Author's Notes: To old fans, yes, this has been changed from the original for obvious reasons. I found our resident DA too weak previously.
=====
- Threads of Fate -
- Chapter 3 -
- Complications -
Day 4: February 4th
The streets of Fuyuki were deathly quiet. There were very few people on the streets of Shinto once the sun went down in these last few days. The recent grisly serial murders had everyone sealed in their homes early. Even the Fuyuki police only headed out on patrol in pairs now.
That suited Agent McNab just fine.
The Fuyuki night was cold. As he walked down the deserted streets of Shinto, he could see the vapor trails his breath made and felt the chill of winter even through his suit jacket. Plastered on nearby bus bulletins and lamp posts were warnings issued by the city. The pamphlets suggested all civilians should return home before night or avoid staying late within the city and walking in groups. It would have been good advice... if the killer had been human.
McNab idly thumbed the butt of his sidearm, more as a habit than to check the weapon was still there. His thoughts returned to a previous assignment with the Church in east Europe. He had been ordered to work with Church agents to investigate a village with incidents linked to a Dead Apostle that had fled Japan. When they had finally arrived at the snowy rural village, all the inhabitants were already dead; many from the vampire but some by their own hands. Some had hung themselves or cut their own wrists rather than be taken alive; the blood freezing before it had even touched the floor. The only thing that had seemed alive were the flying specks of snow and the ever constant whistling of the wind that clattered window shutters back and forth. And there was the cold... temperatures that chilled him even past the warmth of his winter jacket.
Though Fuyuki was thousands of miles from that small village in the north, he couldn’t help but feel that same sense of danger and dread. It wasn’t a feeling one could easily quantify, like the general sense of unease from being watched from afar; however, years of experience with the Agency had told him to trust that feeling when it appeared.
He stopped at the entrance to an alleyway before taking a look around, though he wasn’t sure why he bothered; he’d been the only living thing on the streets of the city for the past hour.
Walking into the alley, he spotted the target he’d been tailing for the last few minutes. The man stood silently beside a dumpster; seemingly drunk as he stood listlessly and teetered back and forth. Walking with care towards his target, he gently drew the sidearm under his suit.
“Excuse me, I don't suppose you have a light?” McNab asked.
Turning around, The man reveal his deathly white complexion and lifeless eyes; most likely due to the gouging wounds in his torso and the hole in his neck. Bloodshot eyes and taut dry skin completed the morbid visage. Emitting a raspy noise from its throat, it recognized a new source of blood for its master. With its unseeing red eyes focused on its new target, the Dead charged.
Gunfire lit up the alley as McNab pulled back the trigger on his sidearm. The bullet penetrated through the corpses’ skull; brain matter trailing in its wake. The Dead, not noticing or caring about the wound through its head, simply continued barreling at him. This time, McNab aimed at the torso and pulled back on the trigger until he ran empty. Each bullet slammed into its chest causing it to recoil backwards; it’s body jumping to the tune of some unseen puppeteer as it spasmed back and forth.
The Dead, now with several biologically redundant bullet holes through its body, collapsed back down onto the ground. Wordlessly, McNab reloaded a new magazine into his pistol and then gave a sigh of relief.
Feeling his phone vibrate, McNab grabbed the wireless earpiece and placed it in his ear.
“Hello Ojōsan...” He stopped talking as she yelled through the speaker. Her voice fluctuated from anger, to worry and then back to anger.
“Look, I know you’re mad I didn’t tell you about this but there was no concrete evidence that a vampire was even...” Once again, he was interrupted by the voice that came across the line. On the ground, the Dead businessman emitted another strangled gasp as it began to rise again despite the twelve holes in its chest.
“Hold on, Ojōsan” said McNab. Taking careful aim with his pistol, he unloaded three more rounds into its head. Looking more like hamburger meat than an unliving creature, it collapsed back to the ground. Still aiming down the sights, he counted his heartbeats and waited for any movement.
The body lay still.
He exhaled the breath he’d been holding. Kneeling down, he placed the barrel of the gun on its chest just in case. He was relatively sure the thing would be staying dead from now on but he’d experienced too many horror movies to let his guard down now. Fishing through his suit pocket he withdrew a wooden stirring rod, the ones you’d find in a coffee shop or cafe, and used it to prod inside one of the bullet wounds.
It was dry, just like the other Dead he’d hunted down.
