Chapter 7: Angry Crow Takes Flight

*Homura*

"Kagari-kun." My eyes snapped open at Miya's voice and the two sharp knocks on the doorframe accompanying it.

"Come in." The door was open before I even finished speaking, Miya sliding the shoji open with her foot. The landlady and proprietor of the Izumo Inn was wearing a smock over her clothes and had her hair wrapped up in a bandana to keep it free of dust. Both of her arms were full of a basket, stacked high with linen.

"You may want to get dressed. One of the little birds has found herself in a spot of trouble." Miya poked her head in. Ah. An unwinged Sekirei. It was time for Homura to make an appearance – rather, for 'Kagari' to make a disappearance. "Don't dawdle. I believe Minato-kun could use some help."

Minato. I froze, halfway through rolling out of bed as my heart skipped a beat. Minato Sahashi. The newest tenant of the Izumo and one of the two men that could be my Ashikabi. The boy wasn't… exactly my type, though I could say the same for his older brother and other possible Ashikabi: Shirou Emiya. Though Minato was shorter and a bit thin – petite almost, compared to me – the way most of my chosen clients were… well, maybe if he were a woman I might feel less conflicted. Not even Shirou's exotic red-and-white hair, tan skin and piercing golden-brown eyes were enough to change that.

…even if the itching under my skin said otherwise.

"Musubi-chan?" Miya's voice called out, jerking me from my thoughts as she moved away from the doorway and calling for the young Sekirei. "Minato-kun isn't answering his phone. Would you mind stepping out to ask him if there's anything he wants from the store? I was planning to go shopping soon."

I stopped idly scratching my chest through my sleep shirt, not entirely sure when I'd started. My chest was oddly tender. Sensitive.

"Thank you, Musubi-chan. I can take over the laundry." Miya's voice carried – slightly louder that it needed to be. "Go change into some dry clothes before you head out. Thank you dear."

Warning received, I shucked off my shirt and grabbed the concealing black clothes I used as my 'combat outfit'. I wouldn't have much time; Musubi was as quick at changing clothes as any newly released Sekirei. That was to say, she'd start undressing immediately where she stood – a fact verified by Miya's rebuke of "Modesty, girl! We have neighbors!" – instead of waiting to get back to her room or any other semblance of privacy.

The younger birds just didn't have the time and exposure to humanity to learn the modern (proper) sense of propriety older numbers like me had.

Covered head-to-toe in the form concealing black clothes and jacket, and with my half-mask firmly in place to conceal my facial features, I snuck out the back of the house while Musubi was distracted. There was a high-rise being built near the construction site Minato was working on, it would be a good place to intercept Musubi on her way to find the young Ashikabi.

Hopefully in a plausible enough way to avoid having an 'altercation' like Uzume – who'd made the mistake of letting the battle-crazed Sekirei know of her status as a Sekirei as well and had to fend off Musubi's wild attacks…

…while in the middle of the communal bath. The naked, one-way fight had spilled into the hallway… and then the backyard before Miya and Minato (but mostly Miya) had diffused it.

I landed on the red I-beam forming the bare-bones skeleton of the new construction. From the vantage point, I could see the Izumo and Minato's worksite – but no sign of Musubi yet. As I settled to watch, I pulled my phone out to check if I had any messages from Takami while I was asleep. Last time we spoke, she hadn't mentioned that there would be any new birds released today. If memory serves, one might be coming up in the next few days, but her last number wouldn't be ready to spread her wings for weeks yet.

No messages from Takami. It was the middle of the workday, but… I hit the call button.

…

No answer. That wasn't a surprise, but it was still a disappointment.

PING!

My traitorous heart leapt, but the notification was not from Takami – as I'd hoped – but from Matsu. Swallowing my disappointment, I opened the message.

Quit pinning and look to the right, dummy. Big and Green. Can't miss. Minato is there. The bum and the wonder twins are too

That creepy little witch… I looked up, glaring at but not seeing the spy satellite she was most likely watching me through. So she was going to be my support on this one? I'd wondered how – and why- Miya had taken the effort to get involved over a lost bird. Outside of helping Sekirei like myself and Matsu, Miya took a pointed effort to distance herself from both MBI and the Sekirei Plan.

Matsu must really be invested in her newest project… Still, I looked to the right and oh! Wow. That… that was a big forest. In the middle of downtown. In plain sight. I sighed. What was with the newer numbers and the complete lack of respect for what secrecy meant? Was this really the work of a brand-new number?

It was something along the lines of what I might expect from a single digit. Or maybe more.

PING!

Heads up

I looked up just in time to see the miko-themed girl I was waiting for leap by. Ugh, just like with Tsukiumi, I could see her underwear as she leapt overhead in a skirt that barely reached her thighs. Miya was going to have her hands full with teaching this one modesty.

"Minato isn't here anymore." I spoke up, startling her as I gained her attention. Her arms pinwheeled as she tried to halt her momentum on the I-beam above me. "But I know where – woah!" was forced to duck back as Musubi's fist passed through where my head was a second ago.

"Hold on!" I shouted as I leapt, kicking out lightly and bouncing off a support beam to gain some distance. "If you hit the beams, you'll bring down the whole structure down on us!"

Musubi leapt after me, preventing me from gaining any distance as her arm cocked back for a haymaker. A burst of tightly controlled flame pushed me out of the way of her attack. As I spun through the air, I released another burst of flame to bleed my momentum and land neatly on a parallel beam from the one I was aiming for.

"Woah!" Musubi was not nearly as nimble in the air, barely managing to check her blow as her feet skidded on the metal of the I-beams. "Whew! That was close!" She wiped a fake bead of sweat from her brow. "Excuse me, but could you please stand still? Miya-san and Minato-kun will get upset if I cause any caloric damage."

Caloric?

"Musubi," I couldn't help but correct her, "I think you mean 'collateral' damage."

"Oh yeah!" She beamed "You're right! Thanks mister. Hehehe, you must be pretty smart: you sound just like Mr. Kagari." I just about choked on my mask. "Still," she squared up her fists and dropped into a ready stance, "tell me where Minato-kun is now or I'll even risk Miya-san's scolding!"

What a terrifying girl.

"Over there…." I pointed to the–

"Woah! That's so big! How did I not see it?"

"Yeah…that" I sighed. This might take a while…

*Minato*

Stepping into the unnatural forest in the middle of the city was… odd. Almost nostalgic. The woods felt… heavy. It was like stepping into another world; only a few meters in and the sounds and smells of the city faded completely. The static clinging to my skin was slowly replaced by the slightly humid air – like I was lying in a grass bed, or freshly mulched lawn. Dark and cold, but somehow welcoming and relaxing.

I hadn't been to the Gardens in years, yet somehow… its new state reminded me of the paths Yukari and I used to roam as kids back in the countryside.

It reminded me of my dream from this morning.

Strangely, that recognition seemed to settle my nerves. It was proof, however indirect and distant, that I wasn't crazy. Oh, I was in an insane situation – inside a humongous forest spun from nothing in the middle of a city, chasing after a girl who might just be a hallucination (though I was growing more sure she wasn't), and becoming an unwilling participant in the assault (and possible death) of MBI soldiers and the destruction of property and had actual guns fired at me, oh god – sure, but I wasn't crazy.

The pervasive feeling settled my nerves, strangely enough. I wasn't in any better a place but… accepting the helplessness of the situation gave me confidence. I couldn't do anything on my own. I couldn't stop… I wasn't strong enough to fight off Seo or the twins, and the people who were strong enough… like Shirou… or Musubi…. I didn't have them with me.

"Seo." I broke the silence, addressing the violent thug of an Ashikabi and his not one but two Sekirei who'd already attacked me once already and – I couldn't get the smell of burning metal out of my mind. "Why did you attack those soldiers? And… what do you intend to do once we find Kusano?"

"What do I intend…" Seo hummed, looking out into the woods as he came to stand next to me. "I guess… I could say that now that there are no witness, I planned on taking you out." My breath hitched, but I wasn't surprised. "Now that we're this far, I'll find the Green girl, capture her and take her home with me."

I heard the crunch of Hibiki's and Hikari's footsteps approaching from behind.

"Or something like that…" He half-turned, throwing me a roguish grin. "The truth is, I don't care for any of that. It sounds like work to me. Besides, can you imagine what Hibiki and Hikari would do to me if I brought home another Sekirei?"

"Seo…" Complained Hibiki.

"Damn right, you bastard." Growled Hikari.

"Nah, I'm not that heartless." Seo continued. "I just don't like the thought of forcing little girls to fight. Its why I'm here to stop anyone from claiming the Green Girl unless she wants them too." He gave me a searching glance I found myself matching.

"It's also why I don't care much for MBI or their toy soldiers." Seo scowled, a dark look crossing his face that turned his intimidating height and wild, scruffy appearance into a downright threatening visage. Hard and angry.

"How do you feel about your Sekirei? How would you feel if she was no longer there?" Like I lost something irreplaceable. My life has changed so much since meeting Musubi that I'm not sure what I'd be like if I didn't have her around. Like I might retreat into the holding pattern of studying and failing and cutting myself off from society until I never reemerged. "That feeling goes both ways. How many Ashikabi and Sekirei would be happier if they could just live their lives together?"

I would for one.

"You don't think Sekirei want to fight against one another?" I asked. That seemed… not quite right. Musubi wanted to fight regardless of my wishes. I was the one who didn't want to fight. Didn't want her to fight. Shirou had to make a rule to stop Musubi and Akitsu from going at it… Miya-san had to do the same between Uzume and Musubi. Even if Uzume didn't want to fight at the time, what had she said afterwards…?

'We're Sekirei. Fighting is what we do'.

Hell, Hibiki and Hikari didn't hesitate in fighting Musubi when we first met, even to the point of almost hitting me with their attack. That and… and they looked excited attacking those soldiers earlier.

"I'm saying MBI never gave any of us a choice." Seo snarled. "They raised the Sekirei. Told the Sekirei there was no option but fighting. How do you fight that kind of indoctrination? To the company, you, me and the Sekirei… we're all just toys. Entertainment. They want to watch us struggle. Watch us break. They don't care that we all have lives and feelings. That we're all just trying to get by with those we love. That's why I despise them. They don't care how many people get hurt or die. If it wasn't for them then Aki–"

Seo cut himself off and turned away.

Something deeper was going on here. I knew Mid Bio Informatics was more than just a biopharmaceutical company. Their CEO personally called (and threatened) me as to the rules of the Sekirei Plan when I kissed Musubi. From the way Seo was speaking… I could safely assume I wasn't an outlier. MBI was monitoring the Sekirei and the Ashikabi. They even funded our needs like food and clothing. But for what purpose?

"That's why we fight." Hibiki shuffled up, laying a comforting hand on my shoulder. "If we win… eventually Hikari and I will have to fight each other."

"And I'd have to watch one of my girls defeat her sister." Seo added. "All because some corporate assholes can't leave well enough alone."

"That's why we do what we do." Hikari almost growled the words but… the way her nose scrunched up and she looked away… it wasn't in anger. "If we can stop Sekirei from finding their Ashikabi, if we can eliminate them before they get too far…"

"Then those little birds won't have to suffer the same pain we will." Hibiki finished.

"And now? If… when we find the Green Girl?" I pressed, taking a step away from them. I… I wouldn't say I didn't see their reasoning. I couldn't agree with it, but I could see it. I didn't want anyone to get hurt but… was denying people their chance at happiness a good thing? Would I rather have met Musubi, even if it meant I had to lose her, or would I rather have never met her at all?

What a dumb question.

There was nothing that could happen to make me regret meeting Musubi. My life has changed… I have changed so much since meeting her I couldn't imagine anything else. Didn't want to.

"Then we rescue her." Seo answered. "Let the idiots fighting for her fight amongst themselves if they want to. I know a safe place we can drop her off at if it comes to–"

A flash of light interrupted him.

"–what the hell?" We blinked against the sudden blinding flash. There was a girl… a girl made of translucent light, floating in mid-air where a second ago there was nothing. Vibrant green eyes stared out from beneath a halo of golden-yellow hair that flowed down to her knees and splayed around her pale crème dress. She was so tiny… nervously looking about with one hand brought up to her mouth to chew on the hem of her sleeve.

