreadful looking showing of the confinements of the chamber.

Walking up to the seated child, Roman and the Director stood with Roman having glanced at the markings.

“Everything seems to be in order. Director, I believe it times for the ritual to begin,” said Roman.

His hand combed through his orange hair. The tension in his feet did little to relax for the upcoming moment. If words could persuade the man in front of him, it’d be to stop this nonsense at once and consider another method; none the less, he was only capable of watching and observing.

“Subject One.” The Director addressed the child before him. The boy responded with a motion of a single finger moving before keeping still like a doll.

The man began talking to him yet again.

“You’re about to go through a highly dangerous yet rewarding experience should you come out alive from this. I do hope you’re the key to my success. Otherwise, it would mean another statistic to the charts." The man’s hand rose from his sleeve, revealing red markings; it was command seals. The symbol of an eye with a cross striking between.

His resolve was firm and grounded. His stance perfected after hours of trials and error. Just how long had he waited for this moment to come?

One?

Two?

It didn’t matter in the end. The results soon after would confirm his theory once and for all. Fighting amongst Magi at London wasn’t a battle of strength but a fight of who was right in either regard.

The Director turned his head towards Roman, signaling the assistant to back away. Roman did exactly as such, and the Director directed his attention back towards the boy. Taking out a small knife from his pocket, a cut is made on his palm. Blood dripped from the wound onto the chalk surface. Instantly the blood flowed through the markings like a river, lighting up the chamber in crimson as the ground began trembling. Roman, in his slight panic, started holding onto one of the nearby walls while the Director stood firmly in place.

The boy did not move at all.

“Roman. I want you to witness a making in the history of Magi. I haven’t felt something like this since the end of the fourth Grail War!” Grinning to himself the Director hovered his palm over the child, allowing his blood to drip down the boy’s forehead which as a result, caused the various lines to net over his body like a web.

The lines crept from boy’s forehead down to the intersecting circles in the center of the chamber.

The Director let his lips loose and uttered words anyone from the previous Grail Wars would know.

Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Let each be turned over five times, only breaking the fulfilled time asunder.
Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. Let my grand master ■■■■■■■■ be the ancestor. Raise a wall, against the wind that shall fall. Close the four cardinal gates. Come out from the crown. Rotate the three-branched road reaching the Kingdom.

The grounding shocked with Roman collapsing on the floor and the boy lighting up like a furnace. His body ceased in magical energy, forming a tornado of bloody red as the wind twirls. Cracks formed everywhere as though the foundation of the building construct was breaking apart against the weight of the spell.

The Director continued.

I shall declare here. Your body shall serve under me. My fate shall be with your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail. If you submit to this will and this reason…… then answer!

Suddenly golden eyes lit up, and the sound of agony pierced through the magical veil. A painful expression filled the boy’s face, letting all those know of his suffering. The circles began cycling around his body before forming into a massive dome over him.

The Director continued again.

An oath shall be sworn here! I shall attain all virtues of all of the Heaven. I shall have dominion over all evils of all of the Hell!

Roman carried a fearful look. His vision is watching over the incantation cast but more importantly, the magical energy surrounding the boy.

“Director, you must stop this at once! The entire place is breaking itself apart!”

However, his warning went unnoticed. The Director continued for the last time.

From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, Protector of the Balance!

The spell goes off, and light plagued the entire facility. Roman, the boy, and the Director along with every faculty member attending the compound bathed in its glorious light.

~0~0~0~

When I came to, I was trapped in a burning field. There must have been a large fire. The native town filled to the brim with death was bathing in a shade of hellish red. People everywhere were dying indiscriminately. Everything was burning. It was a view straight from hell that never end. Humans kept getting caught in the flames, running and panicking as their love ones died in front of them.

It wasn’t fair.

Not a single notion of what was happen was equitable in the slightest.

I wanted it to end so badly, but there wasn’t anything left to do. My foot kept trudging through ash and corpse while my ears feel deaf to the pleas of others.

Helping them was impossible. It would result in my death if I stopped for a single moment to help them.

I wanted to survive.

I don’t remember what happen before the flames started. I don’t remember the faces or names of my family.

I know that their likely dead and I would follow after them.