The Dead were drained of blood before they became the familiars of a Dead Apostle. If the corpse was dry then the Dead Apostle wasn’t feeding. Hopefully the damn vampire would eventually get the message and finally leave Fuyuki.
As he stood up, the corpse began to deteriorate. A macabre scene unfolded in front of him. Freed from its master’s magic, the corpse began to breakdown and disappear. Skin slowly dried and peeled away into the air while bone and organs liquefied. The eyes melted into their sockets and its teeth began to stain brown before falling into empty chasm of its mouth. It was as if the corpse was rotting and decaying in seconds instead of months. The body continued to evaporate before even the bones finally vaporized into a pile of dust. Eventually, even that too was blown away by an unfelt wind until all that was left were clothes. From his ear, Sable spoke once more.
Casually pulling out a hip flask his suit pocket, McNab took a swig of the rather sweet contents of the milk tea inside. He’d have to remember to get a bigger one next time; this one was slightly too small to last the night.
“Anyways, Ojōsan, there’s no need for you to come out. I’ve already wrapped up most of the city prop...” he paused as she went off on another rant, leaving him waiting as she finished her piece.
Taking another swig from his flask, he walked out of the alley and returned to the yellow streetlights of Shinto; the streets as empty and silent as he had left them. Something from the edge of his senses left him weary and he glanced behind him back into the dark alley, arm at the hip ready to draw his sidearm.
The alley lay empty and silent. Even the Dead’s clothes had disappeared with him. The agent shook his head before retracing his steps back towards the main road. Maybe going out on these patrols alone were finally getting to his nerves.
The voice spoke in irritation at the tardiness of his response. “Alright, fine. Yes, I know that place... It’s near the cafe you’ve gone to these last few days. I’ll be there in ten,” he replied. With that, he stowed the earpiece back into his jacket.
These nightly strolls had been a regular occurrence ever since he’d theorized there was a Dead Apostle loose in Fuyuki. However, this night... There was something itching in the back of his mind. An unsettling feeling he just couldn’t chase away even though tonight was the exact same as every other night patrol. Sighing with fatigue, he continued walking the empty streets of Shinto.
His footsteps echoed off the building walls and added to the cold night wind. Despite Sable’s rather angry slurred voice on the other line, he appreciated talking to someone on these night patrols. He kept his eyes sharp on the corners and shadows while she went on about the dangers of patrolling alone. He had the heart to not mention to her the difficulties of patrolling the streets of Fuyuki when you couldn’t even stand up straight. Even so...
“Perhaps I should have taken Sable with me. Having her magical sense would definitely help track down these Dead,” he thought to himself. “We are supposed to be partners after all.”
As he continued walking, the lights around him slowly winked out one by one. Slowing his walk he stopped in the middle of the street. Glancing instinctively at the sky for any airborne attacks, he drew his sidearm once more. Past the blowing of the light wind against the cityscape came a chilling sound. At first he thought it sounded like chains banging against one another but the sound slowly changed as it multiplied in intensity. He could could only compare it to a horde of cicadas; a thousand voices that turned into a single giant roar.
He took a pair of sunglasses from his suit and donned them, causing his view to be filled with static as the low-light vision from the glasses activated.
The Dead filled his view. There were over three dozen of them as they poured from alleyways and adjacent streets. With worrying speed, they began to close the distance between them and their victim. Behind him, more Dead began to emerge to cut off his exit.
“Looks like the Dead Apostle finally chose between fight and flight,” thought McNab.
Behind him, he heard the whistle of wind and instinctively rolled to the right. He felt, more than heard, the blow that whistled by his head. The attack impacted against the road where he had been mere moments ago with the force of a massive sledgehammer that sent flying pieces of asphalt into the air. McNab came up from his roll, sidearm at the ready and aimed at the point of impact. Razor sharp claws still embedded in the asphalt, the small Dead Apostle withdrew her hand from the small crater in the ground. Her small stature coupled with her pale skin and crimson red eyes might have had McNab mistaking her for another Einzbern if it wasn’t for the vampire’s raven colored hair. Clad in a simple school girl’s uniform, although different from the local highschool, the Dead Apostle surprised him by giggling. Unlike Homurahara high school, the girl wore a sailor’s outfit normally seen in junior schools; about fifty years ago.
She smiled at him before bowing towards him respectably.
“So you are one of the famed agents of the Church?” said the girl, “The ones the others dare only discuss in whispers? The ones cause us to flee in terror? Consider me unimpressed.”