If it weren't for Seo and the girls also starring agog at the tiny, floating girl I would have thought I'd finally cracked. Wait…

"Ku-chan?" I gasped. It was her. Kusano, the girl from my dream. She was the Green Girl. A Sekirei. Her eyes locked to mine after I spoke, her hand pulling away from her mouth to give me a beautiful, happy smile. Cherubic.

Onii-chan. I felt the words more than I heard them.

"Holy shit…" Hikari cursed, "can she do that?"

"…can we do that?" Hibiki asked her sister, the two sharing a look before their heads turned in unison to give Seo a look.

Kusano's hand pointed off further into the forest, but not the direction we'd been travelling.

"Is that… you're in there?" I asked, feeling it to be true even as she nodded. Was this… part of her powers? I took a step forward, but Kusano suddenly tore her eyes away, her smile vanishing as she looked fearfully behind her. When she looked back, her green eyes were wide and watery.

Onii-chan! Help!

"Kusano?" I stumbled forward, but she disappeared, the link winking out like she was never there. "Kusano!" I cried again.

"Well, well, well. Isn't that interesting." Seo muttered under his breath, but not quiet enough for me to miss. Interesting? Interesting?!

"A little girl is lost, alone and scared in the middle of the forest. Hunted by creeps and you think that's interesting?!" I snarled, turning on him. "What kind of man are you that you can just stand idly by while a child cries? If you think her plight is so interesting, then you can join the rest of the idiots fighting over her." For a second, I forgot myself, poking him sharply in the chest. "Or maybe you want to just fight her too? Targeting innocent people seems more your speed, but me? I'm going to go save that little girl."

I was breathing heavily. Panting really. My finger hurt where I'd poked it against his stupid, muscular chest. When I looked up (wow, he was really taller than me) to see him glaring down at me, I realized what I had just done.

Ah… crap. He was going to beat me up. Or Hibiki and Hikari were going to lightning bolt me and then beat me up. Seo raise done big, beefy arm and I flinched–

"Those are some good eyes you have." Seo's hand came down, clasping my shoulder. Wha…what? "That's a manly face you have there. The face of a cool man. It's a good face."

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. It blossomed when he gave me a roguish wink and adopted what he thought (and I reluctantly had to agree) was a cool pose.

"I knew there was something special about you when I first saw you. Something I liked, and there it is." Uh… what? "You might be a bit small, pretty scrawny, and a little meek–" did he have to say it like that? "–but you've a good heart. I like that."

He let go of my shoulder, stepping away. The words were… embarrassing. Slightly creepy and slightly insulting too, but… I felt like I passed some sort of man test.

"Right. Listen up girls!" Hibiki and Hikari rolled their eyes but came to a loose attention. "New plan. We're going to escort Minato-kun here to the Green Girl and beat up anyone who gets in our way!"

"He's lost it…" Hibiki sighed.

"Truly has." Hikari growled. "But we don't have a leg to stand on either, huh? Alright. We're in."

That… was it that easy? I felt… lighter. Confidant. We were going to save Kusano. Almost as if responding to my improving mood, sunlight began to peak through the canopy, a shining light getting brighter–

"Huh?" Hikari had enough time to gasp before shouting. "Get down!"

I blinked at the flash of bright light – that wasn't the sun, it was a ball of fire! Hikari cast a bolt of lightning into the rapidly oncoming fireball. The two attacks met mid-air and exploded, the shockwave roiling over us and sending me stumbling back away from Seo and the twins. Somehow, I managed not to keep my feet under me.

"Minato-kun!" A familiar voice yelled as Musubi plummeted through the explosion, trailing smoke and fire–

"Shit!" Hikari leapt out of the path of the descending Sekirie.

"Seo!" Just as Hibiki tackled their Ashikabi out of the way.

–and then Musubi hit the ground, almost exactly where they had been a moment ago. This time I was sent sprawling as the ground cratered, throwing dirt and debris into the air. She rose amid the falling detritus, standing firmly between Seo and the twins and myself. I could see that the hems of her skirt and her wide sleeves were pockmarked with holes, the fading glow of embers visibly eating through the material slowly guttering out amidst the impromptu dirt shower.

"What the hell?" Hikari demanded, furious. "What are you doing, idiot?"

"Could have hurt Seo…" Hibiki muttered, the two of them righting the taller Ashikabi.

"I don't think you have time to worry about her." A vaguely familiar male voice cut in, emphasized by a gout of flame cutting through the clearing and forcing the twins and Seo even further away. A tall, grey-haired man dropped from above, landing next to Musubi's crater. He was dressed in all black, complete with a black face mask covering the lower portion of his face. Between that and the long black duster, he looked like he crawled out of the pages of one of Yukari's shonen manga.

"Why am I not surprised to see you two when there is an unwinged Sekirei in trouble?" The man spoke softly, but with a definite edge to his voice. Flames danced around his fingers, small trails spiraling up and around his bicep without igniting his clothes. "And now I see you've upgraded from harassing young Sekirei to attacking helpless Ashikabi?"

"Homura? You got it all–"

I wasn't sure if Hikari wasn't able to say anymore, or if I just couldn't hear anymore as the man – Homura? – sent another gout of flame roaring forward, only to result in another explosion as bolts of lightning clashed against it. I had to cover my eyes against the blinding flash, completely unprepared for when something – no, someone – grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the ensuing fight.

"This way Minato-kun!" I (quite literally) blindly followed the bubbly voice, struggling to keep up as Musubi (once again) nearly dislocated my shoulder. "Mister Homura volunteered to hold them off. He must be super strong!"

"Musubi?" I blinked the spots out of my eyes, revealing the (mostly intact) back of the girl's white haori-styled top as she tore headlong through the woods. Behind us, the sounds of violence were being swallowed by the distance and enormous flora. "What are you doing here?"

How did she know to even look for me, let alone where to find me?

"Miya-san said I should look for you." Miya-san? "She said you weren't answering your phone." The bubbly girl chided me. "She wanted to know what you wanted for dinner so she could pick things up from the store."

What? So… Musubi finding me and… well, it would have been rescuing me if it occurred an hour or so ago, but… anyway, so her looking for and then finding me was just… blind stupid luck?

"It's a good thing I ran into Mr. Homura though," she continued, oblivious to my thoughts. "I thought you'd be at work! If not for him I'd probably still be looking all over the city for you." That Homura person was the one that led her to me? How would he know where I was? "Are we looking for this Green Sekirei too?"

The Green Girl.

Kusano…

"Musubi, stop." I wasn't strong enough to get her to stop moving without hurting myself. Thankfully, she came to a (rather abrupt) stop. Kusano was still in here. Worse, she was afraid and in trouble. The Gardens, transformed as they were, were massive. The underbrush was thick and labyrinthian, the ground itself broken by impassible roots, monolithic trees, and sunken pits of destroyed ground. Without directions, how were we going to find the little girl in all of this?

"We are. Kusano is counting on us to save her but…" I said, frustrated. At Shirou not picking up his phone. At not knowing Mom's condition. At the situation that caused a scared little girl to be lost all alone. And most of all… at my own powerlessness.

"Then we'll find her." Musubi grabbed my hands, clutching them between her own.

"How, I don't…" I started.

"We will." Musubi's impossible confidence didn't waver. "Minato-kun is kind. If she's searching for you like I was, then just like you found me, so will she."

"Musubi…" I muttered, stunned. And I felt it…

Onii-chan…

It wasn't a voice, so much as a feeling. I closed my eyes, blocking out the world around me. Everything but Musubi's hands clenching mine., feeling her confidence, and the feeling of fresh grass brushing across my skin.

Onii-chan!

My eyes snapped open. That feeling solidified, turning into a pull. Musubi smiled as I led us through the undergrowth in the direction of the call. It shouldn't be possible… I had to be hallucinating… finally cracking under the stress of the day…

"Onii-chan!" But as I heard the call turn into a real, high-pitched voice – tinged with panic – I knew it wasn't. We found her. "No! Get Away!" Kusano cried. I couldn't see her, but she was close.

"Kusano!" I yelled, already running towards the voice.

"Get back here, you stubborn little brat!" Another voice came from the other side of a copse. I dove through without thinking; Kusano was in trouble and by the sounds of it, someone else had found her first. Leaves and bristles scratched at my face and tore at my skin and clothes, but I heedlessly pushed forward. "Ugh! Stop struggling or I swear I'll cut your legs off! You don't need those for your power, right? I'm sure my master will understand if you're a little damaged."

I would like to say that I was a peaceful person. I didn't like conflict. I'd never lifted a fist in anger. I'd never started (or won) a fight. Mom would call me passive. Sensitive. Yukari would call me a wimp. But what I saw as I passed onto the other side of the vegetation set my blood to boil. Kusano was on the ground. Crying. Her once pristine white summer dress – the very same from my dream – was stained with dirt and grass. The sleeve of her left arm was torn.

There was another girl, an older one, looming over Kusano. She was wearing a short white dress with a black vest – more of a corset really – with red trim over it. Long brown hair cascaded down her back, and a large black ribbon was tied at the back of her head. High-heeled boots were pulled up to her mid-thigh black leggings. In her hands, raised above her head and poised to strike the sobbing girl at her feet, was a wicked looking black and red scythe.

For once in my life, I acted without thinking.

"Musubi." I snapped, throwing myself forward. I was too slow, too weak to save Kusano on my own…

…but I wasn't on my own. A red and white blur rushed past me, Musubi using her superior strength and speed to outpace me and throw herself at the black-clad Sekirei.

Twang!

The sound of Musubi's fist rang off the metal haft of the girl's scythe as it descended, turning the blow into a desperate last second block from the surprise attack–

Thwack! "Ugh!"

–But not enough to block the other fist as it impacted the girl's cheek and sent her skidding back.

"Kusano!" I slid across the ground, sliding between her and her attacker, using my own body to further shield her from the weapon wielding lunatic threatening her. "Are you okay?"

"Uhn!" She still had tears in her eyes, but she nodded, throwing herself against me and clinging onto my torso.

"You top-heavy cow!" The girl snarled, clutching at a growing red blemish marring one of her cheeks. "How dare you strike me? And you!" She pointed at me. "Get your overly familiar hands off my Master's property, you cur!"

"Minato-kun, can I fight her?" Musubi's kilowatt grin was audible in her voice. Not once had she dropped her form or taken her eyes off her opponent.

Normally, I would say no. Normally, I would do almost anything to prevent Musubi from fighting. I didn't want her to get hurt. For as excited as Musubi got at the prospect of fighting other Sekirei… I was inversely and proportionally filled with fear. If she fought… she might lose. If she lost… then I'd lose her forever.

But right now? As I scooped the sniffling girl in my arms off the ground?

"Beat her." Musubi had confidence in me. I would have to have confidence in her.

"Number 88, Musubi!" Musubi announced, rushing forward. "Nice to meet you!"

"Number 43, Yomi." Yomi spun the haft of her scythe, intercepting and diverting Musubi's opening jab. The weapon was a blur of red, black and silver, spinning around the shorter girl as the wicked blade came around to bear on Musubi. "Now die screaming!"

I watched, heart in my throat as Musubi checked her momentum at the last moment, abandoning her assault as the curved blade sliced across her chest instead of taking her head. A horrid, tearing sound echoed in my ears as the scythe spun back around. This time, it was Musubi who took to the air, leaping over an attack poised to cut through her legs, gaining distance and landing in front of Kusano and myself.

"Musubi!" I cried. "Are you okay?"

Her left hand was curled to her chest, where the scythe cut across her. The entirety of her left sleeve – no, the whole left half of her shirt – was shorn away, and the rest of it sagged and fell off her frame.

"I'm fine, Minato-kun!" Despite that, Musubi didn't sound pained at all. I felt the fear that stuck in my throat melt slightly. Looking more closely, I couldn't see any blood… in fact, the only damage I could see was to her clothing; her left arm wasn't holding a wound, but holding her chest firm and covered now that her clothes were useless. "I'm not hurt at all! Miya-san says I need to be more modest… does that mean during a fight too?"

"Musubi…" The cute, spacey girl was going to give me a heart attack.

