The raincoat hung awkwardly on Shirō's frame, barely hiding the regal blue outfit beneath. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than borrowing Sakura's clothes, which felt too personal and too strange to even consider. Shirō kept the hood up, shielding her face as she followed Rin to the church, her footsteps hesitant, her mind spinning with questions and doubts. Archer, of course, remained outside, standing guard like the aloof sentinel he always pretended to be.
Inside, the dimly lit church carried a heavy, foreboding atmosphere. The air smelled faintly of old wood and incense, and the silence was oppressive. At the altar stood a tall, imposing man in black, his expression unreadable.
"Ah, Rin," Kirei Kotomine greeted, his deep voice carrying an almost unsettling calm. His sharp eyes flicked to Shirō, lingering for a moment before narrowing. "I see you've brought Saber… or perhaps not. Where is her Master?"
Rin crossed her arms, her gaze challenging. "That's… complicated."
Kirei raised an eyebrow, his curiosity evident, though his expression remained neutral.
Rin took a deep breath and launched into an explanation of the bizarre events that had led them here, detailing Shirō's transformation and her apparent status as a Saber-class servant. She spoke quickly, almost as if she were trying to convince herself as much as the priest.
If Kirei was shocked by the story, he hid it well. His face remained impassive, though there was a glint of something unreadable in his eyes, amusement, perhaps, or intrigue. "Fascinating," he finally said, his tone as calm as ever. "But I'm afraid I have no explanation for this phenomenon. It seems you've encountered something truly unprecedented."
Shirō frowned, her fingers tightening around the edges of her raincoat. "So, no one knows why this happened?" she asked quietly, almost to herself.
Kirei shook his head. "No. But if you wish to uncover the truth, participating in the Holy Grail War may be your only option."
Shirō hesitated, glancing down at her hands. The memories of the fire ten years ago resurfaced, vivid and unrelenting. She clenched her fists, her resolve hardening. "Then I'll join," she said firmly. "If this war is connected to what happened ten years ago, I need to know."
Rin arched an eyebrow but said nothing, turning on her heel and heading for the door. Shirō followed, her thoughts a chaotic swirl of determination and uncertainty.
As they stepped outside, the cool night air greeted them, and Shirō pulled her hood tighter against the drizzle. Rin suddenly stopped and turned to face her, her expression cold and distant.
"From this point on, we're enemies," Rin said sharply.
Shirō blinked, startled. "What? But—"
"No buts, Emiya-kun," Rin interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. "We're competing for the Grail, and that means I won't hesitate to kill you if I have to. As your classmate, I'm giving you a head start. But the next time we meet, only one of us will walk away."
"But Rin—"
"Goodbye, Emiya-kun."
With that, Rin turned and walked away, Archer following silently at her side. Shirō stood frozen, watching their retreating figures until they disappeared into the darkness.
A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she turned to make her way home, her footsteps slow and weary. The raincoat felt heavier than ever, the events of the night pressing down on her shoulders like a physical weight.
Thump. Thump.
The sound of heavy footsteps behind her snapped her out of her thoughts. Shirō froze, her heart racing. The footsteps were slow but deliberate, each one sending a jolt of unease through her.
She turned, her breath catching in her throat.
A massive figure loomed in the darkness—a hulking, dark-looking man with an aura of pure menace. Beside him stood a young girl, perhaps twelve or thirteen years old, her delicate features twisted in shock as she stared at Shirō.
"Big Brother," the girl said, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and confusion. "I heard that you summoned your—" She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she took in Shirō's appearance. "Is that you… Big Brother?"
Shirō blinked, utterly baffled. "Uh… I'm Emiya Shirō," she said awkwardly, giving a small, hesitant wave. "Nice to meet you?"
The girl's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. "But my big brother was a boy!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with a mix of bewilderment and indignation.
Shirō scratched the back of her head awkwardly. "Uh… yeah, it's… complicated. But who are you, anyway?"
The girl straightened, placing her hands primly on her hips, as if offended Shirō didn't already know. "I am Illyasviel von Einzbern," she announced, her voice dripping with pride. "You can call me Illya."
"Oh, uh, that's… nice," Shirō replied, still trying to process what was happening. She gestured toward the massive figure standing like a mountain behind Illya. "And this… gentleman?"
Before Illya could answer, a low, guttural growl rumbled through the night air. The sound alone sent a shiver down Shirō's spine.
"He is Berserker, my Servant," Illya said cheerfully, as though introducing a beloved family pet rather than a hulking monster that looked like it could tear through a steel wall with ease.
"Oh, uh…" Shirō took a hesitant step back, her instincts screaming at her to flee. "The Holy Grail War? You too? Cool. So, uh, I just remembered—I left my rice in the cooker, so I should probably go take care of that. Bye—!"
A massive fist smashed into the ground where she had been standing. Shirō stumbled back with a gasp, her body moving on its own as she narrowly avoided being flattened. Dust and debris exploded into the air, and she coughed, waving a hand in front of her face. "What the—?!"
Berserker rose from his crouch, towering over her like a shadow given form. His eyes glowed with a terrifying intensity, his every movement radiating raw, primal power.
"Berserker," Illya called sweetly, her smile widening. "If this really is my big brother, then I suppose I should capture him!"