Calmly and carefully, he calmly holstered his sidearm and wiped the dirt off his suit. Straightening his plain black tie, he said, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not with the Church.”
“Oh? Then do tell, human, who is it that you serve?” she said with a tinge of curiosity.
“The Shin’i Agency. Though you’ve probably never heard of it. It’s not as ‘mainstream’ as the Church of Magus Association... but we’re getting there. Although, I have a minor caveat with your statement. I don’t serve Shin’i. I’m employed by them,” said McNab. The agent brought up his hands in a defensive posture, as if apologizing for his statement. “I know it’s a slight nitpick but Shin'i isn’t royalty or a part of the government. “
“It matters not. All in this town will serve me soon enough,” she said. There was a confidence in her creepy kid smile that had him worried.
“Well, if that’s true then I would, of course, have to know the name of whom I would be serving?” said McNab.
“Ah, where are my manners,” she said, placing her hand on her chest, “I have gone through many names in my time here... Elizabeth... Eliza... but mayhaps you have heard of the name Amarante? I found it a suitable description.”
“Amarante... from the Tochigi incident?” he said.” You’ve been quite the celebrity with the Church and Association. You left three knights dead and two magi wounded in your escape last time. Quite an impressive feat.”
Idly, he brushed the lump on his belt where his cellphone was. Had Amarante been watching closer beforehand, she might have noticed the tall Agent’s hands had lingered slightly longer than they should have over his waist when he’d been patting his coat clean. She might have also heard the minute sound as his phone redialed a number.
“It twas a mere fragment of my power. Let me demonstrate it to you,” she said. Lifting her arms up, she summoned forth an army of black smoke wisps that seemed to circle and surround the street. Hundreds of these wisps seemed to weave in and out between buildings before disappearing into the darkness.
From the shadows of deserted alleyways and building corners came the silhouettes of unliving corpses. Dozens of the Dead appeared like an unending tide of flesh. More eerie than the numbers was their silence. Contrary to what the media showed, the Dead in this world didn’t moan, scream or mutter ‘brains’. More often than not, they were completely silent and were utterly relentless with their lifeless determination to bring their victim down.
“Behold, my numberless army,” she announced, her hands triumphantly in the air.
“This lady really needs to stop drinking her own koolaid,” thought McNab. If Amarante hadn’t been so caught up in her act, she might have noticed the condescending look he was giving her. Ever so slowly, he thumbed his sidearm underneath his coat.
“Now... gratefully perish...” she began to say.
He interrupted her, “actually, I have a question. What’s with the sailor school uniform? “I mean... It doesn’t really fit with the times. No one’s worn something like that for years. ”
“What?” said the girl slowly; her face a look of confusion. The agent’s sudden comment caught her off guard.
“From our intel and the fact several of your servants are wearing Victoria era clothing, I’m estimating you’re at least a hundred years old. Most vampires don’t gather this much power without being at least that old. No... what confuses me is that tacky uniform. Maybe you have weird tastes for young girls? Although I would say that’s slightly creepy given your age.”
The girl narrowed her eyes at McNab as if she could burn him away just by her glare. If he looked closer, he might have seen a vein pulsing on her forehead.
He continued talking calmly, ignoring Amarante’s withering stare, “that might be a Vampire thing though,” he calmly, “perhaps its something to do with infinite youth mixed with continuous mental aging. I’ll have to ask our...”
“Shut up! Shut up you miserable piece of meat!” she screeched in her childish like voice. He could detect anger and outrage in her voice; exactly what he wanted.
“Now that’s just plain rude. Surely a little girl like you would know better than to interrupt someone while they’re talking,” he replied casually.
“Why you annoying little...” a single gunshot stopped her words. Moving with nearly Servant level speed, she twisted her body away as the .40 S&W bullet just barely grazed her cheek.
On the ground, McNab held the smoking gun from his hand. In the blink of an eye he had drawn, aimed and fired the gun in one motion.
“How d...” her words were cut off again as McNab fire another round towards her and the Dead Apostle was forced to dodge once again.
Landing on another lamppost she looked down felt the blood from the bullet that had grazed her arm.
“Kill him!” She screamed in anger to her Dead slaves. He fired another shot but this time she was ready. Jumping from the post, she disappeared into the shadows of the night.
