Blade Of An Assassin...

Chapter 10 - Blade Of An Assassin...

The basement of the warehouse could be better described as a battlefield. No one was dead, but the number of bodies that littered the room was reminiscent of a graveyard.

Shirou stood amidst the chaos a little short on breath. The enclosed space didn't favor long range fighting with bow and arrows, and he had been forced to resort to Kuzuki's fighting technique. He was all the more glad that he had insisted on learning from him, because otherwise taking down an enemy with a single hit wouldn't have been as easy, unless he was willing to inflict crippling injuries. While he frankly believed that those people deserved a little pain, he wasn't comfortable with using more force than strictly necessary.

Now the way was clear, but there was still a high probability that Yukiko and her kidnappers could make it out of the building before he could get to her.

Recalling the layout of the electrical implant of the building, he reached for a box mounted in the nearby wall and pushed Prana through the wires.

Everywhere inside the building, electric appliances fried on the spot, light bulbs exploded and everything that was plugged in the electrical system was destroyed beyond recovery. The structure fell into darkness for a moment before the emergency lights lit up. Of course they were on a separate circuit and thus were unaffected by Shirou's overload.

The heavy gates that closed the garage however, were now sealed shut as a precautionary measure to avoid thefts. It would take them at least a few minutes to override the locks and get out from that way.

They could still leave by the emergency exits if so they wanted, but they would to do it on foot. Not a recommendable choice while carrying an unconscious girl.

With that knowledge in hand, he sprinted toward the stairs and to the next floor.

The man that called himself Sasaki waited patiently in the room where the intruder had to go through to reach the rest of the building. His good ears picked up the sound of gunfire below him. Slowly the number of explosions diminished, and soon the building fell into silence.

A moment later the lights flickered before exploding in a shower of sparks, throwing the room into pitch-black darkness. When the emergency lights turned on the swordsman was wearing a predatory grin of anticipation.

"Come to me," he whispered.

Sounds of hurried footsteps from beneath signaled the coming of his prey. At the speed he was coming up the stairs, the vigilante would barge through the door that looked like a wall in three, two, one…

… Nothing.

Not another sound was heard. Everything behind the fake wall was silent and unmoving.

He frowned in confusion, scanning the surface as if he could see through it. Honed instincts kicked in and he moved out of the way, just in time to avoid the rather thin but sturdy door pushed off its hinges and sent flying in his direction.

He pulled his katana out of the sheath in one fluid motion, cutting through the air and intercepting the flying arrows that were released toward his new position.

Oh, it was just perfect. Not even a minute into the fight and he already had to get serious.

"Now, now," he said to the darkness in front of him. "It's quite impolite to attack without showing yourself first. Why don't you- " again he had to move out of the way, using his sword to deflect those arrows that would have otherwise truck him.

"I see," he continued ,"you are not up for words while fighting, I assume. I can respect that. However…"

He charged toward the darkness, aiming to the spot where he was sure his foe was standing.

He wasn't disappointed when the vigilante had to jump out of his hiding spot, because even while on the defensive he still managed to send another couple of arrows in his direction.

"… if you are just going to stand still I'm going to cut you down."

Shirou dodged the exceptionally long katana and rolled out of the way.

"… if you are just going to stand still I'm going to cut you down," the purple haired man said. It wasn't an empty threat but a statement of intent. The man was dangerous, undoubtedly so.

Whoever he was, he definitely wasn't at the level of Kuzuki-sensei, but he was no slouch either. Furthermore, he used that sword like a master and the range of its attack was obviously superior to Shirou's fists.

To make things worse, arrows were apparently no good in a direct confrontation against this guy. He showed that he had enough experience, reflexes, and speed to either move or deflect long ranged attacks.

Shirou still had the advantage of his Reinforcement, but besides enhancing his strength, it still didn't offer enough speed to blindly rush into the man's guard without being struck down by his sword. An experienced swordsman, like the assassin in front of him, could determine an opponent's movements beforehand by the shift in his stance. There was an entire school of martial arts that focused on sending fake signals to deceive an opponent skilled enough to read such signs.

Shirou was nowhere skilled enough to pull out a fake opening style like that with the small amount of experience he had.