I feel face-first into the ground this time. My legs lack all strength to keep moving, and my eyes were burning from the fumes in the air. Tears wept from me while these tiny hands drag this useless body against the ground.

I don’t want to die... I don’t want to die... Save me. Someone, please save me.

Get me out of this nightmare!

Death seemed more like a blessing at this point. The smell of burning flesh caused the bowels in me to puke out. Nausea kept overwhelming me until my body simply gave up. I turned myself over on my back with my eyes staring at the sky.

The black orb in the heavens gathered all the desperate cries of agony and fed on them like a glutton pig. It was a black hole consuming every despair, every sin around it and grew larger.

“To think such a hideous abomination existed.”

My breath stopped mind-motion. A disembodied voice had taken hold of my attention just when I though dying was my only option.

“I’m impressed that a young one survived an ordeal like this. Magi are terrible creatures with no remorse for human casualties.”

It continued talking to me I suppose. My head didn’t turn nor listen to any command from my mind. It was too tiresome and painful to think.

“I pity that you had to endure that. No child should have to bear witness to that tragedy.”

Your right. No one should have to go through that and remain helpless like me. Going through was terrible. No hope to guide you. No love to keep your heart solid. No courage to help you stay warm.

Throughout my journey down this hell...

…My heart naturally died out along the way.

“I can tell. The moment I was summoned into this vessel, it seemed empty. Although, I must admit the ocean is a lovely sight to behold.”

Then did his words suddenly caused realization.

The nightmare around me broke like glass with the scenery itself shattering into pieces. My vision wavered, and when my eyes opened up, the wave of wind and smell of ocean breeze was introduced.

The nightmare that haunted every corner of the landscape replaced by the sight of a beautiful, untainted ocean unseen by human hands. The blue sea was still yet my back felt no liquid on it. The pain from my wounds was nonexistent. No clouds dominated the sky in any form. Pink petals flowed down above, and one even landed on my head.

I wasn’t sure where I was but leaving this utopia felt like a sin.

“Yes. This here will do perfectly. I dare say that is the most suitable workshop for me.”

I couldn't help but question what the voice meant.

What workshop?

“It matters not. You are the perfect host for me or shall I say; we are one now.”

Now wait a minute. You can't talk like that and not expect me to go on without knowing anything. Who are you?

“The real question you should be asking is… who are you?”

My name is Shirou […]

…

My name is gone. Forgotten.

The fire erased any evidence that Shirou […] existed before then. Only my first name survived, and that’s that. There wasn’t anything left for me to follow through. My body survive as well as my first name but nothing else. All was burned and turn to ashes in the blazing hell. If you take away a child's parents, home, and all such things, there's nothing left for him.

“Your name is whatever you choose from now on. I’m almost done on my end so be ready for whatever comes next. The ‘current’ me will vanish without a trace but ‘we’ are one and the same now.”

Are you leaving already?

Do you have to go so soon? I don’t want that.

“Didn’t you listen? We are one now. I won’t be going anywhere for now on. Goodbye, Shirou.”

The view of the ocean fades away from my field of vision. My eyes close by themselves and darkness was all that awaited me.

~0~o~0~

…I’m dreaming.

"Huh!?"

I squint my eyes at the white light.

"So bright," I think. It was just light entering my eyes when I woke up, but I'm not used to it. I probably didn't even understand what the bright light meant.

I’m surprised. The light blinded me for only a brief second before my eyes could adjust to the surroundings of the room. I’m lying in an unfamiliar bed, in a strange room. It's layered with wooden screen doors and a futon laid next to me. The smell of tea settled upon my nose. The confines were clean and crisp with no discomfort.

I relaxed my shoulders and let my eyes wander around the room for a bit.

Outside the window – the bright blue sky looked unbelievably fantastic.

Suddenly the screen door opened, revealing a man. Wrinkled kimono and uncombed hair with a dead fish look in his eyes. His mouth laid agape for quite some time until it got somewhat awkward.

“You’re finally awake,” he said. A smile that melted into the white sunlight. I thought it was a suspicious voice, but a very kind voice. “I saw you walking in the middle of the night with blood on your forehead, and you looked hurt so I took you in.”

He went straight to the point. He began asking me questions about my origin as to why I was like that.