"Wow, your adjuster sure did a number on you." Yomi taunted, her scythe coming to rest across her shoulders. "You're all fat and no power. Makes sense you have such a dumb looking Ashikabi."

Rude.

"Hey!" Musubi protested on my account. Kusano too, quietly stuck her tongue out at Yomi and blew a raspberry.

"But that's fine." Yomi continued, unabated, a sick smile spreading across her face. "I prefer it this way. It'll be more fun to cut your limbs off before reclaiming my Master's property!" With that, she charged forward, body held low to the ground–

–Only to leap back as a gout of flame burst through the trees, cutting off her advance. A bolt of lightning struck where she landed – and another! And another! Somehow, the girl was able to dodge the consecutive strikes, but was pushed to the far end of the glade.

Hikari, Hibiki and Homura landed next to Musubi, creating a united front against the scythe wielding psychopath.

"Well, now." Seo said, sauntering into the clearing. "Looks like the heroes arrived in the nick of time. Is that the Green Girl?"

"Seo?" I gasped. "Yeah. We got Kusano." Kusano looked at the taller man, scowled and tucked her head into my shoulder, holding me (somewhat painfully) tighter.

"Mr. Homura!" Musubi cheered. "Mean old ladies!"

"The names Hikari, muscle-for-brains!" Hikari snapped at the obliviously smiling Musubi.

"Not old." Hibiki sulked.

"Musubi." Homura nodded, his gaze not wavering from Yomi for a moment. "As for you, this bird has chosen her home. You can either go home empty handed, or not at all."

"Tch." Yomi scoffed, scowling. "More cockroaches…"

She should have backed down. She was outnumbered. Kusano was safe with me. There was no reason to fight – especially what must look like a losing battle. She didn't back down, however.

"You… you're Homura, aren't you?" She asked instead, fingers tightening around the haft of her scythe as she readied it. "Master will definitely reward me if I take you out and bring back the girl. Killing the top-heavy bimbos is just a bonus."

"Bitch!" Hikari snapped at the same time Hikari frowned and said, "Not heavy."

Sparks and arcs of electricity danced in the space between the sisters.

"What's a bimbo?" Musubi questioned, taking her own ready stance.

"There's no reward in fighting Sekirei." Homura sighed. Despite his words, flames began to trail along his feet and up around his arms. "However, I cannot allow you to take this bird against her will."

"That's enough!" A voice cut through the budding violence, loud and commanding like a gunshot. "Minato, Musubi! Stand down."

That… that sounded like…

"Shirou?" I gaped and half-turned, difficult as it was holding up Kusano with her arms and legs wrapped around my torso, to see Shirou walk out from the shadows between two of the massive trees. How was he… why was he here? Wasn't he with Mom?

There was something… off about him. Unsettling. It felt like a naked blade scraping against my skin. If I could grow facial hair, it was like what I imagined what it would feel like to have a shaving cut. Pain and shock and blood. For some reason… I couldn't move. All of the subtle disconcerting feelings I sometimes felt around him – in the small moments where he grew silent instead of talking with Mom or joking with Yukari – were all blaring their alarm at once. Like I was seeing the real person behind the kindly façade my brother presented.

I… I wasn't ashamed to say that at the moment… he scared me.

"Akitsu-chan!" Musubi cheered and waved with her unoccupied arm. Shirou's Sekirei followed in his wake, her eyes observing the gathered mass of other Sekirei. Shirou's golden eyes, however, narrowed in a piercing glare towards Yomi that didn't waver. Whatever it was, whatever switch in his mind that allowed him to flip from brother to soldier was firmly in place.

A wind blew through the clearing in the ensuing and tense silence, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. It could have been my imagination but… was it getting colder?

"Another one?" Yomi sneered. "Where do you keep coming from? And who the hell are you supposed to be?"

"I have some questions for you." Shirou's voice was clear and strong as he advanced into the clearing. "Who I am depends solely on the answers you give."

"Oh? Like what?" Yomi grinned in a way that could only be called sadistically." I guess I can satisfy your curiosity before slicing you apart."

"I see." Shirou didn't bat an eye at the threat. "Are you the one who attacked the MBI personnel here yesterday afternoon?"

"Yeah? That was me." The girl sneered once more. "What of it? They had something my Ashikabi wanted. Something you are keeping me from obtaining for him." Yesterday? The same day– "It was bad enough I've spent all night hunting her down after killing her babysitters. So, are you here to return my Master's property, or do I get to take you apart piece by piece?"

"Understood. However, you won't be killing anyone else." Shirou took a step forward, his long red coat flaring out as he reached for something at his back. Were those… were those swords?! "You are responsible for the deaths of seven people. The critical injury of another." He took another step, drawing a matching pair of black and white swords. "You may not have been aware, so allow me to say it now: the assault, injury or death of any non-Ashikabi or Sekirei by a participant of the Sekirei Plan is hereby forbidden." Another step. "Any violation to this rule will be punished by death." Step. "My name is Shirou Emiya." The last step put him between Yomi and the rest of us. Even Akitsu remained at her position at the edge of the clearing.

"You are in violation of this rule." Shirou continued. "Your life is hereby forfeit."

She killed seven people? This was… this was what Shirou had been warning me about. What could have happened to me if I met a different Ashikabi from Seo. Did… did that mean this girl is the one who hurt Mom?

"Hahahaha!" Yomi let out an ugly laugh. "And what are you going to do about it, human? Fight me?" No… he couldn't be. It should be Akitsu right. Or all of us. "It's no fun fighting men, you don't scream the right way… but if you're in such a hurry to die, I might as well oblige. I'm number 43, Yomi, the one who will be taking your head."

"Shirou…" I whispered in horror. He really was going to try and fight her. Musubi wasn't able to beat her so… was Shirou about to die?

"Woah, you can't fight her man!"

"What are you doing? Are you trying to die?"

"Is he insane or just stupid?"

"Go Shirou-san! Fight! Fight! Fight!" Several cries rang out simultaneously from Seo, Homura, Hikari and Musubi. It looked like at least a few of them moved to interfere, to stop what was going to happen–

"Akitsu. No one interferes."

Crack!

The sound of cracking ice drowned out any further protest as spires of ice like stalactites rose sharply from the ground, trailing from a thin layer of frost at Akitu's feet. The deadly barrier encircled the clearing, cutting Shirou and Yomi off from the rest of us.

"Yes," Akitsu's voice was soft, but as implacable as the icy prison she created, "Ashikabi-sama."

*Shirou*

I'm sorry Rin, I thought as I readjusted my grip on Kanshou and Bakuya, but it looks like I might break that promise to her. Akitsu's ring of ice wasn't an impenetrable barrier by any means, but it was enough of an arena to prevent spillover… or unwanted aid from interfering before it would be too late.

I took a step forward, swords held outward in an open stance, legs slightly bent.

What I was about to do was stupid. No, it was beyond stupid. How many times did Rin and Saber berate me during the Grail War, trying to explain that only a Servant could stand up to a Servant? How many times did my own experience in fighting the legendary spirits show me just how one-sided a fight against one could be? Lancer killed me once the very first night – and even toying with me he almost killed me a second time. Berserker would have… no, did kill me as well. If it weren't for Saber… for Avalon, I would have stayed dead.

Dying twice in almost as many hours is how my first death game started. Now, seven years later, it felt like I was making those same stupid choices all over again. Was this…

…was this how Archer felt, when he…?

No. Focus.

It had to be this way. I could use Akitsu and Karasuba to fight in my stead. That would be the smart thing to do. Akitsu to limit her movement. Karasuba to go for the kill. If my opponent was an Assassin, like I believed she was, then a Saber in close combat was her natural enemy – even more so if that Saber had Caster support preventing the Assassin from disengaging. If my goal was to bring Mom's assailant to justice… it was the plan I should have gone with.

But if I did that, it would only show me as a powerful Ashikabi. Someone who used their superior might to enforce their own agenda onto the Death Game. The Gilgamesh or Heracles of the War. I knew firsthand how that would only make me a target: someone that the other participants could and would band together to take down.

But I wasn't trying to be just another Ashikiabi, and for that reason I couldn't do the smart thing. If I was to lay the foundation for a new rule for the Plan, I needed two things. The first was witnesses: I needed them to see what occurred and why… and to spread word of it. The second was to prove that I could enforce the consequences of breaking said rule.

To do that, not only would I have to throw down the gauntlet myself, but my response to the rogue Sekirei would need to be swift, brutal and most of all memorable.

I took another moment to study the girl. Small. Lithe. Were she human… I would be confident that I was stronger. But from my experience with Servants – not to mention Akitsu and Karasuba – I knew that a Sekirei's physical appearance often meant nothing as to how strong they could be. Still… If I was right about her being an Assassin, then it might be fortunate for me.

Assassins were the weakest classes – in terms of physical strength – next to Casters. Without the advantage of concealment or surprise – and knowing that there was a wind-aligned Mystery to watch out for – she might be the best matchup for me. Between the combination of my Experiences in the War, training under Saber, my Reinforcement and the runes empowering it… it might be the class of Servants I could beat on my own.

After all… I could be something of a Saber myself.

"Scared?" Yomi taunted, mistaking my examination for hesitation. For fear. "I can see you trembling."

Trembling? Ah. So I was. But I wasn't afraid. No… all of my previous self-justifications for my actions – for tracking her down, fighting myself, making myself a spectacle – were just that: justifications. I wanted to fight her because I was angry. No. I was beyond angry. I was furious. I was going to kill her personally because she had made this personal.

I didn't think of myself as an angry person. I could count the number of people I honestly hated on one hand.

I could also say that only two of those people still lived and, in a few moments… that would be back down to one.

She gave away the moment of her attack before she launched it. the muscles in her legs tensing as she judged the range between me and her scythe. The slight adjustment of her hands on the haft, chocking up her grip for a better swing.

I moved first, refusing to cede the initiative. Her choice of weapon was a problem. The moment I saw her weapon, a copy was made in my Reality Marble, Unlimited Blade Works. From that copy I could Trace its blueprint – its history, its manufacturing process, down to the very component materials it was made of – and Project the copy.

Were she a Servant, I would have been able to read into the history of the weapon – to glean from it aspects of her style and tactics. She was not, however, a Servant. Her scythe was practically blank, only forged by MBI thirteen months ago. No notable battles and only two deaths to its name I was unaware of.

It was a frustrating and unfamiliar counter to an aspect of my personal Mystery for such a powerful adversary to hold.

She exploded into action, countering my charge and rapidly closing the short distance between us, her scythe pulled back for a horizontal swing – no doubt trying to leverage her superior speed and strength for an immediate decapitation.

The scythe was an uncommon weapon. Though it looked intimidating, its primary use was as a tool to thresh wheat. The only reason it was adopted as a crude weapon – mostly by uprising peasant farmers – was that it was almost ubiquitously available for fieldhands and had an edge. Even her scythe – though I could see the points where it was made to be a less effective gardening tool and a more effective killing one – still inherited the top-heavy blade that made its attacks heavy and piercing… but slow.

Against a normal person, that cost of speed wouldn't matter as the weight and momentum generated by the blade gave it amazing penetrative power. A direct hit to the torso could pierce armor and bone, pulp and tear organs with ease. Even a glancing blow had the chance of amputating limbs. Unfortunately for her, though she was fast… she wasn't fast enough.

The empowerment of my runic Reinforcement was more than enough to keep up with her inhumane swiftness.

She had good instincts. Even committed to her current attack, she was adjusting her footing mid swing in response to my charge, changing the slight angle of the blade to fuel the momentum of her next attack when I dodged to speed and strengthen her next blow.

Except I didn't dodge.

Instead, I stepped into her swing, ducking past the lethal sickle, and catching the haft of the black and red weapon just under the blade – guarding against any attempt to hook me on the draw if she tried to spin away. The force of her blow was still enough to send me feet skidding across the ground.

My stance held, and though I used Kanshou to maintain the weapon lock, I was left with two major advantages. The first, was that unlike other polearms, the shape of the sickle precluded the haft of the weapon from being used in either an effective offensive or defensive capacity at this range – especially if the head of her weapon was caught.

The other was that I had a second sword.