It was the same reason that he still had yet to best his teacher in spite of his magical augmentations. The gap in fighting experience was his major weakness right now. No matter how intense or numerous, training sessions only got you so far against opponents that had been through actual life or death situations.

He considered all that in a fraction of second, and while he had no doubt that his new opponent was a serious threat, there was something off about the entire situation.

Shirou had the distinct impression that, no matter how ridiculous it sounded even to himself, the sword was more dangerous that the swordsman wielding it.

A rapid surface tracing didn't reveal anything peculiar. It was an old blade, ancient even, but had no particular enhancements. It wasn't, say, a Mystic Code or a cursed item that had accidentally found its way into the hands of a normal human.

And yet…

Further contemplations had to be postponed to another time, as Shirou had to move out of the way of more incoming attacks.

Every strike the swordsman delivered was fast and precise, and only because Shirou had opted to abandon his body reinforcement in favor of his brain did he manage to react in time. As a consequence of the mismatch between his perceptions and physical reactions his movements became sloppier, but at least they got him out of the way of a very sharp death.

The situation wasn't good. He seriously hadn't planned to meet such a skilled opponent and he was running out of options. He had gained some time by messing up the electric circuits, but he was quickly losing that advantage. He didn't have the luxury of playing around with this guy.

However, making a run for it wasn't an option. The moment he turned his back on this man he would be struck down mercilessly. He needed a distraction…

"Not going to say anything? I really don't mind a little banter during a battle. Ah well, since I already know your alias, Archer-san, I might as well offer you mine. People in this business call me Sasaki, like Sasaki Kojirou, Musashi's legendary enemy."

Well, if arrows and fists didn't work maybe words would. Perhaps he could provoke his enemy into making a mistake?

"Sasaki?" Shirou finally spoke. "The fictional character?"

"Eh," the man scoffed not quite angered but certainly irritated at his simple dismissal. "Sasaki Kojirou was a real person. Oh, many things they say about him are indeed made up by over-imaginative writers, but Sasaki Kojirou, the real one, was a swordsman above all others, and this," he said showing his long blade, "was the last sword he wielded: Monohoshi-zao."

"You seem quite certain of that."

"I am. I spent a fortune in time, money and blood to get my hands on this piece of art, and I've spent all of my life mastering his techniques. I'm only missing the ultimate one, but it is said to be a technique that could rival Gods'. Nothing like that can be obtained easily."

Even to Shirou, a person who knew more about the world than most common people, that sounded like a ridiculous statement, and yet….

… he couldn't shake the feeling that there was some truth to that.

"A skilled swordsman like you..," Shirou spoke, "why are you offering your services to these people? For money?"

"Oh, vile money is but a means to an end," he said pulling his sword up to his eyes' level, pointed toward Shirou and with the reverse side to the ground. "The only reason for me to be in this city in the first place was meeting you."

"Me? What do I have to do with anything?"

"Don't you get it?" he chuckled. "In this ugly era, where strength is standardized through the use of firearms, there are still people like us: people who believe in their own power and potential; people who do things that can only be called insane or disturbed. And so I sought you, as I did in the past with many others who still believe in a different kind of strength. I knew that if I kept helping these people we would have eventually crossed paths."

"And here we are now. What do you plan to do now?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm going to KILL YOU!"

Sasaki was ecstatic. He knew beforehand that Archer was strong, but this exceeded his expectations. Despite having the advantage of a longer reach in melee combat, he found it extremely hard to hit his target.

The vigilante waved around his strikes, looking for an opening he could exploit. A moment of distraction and he would certainly receive a vicious blow that would break his bones.

That was exactly what he had been looking for, the kind of situation were a minor mistake would spell his defeat. This was what he needed to finally reach and break through his limits.

He didn't know how the boy in front of him could be so fast and strong, and frankly he really didn't care. Even if he could smash a door from its hinges without any momentum, or shoot three arrows per second with deadly precision, it didn't matter how he did it, so long as he could.

-oOo-

This wasn't going anywhere. The best Shirou could hope when fighting in close quarters with the formidable swordsman was to avoid being hit. There wasn't a single hole in his guard that he could exploit, no way he could overcome the immense gap in skills. Therefore….

… therefore he had to find a way to win without having to.

Dodging yet another powerful but graceful swing, Shirou leapt away from his foe. His opponent didn't give chase, opting to see what the vigilante was up to.