I couldn’t give him a single action. No proper name nor anything to help him. I even told him about my parents being dead but left out the fire. It wold only bring up bad memories again.

At that moment he asked me a question.

"I'll ask you this. Which would you prefer? To go to an orphanage, or to be adopted by this man you've never seen before?"

That man was saying he could take me. It seemed suspicious at first, but there wasn't much for me.

…He looked like an unreliable guy with no future. But it made no difference, as I knew nothing about either one: him nor the orphanage. I said I go with him and in response, he nodded and spoke about gathering paper for tomorrow. When he turned to exit the room, he steps paused. His back still and with it, he turned his gaze back to me.

"Oh, I forgot to mention something important. I have to tell you one thing before you come to me. Is that okay?"

I nodded in response.

“My name is Emiya Kiritsugu, and I’m a spellcaster.”

I was stun yet there was something I found admirable about him being a spellcaster. It’d be crazy to believe such a person but who was I to say otherwise.

“I’m Shirou… just Shirou.”

He gave me a small smile that spoke volume of his character.

“Starting from tomorrow on, you’ll be Emiya Shirou. Okay?”

For the first time in a long time forgotten, my lips turned up.

“Okay.”

AN: Well I already posted this story on my FF account, so I figured why not post it here. Just another Fate fic with elements of Grand order and other various works. Tell me what you think about it.

P.S. try and guess the Hero that was talking to Shirou. Here's a hint: it involves swords XD

[shounen jump]

I give up, who was the hero?

[Dalorian Riften]

Wow. Giving up a bit too soon? I don't want to spoil it for the story as of yet so another hint: 1. None of the current servants shown in the Type-moon work so far 2. He's Japanese.

[Draconic]

You're holding my interest, though there are a few grammatical errors. 'They're probably dead,' not 'their probably dead,' for example.

Anyway, I'll keep an eye on this for now. looking forward to what comes next.

[Dalorian Riften]

Not sure why those mistakes are still there. Every time I correct them, it keeps appearing as the same thing.
Sometimes I hate using this format DX

[Base]

Is this a Fifth Grail War fic or is it a Grand Order fic? Also, what was the fate of the Director and Roman?

[Dalorian Riften]

It's Fith Grail War added with elements from Grand Order. The fate of Roman and the Director will be revealed later on.

[Dalorian Riften]

Chapter I: Day I

I'm dreaming again.

A story from my past. It was when I finally convinced Kiritsugu to make me his apprentice, so it was about eight years ago. When I was old enough to stay at home by myself, Kiritsugu started to leave the house on a weekly basis. He would say in his usual tone that he would "travel the globe", and he began to act on these words. A part of me felt there was more to it than that, however, questioning it wasn’t necessary. He always came back, so there was no need to worry.

That's how it was after that.

The Emiya house is a big Japanese-style manor, and Kiritsugu and I were the only ones living there. I was perplexed in this house at times, as it was too big for a child. Getting used to walking pass the long halls, knowing how empty it was never sat well with me. The loneliness of it all sometimes got to me, but Kiritsugu would always have an interesting story to keep my thoughts from straying from his travels. Each one was epic tales of things he did in his youth, a majority being made-up such as how he fought off vampires, otherwise known as Dead Apostate.

A part of me simply couldn’t believe in tales like that, but it kept me intrigued like a child being read a favorite bedtime story.

Regardless, I still like my life here. A kind man adopted me and gave me a home after finding me wandering the streets in blood.

I don’t remember how I got to that state or what happen before then. Although the occasional nightmare from the fire did plague my mind at times, it was mostly a blank during me sleeps.

Speaking of sleep, I heard a sound coming from nearby.

My sleeping mind begins to wake as the sound of metal colliding to the floor, and a sudden gasp caught my attention.

“---what?”

My eyes opened, and rays of light hit them full force. It burned and caused a considerable amount of irritation. The feeling of warm air brushed against my skin as a silhouette enters my sight.

“Emiya, how long do you intend to sleep there? You’ll be late to school.”

In front of my half-awake body is my friend and school body president, Ryuudou Issei. He lived up in the temple where he was training as a monk along with others. He wore the regular school attire while giving me an impatient stare.

“…Hm. Morning Issei.”

