Chapter 91 - My SI Stash #91 - Fate - Stay - Write - Go! by shadenight123 (Fate/stay night) (1/2)

-SI Fate/stay night fic for AbsoluteFrostZero~~ Another shadenight123 fic, prepare for an adventure!

*SI as the second survivor of the Great Fire and Shiro Emiya's brother (Shiro Genderbent)

Sypnosis: ???

Rated: M

Words: 340K

Posted on: forums.sufficientvelocity.com/threads/fate-stay-write-go-fate-stay-night-au-si.19663/page-2#post-3823729 (shadenight123)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 0-2 (exceptional)

The fire was hot. I admit, considering that single thought the apex of all thoughts on obviousness, Captain Obvious would probably name me his trustworthy sidekick 'S arcastic Statement'. I didn't really think about that though, because all things said, fire was hot, and I was in that devastating heat trudging along on tiny, child-like limbs. One moment I was crossing the road, and the next second I avoided a falling building's debris that came crashing down a few steps away from me, lifting me off the ground and sending me to crash against a molten slab of iron that was scorching hot to the touch.

My fingers clutched the dirt, and my clothes were smoking. Dirty looking crimson blood slowly slithered across, pulsing with the energy of a thousand and more curses, lingering on the earth with the d_e_s_i_r_e to consume.

I had to get away.

Charred husks with burning appendages screamed their last across shattered streets and melted stone, and my eyes averted their gaze from the grisly spectacle immediately, switching to the most amazing vision of my feet taking step after step away from the carnage.

The screams were ignored. Everything that was not my feet was ignored. It was erased from existence. It was denied by my mind.

I just wanted to survive. I would have been fine with surviving, not even living. I would have happily agreed to a life of pain, just as long as it meant I'd still live at the end of the day. The screams finally died out, or maybe my ears grew so accustomed to them that I could no longer hear the sound of the dying -the dead do not scream after all, they are always silent.

In the end, it was only selfishness. I d_e_s_i_r_ed to live, I wanted to live, I demanded to live and, in the end, I lived.

Even if just for one more step, even if just for one more quick breath, one more heartbeat, one more blinking of tired eyes with a blurred vision -my glasses had broken, and I couldn't see much on my left- I still hung on to that tiny filament of life that refused to whimper out in the night.

”Y-You're alive,” my ears picked up a voice, a throaty, clearly male voice. I would have liked it if such a voice had been directed at me. It would have meant that I could finally fall down on the ground and let the owner of the voice pick me up and carry me away. Unfortunately, it wasn't directed at me. I had to walk a few more steps, grit my teeth through the haze, and finally turn a corner where I saw a dark-haired man clutch a kid to his c_h_e_s_t, crying tears of relief.

”S...” I hissed out, my throat half-cracked. I took a step, and the man heard -even among the crackling flames- and he looked up and actually gasped once more in relief. ”Sh...” I could only hiss.

Then, I fell down face first.

I could finally rest.

AN: We're going to have so much fun.

Chapter 1

”Wake up.”

I groan.

”Wake. Up.”

The voice insists, and in its insistence, I can feel the tone start to move and shift. I turn around, and keep my eyes closed. There is a loud sigh, a calm walking out with the sliding of the door, and an even calmer return.

”You will be late if you don't wake up now.”

I yawn and blink away the tiredness, a half-amused smile on my face. The figure in front of me is shaking from ill-contained nervousness at the sheer thought of being late, which is a nice positive plus in my head.

Emiya Shiro was already wearing the school's uniform, the skirt covering her legs all the way to the knees. She was on the verge of tears -tears of frustration, of course, but tears all the same.

”Go on ahead,” I mumbled, ”I'll swing by in the second period.”

”You're never going to graduate if you keep this up,” Shiro said. ”I left you breakfast on the table -remember to put the dishes in the sink!” and then she hurried off.

When I was just a little boy, I thought that arriving punctual was the key to success, to making a good impression, and was also quite the polite thing to do. This all changed the day the Fire Nation attacked. More like, it all changed the day the Fire attacked and burned everything in the city, killing off everyone but Shiro and I.

One might suspect it already, but let me clear up the misunderstanding immediately. I am not called 'Kuro', nor 'Hikage'. I actually have a very normal name. Even though my 'sister' is called Shiro -and not Shirou- which means 'White', but also 'Castle' -and she makes it a point of clearing up the misunderstanding herself- I have the name Kagayaku.

It is a terrible name when you consider that my 'sister' had the meaning of 'White' if you squint your eyes well enough. My name can mean a lot of things -as if common for Japanese people and their silly tongue. 'Shine', 'Twinkle', 'Burn', are the meanings I remember. I have had my fair share of trouble at school being called the 'Brilliance' of the 'White Brilliant Duo'.

Shiro is a good girl, honest, hardworking, the apple in the eye of her club.

I am the brains. Well, I do have the unfair advantage of having had an a_d_u_l_t life before, which means that no matter how serious the curriculum is, it's only about stuff I've already done, and can easily recall or study with relative ease.