"What?!" Her eyes widened in surprise as I whipped Bakuya up towards her neck in retaliation. She jerked back, barely managing to catch the white blade with the other end of the haft before it lodged in her face. "Ah! You impudent wretch!" She shrieked, anger coloring her face as she stumbled back – the force of the blow unfortunately breaking the weapon lock. "Die! Die you filthy dog!"

A diagonal slash this time, from low-left to high-right – to take my leg or just impale me through the chest and end the fight. I didn't stay still long enough to be there, however; her attack caught nothing but air as I pivoted, spinning out and to the right under the wide blow.

That first exchange showed that she was not a peerless existence such as Sasaki Kojiro, the Assassin from my War capable of going toe-to-toe with Saber and win with pure swordsmanship alone. That alone meant my odds of survival skyrocketed. I might not even need Karasuba – my ace in the hole – to avenge me after all.

Still… something was itching at me.

"Stay still and let me slice you!" She yelled, face and voice colored with anger. Was she already off-balance? Or… was this bait? A feint to get me to commit so she could land a solid (and likely mortal) blow? She launched herself forward, form blurring from the acceleration but…

Her movements were so slow. No, that wasn't right… she was fast – fast enough that she could butcher men armed with semi-automatics with casual ease. But compared to a Servant? Compared to my memories of training with Saber, or of fending off Rider behind the archery club?

She was practically standing still.

I countered her charge, refusing to let myself be put on the defensive lest the momentum of the fight turn back against me. Crossing Kanshou over and in front of Bakuya, I feinted with another attempt at pinning the blade of her scythe. She fell for it (she fell for it?), the edge of her blade cutting through where I would have been had I not juked left. Her eyes widened, pupils shrinking to pinpricks as I caught the outside of the sickle with a downward swing of Bakuya – the blow diverting her scythe further forward and down – forcing it out of position for her to block the follow up strike from Kanshou. The black blade cut through the air faster than she could recover–

"A-ah!" she screamed, sheer terror lacing her tone. She stumbled – almost collapsed – backwards, and instead of opening her throat, the Noble Phantasm passed almost harmlessly in front of her face. What should have been a dark crimson gout of arterial blood was instead a diffusive cloud of brown hair – what used to be her bangs.

Pure luck saved her life…

She swung wildly, waving the curved blade back and forth to prevent me from pursuing. That… that was what was bothering me. I didn't even bother to retreat from her desperate, panic fueled attempt to open space between us. Without the full force of her body's rotation behind it, I casually turned aside a reckless swing with both blades. My greater strength and the force of the block shoved her even further back on unstable legs.

I could see the second her will broke alongside her stance.

"N-no. T-this can't be happening!" She stuttered. All of the cold, ruthless confidence was gone. "I can't l-lose! I c-can't lose t-t-to some filthy h-human!"

From the moment I first sensed the pseudo-scent of blood wafting off of Karasuba… no, from that half-remembered dream from the plane, I'd been dwelling on the events of the fifth Holy Grail War. Every turn I faced another phantom of my past… every encounter relating back to that time… I found myself relating these recent events to something 'back in the War.'

But this wasn't the Grail War.

Yomi wasn't a Servant. She wasn't a being of legend – a spirit with the power, skill, experience and wisdom of a demi-god forced into a Class container. Fights between Servants were unlike anything else I'd ever seen because each Servant was a master at their chosen field and weapon.

Yomi was not. She was inexperienced. Her body knew how to react, how to fight with her scythe but… I didn't need to leave exposed holes in my defenses. She couldn't read my stance. She couldn't see through my feints. Her empty scythe wasn't a tactic to beat people like me… she was as blank and empty as her weapon.

I wasn't fighting a warrior of legend. I wasn't even fighting a trained and seasoned killer. The girl I was fighting was just that: a childish little girl.

She was fast, yes, but she couldn't hold a candle to Rider or Saber. She was strong, but nothing compared to the hammer blows capable of battering me around like a leaf in a gale, like Lancer. Hell, I'd faced Magi and Dead Apostles that were more dangerous and cunning – not to mention faster and stronger – than the slip of a girl trying so desperately to kill me.

I exceeded her on every front.

…

What a disappointment.

For a moment, the thought shocked me. Not enough for me to slip or allow the Sekirei a moment to recover. I was disappointed in an opponent? The little epiphany that, since Karasuba and I first crossed paths, my blood had rushed a little faster… I matched her provocations, taunted her more, reacted more sharply.

I wanted to fight her – maybe not her specifically but… I wanted to test myself against the literal Heroes of my youth. To see if I had grown to match the skill and power they had imprinted on my very soul. These creatures… the Sekirei weren't the opportunity I had unknowingly craved.

Yomi kicked off the ground in a desperate bid to open more space between us, despite being off-balance, the jumping ability of these Sekirei was impressive- her powerful legs still managed to push her clear of my next strike and to the far edge of the small clearing.

A sharp note of something I couldn't immediately identify cut through the heavy scent of moss and loam. Being within number 108's territory had blinded me to the ambient, unnatural aura that the other Sekirei exuded until it was actively channeled right in front of me.

The buildup of prana must be the attack she used on Takami. Her Ace. Given that she'd given herself space to launch the attack, I was confident in my initial assessment: it was a mid-to-long range, wide area attack. She was planning to end this fight in one move.

The smart thing to do would be to pull back or get behind cover. Baiting out your opponent's Mysteries, dissecting their effects and countering them was the core philosophy in fights between Magus. It was also a conservative way to fight unknown opponents and I had the tools to do it: I already knew of the attack and its basic profile and Akitsu had already encircled the area in a barrier. It would be easy to call her to block the attack Yomi was charging.

But I didn't need to.

The pseudo-scent peaked, a distortion appearing at the head of her scythe, further confirming my suspicions about the attack originating from her weapon. It also meant that my decision to pursue her flight instead of taking cover or making distance of my own was the correct decision. I charged forward, headlong towards her knowing that since her attack came from her weapon, she would never be able to hit me.

Each of her attacks had been clearly telegraphed.

In the end, it was the vast difference in skill level that was the deciding factor in the survivor of this battle. I had faced enemies vastly more powerful than I was and walked away. Maybe not victorious, and maybe not always unscathed, but alive. I had years of fighting the kinds of things nightmares were made of – as mine certainly were. I knew what I was doing…

And she didn't. It was painfully obvious that she relied on being faster and stronger than her opponents. Relying on those attributes to carry her through battles without ever really learning how to fight.

And now she was going to die because of it.

"N-no! Get away! Get away!" She shrieked and swung her scythe, launching the deathblow – but it was too little, too late. I threw myself forward, ducking the last few meters under the path of the blow even as I swung Kanshou – knocking the scythe (and her attack) higher off course.

The roar of wind filled my ears as a strong, sudden gust of wind burst from the sickle shaped blade and sailed harmlessly overhead. Wind based, I idly noted, ignoring the distinct Crack! of Akitsu conjuring more ice from the air – followed half a second later by a muted chipping sound.

Good girl, I thought as I straightened, snapping upright and using the change in momentum to add force to my next blow.

Clang!

Bakuya struck true, right between her hands as she overextended her swing. Yomi hissed as the impact reverberated down her arms, reflexively and unintentionally letting go of the weapon. Her eyes went white, her pupils constricting to pinpricks in pure, unadulterated fear.

She couldn't fight – her weapon spinning into the air behind me and out of reach. She couldn't run – I kicked her into the tree she'd backed herself up against. This was the end. Her mouth opened–

Shlick!

–but I didn't let her speak. There was a muted, wet thump, like tearing through a wet paper bag as I buried Bakuya to the hilt in her abdomen. A wordless, shuddering gasp escaped her. The white blade stained in crimson where it poked out through her back. She mouthed words without sound, the air driven from her lungs as she slowly looked down at the blade sticking through–

Shlick!

She jerked weakly as I stabbed Kanshou into her other side, the twin swords all but holding her together as they crossed from either side of her naval and lanced up and under her ribcage. It may have been slightly overkill but fighting her had shown me how erroneous my assumptions about Sekirei were. Though not nearly on the same scale of Servants as I'd feared… when I killed this Sekirie, I wanted to make sure she stayed dead.

"Ashikabi-sama…" She somehow managed to pull enough air through her shredded diaphragm to whisper the last word before she trailed off. Her eyes lost focus and clouded. For a moment, I felt pity for the poor creature.

She was nothing but a child, crying out for her master – her partner – to save her with her last breath. Idly, I wondered if her viciousness was a reflection of her true nature, or merely an act of immaturity in a world so much weaker than she was. Did she truly delight in the murder as she claimed or was she, without proper guidance and morals, left pulling the wings off of insects for amusement?

"May you find peace in the next life…" I whispered. Either way, it didn't matter. She killed people. She had to be held accountable and I… I needed to make an example of her. "For you shall receive none from me." I finished, harshly pulling both blades free.

Her lifeblood exploded from the massive wounds, arcing along the backswing of the blades and forming a line on either side of me. The trail of viscera formed a V, where her body still swayed at the vertex. Pale navy light emanated from her back, flickering as she tried to remain upright – her body not quite realizing she was already dead. Then, the light at her back faded, and with it so did she, crumpling to the ground with a muted, wet thump.

I held my breath. One beat. Two. When her body didn't seem to move or start knitting itself back together, I exhaled. So, Sekirei could only take so much damage… that meant that they would die when they were killed. Good. That put them much lower on the ranks of threats I've dealt with. I'd need to work out just what their exact capabilities were in the future. Maybe Akitsu or Karasuba would be able to shed some light on that later…

A jolt shot up my spine as the surrounding pseudo-scent of moss and loam was instantly overpowered by the sudden and familiar copper of blood–

"Shirou Emiya!" My name was screamed. I was turning before I even registered the sound. A black and grey blur descended from the treetops – Crack! – rushing over and past a half-formed and jagged wall of ice that rose like spear tips.

Clang!

The impact drove the air from my lungs as I caught the sword strike on my hastily raised guard. Fuck, she was strong! Even Reinforced, the impact sent painful tremors through both muscle and bone. The blow pressed me almost to one knee before–

Crack!

–with a shower of sparks, Karasuba raked her sword back against my guard, spinning around another jagged wall of ice that erupted between us as soon as her feet hit the ground. I felt more than saw the horizontal slash coming – too slow! I barely had time to raise Kanshou and Bakuya back up as her blow – utilizing the full rotation of her spin – slammed into the flats of the twin Noble Phantasms with the force of a freight train.

Shit! My stance broke. My guard collapsed. It was sheer luck that her blow pinned the wide, flat blades against my body instead of cleaving through me. Metal screamed against metal and sparks flew as she failed to break through the black and white swords. My foot skidded against the ground and caught air while my other touched nothing at all.

"Karasuba?" I wheezed, painfully. I didn't have time to recover, my toes just barely touching the dirt before her next attack was already chambered and launched. Shit! I couldn't do more than cross my swords in front of me in a hasty and desperate guard – once more using the flats of the blades braced against my forearms as a makeshift shield.

Shitshitshit! Steel rang against steel, the sound like a cannon. Already partially airborne, I was helpless to stop her attack from sending me careening up further into the air and launching me across the small glade – away from Akitsu and the others.

Despite my creaking bones, and the pain spiking with each breath...I could work with this.

"Akitsu!" I yelled, locking eyes with the Sekirei rushing to my aid as she sprinted headlong towards Karasuba and I. She wouldn't be fast enough to help, and I (hoped I) wouldn't need it.

Instead, I had a different task for her.

"No one follows!" I ordered her just before I spun in mid-air, barely avoiding crashing into one of the massive tree trunks and kicking off it – not a second too soon as Karasuba's blade cleaved through both the space I just vacated and the entire trunk – and then I lost sight of the clearing and the others entirely.

"Karasuba!" I grunted, sparks flying as I deflected another arcing slash from below – the strength behind it managing to reverse the pull of gravity and keep me aloft, even as she was pushed back towards the ground.

"What." She landed and immediately leapt off the ground – damn she was fast! – diverting off one tree and then another to attack from my blind spot. I twisted, flipping around her, but lacked the leverage and the range to counter when she missed.

"The." In the air, I was completely on the defensive – and even then, barely able to keep up with the pace of her attacks. She practically flew from me to ground to tree and back again – the only indications I could see of where she'd be hitting me from were my own intuition and the almost invisible black-grey blur as she darted about.