"What big brother?!" Shirō shouted, her voice rising in pitch. She darted to the side as Berserker's massive arm swung down like a guillotine, obliterating the ground. "I don't have a sister! Unless you're talking about ten years ago, from—"
Her words faltered as another attack came her way, forcing her to leap back. Her movements were smooth, almost graceful, each dodge taking her just out of Berserker's reach. Shirō blinked, startled by how natural it felt. Her body moved faster, lighter than it ever had before. How was she doing this?
"Stop!" she shouted, her voice cracking as she narrowly avoided another blow that left a crater in the street. "Hey, I'm serious, cut it out!"
Illya tilted her head, pouting. "Big Brother, you're no fun. I thought we'd play together!"
"THIS ISN'T PLAYING!" Shirō yelled, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. But her words fell on deaf ears as Berserker lunged at her, his sheer size and speed overwhelming.
Before she could fully react, Berserker's massive hand closed around her torso, lifting her off the ground as though she weighed nothing. Shirō squirmed, panic setting in as the pressure on her ribs grew unbearable.
"Let's go home now, Big Brother," Illya said, her tone as sweet as ever. "I'll take good care of you, I promise!"
Shirō struggled, her voice coming out in a pained gasp. "No—wait—stop! This isn't—ugh!"
Berserker's grip tightened, and Shirō braced herself for what felt like certain death. But before the monster could crush her, a sudden flash of crimson streaked through the night.
A small arrow struck Berserker's shoulder—not enough to harm him, but enough to startle him into loosening his grip. Shirō didn't hesitate. Using the opportunity, she slipped from his grasp and hit the ground running.
Her feet carried her faster than she thought possible, her body a blur as she darted through the streets. The wind whipped past her face, her raincoat flapping wildly behind her. She didn't stop, didn't look back, her only thought to get as far away as possible.
Behind her, Illya clicked her tongue in annoyance, watching as Shirō disappeared into the distance. "Tch. She's fast," Illya muttered, crossing her arms. "But that's fine. Big Brother won't get away from me for long."
[—(/-\)—]
Huffing and out of breath, Shirō leaned against the cold walls of the school's student council room. Her heart was still racing from the events of the night before. Was this how the Holy Grail War was going to be? Six pairs of Masters and Servants hunting each other down, and her—apparently a Saber-class Servant—being the weakest of them all? She loved helping others, but now, saving her own skin felt like an impossible luxury.
"Okay, calm down," she muttered, pacing the room. "Let's just get back home. Totally, it's not like Illya is waiting outside my house with that Berserker to turn me into a pancake..."
...on second thought, maybe spending the night here wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Wrapping herself in her raincoat for warmth, she curled up on the floor. The soft hum of distant streetlights and the quiet creaks of the school building lulled her into an uneasy sleep.
[—(/-\)—]
The next morning, Issei Ryūdō, the ever-dedicated Student Council President, entered the council room in high spirits. Training to be a monk was no easy feat, but he'd managed to balance his responsibilities well. Among his peers, he prided himself on being one of the few untouched by the distractions of romance or anything weird. Well, aside from Emiya-kun, but that guy was weird in his own way.
As he stepped further into the room, his foot caught on something—or rather, someone.
"Eep!" Issei stumbled, catching himself just in time to avoid falling. His eyes darted down, widening in shock. There, sprawled out on the floor, was what he initially thought to be a thief.
But as his gaze adjusted, he froze. It wasn't a thief at all—it was a girl. A girl with flowing blonde hair, dressed in a peculiar, almost medieval blue-and-gold armoured dress. She snored softly, using what appeared to be a yellow raincoat as a makeshift pillow.
What the heck was going on?
His voice wavered as he reached out hesitantly, trembling slightly. "Um... Miss? Excuse me, but... what are you doing here?"
The girl stirred, her eyelids fluttering open to reveal forest-green eyes. She blinked blearily before her gaze landed on him.
"Issei?" she mumbled, her voice groggy and confused.
He flinched. She knew his name?! How? His mind raced, flipping through every possible scenario. Was this some kind of prank? A test? Or worse, a curse?!
"Um... Miss?" His voice cracked slightly. "What are you doing here? And... who are you?"
The girl blinked again, sitting up slowly as she rubbed her eyes. "What do you mean—" she started, only to stop short as she finally took a good look at herself. Her eyes widened in horror.
"...That wasn't a dream," she muttered under her breath.
"Huh?" Issei tilted his head, still utterly lost.
The girl turned to him with a sheepish look on her face, clutching the raincoat to her chest. "Sorry! Gotta go!" she blurted out before bolting for the door.
"Wait, what—?!" Issei called after her, but she was already gone, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.
The students milling about the hallways and campus grounds were met with an unusual sight that morning. A blonde foreign girl, clad in what appeared to be medieval armour beneath a hastily donned raincoat, darted through the school, her expression a mix of embarrassment and panic.
"Who was that?" one student whispered to another.
"Is there some kind of cosplay event today?" another asked, tilting their head.
"I didn't hear anything about it... but she looked like a knight or something."
Shirō kept her head down, ignoring the murmurs and stares as best as she could. Her face burned with shame. She just needed to get out of here, get home, and figure out what in the world she was going to do next.
Who was she now? And how on earth was she supposed to survive like this?