"Admirable," he said never once dropping his guard, "never before I've faced an opponent that could avoid my blade for so long. If I didn't have the advantage of reach, this battle would already have turned in your favor. However," again he rose his sword to his eyes, "it's time to end this."

'What to do, what to do, what to do, what to do? If only there was something I could…. Oh!'

Sasaki noticed the change in his opponent's eyes. The subtle gleam of one who had found a way through an obstacle was unmistakable. In spite of the implications he found himself unable to refrain from smirking.

He didn't expect for him to reach for his bow again. Had he been mistaken? Was it only the last ditch effort of a man cornered? There was only one way to find out.

Three arrows. That was all he had at his disposal. Three projectiles to put Sasaki in the only place where he could hope to defeat him. If he misjudged even a single shot it would have been all for naught.

Seeing his opponent shift in stance through his accelerated perceptions, Shirou crushed whatever second thought he might have had and cocked the first arrow.

In slow motion he watched Sasaki knock it down with his blade without losing his stride. The second arrow followed the first, aiming for the swordsman's left shoulder. With his sword in mid swing the swordsman was forced to spin and dodge to his right.

While the assassin pivoted to avoid the second arrow Shirou brought the last one out of the quiver, sending spark of Prana through its structure.

Under the effect of the applied energy, the arrowhead shifted as if it was made of liquid metal and then solidified in the shape intended by its wielder. No longer shaped like a ball, the now pointy projectile was no longer a common arrow either.

With a hiss of steel it sailed through the air toward its intended target.

In the fraction of second between the second arrow and the third Sasaki realized he had been played somehow. He didn't yet know exactly how, but despite being turned in the other direction he could already tell that the last projectile had something different from the previous.

His instinct screamed danger in a way it never did before. For the first time in a long while, he didn't know what to expect from an attack. Instead of intercepting the offending item with his sword, as he would have normally done, he halted his rotation half a step earlier and let it fly past him.

"You missed," he said, but when their gazes met, the look of certainty in the boy's eyes told an entirely different tale.

"Bullseye," the vigilante retorted.

Behind him, Sasaki heard a faint hissing noise. He turned his head just enough to see where the arrow had struck. A couple of small tanks were lined against the wall. The arrow had somehow managed to pierce through the metal and now the compressed gas was frantically escaping outside.

For a moment he didn't quite get what he hoped to accomplish with that, but then his eyes drifted to the flammable logo printed on the surface. At the very same moment, the still visible tip of the arrow ignited into a small flame all by itself.

"Tch!"

It was the last thing he said before the world went on fire around him.

"GAH!" Shirou grunted as the rapidly expanding air launched his body through the air and across the door. The force of the explosion projected him several meters away, making him roll on the ground a couple of times before reaching an halt against a wall-

He didn't expect that a reaction of that proportions when he shaped the arrowhead with a fire rune on its surface. He just wanted to create a distraction and strike Sasaki while he was looking elsewhere but…

He stood and watched his handiwork. The room he had previously been in was a blazing inferno. The flames were already spreading outside, attacking the crates and the wall of the building. There was no way someone could survive in there.

He had just…

'… Killed a man. I killed a man. I killed a man. Killed a man, killed a man, killedaman, killedaman killedaman! NO!'

Suppressing the urge to vomit that was quickly getting a hold over him, Shirou gritted his teeth and pushed the haunting thought aside. That wasn't the moment. He couldn't freeze, couldn't stop, couldn't waver. Yukiko still had to be rescued.

Sasaki's life was lost but that wasn't reason enough to forfeit his mission.

Quenching the nausea he made his way in the direction of the garage, where Yukiko and her captors were hopefully still blocked.

Had his mind not been muffled by regret and guilt, he would probably have heard the strike coming.

He hadn't taken three steps toward his destination when the scabbard impacted with his legs, making him stumble and fall on the ground in an ungraceful manner.

Immediately turning in the direction of the attack he saw something that was both elating and terrifying.

Sasaki Kojirou walked out of the blazing room with an ominous look on his face. Further enhancing his looks were the burns on his left arm and visage. His once long hair was now considerably shortened.

How he had managed not to be blown to pieces or burned to ashes Shirou didn't know, but as ridiculous as it sounded, he couldn't be happier at the outcome.