"Fuck?!" Blueprint after blueprint were called to mind, and immediately. I could have used a Bullet Trace, or another weapon to break her momentum or pin her down but… I held off. I didn't understand why now, of all times, Karasuba decided to turn her blade on me for real.

Unfortunately, the grey-haired demon wasn't answering. Worse… I wasn't sure how much longer I could afford to hold back. She was on an entirely different level than Yomi. She was faster. Stronger. And though Yomi was a blank slate, Karasuba's sword gave tell of the sordid history of the black-clad swordswoman's battles. I was right in my initial impression of her strength (even if I mistakenly applied it to all other Sekirei): fighting Karasuba was like fighting Rider all over again, and not just due to the nostalgia as she battered me around the forest.

My saving grace so far had been that – although my feet had yet to touch the ground since she first launched me bodily into the air – that she'd focused more on smashing through my guard with her sword than half-a-dozen more effective tactics she could have employed. Between her single-minded focus and what I could see through my limited Mind's Eye–

There!

The moment I was waiting for came – the telltale blur of her descending and the angle of her last jump could only mean one thing. I raised my swords, crossing them over my head to ward off her downward swing and – just as I anticipated! Karasuba descended from on high, nodachi held aloft in a two-handed swing using the added momentum to break my pitiful defenses in a sure-kill strike.

Tortured metal shrieked! If not for the superior quality of the Traced Noble Phantasms, the strike would have shattered lesser blades and killed me outright. Rider my ass! I'd once compared my ashen-haired assailant to a darker version of my Saber and that blow showed that though she wasn't nearly as strong as the King of Knights… she was too close for comfort as her attack left my hands and arms numb from the impact.

…however, her attack did spike me downwards towards the ground, which is what I needed. As soon as my feet touched the dirt, I kicked off and rolled, turning the force of my fall into horizontal momentum – and dodging Karasuba's plunging stab as tried to pin me to the ground. I didn't – couldn't – pause, no sooner did I get my feet back under me once more and I was moving; ducking low as the follow up slash I didn't see coming – one that would have separated my head from my torso – whistled past my head and spinning towards her outside left.

"Karasuba!" I barked, demanding an answer. Her response was two more lightning-fast stabs lancing out so fast they were almost indistinguishable. Both strikes were aimed at holes in my stance – obvious and exploitable weak points that, unlike Yomi, Karasuba was more than skilled enough to identify and exploit.

Unfortunately for her, my entire fighting style was based on a single premise: my opponents would be faster, stronger, and possibly more skilled or experienced at fighting than I was. Each blow rang out against first Bakuya, and then Kanshou, the twin swords already in position to block before Karasuba had finished launching the attacks.

It was a style I had inherited from Archer, the Heroic Spirit Emiya. Much like myself – or because we were the same – his nature as a Hero from the future left him weaker than other Servants. As such, the style of fighting he developed (and that I have adopted and iterated upon) relied on misdirection. By leaving intentional gaps in my defense, I could feint that I had an opening to exploit and bait an opponent's attack to that location, only to block the anticipated strike.

Against opponents too fast to react to normally, the only option was to react to their attack before they launched it. With two swords, I could defend with one and launch a simultaneous counterattack with the other, attacking and defending in the same move before my opponent realized my opening was a ruse.

Clang!

Or that was the theory, anyway, as she neatly deflected my near simultaneous counter to her attacks with her own. Damn! Between the much longer range of her nodachi and her inhuman reaction time, even anticipating her movements wasn't enough to put her at a disadvantage.

I would have to use more than just Kanshou and Bakuya and pure swordsmanship to beat her. Fuck. Fine. I pivoted, ceding ground, and deflecting another volley of attacks that followed my bid to disengage. The whole reason I'd allowed her to separate me from the others – and to order Akitsu to prevent them from pursuing – was so that I could use the greater extent of my magecraft without needing to bother with witnesses.

Still… a part of me hadn't wanted to resort to those options. Not without getting an answer from her for why she was doing this. It didn't make any sense for Karasuba to set me up to kill Yomi, only to try to kill me herself in retaliation…

Nothing about this was making sense to me.

Could this be what she was like when she got serious? Somehow… I doubted it. While not talking in a fight was a tenet that some – including myself – prescribed to… I couldn't see the sadistic crow keeping her mouth shut and not exhorting her superiority when she had the chance. Every bit of our interactions: from our little fights, the casual exchanges of death threats over breakfast… they were too lighthearted.

Our previous fighting was more like an incredibly morbid inside joke the two of us shared.

No... wait. Something about that wasn't right. The way Karasuba was acting, the way she was fighting, had no resemblance to the Karasuba I'd come to know. There was no teasing. Her breathing came in labored gasps. No obnoxiously smug grins. Her teeth were clenched and bared. No gloating, even when she held the obvious edge. Instead, her face was flush with exertion and her eyes were almost black, restlessly darting around.

This Karasuba was alien to me.

I deflected another horizontal slash upwards and away, ducking under the blow in an attempt to close into range for an attack of my own, but Karasuba drew back, half-pivoting to the left as she dragged her much longer blade across in a reverse slash that forced me to abandon that track.

I caught the blow low on Bakuya's blade, but too late to protect myself entirely. The curved tip of her blade drew across my upper arm as she pulled her razor-sharp blade back. The sword failed to cut through the crimson Shroud and the armor underneath, but that only turned the cutting force into blunt force.

Hissing through gritted teeth, I nearly dropped the white blade – my newly bruised muscles protesting the strain – but I didn't have time for such weakness as Karasuba transitioned perfectly into a modified thrust: her legs slightly more than shoulder width apart, knees bent low, and sword held parallel to the ground at shoulder height.

I exhaled harshly – my breath steaming as my overworked circuits burned hot in the effort to push my body past its limits to keep up with the Sekirei – and threw myself backwards, back arching as far back as I could manage without collapsing. Karasuba's nodachi blurred through where my throat was less than a second ago, slicing through the vest across my collar bones.

She twisted the blade, using her off hand to bring it back up in a rising slash, but I managed to shove Bakuya between my body and the blade. Between the torque and the fulcrum provided by the length of her sword, the force of her blow sent me stumbling and – once more, the tip of her blade flashed out and caught me – this time, another small gash opened along the Reinforced Kevlar along my thigh.

Fuck, I had to curse again. The nicks weren't deep enough to fully penetrate the material and draw blood, but they were a clear sign of what I feared: she was too adept at using the extra range her nodachi provided to prevent me from closing to where I could effectively counter her, and her opening blow was taking its toll as I'd yet to fully recover my breath. The result was that every time we crossed blades, my strikes were weaker and turned aside faster. My dodges slower.

I needed to change the paradigm of our fight if I wanted to win.

That option was taken out of my hands as Karasuba pressed her advantage in my hesitation, turning her next thrust into a shoulder check when I diverted the blade. I kicked out – aiming for her knee but landing on her thigh – halting her charge and countering with my other sword now that she was within striking distance.

Instead of retreating and using her greater reach like she had been, however, she twisted the angle of her sword against my block, managing to catch my attack on her cross guard.

Oh.

Ah, fuck. Before she moved, I foresaw what she was going to do – so I was unsurprised when she pulled her offhand from around the hilt of her sword and pressed it against the back of her blade, pushing forward.

It was a bastardized version of 'half-handing', a tactic not normally used with katana or nodachi and usually seen with European broadswords and two-handers. I was forced to use one sword braced at either end of hers to keep that razor edge from being shoved into my face – but if I removed either sword, she could use the remaining one as a fulcrum to attack with either end of her weapon. If I removed both, then the placement of her hand would allow her to turn the lock into an immediate stab and shorter range than either of my swords could get into position to stop.

If I didn't break the lock, however… Karasuba pivoted and I was forced to match her, Bakuya skidding down her blade until the twin Noble Phantasms met at the hilts – and then she twisted, dipping her sword low, and flipping sharply up: a classic disarming technique. I either lost my swords or lost my wrists; the choice was mine.

"Karasuba!" I barked, trying to snap her out of whatever had possessed her, watching as the black and white swords were torn from my grip and sent spinning into the air behind her. She didn't answer. Didn't give pause to show she even registered my words. There wasn't even the triumphant light of victory in her eyes.

Enough.

Before she could bring here weapon back to bear, I used our proximity to sharply elbow the arm still holding the hilt of her weapon – her arm didn't break, nor (unfortunately) did she let go of her sword, but she did hiss in pain.

It was the first sound she made since calling my name.

"Trace." From here, I could have recalled my swords – or rather Traced a second copy to replace them. Instead, I stepped into her, sliding my foot from her thigh to between her legs and hooking my arm around hers. In this position, her superior range was useless, and I pivoted – dragging her over my hip in an almost perfect callback to the night I brought Akitsu home. "On!"

"Ah!" She hit the dirt hard, the involuntary gasp drawn from her as the air forced its way out of her lungs. But she didn't let go of her sword and she was instantly rolling back onto her feet, the tip of her blade dragging against the ground as she lashed out in a wide, one-handed horizontal slash.

Her blade rang off the haft of my new weapon; instead of the black and white longswords, a long crimson spear neatly absorbed the force of her attack and turned it aside. Her eyes widened in surprise, but I didn't let myself get distracted. She wasn't responding. Wasn't playing, as many of her attacks would have been lethal blows had they landed.

So now… neither was I.

In my entire arsenal, there were few weapons in my arsenal more serious in a duel than Gae Bolg, the spear of mortal pain. I batted away her next strike with the tip of the spear, keeping her body in line with the cursed blade and lashed out. The crimson point was a blur as it lanced forward – nothing more probing stab this time, but she was forced to cede ground for the first time lest the spear lodge itself in her throat. A minor shift in footing and her next attack sailed harmlessly between us even as I stabbed down at her exposed (unarmored!) thigh.

Now that I outranged her, she couldn't attack with impunity.

Gae Bolg spun in my hands, lancing out to drive Karasuba further onto the defensive, as she tried to block, only to have to hop to avoid the haft as it swung around to trip her – a feint for the blade to sail across her face. Only the timely reflexive jerk backwards saved her from the cursed blade permanently taking her eye and part of her nose.

Though I might have aspired to be as strong and skilled as Saber and the other Heroic Spirits, and despite training with Saber once upon a time, the truth was that I was not a paragon of swordsmanship. Though I favored Kanshou and Bakuya as my primary weapons when fighting, it was mostly because of my familiarity with the weapons, and the synergy of how the philosophy behind their creation aligned strongly with my views on my own magecraft.

But within my Reality Marble – Unlimited Blade Works, the crystallization of my soul and magecraft – lay resting every weapon I had ever seen. Not just the mundane weapons, but every weapon based mystic code and Noble Phantasm as well. There were swords, spears, bows, chain sickles… weapons of every various and sundry form, configuration, or power imaginable. If I limited myself to mastering only the various longswords in my Reality Marble, despite only making up a slim fraction of the tools available to me, it would still take more than a lifetime to achieve.

So I didn't. I just became good enough with a wide enough selection of weapons to be able to pick the best choice for the fight at hand. After all, Shirou Emiya was not someone who wielded weapons, but someone who created them.

As Karasuba disengaged, eyeing the spear in my hand as if she could sense the danger the cursed weapon radiated, I sunk into a deep stance. My left leg extended far in front as I settled my weight on my back leg. The tip of the spear pointed at Karasuba, then sweeping down low to the ground by my right foot as I coiled, half raised to shoulder height in preparation for a lunge.

I'd seen the wielder of Gae Bolg – the Lancer of my War – the legendary Irish Hero CuChulain, known as the Hound of Ireland, take this stance twice.

In the legends, the spear of CuChulain was renowned for always piercing the heart of those he threw it at and for causing wounds that would never heal. The Gae Bolg I held in my hands was no mere ordinary spear, but the crystallization of that myth given form. Not only were wounds inflicted by the crimson spear imbued with a curse that resisted or prevented healing, but it also had one more horrifyingly lethal property.