Issei smiles bitterly while avoiding the various tools on the ground. It reminds me that currently we’re located in a small smithing forge near the bridge. It was an abandoned place long forgotten that was in need of repairs.

However, that was before I set eyes on it. It didn’t even catch attention until I accidently stumbled upon it during a walk during the afternoon. Since then something in me told me to get this place up and running.

I spent the summer consistently going up and down from home, repairing and replacing parts while simultaneously learning the craft. I remember Fuji-Nee having a heart attack when I came home late covered in dirt and oil.

Taiga didn't allow me to go, but I always sneaked in here. As a result, it became my base. For me, Emiya Shirou, I guess you could call this place my real room. The Emiya household doesn't suit me, and I can only relax in this space full of steel and oil.

“Come on, Emiya. I came all the way here to get you to school before the bell rings.” Issei pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Oh…. Alright. Thanks for waking me up. What time is it?”

“It’s 7:39 A.M.”

It was close from here on now. If we can run from here, we might be able to make it in time. Hopefully, Fuji-Nee wouldn’t get too upset by this.

“Don’t mention it. You’re lucky I live nearby to come and wake you up now and then. Honestly Emiya you spend far too much time in this filthy place.”

“The place isn’t that dirty. It just needs a few tune up, and it’ll be good as new.”

“Yes somehow whenever I come to this place, there’s this odor mucking it up. You do know people at school and around town call you Fuyuki’s Blacksmith, right?”

“I have a nickname?”

Issei palmed his face. It wasn’t my fault for that, was it? I didn’t know people spread rumors about me. It probably because I spent my days here of all places.

“Emiya let’s go.”

Issei reached his hand out for mine.

"Give me a second."

Taking a deep breath, I clear up my mind. I pull at Issei’s hand and dust the rust off my clothes. It was incredible just how I’m used to this situation.

“By the way Issei, you didn’t happen to run into Shinji on your way here?”

“The Matou boy? For what purpose would I have to associate myself with him.”

Issei was letting it show again. Not once have him, or Shinji ever saw eye to eye on things. Issei couldn’t stand Shinji’s attitude, and Shinji merely ignored Issei at times. Shinji could be rough around the edges, but that’s just his personality.

“Calm down Issei. It’s not like you to get work up over something like this. Forget I mention Shinji and lets hurry to school already – I can already tell Fuji-Nee is probably to going to bark at us for missing class.”

After that, we left the building behind. It felt like I leaving a part of myself with it every time.

~0~o~0~

We were in the club room. It was an average sized room with desks, chairs, and a large round table in the center. On the side was boxes stacked with equipment and school supplies. Issei had been council president for two years now and in charge of his place. He was busy focusing on the papers explaining the club budget and other finances. It seemed there was a lot on his mind at the moment. Perhaps training with the monks gave him stress.

“Sorry for dragging you into this. Usual the rest of the club members would be attending had it not been for their business hours at work,” he said.

“I guess even the club president has his troubles to worry about, right?”

“Yes but it's not like the stress bothers me. No need to pity me Emiya.”

“Huh? I wasn’t pitying you, Issei.”

Issei looks at me with narrowed eyes. He was more than likely upset but refrain from showing it any further.

“I’ll just pretend you care then. There’s something I’ve meant to talk to you about for some time now.”

The papers were put down on the round table. The fierce look Issei was giving me was sending chills down my spine. Usually, he never got this seriously unless it involved Tohsaka or monk training at the temple.

I swallow the spit in my mouth and wait for his response.

“Emiya Shirou…”

Whatever he has to say must be important for him to use my full name like that.

“...Join the student council club.”

“H-Huh?! Why ask me that?”

It’s not like I didn’t want to. I just never gave it thought nor concerned myself with it. It was too random for Issei to ask me that. Besides, a part of me selfishly didn’t want to have my free time taking away. If I joined then going to the forge would happen less each day for me.

“Well, Emiya? There’s still a couple of more positions available.”

“…Well, it delicate but I…!”

Suddenly just when my opinion on the matter was voiced, the door was slammed opened with a loud thud. The strength put into the force of the slam was capable of knocking of few of the boxes to the ground. Issei tumbled over his chair, hitting the floor with his back. I merely turned over in panic and what confronted me was that of a fierce predator readying to pounce its prey.