"I have gravely misunderstood you, Archer-san," the assassin declared without the slightest inflection of anger in his voice. "I thought you were a fighter like me, but you are a warrior instead. To think that you would use the environment as your own weapon… that was a serious blunder on my part."

"How did you…" Shirou wanted to ask. Sasaki merely shrugged.

"I cut the air to create a void," he explained like it was a common thing. "It was one of the techniques developed by Kojirou to cut beyond the reach of his sword. I never managed to employ it in such a manner before, perhaps because I had yet to be caught in an explosion. Truly, I'm most grateful for your assistance."

"You… really believe what you just said, don't you?"

"But of course. My whole life is for the sake of advancing my swordsmanship. To be wounded or to be killed are eventualities I put into account from the moment I decided to walk down this path. To bear resentment toward you would be most undignified."

"I see…, "Shirou admitted. And he did. Although he couldn't quite grasp Sasaki motives, he certainly could understand the driving force behind them. To put his own life on the line for the sake of his dreams… he was more similar to him than anybody else he met before.

"Now then… shall we continue?"

Shirou didn't question the man's resolve. He didn't question his willingness to continue fighting in spite of his wounds. If he was anything like him, then his own well being was secondary compared to his dream.

Pulling his fists in front of his chest, Shirou resumed The Snake guard stance. At that point there was no turning back, and no backing away either.

He would surpass this man or he would die trying.

Without another word, he charged.

Sasaki smiled. Even though his left arm was unusable and his face burned, he smiled. The light in his opponent's eyes was one of understanding. The reasons for them to fight were completely different, but that didn't matter. They had acknowledged one another.

Throwing away pointless concerns they moved to strike, both willing to break the other and themselves in order to step forward on their path of choice.

Archer came at him, fast and determined to strike first. Whatever sense of self-preservation he might have had was discarded to fight at the top of his skills. That was good, that was what he wanted.

Ignoring the pain he met him halfway and swung his sword in a horizontal motion. It was an awkward movement and nowhere near the level of his previous strikes, but it was still blindingly fast and strong.

He watched the blade sink into the arm of his opponent, carving through skin and muscle until it reached a halt against the bone. He wanted to slide the blade backward and away, to deliver the finishing blow but…

The blade dug into Shirou's skin and muscles. His reinforcement managed to absorb most of the swing's power, but it was the bone, the hardest and easiest part to reinforce that finally halted the attack.

In that moment he did something that was in equal parts reckless and brilliant.

He reinforced the flesh around the wound. Pouring and pouring Prana until the muscles broke, expanded and hardened with the consistency of a rock, effectively trapping the blade inside his body. It was the stupidest thing he ever did and therefore one not likely to be predicted by the swordsman.

The pain was blinding, both because of the wound and the excessive reinforcement, but it did its job. It wouldn't hold for long, but the look of surprise in Sasaki's eyes was the telltale sign of the opening Shirou was looking for.

His right fist targeted the assassin's arm. The sound of bones breaking under his knuckles was not unlike the ringing of a bell during a match.

In spite of his desire, Sasaki was forced to let the blade go, still buried in Shirou shoulder. With both arms incapacitated he would not be able to hold a blade for a long time.

He staggered backward with his arms limp at his sides. He leaned against a pillar, breathing heavily from the combination of pain and effort.

Defeat.

There was no longer a way for him to fight. By sacrificing his own arm, Archer had taken his, effectively concluding the battle.

"And so it ends…" he said bitterly. "I never imagined that I would be defeated like this, but it doesn't matter. I fought at the best of my abilities. I have no regrets."

His sword clattered on the ground, released from the impossible hold of flesh and bone.

The vigilante nursed his wound while keeping an eye on him. The cut looked bad, far more than it would have been if the injury had been caused only by his blade.

"… Can you get out of here by yourself?"

"Are you just letting me go?" he asked with no little amount of surprise.

"I don't have a choice," he explained, removing his jacket and ripping his shirt to make a bandage for his shoulder. "I don't have time to tie you up and take you out, and if just knock you out and leave you here…" he jerked to the flames with a nudge of his head. During their fight the fire had spread and was now consuming an entire wall. The smoke sensors and the sprinklers had probably been broken between the electric overload and the explosion.