Where the original spear in the tales might have held a property similar to 'the spear is swung, so the heart must be pierced' in reference to its ability to always strike at the heart of CuChulain's foes, as a Noble Phantasm, Gae Bolg could reverse the causality of those events. In effect, 'the heart is pierced, so the spear must be swung'. Once upon a time… I'd had the experience of witnessing Lancer take this stance as the first part of activating this aspect of his Noble Phantasm…

…moments before the cursed spear had pierced my heart, almost killing me on the very first night of the Holy Grail War. Now… Now I was going to pierce Karasuba's with it.

My body is made of swords.

The first line of my personal aria echoed in my head, the mnemonic activating my circuits and pouring prana into the spear.

Iron is my blood and glass is my heart.

With the second line, the crimson spear awakened, drinking deep of the opened channel and flooding the air with its desire – no, its need, its purpose – to kill. Karasuba's eyes widened, her eyes shrinking to pinpricks as even she felt the change in the air, the sudden oppressive bloodlust that exploded between us. She jerked, as if the sudden and inescapable awareness of her own mortality snapped her awake.

Having faced the wrong end of this spear myself, I was intimately familiar with the experience.

She reacted faster than I thought she would, charging forward, throwing her sword in a desperate gambit to stop my lunge or alter the path of my strike. It was too little too late. With a casual swipe, I batted her sword aside.

It didn't matter if the head of the spear was out of position, as Gae Bolg greedily devoured my prana, the spear would rewrite causality. All I had to do was invoke the name of the Noble Phantasm and it didn't matter where I swung: so long as Karasuba was in range, her heart would be pierced.

"Gae–" My incantation was abruptly interrupted by a tongue shoving its way down my throat. For a split-second… the sheer incredulity of the action made me realize that it was a surprisingly effective method for stopping an aria mid-cast.

Then the present, and Karasuba's momentum, caught up to me as she finished bodily slamming into me. The involuntary lip-lock broke as we tumbled, the red spear somehow flung from my grip, and we crashed to the ground in an ungainly tangle of limbs.

Elbows, fists and knees were exchanged as we rolled across the ground, struggling for dominance. I had height and reach on her, and my body was Reinforced through runes and magecraft to be stronger and tougher than any normal human could ever hope to achieve.

But Karasuba was not human. Though shorter, her Sekirei given flexibility and strength were more than enough. She may not have been Saber strong, but she didn't need to be. Once she got one of her long, inhumanly strong legs braced around me, it was over.

The world spun as she flipped me over. Even blunted by my armor and the Holy Shroud, my back still slammed painfully against the ground. An involuntary gasp escaped my lips, only to be devoured by the ashen-haired demoness as she straddled me, pinning me down with her superior strength and leverage.

She had my left hand pinned to the ground above my head, her other hand cupped around the base of my neck at the shoulder, holding me down with her bodyweight. My right hand was free, however, holding my last resort in a white-knuckled grip. The hilt of the Traced Black Key pressed against her side under the ribcage.

I might have been disarmed, but I was never unarmed. A burst of prana would send a holy blade – crafted from scripture and powered by faith to destroy that which was not human – lancing into her heart. She made a mistake in not killing me when she had the chance.

A lethal mistake.

A burst of prana was all it would take to kill her and win.

Just a thought…. Except…

Except she wasn't fighting me anymore. The hand at my neck could have snapped my spine or collapsed my trachea, but instead it trailed upwards to cup my cheek – nails lightly dragging across my skin. Her (soft!) lips pressed to mine as she pillaged my mouth in a kiss as brutal and relentless as our former wrestling along the ground.

Her body was warm and… soft… against mine as she pressed me fully into the dirt.

"Gah!" I gasped as the sharp spike of pain signaled her release of my lip from between her teeth, breaking the intensely (disturbingly) odd moment. Darkness erupted from between her shoulders, a fountain of inky-black light reaching up into the boughs of the trees and splitting to form two great black-feathered wings. They flapped once, sending a cascade of black-light feathers dancing through the air in the resulting gust and falling to the ground like falling leaves. The skeletal remains of her wings flapped again and stretched, fully extending without skin or muscle or feathers, into the treetops.

She shifted on top of me as her skeletal wings forked into the sky, dragging her hand down from where she'd pinned my wrist to join its twin stroking my face before they both slowly dropped to my chest to support her as she sat up.

Half-lidded grey eyes the color of steel gazed down at my own wide and surprised brown ones. Her lips tilted upwards at the corner, her bottom lip still slick and red with my blood. A crimson droplet started to trail down to her chin before her tongue flicked out and caught it.

I hesitated.

Kill her. My hand shook. My instincts screamed. She was dangerous. Unpredictable. A killer, drenched in the blood of a thousand people. Her very existence was a threat to humanity. Didn't I have a duty – no, an obligation – to end her here? Now?

So are you. Archer's voice echoed in my mind.

The holy charm ready to spear into her heart burned in my trembling hand at the accusation. I just… I didn't know what to do. It felt like my mind had dissolved. The resolve I had summoned with Gae Bolg to kill her felt empty. Karasuba…

Karasuba just bound herself to me. Why? Hadn't she just been trying to kill me? I didn't understand what she was thinking, making me her Master. Ashikabi. Whatever. I felt like my grasp – my understanding and control – of the situation slipping dangerously. With one action, one single kiss, Karasuba killed my plans.

I was now an official Ashikabi of the Sekirei Plan. Any second now, Minaka Hiroto would be hacking my number and calling to congratulate me for being forced into his death game. If Karasuba was dead when he called… was being a Sekirei-less Ashikabi like being a Servant-less Master? A threat and a challenge, able to pick up another Sekirei but weakened and hunted by other Ashikabi? I would still have Akitsu, so I wouldn't really be without a Sekirei of my own when the sharks started to circle…

…Akitsu, who I ordered to stay behind. Akitsu who might be fighting up to four other Sekirei on her own. Akitsu who… I was beginning to trust – to see as a real asset and possible partner (much better than the crow on top of me) – yet may have just ordered to die in our first engagement, trading her for the ability to use magecraft unfettered in my fight with Karasuba. If I killed Karasuba and Akitsu was… then I'd have one hundred and five (four if I didn't count Minato and Musubi) enemies in the city to fight alone, without the anonymity I had before Karasuba kissed me.

… and that was if MBI didn't hunt me down for killing their enforcer. Karasuba might not be as strong as a Servant, but her raw abilities were almost pushing into those levels. There was no way I'd get away with killing her without reprisal from the company owning the city.

Unless you killed them too, hypocrite. I ignored Archer's words. 108 and what? A single company? It's not like you'd have to kill an entire city… again.

No. Killing Karasuba was suicidal… so I shouldn't. But could I trust Karasuba? That was a stupid question. Could I use Karasuba, or would our partnership be as doomed as Rin and Archer's? I didn't even have the Command Seals – that I knew of – to compel the bloody alien to listen to me like I could if she was a Servant. Kill her or don't?

You're such a pussy. I clenched my teeth, grimacing as Rebecca's scoffed words. Stop thinking and act. Hesitation is cowardice.

"You're mine now, Shirou Emiya." Karasuba half-purred, half-growled, taking my hesitation as an answer of its own. Her words chased away the long dead specters haunting me. The feathers blanketing the forest began to lighten and fade, disappearing into motes of black and then nothingness as her wings retracted. "Forever and ever, until the world burns to nothing but ashes."

My eyes widened and I almost reflectively pulled the trigger in my mind – a trigger that would have activated the Black Key and sealed my fate.

And hers.

I couldn't trust her. Didn't know her goals. Her thoughts. Not even her. Not really. Was it enough to risk myself – no, risk Takami and Minato and Yukari and Rin and Taigai – on the gamble that Karasuba could be understood and reasoned with?

Or did I kill her right now. Follow my adoptive father's path, become Archer and kill her. Then the other Sekirei. Any Ashikabi who tried to stop me. Everyone who worked for MBI. Everyone they had ties to. The rest of my (most likely exceedingly short) life would devolve into killing and killing and killing and killing.

"I was right…" Karasuba's solemn words broke my train of thought as she smiled sadly down at me. Her face had cleared most of the feverish flush and her eyes were no longer dilated and unfocused. Control and composure washed over her features and her eyes were clear and strong as she gazed into mine. "You have such interesting eyes when you're thinking about killing…"

What?

She knew? Of course she knew. I was the stupid one – she'd have to be daft not to realize the blade I had digging into her side. But even if it hadn't drawn blood, why didn't she struggle? She'd…. she'd done the opposite. She hadn't moved since she let go of me, content to sit straddling my hips as if I wasn't holding her life in my hands. Or… maybe she'd resigned her fate to my decision? That… that didn't sound like the Karasuba I knew…

Unless… she had tested me. Manipulated me. And now contracted with me. Was this her way of (quite unilaterally) declaring her interest in partnership with me and awaiting my answer? Accept and she lives. Refuse and she dies.

"Ah… shit." I explosively sighed, letting the Black Key drop from numb fingers. Despite how much I maybe should… I couldn't do it. It was a gamble, but… if she was willing to put her life in my hands – to bind her fate to mine – after what she just put me through…Karasuba was either confident that I would accept or there was more to her than I thought…. Or, probably more accurately, there wasn't as little to her as I might have feared.

"I accept your contract, Karasuba. I will be your Ashikabi." There it was. Hardly as impressive as Saber under the moonlight, asking if I was her Master, but the decision was made.

"So, what happens now?" I couldn't help but ask. The grin she flashed me in response was all teeth as she reveled in her complete and utter victory. She'd gambled (much like I was now) with long odds… but she'd won big this time and I was only slightly resentful of her coming out on top. Ah… no, that wasn't a comment on our current position either.

"Now, we go back to MBI so I can report in. The extraction teams for Yomi's body should be enroute." She hummed. "By the time they get here, they might even come to collect the Trash and give us a ride back."

Retrieve the body? Smart. It also meant that I might have been having to flee from helicopters on foot had I decided to kill her after all. Lucky me.

"If that's the case, we need to recall Akitsu." If she were still alive, that was. Guilt flashed (surprisingly) painfully in my chest, but I smothered it with cold rationalization. Yes, I ordered her to prevent anyone from following and it would be… tragic, if my first real orders got her killed, but she was left with Minato and Musubi. I didn't really expect her to have to fight at all.

Plus… what idiot was dumb enough to willingly throw themselves into a fight with a rampaging Karasuba? Stupid question. Who else was stupid enough? Besides… there were three other Sekirei belonging to the Ashikabi with Minato. I wouldn't put it past them to try and take out Akitsu and Musubi while they had the numbers.

"Hmmm," Karasuba pretended to think about that before giving me a smile I could only describe as sultry. "Why don't we take just another minute? I'm sure she's fine on her own." Her eyes crinkled in amusement, no doubt imaging Akitsu being not fine on her own. "Besides, shouldn't I get a reward for my victory?"

"Your reward is you getting to live to enjoy said victory." I deadpanned and bucked my hips in an ineffective attempt to dislodge her. "Now get off. I need you to go get her."

Karasuba rose with a snort that sounded distinctly like 'spoilsport' as I called her bluff, heading over to retrieve her sword where it lay entangled with Gae Bolg. Looking around, Kanchou and Bakuya were… ah. One had been embedded in a tree and the property that drew the swords together had its twin resting at the foot of said tree.

"Saha… Emiya-kun." Karasuba's faltering start was punctuated by the snap of her blade returning to its sheath. Emiya-kun? Was that… Karasuba got my name right. Was she sick? "Why do I have to go get the Scrap. You're the one who wants her around, though I've no idea why…"

Her suspicious glance told me that she did in fact have reasons in mind. Reasons that were probably quite incorrect.

"Think of it as punishment." I winced as I pulled the twin Noble Phantasms from the tree. Normally, I would have just let them disperse into motes of prana instead of collecting them, but I'd been careful to hide my magecraft from Karasuba so far. She'd been eating dirt when I Traced Gae Bolg and I didn't trust her nearly enough to let her in on my secrets. "Besides, I'm pretty sure you bruised my ribs."

"Aww, poor human." She smirked, eyes glittering with amusement as she taunted me. "Do you need–"

"Go get her." I cut her off. "And don't dally! If she isn't safely with you when I catch up then…" well, I wasn't exactly sure what I'd do. "Never mind, just go!"