“SHIROU!”

The sound rivaled that of a tiger roaring through the jungle!
Fujimura Taiga, otherwise known as Fuji-Nee. Her breath was heavy with slight droplets of sweat seen on her forehead. The way her legs trembling right now shown how exhausted she was. The most noticeable features were the large bag she carried on her back like a sack of potatoes.
Issei must have gotten up as he picked up the chair and gave Fuji-Nee a questionable expression.

“Ms. Fujimura, may I ask why did you barge in here yelling for Shirou?”

Fuji-Nee ignored Issei’s question. She stared at me with her eyes while huffing out a short gasp of air. She’d always act weird but to see her like this was more than unusual at best.

“I. Need. Shirou. Now!”

“But Ms. Fujim ---!”

“Nope!”

“But ---!”

“I said nope!”

Before Issei and I could respond, Fuji-Nee grabbed me by the collar with inhumane speed and dragged me out through the hall. The last image before leaving the room was watching the glasses fall off of Issei’s face.

I was misfortunate.

Various student stared in bewilderment as the homeroom teacher dragged me against the floor like a captured animal. To think Fuji-Nee manage to hold her position for so long make me wonder if there was some spell placed on the faculty.

“And we’re here!”

Tossing me to the floor, I noticed the empty room littered with various pieces of tools and other school utensils. New desks were lying flat with an available chalkboard position near the wall.

A supply closet.

“W-wait Fuji-Nee! Why are you dragging me here?”

“Yeah, sorry about this. Well, you see that I might have gone overboard with the Kendo club earlier…”

She began rubbing the back of her head. Don’t tell me that…

“I swear I tried not to hit them too hard! I mean it was one practice and… things got broken…”

The sack hit the ground. Inside were broken handles of bokkens. Each one battered and bruised with firm marks of someone gripping the handle harder than they should.

“"W-What are you thinking!? You're always like this even though you'll be turning twenty-five this year!"

There had to be magic involve for this woman to have remained a teacher for all these years!

“"Haha… sorry to trouble you Shirou but the club doesn’t have that many money to spend ordering a new batch anytime soon. Could you fix it for me, please?”

“What make you think I can even fix this?”

“I may or may not have threatened Issei with his grades for not telling me about your little blacksmith hobbit. He vouched you could restore almost anything.”

She nodded her head as if confirming the information.

“You shouldn’t believe everything people tell you.”

“Well, Issei is a monk-in-training and monks don’t lie Shirou.”

Doing a comedic bow with her head slammed to the flow, I couldn’t help but twitch. The worst part was her need to chant, “please save me from trouble” consistently.

“Alright, alright. Just leave the room and I’ll get started.”

She waved with a Cheshire grin and ran off to her class – no doubt late to it. Sometimes I wonder what goes trough her head at times.

I glanced at the bag and resigned myself to my fate. Pulling a destroyed bokken from the pile, I examine its condition…

…It would seem I’d have to be delicate for this procedure.

There were large cracks in the wooden frame. The handle itself was broken into two pieces. Judging by the dull side of the blade, Fuji-Nee was using too much blunt force. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the members of the kendo club. Taiga Fujimura was an extreme Kendo champion.
People often say she had a natural talent at handling a blade. There were rumors on how a dark aura appeared around here whenever she was in a duel.

“---She sounds more like a monster honestly.”

My hands are placed in the center of the weapon. Usually, it's hard to fix things like these where using tools are a no go. However the fact that I knew what to fix and how to do it meant there was something unordinary about me.

I block off my vision and look inside the bokken with my sense of touch.

In that moment…

An image appears in my head. It was like a scan of the blade was shoved in my skull in te form of a blueprint. From the schematics and the damage, it is impossible to establish repairs. It was better to throw it out and buy a new one.

Guess performing the only “magic” Emiya Shirou can do it required.

“…Man. This is the only thing I’m good at.”

That’s right. Emiya Shirou is a failure at utilizing proper magic.

Although even despite being that much of a failure, there were still things I was capable of doing. Visualizing and restoring/strengthening. When Kiritsugu first saw my ability up close, he mentioned it as “Useless knowledge.”