===
Gunshots echoed across the empty city of Shinto and lit up the pitch black streets. Four bullets penetrated through the front windowpane of a cafe before McNab decided it was simpler to kick the wooden front door down. Passing through the empty cafe, he sped past empty tables before vaulting over the counter. Turning around, he took the time to fire the rest of his clip into the first Dead that came through the door. Static washed his view as his glasses compensated for the sudden contrast in lighting.
Rushing through the darkened kitchen, he kicked open the cafe’s rear door. Sidearm at the ready, he aimed the gun down both directions of the alley and breathed a silent sigh of relief when he found it empty. The alley held the distinct aroma of rancid meat mixed with the pungent smell of fish and weeks worth of used cooking oil. Despite his urge to gag, however, it was at least safe for these several seconds.
Fishing out his earpiece, he activated it and spoke, “Sable. Did you get all of that? I’m going to need a ride out of here.”
“I’m three minutes out. Where do you want extraction?” came Sable’s voice. Despite her general goofiness before, his partner’s tone right now was as cold and emotionless as steel. He wracked his mind for a nearby location even as he scrambled to find directions in his mental map. Picking a route, he headed down the right side of the alley; running past dumpsters and upturned cardboard boxes.
“Head for the main street. The one that runs straight through Shinto through into Miyama. I’ll be the man running from an army of corpses. You won’t miss me,” he said.
“Confirmed. 3 minutes,” reported Sable.
Cutting the connection, he continued running through the aging brick alleyway towards the light. Sprinting from the darkness, he passed into the pale illumination of Shinto’s streetlights and was rewarded by a blow to the chest. With the sound of a sickening bone-snapping crack that echoed through the air, McNab fell on his back to the cold pavement; his lungs gasping for air. His head hit the pavement and for a moment his vision split to double. He forced himself to blink and the dizziness faded away although the rhythmic pulses of pain that were beating the back of his head remained. Looking upward, he saw what had hit him.
The broad looking down towards him might have been beautiful once, if she’d still had her lower jaw and fixed the missing chunks of flesh from her neck. Skin tinged necrotic grey, her arm hung limply at a wrong angle; broken from her own attack against him. The Dead’s head tilted sideways to look at him, a seemingly impossible movement considering her left neck muscles were gone.
He aimed his sidearm upwards and pulled back on the trigger until it clicked empty. Above him, the broad turned uglier with every bullet until she finally collapsed to the ground; body littered with bullets. A seemingly final breathe left the woman’s lifeless lungs before her body turned to black smoke and drifted to the breeze of some ethereal wind; only a faint pile of ash and dust left on the ground.
McNab’s head still pounded in pain as he pushed himself from the ground. Looking around, he found his glasses and angrily shoved them in his suit pocket. When he’d left the alley, his glasses had washed white from the streetlamps; temporarily blinding him. It had taken half a second to correct the change but that had been enough to leave him gasping on the sidewalk pavement.
“Damn novice mistake,” he thought to himself angrily.
He kept running; each breathe shooting pain through his chest. Despite the protection provided by his suit’s kevlar padding, he felt the sharp sting of pain from his broken ribs. Running down the main road, he thought he heard laughter in the wind.
“Time to die,” came Amarante’s voice. Her words echoed and resound across the skyscrapers and different buildings in the downtown corridor. From the sky came dozens of familiar shades of smoke that soon materialized a wall of shuffling flesh and bones that sealed his exit from the city and surrounded him.
“Nice acoustics, kid. You know... I have a friend in the music business. I’m sure they’d love to hire someone with your set of skills,” he said to the air. Silence was it’s reply.
For a moment, his brow squinted in annoyance; he felt snubbed from the lack of a response..
All around him, the summoned endless horde began their endless advance. A man in his late fifties wearing a blood stained dress shirt. A brunette wearing a white sweater with blue eyes. Another man with long messy hair missing a section of his neck. A plethora of faces. Each of their eyes vacant and distant. Each one looking to consume his body for Amarante.
“Huh...” said McNab. As the circle of corpses began to close around him, he began to regret not taking his partner with him today.
Gunfire lit up the empty streets of Shinto once more as McNab opened fire against the mob. His targets danced like marionettes to his gun’s tune with every pull of the trigger: A man in his late fifties wearing a blood stained dress shirt, a brunette wearing a white sweater with blue eyes, another man with a macabre smile because the lower half of his face had been eaten away; his teeth stained black and yellow with decay. All of them laid to rest under the agent’s bullets.
The slide to his gun locked empty and the final shell casing fell against the asphalt ground; ringing and echoing into the night like a wind chime. Before him, the horde seemed to have grown even thicker from his attempts to whittle them down. “Three down...” McNab thought, “a hundred to go...”
