Sorry people for starting the chapter with a comment of mine that is not the chapter itself. But I wanted to give my most sincere thanks to Ultimate_Lexa, who has not only been supporting this project of mine since chapter 0. Maybe for him/her it's not a big deal, but for me as an author (especially as a newbie author) it makes me very excited and fills me with motivation to continue writing when I see that people like this watch my fanfic and support it.
Of course, I do not exclude you my good Senj1, you have also been present since chapter 0 and I thank you both for supporting this story, as well as anyone else who has been a faithful silent reader
I thank you all from the depths of my soul! *Cries with emotion xd*
Well, anyway. Normally I would not take this section to talk about these sentimental topics, it is not my style to cut the immersion with these types of comments. But this time it's worth it
For what reason?
Well, it's very simple, my little Padawan who loves Saber-faces: I suspect that Ultimate_Lexa is the administrator of the fucking Matrix!!! Because he patiently read my mind! This guy is so cool that he literally took part of his valuable time to make an image of the MC (Shirou Emiya), and in some supernatural way he perfectly understood the idea I had in my head about the appearance of my protagonist in this fanfic
It is for this reason that I decided to make this comment/thank you both to he/she and to everyone else. From now on the image I created will be the new cover of this fanfic (with your permission of course)
Here I leave the image also just in case and because I am a sick perfectionist xd [IMG]
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Chapter 11: A Fleeting Week
Tohsaka Mansion – Monday Night
Rin Tohsaka's study was immersed in a silence broken only by the soft crackle of the fireplace. The firelight danced across the spines of magic books, creating shadows that seemed to whisper ancient secrets. Rin, however, paid no attention to the volumes. Her gaze was fixed on a point in the air, but her mind was far away, tangled in a problem that had a first and last name: Shirou Emiya.
Ever since she agreed to take him as a student a few hours ago, a subtle but persistent disquiet had settled in her chest. It wasn't fear, nor simple academic curiosity. It was the sensation of standing on the edge of a precipice, about to take a step toward something that would change everything.
'Shirou Emiya' She thought, savoring the name. 'Son of the Magus Killer. Probably a boy adopted at some point before the man's death. A survivor of the Fuyuki fire. A boy with magical circuits tangled like a ball of yarn and a spiritual presence that... shines. Something he should have been taught to hide, but he wasn't, and now it falls to me to prevent any competent magus from sniffing around my student's secrets. Tsk.'
That "shine" was what intrigued her most. It wasn't the normal glow of a magus with a high circuit count. It was something purer, more fundamental, like the light of a star seen through a prism. When she closed her eyes and sharpened her magical senses, she could perceive it: a faint but unyielding luminosity emanating from his core, defying the ordinary logic of the magical world.
And then there was the fact that Kirei Kotomine had sent him to her.
Rin frowned. Her "guardian" was a man whose motivations were as opaque as the ocean's depths. For him to hand her such a peculiar student couldn't be an act of simple benevolence. It was a move. But to what end?
She stood up and walked to the window. Outside, the full moon bathed the garden in its silvery light, illuminating the protective patterns her family had woven into the land for generations.
The next Holy Grail War was approaching. Only about six years remained. As the Tohsaka heir, it was her duty— her destiny— to participate. Her father had died in the last one, and she swore not to make his mistakes. She needed to be strong, intelligent, flawless. And she needed every possible advantage.
'Shirou Emiya is an advantage' She thought, and the idea felt both thrilling and dangerous. 'He is an anomaly. And in the Grail War, anomalies can be the difference between victory and death'
She recalled what she had perceived during her brief magical evaluation: those tangled yet vibrant circuits, that anomalous luminosity of the soul. And then there were the stories— the rumors circulating among the few reliable sources she had in the magical world— about the Fuyuki fire, about the "alleged" but undoubtedly impossible corruption of the Grail, and about the impossibility of any non-magical living being surviving a fire of such magnitude... Yet here he was, alive and well, asking for her guidance.
'What are you really, Emiya?' She wondered, watching her reflection in the windowpane. 'An accident? A miracle? Or something someone planned?'
And more importantly: how did he fit into her own plans?
Rin Tohsaka was not sentimental. She had learned since childhood that magecraft was a path of sacrifices and hard choices. But she was also pragmatic. If this boy, with his strange potential, was going to be involved in the next Grail War— and everything in her being told her he would be— then it was better he be on her side. Or at least, under her supervision.
A cold, clear resolve took root in her heart. Saturday's lesson wouldn't be just an introduction to magecraft. It would be the first stone of a bridge she would build between her world and Shirou Emiya's. A bridge that, when the Grail War arrived, could be the path to victory.
Or, at the very least, to survival.
* * *
Emiya Residence – Early Tuesday Morning
Shirou couldn't sleep.