"Yeah, yeah." Karasuba rolled her eyes and jumped into the trees, disappearing along the way we came. It wasn't that hard a trail to follow, I mused, as she just had to look for the gouged and fallen trees. As she disappeared and the scent of blood became eclipsed by moss and loam, I let out a sigh.

"Fuck… am I making the right choice? Saber…" Like always, the voice I wanted to hear most was silent.

*Akitsu*

I should have driven her off the moment I first laid eyes on her. Should have impressed further upon Shirou-sama just how dangerous Karasuba was. I should have killed her when I had the chance, when I had her isolated and trapped within my power – it was only Shirou-sama's order not to fight her, not to harm her, that had stayed my hand.

Now, the world slowed as the Black Dog of MBI bared her fangs and bit at my chosen Ashikabi–

Crack!

–A jagged wall of ice lanced up to halt her sudden yet inevitable betrayal. It wasn't enough as she corkscrewed mid-dive, rotating just enough that the spears of ice caught and tore at her cape instead of through her body.

Clang!

Shirou-sama managed to get his swords up in time, if barely – my failure to stop the attack slowing her just enough for him to block. That the blow that should have killed him – would have killed most Sekirei – but somehow didn't was of no solace. Not when she was already attacking again. Dread hastened my flight as I leapt to Shirou-sama's defense, a line of hoarfrost advancing ahead and–

Crack!

–was too slow. Karasuba easily, contemptuously, danced around another spire like it was nothing and metal shrieked as she battered at Shirou-sama.

"Akitsu!" Shirou-sama shouted for me; pain was clear in his voice as he was launched across the clearing. Launched away from me because it was too far and too slow to protect him. I'd already failed twice in as many heartbeats and – as that vile woman, Sekirei Number 04, gave chase – possibly a third.

No! I rejected that, my power coiling around me. The air became cool – comfortable – as frost pooled at my feet in preparation to launch myself even faster – to put myself between Karasuba and Shirou-sama. By the very ice of my pledge, I would entrap her, bind her in a tomb of ice and freeze the very blood in her veins for even daring to touch him.

Even if it took my life to do so.

"No one follows!" My heart – and my footsteps – shuttered to a momentary halt at the order. Though my heart restarted, my legs did not, muscles turned as rigid and unmoving as my power. And then he was gone, flung out of sight with another screech of metal on metal, the black-clad butcher of Sekirei in hot pursuit.

No one follows…? But I… I needed to follow. It was a Sekire's place to stand between their Ashikabi and all harm; to crush any who sought to bring them sorrow or anger or pain. Was I… was I so useless that he planned to fight without me? Again?

Pain! I clutched my head as it seared in agony, a red-hot spike driving through the center of my forehead.

Save him! My body rebelled against my thoughts. It always rebelled… my stupid, cursed, useless body didn't move! Karasbua wasn't like that other Sekirei. Even if Shirou-sama was strong, it didn't matter how strong he was. She would kill him… kill him and then I…

Then I…

So why did I not move?!

I just stood there like a failure.

The word burned in my chest and at my forehead. Shirou-sama was going to die because I couldn't keep my promise. Couldn't serve my purpose. How could I have dreamed to have an Ashikabi when I was clearly a failure of a Sekirei.

When I was a Scrapped Number.

When I was Broken.

Crack!

I didn't think as my power swelled. It was pure reaction that sent ice spearing up around me, warding off and halting the figure that tried to run past me.

"What the hell are you doing?" The male Sekirei yelled. An explosion – no, a burst of fire! – melted the tips of the spears a split second before they would have impaled him. He kicked off the partially melted barrier, reversing his momentum and landing back in the clearing. What… was I doing? "Shirou is your Ashikabi, right? Why aren't you going after him? Don't you understand he's going to die unless we go save him!"

I flinched as if struck.

"I…" I struggled to speak. Did I know that? Of course I did! My heart seized and my head burned, twin agonies pleading for me to move. And yet I didn't. My thoughts… my feelings… were sheering me in two. One half yearning to go – to shatter his enemies, his troubles, his misfortunes!

Pain spiked unbearably in time with the thought. Worse than any test. Worse than the needles that gouged into my flesh. Worse than the knives in my bones. Worse than even the hot room. My stomach turned in sickness. My heart ached, pulling painfully in my chest. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I couldn't–

"Ignore her, Homura!" Another Sekirei. Another enemy? Lightning danced across her skin as she flew through the air, threatening to fly around me far to the left. "There's obviously something broken in her."

"We need to catch that guy before it's too late." Another, almost identical Sekirei flew to the right.

These three Sekirei… were they… also after Shirou-sama?

My eyes snapped open wide, darting between them and I brought up my arms – unsure of when I'd wrapped them around myself. Hoarfrost broke across the ground in jagged lines, spires of ice lancing upwards to catch the two Sekirei.

"Hibiki!"

"Watch out!"

Twin gouts of fire impacted the attacks, dissolving both into rapidly dispersing clouds of steam. Even if my attacks were thwarted, the plumes of superheated steam drove the identical Sekirei away. They landed next to the male.

"The fuck is your deal?" One of the female Sekirei shouted.

"Hikari." The other muttered. "Look at her forehead."

"A Scrapped Number?" The male directed their gazes to my forehead. Heat poured unpleasantly from his skin. Steam wafting from the back of his hands and off his shoulders. "Do you even understand what's going on?" He continued speaking at me.

Black clothes. Grey hair. My lips curled in distaste.

"Or are you incapable of caring if Shirou dies?"

My breath hitched and I rose, unsure of when I'd curled against the ground. Did I understand what was going to happen? Of course I did. I was Broken… not stupid. Did I care? It was impossible for me not to. I cared so much it was tearing me apart. The male Sekirei was right…

I was violating my duty as a Sekirei, my promise to myself to protect Shirou-sama…

But it was also a Sekirei's role to fulfill the desires of their Ashikabi. Shirou-sama was mine, even if I wasn't his Sekirei – no, especially because I couldn't be his Sekirei – I had only one choice.

No one follows, Shirou-sama ordered. My feet slid across the grass, stopping shoulder width apart. My spine straightened, shoulders back and chest forward. Just as I was taught. I raised my hands, the air crystalizing at my fingers. The sudden drop in air pressure caused the wind to circle and moan.

With a thought and the twitch of my wrist, the half-melted wall shattered, reforming as a line of frozen javelins. Flames sprung from the grey-haired Sekirei's hands, crashing into the wave of javelins as I launched them forward, both attacks colliding and dispersing in a cloud of steam–

Crack!

A half-formed shield – more of a half-dome of ice – rose at my feet just in time to catch a bolt of lightning before it would have lanced through me. The bolt crackled against the barrier, the weakest sections crumbling and fragmenting off in a spray of water and ice. Trailing arcs of lightning singed the hem of my sleeves where they poked through the blown off bits.

Superficial damage. I ignored–

I waved my hand, spires of ice erupting along a line at the edge of the clearing, just in time to cut off the black-clad Sekirei – he was after Shirou!

"Homura, go!" Lightning crackled, lancing through the air with the unpleasant odor of ionized and flash-heated air in its wake, preventing me from fully focusing on him. The identical Sekirei split, one circling left and the other right, trying to hem me in. Their attacks were fast and accurate, targeting the weakened sections of my constantly reforming barriers blown apart by the strike before it.

But they were more annoying than dangerous. The lingering heat in the air caused by their attacks were more detrimental than their actual attacks as they continued to ineffectually break through my defenses.

"We'll hold her off while you make a break for it!" The other annoyance called out. She was… not inaccurate. Even as I detonated both my perforated shield and the row of spikes I'd sent off, filling the air with icy shrapnel, I was on the verge of losing ground.

Every bolt I'd caught on a shield or pillar of ice tore my eyes from the real threat. A wave of flame consumed the shrapnel and blanketed the shrinking clearing in sweltering heat. My vision swam, the burning, drilling pain in my skull flaring in time with the flames. The brief distraction was all it took for the black-clad Sekirei to try and break for it again – single-mindedly trying to pursue Shirou-sama – twin bolts of lightning cascading across a conjured wall of ice as I interposed myself between the persistent – vexing – male Sekirei and Shirou-sama.

Spears of ice met waves of fire, the two dousing and countering one another in a plume of superheated air and steam. The explosion – and his ferocity – pushed me back as trails of fire whipped frantically through the air as he tried to press his advantage.

"Ah!" Lightning pierced the steam, the resulting explosion sending me rolling across the forest floor. My back slammed painfully against solid wood – the surprise locking my muscles in place and paralyzing my thoughts. I was… at the very edge of the clearing. Mud and dirt stained the white robe Shirou-sama gifted me. The hems at the wide, soft sleaves had small holes eaten away by tiny cinders from the lightning. A long tear trailed up towards my thigh.

Shadows bubbled in the steam, the air bulging with the passage of bodies. Behind me were the woods, marked and torn with the passing of Shirou-sama and Karasuba. There was no blood. This… this was an opportunity…. I could chase after him in the thickness of the undergrowth. I could catch up, ensure his survival and then the two of us could defeat – or not! – the three Sekirei chasing after him. I winced, eyes screwing shut as a scalpel buried its way between my eyes, taking a half-step back, a small, half-pivot that–

A hand reached down to me.

–I took a deep breath, my exhale misting in the scalding forest air, and turned back to face the three Sekirei.

"No one follows…" My voice was raw as I echoed my orders… and I obeyed.

The agonizing brand stamped onto my forehead didn't stop burning, but the pain no longer mattered. Instead, I felt the phantom sensation of a weight settling over my shoulders, and with it a strange warmth - heavy and warm, but unusually comfortable, like Shirou-sama's coat – rose in my chest.

I'll take care of you.

I felt his presence and raised my hands, gripping the scalding hot steam with my powers and twisted. The beads of water in the steam stopped and solidified as I tried to crush the enemy Sekirei. The grey-haired Sekirei was wrong. He was the one preventing me from rescuing Shirou-sama. If I defeated them… then there was no one left to pursue my Ashikabi but me.

The frozen cloud exploded, wisps of flame and lighting circling the air. As expected…

Three shadows dropped out of the light and smoke – just as a wave of my hand sent a brisling spire of ice rising to meet them. I frowned as another gout of flame and crackle of lightning melted the lethal tips of the spears – enough that they were able to avoid being skewered – even they were forced to retreat again.

"Damn…" The quieter woman panted, "She's tough. What is she made of?"

"She's a Scrapped Number." The flame wielder interrupted. He was the most dangerous of the three by far. Fast… though I'd managed to keep up with him, despite the annoying lightning wielders' interference. Strong too… he was at least as strong as I was. No… that wasn't true. He was weaker, if only just – he was just the worst possible opponent for me. "Who knows what MBI did to her to make her like this."

"Fuck." The loud woman cursed. "We don't have time for this bullshit." She was right. Every minute I wasted with them was one that Shirou-sama fought Karasuba alone. "Seo! Get your ass over here!"

"Homura," The soft-spoken one grasped the hand of the other girl, sparks and arc trails dancing up and down their joined hands. A large, scruffy looking man ran over from next to Minato-san and Musubi were watching. "We'll use our Norito to break through. Once we do, you go stop Karasuba."

A surge of anger and jealousy rose up as the human embraced the twin girls, quieting the constant agony I felt with a different type of ache. A Norito was the ultimate expression of a Sekirei's power: an attack that symbolized the bond they shared with their Ashikabi. An attack that only a fully realized Sekirie – a winged Sekirei – with the blessings and love of their Ashikabi, bestowed in the form of a kiss, could perform.

It was a joy I would never know.

The irrational desire to crush them all now was quashed, but not quickly… and not completely. It was against the rules – and more importantly, Shirou's wishes – to attack an Ashikabi. But… when it came to Shirou-sama's safety… it didn't matter; the fire user was between me and the Ashikabi embracing his Sekirei and didn't waver for a second as he watched over them.

The girls' activation crests alit with jagged yellow wings shining from their backs, taking the form of artistically curved, flickering bolts of lightning. Bitterness filled my heart at the sign that their Norito was ready.

A Norito could only be opposed by another Norito. Something that – since I was Broken and incapable of bearing the mark of an Ashikabi – I would never be capable of using my own.

…yet another way I was useless to Shirou-sama.