He grabbed another magazine from his reserve holder and continued firing; the rhythmic report of his sidearm was a drumbeat for the shambling corpses.
Sable’s voice came over the earpiece, “Get down, idiot.”
“Huh?” McNab replied. He turned around, facing west towards Miyama, before a rush of hurricane force winds sent him hurtling backwards onto the asphalt road. He felt the ground tumble past him as he tried and failed to find any purchase on the flat road. His back collided against a street light and he bit down hard on his teeth from the pain resonating in his chest from his already broken ribs. Gripping his arm on the street light as support, McNab looked up just in time to duck as one of the dead flew past his head. The gale-force winds had blown all the Dead down the street along with anything else not nailed down. Dirt, trash, signs and anything else that hadn’t been properly bolted down were blown down the street along with the Dead in what reminded the agent of images from a recent tsunami.
Coughing and stretching his back from the pain, the agent pushed himself off the ground. Before him, in the center of the road, was a pristine sports car parked in the middle of the road. Painted in a quicksilver, the car’s immaculate frame reflected Shinto’s city lights off it’s carbon fiber frame hood like some of the commercials he’d seen before. Retrieving his sidearm which luckily hadn’t been blown too far away, he groggily walked towards the car; hand clutching his wounded side.
Leaning on the right side of the convertible, he greeted the driver. “Agent Sable, excellent timing as always.”
“Get in, idiot,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. Her cold voice and angry eyes belied the cheerful demeanor she had held before.
“I guess the night air ain’t the only thing that got chillier since I last saw you...” he said.
An ear splitting shriek split the night. He turned in time to see one of the Dead leap towards him. Unlike the others, however, this one seemed changed and mutated. Long jagged teeth closer to a shark’s maw replaced the woman’s mouth. Her body seemed drained of all excess fat and flesh, giving a gaunt look. What caught his attention, however, were the inch long flesh rending claws that replaced the Dead’s hands. McNab brought his sidearm up...
“Down!” his partner yelled. Placing her palm outward, Sabler’s eyes narrowed in concentration and a beam of golden light shot from her hands and struck the Dead; vaporizing its body into ether and dust.
“What the ...?” said McNab in surprise. None of the Dead he’d seen had shown that kind of celerity before.
Around him, several of the undead began to morph. Their bodies spasmed and unseen energies warped the corpses into the creature that had just attacked them. A tingle went down his spine in fear and he felt the familiar tingle of adrenaline spiking in his system. He hurled himself into the rear seats of the sports car and bit back against the pain when he landed.
“Ojōsan, I think it is time for us to de-ass the immediate area,” shouted McNab; aiming his gun and firing rounds into the horde.
“Agreed,” she said. Sable decapitated one of the dead with another focused beam of light.before shifting the car’s gears and speeding away.
Behind them, the mutated Dead ran after them on all fours like rabid hounds from hell. He watched as they disappeared from view from the car’s speed and he breathed a sigh of relief. He clambered into the passenger’s seat with care; painfully aware just how fast his partner was speeding down the city roads.
Sable gave him a stare that would have melted steel. "Was this your plan? Go solo so I could find your corpse in the morning?" she yelled towards him, her ponytail flowing in the wind behind her.
"Quite frankly, Ojōsan, I had it under control," he said.
“Under control?” she said exasperated, “being surrounded and about to be eaten by the Dead is under control?”
“Maybe,” he said rather quietly under his breathe.
“Idiot,” she muttered.
The car swerved as Sable took another sharp turn; its tires screeching in protest. McNab held on with all his strength as the car nearly tipped over from the acute angle. The dull thump of tires meeting asphalt once more did little to soothe his nerves. Streetlights whipped by at high speeds as they drove away. A sudden thought jumped to the forefront of his mind.
“Wait, weren’t you drunk less than an hour ago?” he asked.
“Maaaybe,” she answered, inebriation returning in her words. She gave a perky smile towards him that scared him more than the Dead they’d left behind. He put on the seat-belt and unconsciously gripped the car harder.
Sable made another sharp turn, her hands a flurry of motion as she switched gears while holding the wheel. More prepared this time, McNab was able to hold on and prevent himself from accidentally headbutting Sable in the face from the whiplash; although with this wild driving he still felt like doing so. Drifting from the turn, he could see the buildings flying by as Sable sped up the sports car.