He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling illuminated by the faint moonlight filtering through the window. In his mind, one image repeated over and over: Rin Tohsaka on the threshold of her mansion, with those perfectly symmetrical black twin-tails and those blue eyes assessing him as if he were a rare specimen.
But it wasn't the current Rin Tohsaka keeping him awake. It was another Rin. A Rin from his visions.
From the moment he first saw her in front of the Tohsaka mansion, something in his mind had clicked. An instant, visceral recognition that made no logical sense, but one he had grown accustomed to over time.
In his visions— those chaotic fragments of possible futures that had haunted him since the fire— he had seen an older girl. Perhaps seventeen or eighteen. With the same jet-black hair, the same twin-tails, but with a different expression: harder, more tired, yet also more determined. And beside her, a tall man with dark skin, white hair, and silver eyes that shone with an almost painful intensity.
The two fought together. Against what or whom, the images were blurry. But Shirou could feel the intensity of that battle, the desperation in the air, the sound of magical projectiles tearing through the night. And he could see— with a clarity that chilled him— how that older Rin trusted that man in white, how their movements complemented each other as if they had fought together all their lives.
'Her' Shirou thought, turning onto his side in bed. 'That's her. Or she will be. Or she could be.'
Logic told him it was impossible. The visions were just fragments, feverish dreams of a traumatized mind. But something deeper— something that resonated in the core of his being, in that place from which his firmest determinations arose— whispered that no, those images were as real as the pain of the bruises Taiga left on him during training.
And that Rin from the visions... was connected to him. Directly. He couldn't see himself with her, but the feeling was undeniable. Wherever that older Rin appeared in his visions, there was a presence, a silent observer— or perhaps not— of himself nearby. As if their destinies were intertwined by invisible threads that traversed time.
Was that why Kirei had sent him to her? Because in some possible future— or in many possible futures— Rin Tohsaka and Shirou Emiya were destined to cross paths, to fight together, to...?
He didn't finish the thought. He couldn't. The idea was too big, too overwhelming for a twelve-year-old boy just beginning to understand his own place in the world. Besides, it wasn't logical. Kirei wasn't a prophet, not like him, he had no way of knowing about his future connection with Rin.
But one thing he did know for sure: from that first moment he saw her, he felt a strange mix of familiarity and anticipation. Like reuniting with someone you hadn't seen in a long time, while simultaneously meeting a complete stranger.
And that feeling had only grown during their brief conversation in the mansion. Every word from her, every gesture, every assessing glance... everything resonated with those echoes of the future he carried within.
Shirou closed his eyes, trying to cling to the image of the older Rin from his visions. He saw her standing next to that man in white, the two of them back-to-back, preparing for a battle that seemed impossible to win. And in her eyes— those same blue eyes that now looked at him with a mix of disdain and curiosity— he saw not fear, but a fierce determination. The determination of someone who had decided what was important and would fight for it no matter the cost.
'Is that you, Tohsaka?…' He thought, addressing both the girl he knew and the one from his visions mentally. 'The one who fights to the end, no matter how impossible it seems?'
A warm feeling— not of romantic attraction, but of deep recognition, of anticipated camaraderie— spread in his chest. Taiga could joke all she wanted about "dates" and "marriage." But what Shirou felt toward Rin Tohsaka was different, something more complex. It was the recognition of a potential ally. Of someone who, in some future, might stand by his side when things got really tough.
Shirou opened his eyes and looked toward the window, where the moon hung like a silver coin in the night sky.
Saturday wouldn't just be his first magic lesson. It would be the first step toward understanding. Toward discovering why his visions showed Rin Tohsaka fighting alongside a mysterious man. Toward discovering what role he— Shirou Emiya— played in that possible future.
And toward discovering, finally, if that future was something he could change, or if it was a destiny he couldn't escape.
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Homurahara Academy and Emiya Residence – Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday
The days between the encounter at the church and the first lesson with Rin passed with a breathless speed. Time, which sometimes dragged heavily during history classes, now seemed to compress, as if the universe were eager to get him to Saturday.
On Tuesday, during kendo practice, he met Issei Ryuudou. The student council president— despite being only a first-year in junior high— was sitting in a corner of the dojo, reading an ethics book with a concentration that seemed impervious to the chaos around him. Shirou approached, drawn by the oddity of seeing someone so serene amidst the din of shinai.
— The noise distracts you, right?— Shirou asked, sitting down beside him without ceremony.
Issei looked at him over the book, his dark eyes assessing him with a seriousness that would have been comical in someone less genuine.
— Emiya-kun. Yes, I prefer silence for contemplation. But discipline of the body is as important as that of the mind. Your... sister, insists I participate.