Not so for Japanese literature, but again, it's Japanese literature. I like literature. The moment I learned how to read and write in the tongue, it was done. I could no longer be held back. I emerged like a brilliant butterfly out of the cocoon and shone- yes, yes, that's the problem with my name. I've heard all of these and worst.

You just don't know how many puns there are on the meaning of your name until, well, you end up with a name that bears itself to the very nature of puns.

I sat down groggily at the kitchen table. I would never understand, nor wish to, the nature of Japanese breakfasts. Why do you need to wake up at six to start cooking food, to have a breakfast ready at seven and a home-made boxed lunch for midday?

”Where have all the good coffee cups gone, and where are all the gods of breakfast known as 'croissants'? Where's the sweet, sweet coffee, to face the rising odds? Isn't there a god-blessed drink, within a fiery pot?” I hummed as I used my fingers to grip a piece of sticky rice, dip it in the sauce, and eat it while I secretly looked around to ensure Shiro was out and about.

Apparently, a young, growing man should not drink coffee.

I knelt and opened the sink, pushing aside the cardboard boxes to reveal my glorious coffee pot, and my shining, brilliant stash of coffee. With the expertise of decades, I prepared myself a pot and finished eating the breakfast, before grabbing the cup filled to the brim with the holy substance, and hiding back everything else, so as to preserve it for the next morning.

I exhaled in relief as I drank, watching the peaceful morning go by, the clouds lazily drifting in the sky, and the sun rising up. I had no d_e_s_i_r_e to waste time in school. Kiritsugu had left some money before his death, and both Shiro and I worked part-time -and Fujimura Taiga was our 'guardian', and somehow that meant cheap prices in the market due to the Taiga group controlling the area.

Although, as the proverb goes 'He who has the job he loves, works not a single day of his life'.

The phone rang, and I allowed it to ring. I knew this was Taiga, phoning to warn me -and threaten me, and scream at me in her usual, worried tone about my future, and head-lock me, and beat my a_s_s in kendo, and so on and so on- that I was going to be late for the second period too if I didn't move.

I had no intention of going to school, but I couldn't ditch it either.

Seriously, get a teenager out in the streets of Italy during school, and not a policeman will say a word to him. Get a single Japanese student out during school hours, and you'll have to run away from a pursuing patrol. I understand that education is a serious thing, but playing hooky shouldn't be treated as if you're an escapee from Alcatraz.

So I had to stay indoors, which suited me just fine.

I had shouldered the wish of a dying man in the place of Shiro. I had taken care of the pain, and the despair, and I had consoled the inconsolable, swearing salvation where I had no right to. I did not promise it lightly, nor did I lie lightly. It was my way.

It was similar to Shirou's way of being a Hero of Justice, no matter the cost to himself. A lie said for a good cause was worth more than a hundred evil truths. And while lies could turn into reality with enough hard work, the opposite was not true.

I did not allow him to lie to me, nor did I allow him to sabotage my knowledge in magecraft. It was obvious he wondered why I knew. Obvious again was the lie that I would do the same in his place, but that would be folly. He accepted it, because he knew the truth would be hard to pry from me, and he had no intention of wasting time.

And if it gave him misery to teach another his skills, then it fulfilled the curse cast on him. He did die, because that was impossible to deny, but he died later, he died better off, he died despairing, but his despair tied to having given his knowledge to someone that should have had to bear it. He died thinking he had given his knowledge to an innocent child, too young to know everything there was of evil about the world.

I taught Shiro the skills she was supposed to have -because she asked, because I would not deny her the role she had, because I knew that in the end, I could control little of a battlefield that was ever-changing.

I prepared, and waited. Shiro was a good girl, a good student, and had a bright future ahead of her.

I had no such compulsions, and no such d_e_s_i_r_es. I was selfish, and uncaring of most. I cared little, and what little I had could be snuffed out with ease. I had shouldered the sins, and harbored the pain. It was now the time to return it a hundredfold.

The Holy Grail War was about to start again. Soon, the servants would be summoned. I had to wait -to ensure Saber, to ensure the right servant, the right situation, the right character and the right decisions. I could not risk it. My nature was not Shirou's, nor was it Shiro. With my luck, it could be a Caster, or a Berserker, or worst of all, Avenger.

I could not risk it. I would not risk it.

Thus, I waited.

I waited for the sun to glow orange, and the packages to arrive, and I hoped that Taiga would not ask her grandfather why his men had new weapons in place of old, or where the old ones had gone.

I had not trained a lifetime, and I was no Spellcaster worthy of notice. I needed glasses to see, and my shots were average at best.

I had knowledge though, and if one knew himself, and his enemy, then he could win all battles.

I sighed as I heard the tell-tale sound of a bike's brakes, a very familiar sound. ”I know you're in here!” Taiga exclaimed, as she barged right into my workshop, sliding the door open. She looked at me, her expression hard and stricken with worry, and then she looked at what I held in my hands.