“Ojōsan, can we please slow down?” asked McNab in a rather nervous tone.
“But why?” she said with a slight whine, “there’s a perfectly flat stretch of road there.” She gestured to the completely empty and straight road ahead of them.
“Because you’re one mistake away from a seven hundred and twenty degree rollover,” he replied bluntly.
===
Several kilometers later, they finally stopped the car at the edge of Fuyuki bridge. It might have been the third time she smacked him in the arm while driving and called him an idiot that she noticed him wincing in pain longer than he should have. It was at that time that Sable realized he had multiple contusions and two cracked ribs. Stopping the car, Sable finally took a look at his wounds.
“Hold still,” said Sable.
“Ack!” said McNab
“Look, if you don’t hold still it’ll only hurt more.”
“Damnit, can't we do this at the safe-house? Its too cramped and cold in here.”
“Oh quit your whining already and take off your shirt.”
“What!!? Hey n.. now just wait... Gah...”
“See? Now doesn’t that feel better?” she asked.
A warm sensation spread from Sable’s touch. He could feel his cracked ribs slowly setting back into proper place. The pain ebbed away slowly until all he could feel were Sable’s hands on his body. “Does it hurt anywhere else, McNaba-kun?” asked Sable calmly. She stared upwards at him, her eyes almost level with his chin. He could feel her soft warm hands on his body. This close to his body, he could feel her warm breath gently tickle his skin on this cold winter night... Her face was close eno...
“Keep professional... Keep focused,” he thought, “She’s already taken. So keep. It. Professional...” He pulled away from Sable abruptly, much to her surprise.
After an awkward moment where they both stared at each other, he said, “Anyways, thank you for the help back there. I’ll admit I may have been in some trouble back there.” In an attempt to keep face, he started straightening his suit.
She gave a mischievous chuckle at his odd reaction.
“This is why I like you McNab. You’re always so amusing to have around,” she said with a sly grin. Failing to find a snappy line to throw back at her, he simply gave her an annoyed glance.
“Why can I stand Vampires, Demons, and Eldricht abominations but not her,” he thought with annoyance. He forced himself to relax the fist he had unintentionally been tightening.
Taking a long breath, McNab slumped into the leather seat of the car. Grumbling slightly at the lack of a headrest, he adjusted the seat downward and used the shoulder cushions as an impromptu pillow. Sighing with fatigue, he collapsed into the chair and closed his eyes. “You know... with that vampire staying here this entire war just got much more complicated.”
“Mmhmm” agreed Sable. Reaching over towards the glove compartment, she pulled out the half eaten sandwich she had been chewing on previously. Like a kid eating a large bar of chocolate, she bit into the sandwich with a satisfied expression; happily munching into the Rye bread. Unfortunately, in her mad bid to inhale the tasty meal she inadvertently let a dollop of mayonnaise and mustard splatter on to her black pants. Her mouth sealed shut with Gouda and Pastrami, she made a series of “mumphs” and other anguished noises as she searched for something to clean her pants in the car; her one free hand flailing wildly in frustration. From the sounds she was making, McNab guessed she was failing.
Not bothering to open his eyes, he took out a napkin from his suit and handed it to her which she took with an affirmative-pitched, “mmhmm!”
Deciding to crack open half an eye, McNab rotated his head and looked at her with an accusing look, “isn’t that mine?”
Halting in mid bite, Sable innocently stared back and forth between her meal and Mcnab. Finally making a decision, she held the sandwich towards McNab. The fact that in the span of several moments she had demolished almost all of the sandwich most likely hadn’t occurred to her.
Rolling his eyes in disbelief, he pushed the meal away and leaned back once more into the seat. Shrugging her shoulders, she rapidly consumed the dwindling sandwich. Finishing the meal with glee, she opened and then leaned on the car door to enjoy the cool night breeze. They both stared at the darkened Shinto skyline in silence; wondering what the future days in this city would hold.
“Ojōsan, I have a question,” said McNab, “Didn’t Shin’ai specifically tell you to stop leasing sports cars for missions?”
“...”
======
Day 4: February 4th
- Jasmine with Serenity -
Crouching atop one of the higher trees near the Tohsaka residence, Archer observed the situation in spirit form. First there was that odd Saber and then the new Caster. Looking into Shinto, it looked like now there was most likely a Dead Apostle in Shinto. He gave a mental sigh. Truly, this must have been Alaya’s bizarre attempt at humor.