The twin Sekirei parted from their Ashikabi, lightning arcing from their joined hands to trail through the sky and dig furrows in the earth at their feet. "We are the pledged thunderclap," they intoned as one, starting the activation words to their Norito.

I couldn't match them… not as I was…

Not Broken…

I don't understand what you mean by being broken. Shirou's words echoed in my ear… I could feel the heat of his hand, burning against mine just like the night he grasped it for the first time. I don't know what it means that you're a Scrap Number, but I don't care.

Stupid girl… was Karasuba, of all people, right? Was I so Broken that I could not do anything? That I could forget the moment where I knew that Shiriou-sama was my Ashikabi? Even if that future… if that ability to realize it had been taken from me… I knew that I had found him.

I would not let him slip through my fingers again. My feet dug into the upturned earth at my feet as my power surged.

Will you obey my orders without question?

Yes.

The ground cracked and froze at my feet. Diamond dust sparkled in the air.

"No disaster will befall our Ashikabi."

The smell of ionized air increased. Jolts of electricity sparked across the ground where they stood, and heat-lightning struck through the tree canopy.

Even if they don't make sense?

Yes.

Nothing in my life made sense. Nothing but that I would do anything for Shirou-sama. That was the life of a Sekirei – our purpose was to live, fight and possibly die for our Destined one. How could I question his decision when they led to him accepting a broken bird like me?

Even if it costs you your life?

Yes. Even if it cost me my life, I would crush all misfortunes before him.

A coarse breeze kicked through the clearing, roiling between the hot ionized air from the girls charging their Norito and my own preparations. The unpleasantly hot, sticky sweat that had formed against my skin was wicked away, chilling instantly. The deep, crackling sound of ice as first spires – then uneven shelves of ice – erupted from the ground in undulating, thickening waves. A layer of frost climbed up my feet, ice sprouting up against my bare legs under the cotton shift, the comforting coolness rooting me in place. My power was the only thing holding me upright as my vision blacked out – my body trembling and mind screaming – as the pressure bearing down on me, within me reached a crescendo.

"God's Song!" Their incantation ended with the sudden cry – the name of their Norito. The world became light, even though my tightly closed eyes. By the time the crackling roar of the guided both issued forth, deafening the world, the attack had already crashed against my barriers. Ice cracked, melted, shattered and regrew as the lightning bolt drilled through wall after wall I conjured to stop it.

Sweat poured down my face. Muscles trembled on the verge of collapse as I forced more and more ice into existence. My core burned, taxing my power to the limit as that pressure threatened to crush me out of existence.

I…will…not…move.

I was incapable of words…

Of thoughts…

Only one, snipped of a feeling flooded what was left of my mind.

I will not falter.

Flash-heated water exploded, steam expanding in every direction as my walls melted and burst from the inside. The massive bolt pierced further, each crack a path of least resistance for it to surge through. Blinded, deafened and sweltering, all I could do was hold.

Steam cooled, condensed, hardened, warmed, shattered and exploded. Again.

And again.

And then it was over.

The pressure building inside me was gone. The lightning burned itself out. The only sign of the Norito was a cylindrical hole piercing almost all the way through my barricade – a half-melted tunnel a meter wide torn through the hemisphere of ice, halting barely a handbreadth from where I still stood.

And I still stood.

I let out a shaking breath as chips and fragments of the wall littered the steaming forest floor. I stopped it. I stopped their Norito. With a Crack! I let the shield collapse, the ice sublimating back into the air. The instant change in air pressure sent a pulse of wind that dispersed the thick screen of steam hanging in the air.

"Holy shit." The twin in the darker uniform uttered in disbelief. "No fucking way…"

"She blocked it?" The one in lighter clothes slumped to her knees in exhaustion, launching the Norito taking all that they had to give. "She blocked it all on her own."

Alone? No. I was not alone. I held Shirou-sama's faith with me. Even when my own had waned… this was proof that my decision to follow Shirou-sama was correct. Three Sekirei on one? There was only one outcome. One possibility.

And that was my victory.

The fight left my opponents. The girls were shaken, pale in the aftermath of their failed attack. The male looked pained – even despite the mask hiding his features – his eyes wild and desperate as mine must have been only moments ago.

But now… now the pain is gone. Shattered by the strength of my resolve – to follow and obey. No one would stand against Shirou-sama so long as I was there to shield him. I wouldn't allow it. I took a deep breath, exulting in how clear my head felt, and drew upon all the gravity I could manage. Resolute purpose gave steel to my spine as I straightened, letting the ice propping me up fade to nothing.

I didn't need to be propped up. Right here, right now… I felt like I could fly as I uttered four simple words that crystalized this feeling – this epiphany.

"You shall not proceed."

The words hung in the sudden silence, as cold and inexorable as ice.

Footsteps whispered in the grass behind me, approaching with calm, even steps. My heart soared and I couldn't help but preen. Shirou was victorious as I was my faith was as rewarded as his faith in me–

"Hey, Trash."

No.

Nonono.

My wings… relief… hope crumbled to despair at the familiar, feminine voice that drawled behind me. No…it… it wasn't fair. It wasn't right! I had done it. I won. I proved myself to my Ashikabi!

Stiffly, I turned to confirm my worst fear. Karasuba stood nonchalantly, as if she hadn't just broken the last beautiful – good – thing left in the world. Her mouth moved without sound. The hand not on her sword gesticulated in her careless, mindless manner.

My whole body burned. Not in pain. This…

"Yo, Scrap-head?" Karasuba peered at me. "Are you listening?"

This was anger.

"Die."

*Minato*

I almost dropped Ku-chan as the world seemed to tilt. My vision warped and bent, like looking through a fisheye lens.

The nice lady… Shirou's friend… did she just… did she kill Shirou?

Somehow, even as the world blurred and became indistinct, I could see Akitsu's face in hyper focus – the normally calm (almost emotionless) façade bleeding into an animalistic snarl.

"Die."

The earth shook, Spikes of ice like school-busses cracked through the ground. Roots burst through the topsoil – shattered and pierced - sending trees as tall as skyscrapers toppling to the ground. This time, as the world tilted for real, all I could do was cover Kusano's smaller body with my own as the clearing was opened to the sky.

The rumbling, cracking cacophony grew distant and the earth stopped shaking.

"Wow…" Musubi sounded awed as she helped me off the ground (though I could have done without her doing so by hauling me up by the scruff of my shirt). "Akitsu-san is so strong! She didn't even have Shirou-san with her for a Norito either! I wonder how strong she is…"

The roiling avalanche tearing away from us – a literal wall of ice and snow trying to bury the grey-haired woman who attacked Shirou – might have been a clue.

"Minato-san, when they get back, can I fight her and Karasuba-sama?"

Wh-what…? Why…

"Tight…" Kusano squirmed, fidgeting. Mechanically, I shifted her into a better position, to carry her. Thankfully, she had kept her head buried in my shoulder during the fighting. She didn't see Shirou disembowel the girl – Yomi – who was bullying her.

Nor did she see Shirou attacked…

…killed…?

I… I couldn't look away from where the black-clad girl lay once I thought of her. My eyes were glued to her, despite how everyone else seemingly ignored her. Two great streaks of blood painted the ground, arcing from her prone form, the grass and dirt under her slowly turning a rusty red-brown color. I choked down bile as what was left of her oozed out of her bisected halves.

She was mean. Cruel. Malicious and sadistic but… she didn't deserve to die, did she? Shirou didn't have to… so brutally dismantle and kill her right? She was just… just a girl…

Did the nice lady, Karasuba, do the same thing to Shirou? Was he dead? Again? First a grave with no body and now a body with no grave. Another victim in a senseless, meaningless cycle of violence? I was too numb, too shocked to even begin to unpack those feelings…

"Dammit!" Homura, the black clad (male?!) Sekirei burst out as he sunk to his knees, slamming a fist against the ground. It must have still been brittle from Akitsu freezing it, as the earth cracked and cratered around his fist at the second hit. Steam – no, smoke! – wafted off his back and shoulders, almost like he was going to burst into the fire he manipulated.

He, um… he didn't have any problem expressing his feelings over the matter.

"H-hey, Homura…" Hikari started, clinging to Seo. "That guy… was he your…" She trailed off, unsure.

Was his what? Ashikabi?

"You're still active." Hibiki added, keeping Seo's other hand pressed to her chest. The Twins looked beat. "That means he has to be still alive, right?" Homura didn't say anything. He just smoldered silently on the ground. "…Right? Oh…"

That… Hibiki had a point, Akitsu was still up and she was Shirou's Sekirei. That meant he could be alive–

"I… we don't get along but… I'm sorry Homura." Hikari shook her head. "That poor girl."

"What… but Akitsu…" I started.

"Is a Scrapped number." Homura's voice sounded hollow. "She can't have an Ashikabi."

That was… but…

Oh.

Oh…

*Chapter End*

A/N:

A big shoutout to ParadoxicalThought, HibernaLupus, OctZ and GodofChairs for my constantly disrupting their holidays. I hope you all had a happy holidays and have a happy new year. The next chapter may take a bit as I'm combining the OG chapters 8 and 9 into a restructured and less bloated chapter 8 for the rewrites. That will make it the last chapter of the rewrites however. Once its posted, I will update this story with all the rest of the 'new' chapters as well and both the OG and this will be updated at the same time.

If you've never read the original story, you can go ahead and skip this part talking about the changes if you wish. Many of you might have been aware, but this was the chapter that made me want to rewrite the first bit of this story. Back when I was trying (and failing) to keep a routine update schedule, I had the flue over Christmas and spent it typing up this chapter and posting it to hit that deadline.

That's part of the reason why a lot of the same ideas are repeated but in different ways in the OG – I had a 103 degree fever and couldn't keep my thoughts on track. The other part was I wanted Shirou to be going back and forth in his own head to show how conflicted he was – to really illustrate how he was on the very edge of picking either the EMIYA/Kiritsugu side of himself (and go towards the Bad End Rule of Steel) or the Shirou side. But… it went on way too long. Going back to reread it, I can see exactly where my fever brain lost my train of thought and where it picked back up again. That's why it repeated so much and was a slog to read. This time, I wanted to keep that same tension in the chapter, but without it dragging on and on or breaking the flow.

The other thing I wanted to touch on was Minato: In the OG, this was Minato's second POV and I wasn't sure exactly what voice he should have. Early Minato is whiny and wishy-washy and kinda easy to hate. Many of the reviewers questioned why he was included in the story in the first place and to that – I have plans. I think I've gotten a much better handle on him and how he grows as a character, and I think this time he comes across better – even if he is a bit whiny… he's just a sensitive little guy. He's sheltered to the extreme and conflict averse. Still, I wanted to keep some of the small moments where he really stood out – his big 'fuck this' moment in speaking to Seo and Yomi, but without the narrative inconsistencies I'd accidentally put through in the original – the reason why Musubi attacks Yomi this time and not Minato. It didn't make sense that – as the slowest member of the group – Minato would have reached Yomi first.

That is also why I shaped up (what I thought) to be some of the other inconsistencies in the story while still following the pinions of canon before things really go off the rails (those of you up to date on chapter 15/16 are probably aware of what I'm referring to). That's why Homura and the twins fight and Musubi pulls Minato away. In canon, the reason why only Yomi is there is because the twins and Homura are fighting against Akitsu… something that doesn't happen here. Instead, they stop fighting each other and fight off Mikogami's non-Akitsu and non-Mutsu reinforcements offscreen before catching up. There are no lasting consequences of that, however, so it didn't get a scene since no one gets deactivated.

And now on to Yomi's fight. Yomi is much weaker than Musubi. We see in canon that Musubi can take her with one-hand and no injuries but to her top. She was about to take Yomi down the same way until Homura and the twins stepped in. Unfortunately for Yomi, she then got a pissed off Shirou cutting into that particular dance. RIP.

Last not I'll address here since there were a lot of comments in the original chapter about if poor, poor Akitsu was breaking her seal… yes and no. She's still a Scrapped Number and can't be winged for now. She is, however, breaking her limits. Had Karasuba not shown up or Akitsu gotten that last bit of willpower, her seal would have broken here and turned her (and possibly Homura and the Twins) into ice sculptures.