It was a Walther WA Two-Thousand, Kiritsugu's weapon. It was a 'fake' weapon -that was what Taiga thought, and I did not correct her when she said that it looked so real it clearly had to be false.

”I told you a hundred times! School's important!” Taiga huffed, both hands to her sides. ”You'll make Shiro worry, you stupid brother!”

I raised an eyebrow. ”I can always be your househusband when I grow up,” I replied.

Taiga bristled. ”Are you saying I can't get married and will have to marry you out of pity when you're legal, you pipsqueak?”

It was the usual. I placed the weapon down after disassembling it -assemble, disassemble, assemble, disassemble. Do it in less than five minutes. Do it with your eyes closed. Do it. There is no try.

”Why not? You are probably looking at cats and giving them the names of your future children already.”

”I am most definitely not,” Taiga said, eyes narrow. ”You've been cooped here all day?” she asked, entering the workshop and looking around. I kept the place ordered and pristine, if beneath a fake facade of chaos. Well, not really 'fake' per se, but 'fake' enough to make it look -at a first look- disorganized.

There was order within the chaos. It was, admittedly, my brand of order.

”Well?” Taiga asked, as I finished cleaning up. ”All day in here?”

”I made a break for lunch,” I replied. ”Shiro will be home late today. She has club activities.”

”You resemble Kiritsugu so much,” Taiga murmured, ”and that is why I'm here. We need to have a bit of life counseling.”

”I'm not very good as a marriage adviser, Taiga,” I replied, earning myself a glare from her. I should have said 'Big Sister Taiga', but even now, it was hard to use the proper attachments. They were a key to prove one's respect for another, and belonged to a hierarchy and a social stratification of a society that should have by now long modernized into one of hidden truths and bold lies.

You don't need to add the '-san' to be polite to an older person. That is because even if you add the '-san' and think ill of the person, you are scorning her even though you are grammatically polite to her. Better to be blunt, and let the tone decide whether you are polite or not, rather than a constructed word to outright state a bold lie.

Shamelessly using words like that, thinking they have any value when in fact they have none, it's something despicable, and hypocrite.

”This concerns you, and your future,” Taiga said. ”You have to think about it now, or it will be too late.”

I already had. I had but one future ahead of me, one that could belong only to someone like me. A false human born of lies.

So I gave my answer, as kindly as I could. ”I want to make Shiro happy.”

So I gave my answer, as politely as I could. ”I want to become an English teacher, just like you.”

So I gave my answer, with a bit of pride in it. ”I want to make Kiritsugu proud.”

It was just another lie. One that could become truth, or could remain a lie.

It was my life after all. I had lied on my age, my name, my nationality, my existence and everything else. I had lied because I was not of this world, so anything I was, anything I appeared as, that was my lie. It was a lie built for the purpose of becoming a truth, but at the moment, it was still a lie.

The best stories were nothing short than lies that could turn things impossible to believe in real, and was that not the definition of a lie? To make others believe in things that were not real?

Chapter 2

I was not a bad cook, but Shiro was better. Shiro was better at a lot of things, and really, should have received all the praise in the world. Whereas I had natural talent and a lie to bolster my strengths, she had nothing but hard work, and a d_e_s_i_r_e to improve and thrive even in the ugliest of situations.

I might have learned how to work at a counter in less time than Shiro, but Shiro had kept practicing until her work had become perfect and flawless, while mine had always been 'good', but never 'excellent'. I saw no reason to strive for it. It was a job, and it was a job done well enough to be considered good.

Was there any purpose in doing it even better? Anything beyond a gratification that would soon pass and disappear, becoming 'obvious' and 'the average' with enough time?

Excellency is a one-time thing, in my opinion. You can keep striving to be excellent, but failures will bring forth scorn and despising remarks. Being average with ease, without having to work hard for it, will give you a buffer zone to show off your excellency in case of praises, and as one-time things, they will allow you to always be considered the best, even when by all circ_u_mstances, you should not be.

My line of thought was not apparently the one Taiga liked. ”Just because it's easy for you, doesn't mean you shouldn't improve it. Right now, I am sure I have more knowledge of the English language than you. The grammar, the structure, you need to be able to know that to teach it to kids.”

”Just because it was hard for you,” I replied. ”Doesn't mean it has to be the same for me.”

”That is not what I meant,” Taiga said. ”Man, when Shiro's home she worries about you, and when she isn't, I can't even get a word in.”

”My sister worries too much,” I admitted with a nod. ”How is she doing?”

”As her guardian, I couldn't be prouder,” Taiga said. She took a sip of hot tea, and then waited, her eyes settled on me. ”But she is not the only one Kiritsugu entrusted to me.”

I grimaced as I took a sip of my tea. Taiga had green tea, and I had Earl Grey. I could not stand the bitterness of Japanese tea, and the moment I found a store that sold it, I hid a stash of it in the house. 'Tea' was acceptable, while 'Coffee' was not. Another prejudice I had no power to destroy.