After Caster left the battlefield, Rin had ordered him to take Shirou back to her home. True to Caster’s predictions, Rin had decided to help Shirou rather than chase after her. Upon looking upon the damage, Rin had briefly turned pale before immediately setting to work. Despite Caster’s healing, the fool’s actions would still take a massive amount of time to heal. Unable to help Rin any further, he left her with Shirou and Saber to let her concentrate.
He continued to observe Fuyuki bridge as the pair finally began to drive back into Miyama. As their car finally disappeared from view, Archer wondered who they might be. They didn’t look like any members of the Church or the Mages Association. Magi normally never used guns and Church Executors normally wielded holy Conceptual Weapons and wore clothes laden with cross insignia and holy paraphernalia. These two fit neither profile and he made a mental note to keep an eye on these two.
In any case, he’d have to inform Rin of this new turn of events. A Dead Apostle sulking in the shadows while the Holy Grail War was going on could only mean trouble.
“Archer, could you come back here?” came Rin’s mental order.
Floating through the walls in spirit form, he materialized into the main living room. Rin was kneeling hunched over the prone form of Shirou.
Surprisingly, he found Saber kneeling across from Rin. Though she still wore her armor, she had removed her two gauntlets for better control. In her hand was a damp cloth and she was gently wiping the sweat from Rin’s brow as Rin continued healing the hurt Magus. This continued for several moments as Rin healed Shirou while Saber assisted Rin in any way she could. Not wanting to interrupt their silent team dynamic, Archer said nothing. After all, he might be able to call upon thousands of Noble Phantasms but when it came to healing broken bones and internal bleeding Rin would be the better magical healer.
The light from Rin’s hands faded and from his position, Archer could see Shirou’s chest was healed.
“Huh... that was quicker than I anticipated,” Rin said. Yawning, the twin tailed magus stood up and started walking towards the house stairs. Both eyes appeared closed as she moved past her tall tanned Servant.
“Rin?” asked Archer.
“Sleep,” moaned Rin before slamming her palm into her approaching servant’s face and pushing him away. “Guard... stuff...”
“There’s something you should know ab...” Archer said.
“...morrow,” muttered Rin before yawning again. The raven haired master slowly plodded up the stairs, drained of energy, like the Dead he’d seen mere minutes ago.
“I better make sure she doesn’t fall asleep in the hall,” thought Archer. Giving a quick glance towards Saber and Shirou, he followed Rin to her bedroom.
===
Archer returned downstairs after tucking his troublesome master to bed; which had taken more effort than he’d intended. Rin had collapsed unconscious the moment she had been within sleeping range of her bed. It had taken all his agility and skill to position her to the head of the bed and tuck her in without her waking up. Unless you were prepared to dodge gandr and spells of mass destruction, you didn’t want to wake up Rin at night.
Walking back into the living room, he saw Saber still in her seiza sitting position; eyes closed in meditation. Beside her lay Shirou, still unconscious from his wounds. Saber opened her eyes at his presence.
“Is everything suitable for you, tonight?” asked Archer. The knight gently nodded her head.
“Then if you are comfortable here, I shall return to watch over Rin,” said Archer. However, as he turned for the stairs, Saber spoke.
“Actually, Archer, if it is alright with you, could you brew me a pot of tea? I would appreciate the warmth during the night,” she said.
For a moment in time, both servants stared at one another in silence. On one hand, he should return to Rin to guard over her while she slept. Saber herself was also now a wild card; he couldn’t be quite sure just who she was. On the other hand, he was definitely sure this was the Saber he had known and it would be rude to refuse her request.
Finally, Saber gave him a warm smile that finally broke his resolve.
“Very well. I’ll brew you some tea,” said Archer as headed into the kitchen.
“Thank you, Archer,” he heard her say through the kitchen doorway.
He placed the kettle on the stove before heading straight for the left most cupboard for the tea. Inside it were dozens of different types of tea leaves, ranging in type from Oolong and Darjeeling to herbal tea. There were varying types of tea quality in Rin’s cupboard, ranging from the lower quality “dust” or fanning teabags used by low end cafes, which were just the minute particles on the bottom that were left after tea leaves were sorted, to the expensive real full tea leaves that could easily cost over two thousand yen for a cup. However, only the best could be given to the King of Knights.
He moved aside several metal tin boxes before bringing out a certain ornate metal box; the one that held Rin’s exotic Chinese leaves.