"I see," he finally commented.

Tightening his bandages, Shirou stood straighter. Even by sending his Prana to Avalon, healing that kind of damage would take a few days. The best he could accomplish was numbing the pain a little, acquiring an awkward mobility. Even if he'd still had arrows, using the bow was out of the question.

"Take it," Sasaki said understanding his line of thought. "My sword. Take it with you."

"What? Why would you give me that sword? I thought it was something priceless."

"It is," he admitted, "but the purpose of a sword is to be wielded. Until both my arms heal I can't use it. There is no need for it to rust because of my weakness. Besides," he chuckled, "so long as you have it, you won't forget that one day I'll come to take it back, along with your life."

Shirou picked Monohoshi-zao from the ground with no little amount of reverence and caution. Now that it was in his hand, the long katana felt even more dangerous than before.

His eyes returned to the assassin. "So long as you promise not to put innocents in danger, I'll accept your challenge again next time."

"Feh! You're such a bleeding heart, Archer-san. As you wish. As the loser of this battle, I'll accept your conditions."

Having regained some of his breath, he stood straight again, fixing his gaze on his opponent. "Become stronger, Archer-san. Next time I will not underestimate you again."

Without waiting for a word of acknowledgement, Sasaki turned around and limped toward the exit.

As he watched him disappear between flames and smoke, Shirou sheathed the sword and awkwardly strapped it to his back. It was almost tall as he was, and only because it hung diagonally across his back did it not touch the floor as he moved around.

It was better than proceeding without a weapon at all, but he was sure he couldn't use it properly, not with his height and with a single arm.

Pushing the thought aside he made his way toward the garage were hopefully Yukiko's captor were still blocked.

"I'm almost done boss," the muscled, bald man shouted as he tinkered with the big metal shutter that closed the garage filled with small trucks and several cars.

"About time," Ryuji shouted back from the side of the car. "I don't trust that Sasaki and that explosion a while ago isn't a good sign either. The sooner we get out of here, the better."

"You aren't going anywhere," an unknown voice said from somewhere above him.

Unlike most idiot thugs, Ryuji didn't bother asking who spoke, but simply drew his gun and shoot a couple of bullets toward the voice. They flew through empty space and impacted against a wall, completely missing their target.

"Tch," he snarled. "I should have known that Sasaki wasn't as good as he said to be."

"Oh, but you're wrong," the disembodied voice said. "Sasaki was very good…but not good enough."

No one said anything for a moment and the silence was broken by the sound of a door slamming open. In a surprising show of intelligence, the bald man had escaped through an emergency exit.

"Bastard," he snarled after his traitorous companion.

"Money can't buy you loyalty," the voice said.

"Fuck you," he said to the empty space in front of him but with his eyes darting in all directions. "I don't need life lessons from a brat. Who sent you? Huh? What bastard sold me out?"

"Your own actions sold you out," the voice answered with no effort of concealing the underlying anger. "You honestly thought that you could continue this monstrosity forever? Think again. It's time to close the curtain on your business."

"Shut up, you bastard! Just shut up!" He pointed the gun toward the sleeping from of the girl resting on the back seat. He chuckled. "Tell you what. You open up the shutter for me, and I won't put a bullet between the eyes of this little bitch. How does that sound for a deal?"

"I don't like it," the voice said, this time sounding awfully close, like he was just behind him.

There was no time to turn, no time to keep his threat to shoot the girl who had caused so many troubles. There was a hiss of steel and the gun, the goddamn gun was cut in two part like it was made of paper. Out of fear he rolled away, turning just enough to see his assailant with Sasaki's sword in his hand.

His bloodshot eyes were positively murderous, burning with a rage he had never seen before. He was wounded and looked more than a little tired. No matter how strong he actually was, taking down someone at the end of his rope shouldn't have been too much of a problem but the coward's instincts told him not to mess with the haggard hero.

Pulling out his second gun he stood on his feet and slowly made his way toward the exit walking backward.

Archer watched the mastermind of the crime ring pointing a gun at him. He could have attacked him but frankly speaking he had very little energy left and there was no real intention of shooting in his eyes. If he was just going to leave then he had no reason to pursue. Considering what he saw from a window before he got there, he wouldn't go too far.