So in all, it turns out that my high point is just about fixing things like this. I don't have to open them up to look for damage. If I can search for broken parts and use the skills to repair them, most things can be fixed. Though, that's only the case for simple things that can be set with "amateur knowledge".

Perhaps this also stems as to why I like going to the forge whenever I can.

None the least I regain my focus on the bokken. Mana flowed through the object in hand, and the cracks began stitching itself back together. The handle did the same thing as if someone was using s needle thread and sewing the broken parts together again.

“---Done. Time for the next one.”

~0~o~0~

After 15 minutes of fixing te blade, I left them in the room and moved down the hall. As I turned the corner, I can see Issei speaking with a fellow student…

…Wait. That’s not right.

I never saw her before at the school even though I see a lot of people come by now and then. She looked timid. Her hair was gray or maybe silver – I wasn’t entirely sure from my distance. She wore a what looked to be a lab coat with a black shirt, skirt, and stockings. Her hair was covering one of her eyes while the glasses she wore shimmered. Her tie was red.

“Oh, Emiya.”

Before I noticed, Issei had called me from across the hall. I glanced at him and instantly the girl’s eyes met mine.

It felt weird.

Something in me wanted to run from her. The way she viewed at me with that accusing look was unfair. She was judging me.

“Are you alright?”

It was gone in an instant. The judgemental look she gave me was replaced with one of concern. It was almost something out of a horror movie.
Distracted by the brief thought, Issei, and the girl was already in front of me giving confuse expression.

“Hey Emiya, she asked if you were alright?”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“That’s right. You haven’t met the new girl yet. She’s transferring here for the remainder of the semester. Her name is Kreiglight Mashu. Please make sure to treat her good from now on.”

“Huh? As if I need to be told that by you of all people.”

It was an off-hand comment, but it got the girl slightly laughing. Maybe what I saw earlier was just in my mind or something.

“Yeah, yeah. Listen Emiya; I’ll be going back to the club room so could you show her to the classroom?”

“Alright.”

Issei left us and went back to the club room on his own. Just then did I noticed how empty the halls were, and it was only the two of us alone. Due to Fuji-Nee request, I’m probably late of I don’t hurry back in time.

“Well, sorry about this but how about we head to class and I’ll show you the rest of the school later?”

Mashu nodded and followed me as we head to class. It was silent as we walk the halls. It was spooky, and my spine felt a small shiver from earlier. Now that I think about it, did she glared at me?

Regardless, we made it to class in time.

It's exactly eight o'clock. The first homeroom bell has rung, so Fuji-Nee should be here in about four minutes.

"--- Phew." Taking a deep breath, I head to my seat.

“Jeez Emiya, you’re too noisy in the morning. Don’t tell me mister monk or Fujimura had to grab you to help with something? It’s not my concern, but I appreciate it if you stayed quiet would ya?”

The person speaking to me was Matou Shinji. He was a friend from my middle school, but we had a falling out some years back.

“Yo. Is the archery club doing well, Shinji?”

“W-what!? Of course you idiot! There’s no point in telling an outsider the details in the first place. I swear we’re going to win the next competition!”

“I see. Mitsuzuri must be working you hard to win.”

“Like I need to be told that! Besides…?”

Shinji glanced at the girl behind me. Oh. That’s right. He must not be aware of the new transfer student.

“Shinji, it seems you haven’t met her yet. This is the new transfer student Kreighlight Mashu.”

Mashu immediately tense while staring at Shinji. Was she shy?

Shinji didn’t wait and barged past me and stood in front of Mashu. He wore a smirk that I saw all too often on his face. Usually, that smile meant something I would disagree to. Before I spoke up, Shinji beat me to it.

“So you’re the new transfer student, huh? What say we ditch Emiya over here and allow me to show you around the place. I’m sure you’d be bored with him acting as your guide.”

…

Mashu said nothing. Her stance was rigid, and her hands placed on the side of her hips. And surprisingly enough I was about to butt in and stop Shinji when…

*Smack*

The red handprint laid bare on Shinji’s right cheek. His back is to the floor while he laid unconscious from the force of impact. As I turned up to look at Mashu, I saw her left hand raised with a smoke trail.

“How unpleasant. It there something wrong?”