As he readied the tea on the kettle, he looked into the living room to see Saber moving Shirou to one of the couches in the room. Somehow, Saber had also acquired a thick comforter and carefully covered Shirou with the blanket.
Taking the tea from the kitchen, he gently placed the fine china onto the table. With refined and precise movements, he carefully poured both of them a cup. Taking a seat across from Saber, he waited and observed as she took a quick sip of the exotic tea. Her face turned to one of surprise and her olive green eyes turned towards Archer.
“It is quite good,” she said with a slight nod.
“Thank you,” he replied with a satisfied smile. That made two out of two people that enjoyed his tea.
Silence returned to the room as the two Servants drank from their china wordlessly; Saber sat on the ground while Archer lounged comfortably on one of Rins ornate chairs. Taking in a large sip, he savored the tea’s rich earthy flavor.
“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me who you are,” said Archer, breaking the silence.
Saber smiled. “No, of course not. It is more amusing this way.”
Rather than being annoyed, Archer simply returned the smile. Truth be told, he hadn’t expected her to. From the evening’s earlier conversation, he realized he wouldn’t be obtaining any information from her directly. Right now, this simple tit-for-tat was just a game for him; gaining any new information would be a bonus. Truth be told, he found it kind of fun.
He chuckled in response. “My, you are an annoying one, servant Saber. Always fluttering between the truth,” he replied.
“That is because I learned it from an old master. Perhaps you might know him?” she said. Saber brought the cup to her lips, hiding a smile.
“Touche,” said Archer, “though I wonder what your master would think of you hiding secrets from him.
“Perhaps the same thing Rin would be thinking. Though I dare say your ability to weather her wrath, compared to Shirou’s, would be... shall we say... inadequate. Perhaps if you had been a Saber-class Servant...” replied Saber.
Archer chuckled. In this regard, he couldn’t argue with Saber’s logic; Rin’s firecracker temper would be difficult to control if she ever found out he’d been lying to her. Conceding defeat, he offered his concession by refilling their cups which she accepted.
Putting down the teapot, he picked up the teacup and enjoyed the relaxing smell of tea; closing his eyes to enjoy the fragrance. Another reason he had chosen this tea was its rarity. He wasn’t sure how Rin had purchased it, but it had been impossible to find in his time after he parted company from Rin all those years before... or would that be in the next few years? Idly, he wondered if perhaps it was something originally purchased from Rin’s father, Tokiomi, before the 4th Grail War. He’d have to ask Rin when they had a spare moment. Opening his eyes, he saw Saber staring absentmindedly at her cooling tea; her eyes looking deep within the liquid’s orange reflection.
“Is something wrong with the tea, Saber?” asked Archer.
Her green eyes looked up towards him, “Hmm? Not at all. The tea is wonderful, it is simply that...” Saber paused and looked far into the distance outside the window. Her face showed her mind deep in thought; taking care to choose her words carefully.
“We might be enemies tomorrow, Archer, but this peaceful serenity we have right now...” She paused as she took a small sip of tea.
“I will definitely miss it,” she said.
The room grew still as her odd words seemingly brought a peaceful lull after them. Outwardly, Archer simply continued to gently sip away at his tea. In his mind, however, his mind churned over her words. It was a rather odd thing for the King of Knights to say. He’d never known Saber to be quite so... sentimental. Making a mental note, he carefully stored these thoughts into his mind for later.
Finally breaking the mood, Archer spoke. “My, that was quite poetic there, Saber.” said Archer in a slightly mocking tone.
“Archer...!” exclaimed Saber. Her eyes narrowed in anger as she turned her face towards Archer. Her anger was tempered, however, when she saw Archer with the warm friendly grin on his face. She smothered her annoyance in an attempt to avoid Archer’s playful attempt at goading her. Exhaling a slight sigh, she returned to her normal controlled demeanor.
Archer sipped his tea, “although, there’s no problem with a warrior also being a poet.”
Giving his words some thought, she nodded in agreement. “Yes, I suppose that is true,” she replied before relaxing back into her seiza sitting stance. With hot tea to accompany them during the night, Archer and Saber both sat in silence; ever vigilant yet enjoying the quiet serenity that came with the night.
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- White -
“Hey, kid? Do you remember what happened to you?” he asked. “Hey, kid... Kid? Oye, can you even hear me?”
He snapped his fingers in front of the child’s eyes and the kid finally turned to look towards him.
“Who are you?” he said, “can you tell me your name? Do you even know know who you are? Kid?”
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