Besides, he had very little energy left and he needed all of it to take Yukiko out and to leave the scene.

The man finally reached to door and kicked it open, disappearing beyond it immediately afterward. Sagging in relief, Shirou sheathed the sword and turned to the unconscious girl. No amount of nudging managed to wake her up. She had probably been drugged so that she wouldn't resist during the transfer. At least she was unhurt, and there was no trace of the abuse the other girls had suffered.

Good. Good! Finally something positive. Tohsaka would be relieved and so would be Yukiko's parents.

Gently he pulled her out of the car, and ignoring the pain in his arm he lifted her bridal style. Slowly, he went to the emergency exit where the other two had left the building moments before, and pushed it open.

Or at least he tried. The handle went down without a problem but the door didn't budge. Damn it. The bastard had to have it blocked behind him to avoid being followed. In hindsight he should have seen it coming.

Mulling over it would do no good. He had to go back all the way to the main part of the building if he wanted to get out…the part of the building that was certainly a hell of flames by then.

Pulling up the shutters with his arm like that was not an option either. No, he'd have to risk it and go back from the other side. Taking a series of deep breaths he made his way toward the only exit available.

Ryuji kicked the door open and slipped outside, never removing his sight from the vigilante. It didn't look like he planned to follow, but it was better to play it safe. When the door closed back he moved several trash containers in front of it and then blocked the wheels. No way the bastard would come after him from that way.

Now all he had to do was get away from there and then plan his revenge against the masked brat and whoever it was that had sent him there.

Laughing to himself, he sprinted toward the end of the alley and to freedom.

"FREEZE!" a chorus of voices shouted as soon as he stepped outside. "Drop your weapon. NOW!"

"Fuck," was the only thing he muttered as he dropped the gun and raised his hands over his head. "Just… fuck!"

After escorting the girls away from the facility where they had been kept, Rin called the police from a public phone explaining the situation in general terms and without identifying herself.

A minor hypnosis on the girls and they would be unable to remember her face properly. The police would chalk it up to the shock and no one would connect her to this situation. At worst, rumors of Archer having a female partner would spread, but that wasn't something to be concerned about.

When she heard the sirens of the police getting closer she disappeared and took the long way back toward the warehouse.

Archer said that he would take care of Yukiko. However, while she trusted his words to a measure, there was still a chance that he could need her help. So, she decided to remain in the neighborhood, just in case.

What she didn't expect upon returning to that place was finding half the building ablaze.

The police had barely enough time to call the firefighters, and it would take a few minutes for them to arrive. In the meantime the fire would spread even further, and there was no trace of Archer anywhere.

For a moment she considered going back inside but her idea was soon crushed when a TV troupe arrived on the scene.

How had they found out about the situation so quickly? Had they followed the police or had someone tipped them off? Regardless of the reason, now she couldn't just put herself into the spotlight anymore. The word of a few officers could easily be buried, but there was no way her or anyone else could hide magic with cameras nearby. She was stuck.

Gritting her teeth in annoyance she muttered, "Archer, you'd better live up to your word."

She watched as even more police car and ambulance gathered, and several people were either arrested or hospitalized. The firefighters finally arrived and immediately began containing the flames. In the meantime the reporters kept chattering about the newly discovered prostitution ring and even a good number of curious civilians began pooling around the police line.

More arrests were made when two other guys slipped out from the side of the building but still there was no trace of the black clad hero.

A few more minutes passed and then it happened.

Kazushi Misato, a forty-something year old report never thought that working in Fuyuki would be an interesting experience. When she was young(er) she thought that her skills as a reporter and her dedication to the job would have made her famous, but in spite of her efforts her career never really managed to take flight.

It wasn't all that surprising, not while living in Fuyuki, and when her youth passed, so did her chances to be something more than a passing face on the evening news.

Even the tip she received from her friend within the police wasn't that incredible. Sure, a prostitution ring based in Fuyuki was a major discovery for the usually quite tow, but hardly something to make the national news.

However, all of that changed when HE stepped out of that door.

He came walking out, carrying the limp form of a girl in his arms. Even with his mask on he looked like someone who had just been through hell, and yet his back stood straight and proud.