This girl was fierce. Even more ferocious then Fuji-Nee when she’s practicing kendo. It seemed to get on her bad side wasn’t something pleasant.

The homeroom bell rings. A homeroom teacher would come five minutes early, but our homeroom teacher isn't like that. Instead, she came in saying…

“I’m late, I’m late, I’m late---?”

Fuji-Nee came running in but momentarily stood as she examined Shinji’s unconscious body on the floor.

“Why is Matou laying on the floor?”

Mashu took a seat next me as my eyes twitched at what transpired today.

~0~o~0~

After Mashu had introduced herself to the class and the bell rang soon after, students left leaving her and myself alone again. Fuji-nee wasn’t with us as she ran back to grab the sack of bokkens back to the kendo club. I swear one of these days she’ll get fired and cry away as I cook her another meal again.

I’m misfortunate.

“Excuse me, senpai. Is now a good time to show me around the school now.”

Mashu tugged at my sleeve while looking down to the ground. She was kicking the ground like a child too shy for her own good. It was pretty cute. However, there was something I wanted to tell Mashu.

“You don’t need to call me senpai. We’re in the same grade and class, so that makes us equals. For now on you can call me by my name, okay?”

Her reaction was a bit too much. The shock expression she wore told me that she didn’t expect that. Mashu was indeed funny in her way. She managed to knock Shinji unconscious and is now acting embarrass and shy around me.

I don’t understand girls.

I took my hand out and gave it to her in a kind gesture.

“My name is Emiya Shirou.”

“A-alright. My name is Kreighlight Mashu.”

We shook then left class. The hallways were empty for the third time today. It was strange how every time I’m with Mashu there’d be nobody around us. I dare say if this was a horror movie this be the perfect time for a killer to come and try to kill us.

“Shirou.”

Mashu stopped in front of me while we walked to the end of the hall. Her posture was steady, and I could see her fingers gripping her skirt.

“Is there something wrong, Kreighlight?”

“Are you in any clubs Shirou?”

Was that suppose to be a serious question?

I wasn’t technically in any clubs as of now. There was a time I tried out kendo and found out how good I was at it. People say that perhaps I was even better at it than Fuji-Nee but considering how she reacts, I withdrew. It’s not like I didn’t like it but if I happen to beat Taiga at her own game she’d come running home in tears and forcing me to prepare meals for her. Kendo was something I even practice at home. The Emiya manor was a large home, and it took me by surprise first when I found out about the dojo. It was quite large and with enough space to train an entire group of students.

“No. I used to be in kendo classes, but I left early on. Why do you ask that?”

“Nothing. You just seemed like the athletic type and…”

Mashu stopped and then continued walking.

I wasn’t sure what she meant by that. I don’t consider myself athletic but after various people mentioning my body, I figured it was due to the kendo training.

“Shirou…is there anything you normally do around town?”

“Well, I usually spend the day at the forge nearby the temple.”

“Temple and forge?”

“Issei, the student you talked to earlier, in a monk-in-training at the Ryuudou temple. Nearby it was an abandoned forge, and I frequently go there and fix around the place.”

“I see. So then Shirou is like a blacksmith then?”

“Yeah. There’s even a rumor going on about I’m “Fuyuki’s Blacksmith.” Honestly, the things people say about it.”

It didn’t bother me. It was genuine in any given sense. I spent a lot of time at the forge, always fixing and tinkering with stuff over there. It was also the perfect place to practice “magic” without anyone growing suspicious of me. Kiritsugu told me that it was important for any magus to protect their secrets and hide their craft.

“Wow. You must be something special around here, Shirou.”

She gave me a smile that was too bright to look. I tried to hide my blush before she noticed.

Don’t think that way idiot. She’s your classmate.

“Shirou do you don anything else around here? Like, hang out with people or work around town?”

“People come to me to fix their things for them, and sometimes money is offered to me. I turn them down. You shouldn’t have to ask for things in return for helping people.”

“Huh? That’s really selfless Shirou. You must have had a superb role model.”

“My father wasn’t that good of a role model. He’s terrible at cooking for himself while looking ill all the time. I only do that because he said: “Helping others is its reward.”