— She has a special talent for insisting,— Shirou admitted with a smile.
— Certainly,— Issei nodded, and for a moment, a corner of his mouth curved slightly.— I've heard you are her designated pupil. That is a great responsibility for a first-year.
— I like challenges,— Shirou shrugged, and then, out of pure curiosity, asked: — And you? Why are you student council president?
— Because someone must maintain order,— Issei replied, as if it were the most obvious truth in the world.— Chaos is the enemy of progress.
Thus began a conversation that lasted until the end of practice. Issei was rigid, sometimes dogmatic, but incredibly sincere. Shirou found he liked that honesty. There were no games, no hidden agendas. Just clear principles and an unshakable determination. It was... comforting.
On Wednesday, the universe decided to balance things out by introducing him to Shinji Matou.
It happened in the hallway, on the way to class. Shinji, with his impeccably ironed uniform and a smile that didn't reach his cold blue eyes, blocked his path, surrounded by a small entourage of admirers.
— Ah, you must be the famous Emiya,— said Shinji, looking him up and down with a mix of curiosity and disdain.— The kendo prodigy. I've heard even the fierce Fujimura-senpai holds you in high regard.
— I'm just a student— Shirou replied, his smile growing tense, different from the friendly smiles he gave everyone else. There was... something about Shinji that caused a feeling of anger, rage, and disgust without reason. That's why he avoided him every time he caught a glimpse of dark purple hair, or when someone mentioned the most popular and arrogant boy in the academy.
— Modest. I like it— Shinji smiled, but his eyes remained cold.— You should come to the archery club sometime. They say you have a good eye. Although, of course, with your... family history, I suppose weapons come naturally to you.
The comment was deliberate, a poisoned dart disguised as a compliment. Shirou noticed it but merely tilted his head.
— Perhaps someday. Excuse me, I'm late for class.
As he walked away, he felt Shinji's gaze fixed on his back like a dagger. It wasn't open hostility, but something subtler: a deep aversion, as if Shirou represented something Shinji instinctively despised.
But the most constant encounter, and the one that brought him the most conflicting feelings, was with Rin Tohsaka.
Every morning, without fail, their paths crossed at the school's main entrance. She arrived impeccable, with her backpack perfectly placed and an air of someone who had their entire day scheduled to the minute. He arrived, often a bit disheveled from running to avoid being late, or with his hair messy from the wind.
The first few days, they only exchanged silent nods. A mutual acknowledgment of their secret agreement. But on Thursday, Rin stopped.
— Emiya,— She said, her clear voice cutting through the morning bustle.— Don't be late on Saturday. I detest unpunctuality.
— I won't be late,— He promised, surprised she had spoken to him publicly.
— We'll see— was her only reply before turning and walking away with her elegant gait.
But it was enough. For Homurahara's gossips, it was pure fuel.
And Taiga, of course, was in the front row to fan the flames.
— Again! She talked to you again!— She sang that afternoon as they walked home.— And this time she started the conversation. This is serious, Shirou-chan! The Ice Princess Tohsaka doesn't talk to anyone without a reason!
— She just reminded me about our lesson,— Shirou said, trying to sound casual.
— A lesson! Right! A "lesson"!— Taiga gave him an elbow nudge, her eyes sparkling with mischief.— And what lesson is that, huh? A love lesson? A lesson on how to steal the heart of the cutest boy in junior high?
Shirou choked on his own saliva, blushing at the phrase "love lesson." It brought back memories of certain dreams— or perhaps visions he only had while asleep— where he could see the adult Rin looking at him with affectionate eyes.
The problem? She was lying on a bed! And half-naked!
Because of these strange dreams, he woke up every morning biting his nails, wondering if in any of those possible futures from his visions, he and Rin were something more than allies...
— Taiga-nee, please...
— Oh, don't play shy now!— Taiga wrapped an arm around his shoulders, dragging him into a forced hug.— It's progress! First greetings, then words... soon it'll be walking home together! And then... marriage! I can see it!
Shirou sighed, resigned to his fate. Taiga had decided there was a love story brewing, and nothing would dissuade her. The curious thing was that, amidst the jokes, Shirou noticed Kiritsugu remained unusually quiet during these conversations. He just watched, his dark eyes assessing, calculating. He didn't openly disapprove, but the shadow of his warning hung in the air: 'Be careful with her.'
Friday passed in a blur. Shirou attended classes, trained in kendo until his muscles burned, and at night, while watching the stars from his window, he felt the week compress into a single moment of anticipation.
Time, he discovered, had the peculiar quality of stretching and contracting depending on what one anticipated. The school days, with their routines and small discoveries, had flown by. But the hours between Friday night and Saturday morning seemed to drag with an exquisite and agonizing slowness.
Finally, Saturday dawned.