His jacket was missing its left sleeve and the same arm was roughly bandaged with a black cloth. He had a katana almost as long as he was tall instead of a bow, but there was no mistaking the infamous Archer that was on everyone's lips recently

"My god. Zoom in on him. Zoom in on him," she whispered to her aid, a bearded man with the camera.

A paramedic rushed toward him with a stretcher and picked the girl from his arms, quickly moving her toward the closest ambulance.

He stood there for a moment, until a cop reached out for him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You've got to come with me, kid," she heard the man in uniform say.

"Sorry. I have to decline, sir," the masked boy answered weakly. No one expected what happened immediately after he uttered those words.

It all happened in a flash. One moment he was standing still with a hand on his shoulder, and a split second afterward he had freed himself and begun running toward the crowd.

He moved like a blur. Three officers tried to stop him, but he pivoted around them without losing his stride. He should have had a hard time passing through the gathered crowd that was now filming and taking shots with their phones.

Instead of that option, he went toward one of the police cars that were at the edge of the crime scene, jumped on the hood and used it like a platform to leap over the crowd, passing exactly above Misato and her troupe.

He didn't waste any time looking back, taking all the advantage he had over his would be pursers. He disappeared into the night long before the cops could manage to untangle themselves and their cars from the mass of stunned people.

"Tell me you got that," she said caught in awe.

"Every. Single. Moment," the cameraman replied with a grin.

Now, THAT, would definitely make the national news.

The man called Sasaki Kojirou watched the vigilante disappear into the night. Good. It would do him no good if his last foe were captured so easily. Not while they had an agreement.

It had been a humbling experience for the man who had devoted his life to his sword. He had been narrow sighted and forgot that there's more to a battle than the battle itself.

His opponent wasn't like him. He didn't seek battle for what he could gain out of it. All the time during their exchange, Archer wasn't looking at him, but beyond. That was the reason for his loss. His skills were superior and he had the advantage of a better-suited weapon. Yet he still lost.

'Mindset'

He had been bested through mindset alone.

He was a swordsman, a fighter. The battle in front of him was all he cared for. Archer, however, was different. The battlefield was a means to an end: important, but not necessary. He looked beyond his foe and grasped victory from the clutches of certain defeat.

Like a general would. Like a King would.

Potential, potential. So much potential.

The loss of his sword and the temporary incapacitation of his arms was a small price to pay for the discovery of such a diamond in the rough.

Since the day he picked up the name and the sword of the man he wanted to reach and surpass, this was the first time that defeat didn't have a bitter taste.

Actually, he was glad of having lost at that point. It would have been a shame to kill the boy when he could still grow so much.

Yes, that was something to look forward to: a worthy opponent, in skills and in sprit. He could wait for him to grow a little more before coming back to claim his life.

In the meantime, he had to take care of his wounds, find another suitable sword and grow a little stronger in the process.

With a smile, he turned around and disappeared in the streets of Fuyuki.

Shirou managed to sneak in the narrow space between two buildings just a moment before a police car zoomed past him. That had been close, way to close for comfort. He had severely underestimated the situation and overestimated his own abilities. The constant switching between Reinforced and not Reinforced states drained him of his reserves faster than if he kept himself constantly accelerated.

He would have to rethink his training routine if he managed to return home and after healing his wounds.

If he had been only a little less strong, a little less fast, a little less determined he wouldn't have managed to save Yukiko. Too close…it had been too close.

Yet… just this once… everyone had been saved. Right?

Leaning against the wall, Shirou closed his eyes for a moment to regain his strength before attempting to return home, and in that precise moment he heard someone step inside the street.

Rin was more athletic than people gave her credit for, and she also happened to be more rested than Archer was. She followed him at a distance, not because she didn't want him to notice her, but because she didn't want to be associated with him if the police managed to catch him. It was selfish, but there was no way for her to help him if it happened. She would only end up in trouble with him.

She watched him sneak between two buildings just a moment before a police car managed to catch a glimpse of him. She waited another moment and then went after him.

He was leaning against the wall, short on breath. His arm was wounded and a trail of blood was seeping from the bandages. He looked devastated and more than a little scared. Of what? Being caught? Being wounded?

No, somehow he didn't look scared for himself.