It was funny now that I thought about it. Kiritsugu did a lot of things but being a proper father wasn’t his thing. He tried his best but was not good at it in the slightest. Although there were times he took me to the pond and we walked around, watching the reflection of the pool of water.

Mashu and I left the school grounds and journeyed to the crosswalk. I didn’t learn a lot from her since she kept asking me questions concerning myself. It was weird in a way.

It was time to depart.

“I hope you have a safe trip home.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you for today Shirou. I hope we can spend some more time together again.”

As she left me alone on the side of the street, I began wondering where she lived. If she transferred to our school, it must have meant she recently moved in.

“Guess there’s still time for one last thing.”

As so, the day ends in silence.

However, there is still one thing Emiya Shirou must do before he can conclude for the evening. “Magic.”

I went up the hill, passing Issei’s home temple and navigating past a few trees and branches. There was a dark road that was on the other side of the temple – forgotten by everyone here. Issei only discovered this because I showed him it. I follow the tracks in the dark. It was navigated so many times that losing sight was impossible. The wind blowing past my face didn’t deter me from my destination.

And there it was.

My workshop.

It was an old iron forge. The shed and bench were covered in moss with the fence is a terrible condition. Cracks laid the foundation of the place. Metal pieces of the ceiling hung from the top – threatening to break and collapse the area under its weight.

The door to the inside was locked. But it was for a good reason. After all, practicing here had the rest of someone coming in and finding out. Kiritsugu never gave me an idea on what to do should someone know about magic but he did say that I should deny it at all cost.

I entered the damaged building and sat on the cold, stony ground. The crickets didn’t bother me much. Neither was the sound of monks doing their daily routine from nearby.

In front of me was what kept me up at night.

A sword.

No – in fact, it was an incomplete sword.

Only the handle remain intact while the blade itself was gone. Just a useless remain that couldn’t be used for any other purpose. It was tragic.
Something like this handle built to used as a foundation for a blade hasn’t been given one. It lost its purpose and didn’t know what to do with itself.

I…

“What am I doing thinking about that? I’m so stupid.”

Pointlessly thinking of distracting stuff wasn’t good at all.

I stretch out and adjust my breathing. I tried to empty my mind. Ignoring everything around me and paying attention only to what's inside me, I began the chant.

“---Set. Hamon.”

My circuits flared up like a rocket. At the same time, a mental image triggered in my mind.

It was a person. No name nor face. Just an embodiment of a human hammering steel with his giant tool. The loud clang of his hammer meeting steel was an acquaintance of mine. It was there the moment I began this form of training.

The spell goes off without a hitch, and the glow from my circuits trailed its way down my arm to my biceps and partially up towards my head. 27 channels were active as of now.

The handle glowed with a bright, intense beam capable of burning a hole in my sight.

---Emiya Shirou is a magus.

No – he is a spellcaster to be more precise.

“---Basic structure, analyze.”

The blueprint of the handle appeared in the void I called my mind. Every detail was there, but that was it.

“---Composition, analyze.”

Strengthing and restoration.

One was used to increase the “existence of an object, therefore making it better at what it does. The latter was a means to bring it back to a stable condition. Both went hand in hand when repairing something that is damaged. It was a method blacksmith’s used countless times during the old centuries.

“---Composition, restoration.”

The magical energy began channeling down the handle to the broken point. As though watching bricks being laid upon one another, the mana started forming what appeared to take the shape of a sword.

“…Guh!”

The feedback from doing this was horrible. It felt like a blade was being shoved down my spine. My back arch as the process was complete.

I took a look at the finished product.

A failure.

Even though the blade was restored, it looked crude and unpolished. The edge was incredibly dull that trying to hit something with it would result in it breaking. Cracks were seen covering the small object.

I guess my forging skills weren’t getting any better.

“Dammit. I failed again.”

I wipe the sweat from my brow. Now that I think about it, I realize my whole body is sweating like I've been drenched with a bucket of water.

I glanced at the moon from the opened window across from me. It was as close to a ritual for me. Having to pour my effort continuously only to blow up in my face was something I’m used to for a long time.

~0~o~0~

…He tried to find a way out but couldn’t think of a direction to go…

--------
AN: I liked to point out there will be no pairings within this story. At most characters will become friends or even allies but no romance of any kind will appear.