In that moment he noticed her presence and his eyes snapped open, his body tensed, though ready for fight or flight she couldn't tell. He blinked and then she recognized her. His body immediately relaxed-

"Ah, it's you Tohsaka-san. Are you all right? Are the girls safe."

"They are," she answered. "They are. Just like Yukiko."

"Good… good…"

"…. You kept your word," she said watching him slump on the ground.

"Yes… Yes I did… I… We saved everyone didn't we?"

"Yes. We saved everyone. Not bad for a night's work and an improvised partnership."

"No," he grunted and he pulled himself up. "Not bad at all."

"What are you going to do now?"

"Get home," he grunted walking past her, "get some sleep."

"Are you sure you're going to make it on your own?"

"Yeah. It's going to take some time but I'll make it. You should go back home too."

"Hm," she admitted. "I'll see you around then."

"Eventually," he agreed. "Good night, Tohsaka-san."

"Good night and thank you, Emiya-kun."

"Anytime, Tohsaka-san. Anytime."

He disappeared behind the corner, not even realizing what he had just let slip. She shook her head and sighed. That fool. It was way too easy to pry a secret out of him. She'd have to keep an eye on him, else he put himself in too much trouble for him to handle.

Somehow… it didn't feel like a chore at all.

Later that night

It took him the better part of an hour to change into his normal clothes and return home. Frankly, he didn't even remember the way he took to get back there.

He was positively exhausted. Too much to even think about what had happened.

Once home he drew a bath for himself, cleaned and changed the bandages with something appropriate. The entire time his mind was caught in a sort of numbness, partially due to the extended time he kept his brain reinforced.

Only after a quick meal his mind managed to recover a little lucidity. He laid out his futon, changed into his pajama and slipped under the covers. He would probably skip school the next day, but frankly he didn't care.

He had saved everyone, and that was all that mattered. Despite the soreness, the tiredness and the pain he felt elated like he never did before.

The girls would be fine and Tohsaka too would finally stop worrying about her friend. She had acted so detached earlier, but she was clearly happy.

Even if his back was turned to her when she thanked him he could picture her smile just by the sound of her voice.

He couldn't help but smile while he recalled her words.

'Thank you, Emiya-kun.'

His brain finally processed exactly what she said to him as he left and a single word escaped his mouth, still frozen in an idiotic looking smile.

"Fuck…."

Somewhere else

Sitting behind a desk in a dimly lit room, the man picked up his phone and dialed the usual number.

"It's me," he said when the line connected. "Everything went without a hitch."

"The journalists weren't planned," the voice answered.

"Oh, that was my doing. I couldn't be seen on the scene in person after all, but I still needed someone to bring me some actual facts instead of the bullshit my colleagues would have tried to sell. Besides, I really want to see what he's going to do now that he no longer has the advantage of being considered a myth."

"You seem rather taken with this Archer."

"How could I not? He's the most exciting thing that ever happened in this shithole of a city. I really look forward to messing around with him."

"Do as you please, but try not to get caught in your own games. I would rather not have to look for another semi-competent helper."

"Your concern is touching," he chuckled. "What about your girl anyway? Are you still going to get her?"

"Of course. Setting each pawn in the proper place was the trickiest part. All that's left now is to capture the Queen."

"Suit yourself. I leave you to your machinations. My job is done. I'll be expecting the other half of the payment soon."

"As per our agreement," the voice confirmed, before cutting the conversation.

The man put away his phone and stood, just a moment before the door to the room was pushed open, flooding the place with light.

"What the hell are you doing in here with the lights turned off?"

"Ah, sorry. Sorry, senpai," he said scratching his head. "I had to make a personal call, you know?"

"Whatever. Get your stuff and let's head out. Kazama Yukiko regained consciousness and I want to ask her what she knows about Archer."

"Sure. I'll meet you in the parking lot in a minute."

"Make me wait even a second and you'll be writing all the reports for the next two weeks."

"Eeeeh? No way," He scurried out of the room in a hurry. "Geez, you are too harsh sometimes, Dojima-senpai."

"Quit your yapping and get moving, Adachi!"

Not wanting to spend the next few weeks doing paperwork, Adachi made a run for his desk. Sometimes having Dojima for a boss sucked, but hey, fresh information on his new favorite past time was totally worth it.

Stifling a chuckle he gathered his stuff and followed after his senior. Just another day on the job...