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Anomaly Ch. 4
🕑 Added 2022-11-25 09:52:56 +0000 UTC“...Ah.”
Shirou really was forgetting something.
“Do you have any - any - idea how much work you’ve just shoved down the drain? Not hours. Not days. Not even years. Decades. Over two centuries of Tohsaka spellcraft scrubbed clean from this world just because you decided to blow the hell out of -”
Shirou now stood in front of the Tohsaka manor, it, to the mundane, looking no worse for wear despite the bombings in the city. To those in the know, they could see that the protections around the home, the ones that the previous Tohsaka heads had put on the home, were all gone.
Three generations of Magecraft. Gone. To magi, it was sacrilege. And he’d just inadvertently done it to Rin in his haste to help Sakura.
Shirou shook his head, both to clear it, and to assure himself that he’d done the right thing.
He would normally tune Rin out, similar to how he would usually tune out her and Luvia whenever the two would argue about whatever mundane thing, before they’d settle it in some not-so-mundane method that usually involved some degree of property damage.
Instead, he cut her off, the seriousness in his voice stopping any argument that she may have put up.
“Sakura. How is she?”
Rin stared at him for a moment, before sighing in frustration, hands going to the bridge of her nose, “Other than being dropped naked in front of me? She’s fine. Honestly, do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“I know she’s your sister, Rin. You don’t have to pretend she’s not.”
“She’s not. She’s a Matou, and you may as well have declared war on their entire family for kidnapping their heir.”
“That’s exactly why I needed to get her out of there.”
Rin narrowed her, before Shirou threw the book that he’d received from Zelretch, “You can skip until around half-way through. You’ll see what I’m talking about.” Rin frowned as she felt the mana around the book.
“This book. You got it from the Wizard Marshal?” A nod in response. Shirou could see the gears in her head turn, and when her shoulders set, he knew that she wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation to read it.
“Down the hall, in the guest bedroom.”
“Thanks.”
Shirou left Rin to read in silence, thankful that she wasn’t that pissed.
…
The soft footfalls echoed throughout the manor as Shirou steadily made his way to Sakura’s room. His thoughts were muddled on what he would say, what he could say to her. None of them were ever enough.
All too soon, he was in front of her door. He let out a shuddering breath as guilt ate at him once again. All he had to do was turn the knob, and he’d see her.
He held that knob for a good three minutes, before finally entering the room.
Sakura was asleep.
Shirou let out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding. He wouldn’t have to talk to her this time. He’d have time. He walked towards the sleeping woman, and now that he could look at her properly and not in the heat of the battle, he could see the various bruises on her wrists. The sunken eyes. The thinner-than-normal frame.
Rin may have dressed her decently in one of her old dresses, but that still couldn’t hide all the abuse that Sakura had been through.
“I’m sorry.” The words came tumbling out, “If…if I’d known I would’ve-” Would have what? Gotten the both of them killed? He’d read the damn book. He knew now how strong Zouken was, how practically immortal he was.
Had he known all of that when he was younger, this version of himself and not the one that gotten Archer’s arm, then it was likely that he’d just run right into the thick of it with no plan whatsoever.
No, as bitter a pill it was to swallow, it was better to have not learned about everything he knew now when he was younger. He held Sakura’s hand.
He just never wanted it to be someone as undeserving as her.
The door to the room burst open, as a furious Rin barged inside, “Move aside, I need to check her.” Shirou immediately did so. There was no trying to talk back to an angry Rin.
He could see lines of circuits glow as Rin performed what he knew to be a diagnostic spell. He could see her bite back the urge to scream in frustration, years of working with her letting him know that she wanted to talk to him outside with just a look.
Both of them exited the room, Shirou giving one last glance at Sakura’s prone figure. Immediately, Rin whirled on him, “Liver’s damaged, her left kidney’s on its way, evidence of internal bleeding, and most certainly more that I couldn’t see. Whatever the fuck’s Zouken been doing to her, its killing her. It’s a miracle that she’s still alive right now.”
“Can you help her?” The desperation was not something he would hide, not now. Rin grimaced once more.
“Her organs are beyond repair - we’d need a transplant done, and that’s something even I’m not prepared for. We need to get her to an actual hospital.” The book, held tightly in her hand, was lifted up next to her head, “But more importantly, there was something I didn’t find.” She threw the book at him.
“Crest worms.”
…
Shirou made his way towards the hospital, where he could see a significant number of JSDF personnel were stationed. No doubt as a response to the bombings in the city. What surprised him, however, was seeing people he could recognize as part of the Fujimura group milling around the same place.
Both parties looked to be avoiding one another, and in one case, one Fujimaru yakuza actively glaring at the Defense Force.
He expected Old Man Raiga to be prepared in case something happened in his territory, but never to the extent where he could see the numbers patrolling the streets. Nor could he have expected them to be on at least don’t-shoot-each-other terms with the JSDF.
As he approached, he was evidently seen by one of the Fujimura, who waved at him to come closer.
“Emiya! Been a while, hasn’t it boy?” Shirou recognized the man as a member whose bike he’d routinely fixed when he was still living in Fuyuki all those years ago.
“Ichinose-san,” Shirou smiled at him, “Ah, pardon me, but I need to go see someone in the hospital.”
“Ah, I think I know who you’re talking about. C’mon, I’ll show you the way.” Ichinose was a burly, bald headed yakuza, lined with scars all over his face. To many civilians, he would be an intimidating sight.
To Shirou, he was just a big softie that got all those scars working on a farm, before moving to the city with his wife and children.
As they made their way inside the hospital, Shirou couldn’t help but notice the tense atmosphere. There were doctors and nurses going back and forth, but their steps were just a bit too hurried, and their voices were just a bit too quiet.
He felt a twinge of shame, knowing that this was probably caused by his actions.
“So, Emiya,” Thankfully, the suffocating muteness of the room was disturbed by the man beside him, “That whole magic thing.” Shirou should’ve expected this. As much as Ichinose acted like it didn’t matter to him, the idea of magic and magecraft sparked too much curiosity in most people.
“You been doing that since you were a kid?”
“Yeah.” There was really nothing more to say than that.
“Then all those times fixing our bikes, that was you doing your magic?”
“Magecraft, but yes.”
The laughter that came from the burly yakuza momentarily surprised Shirou, but the hand on his shoulder and the grin on Ichinose’s face trumped even that, “Well I’ll be! No wonder the local shop couldn’t do what you could - we’ve got a damn magician fixing our bikes!”
Shirou didn’t bother correcting him, knowing that the intricacies of terminology would only confuse anyone not involved with magecraft.
“Say, you think you can check up on our bikes before you leave?”
Shirou chuckled, memories of the past coming easily, “Sure, I’ll drop by the compound later. Pretty sure that Fuji-nee would kill me if I didn’t.”
“Well, here we are.” They finally stopped at a room, and the name on the door made it difficult to keep his anger in check, “Don’t know if he’s awake, the JSDF guys found him in pretty bad shape.”
“Thank you, Ichinose-san.” The yakuza could probably tell something was going on by the tone of his voice, but didn’t comment on it, thankfully. Instead, the man nodded at Shirou, before turning and leaving.
Once he was alone, Shirou once more looked at the name and clenched his fist.
Matou, Shinji.
…
The hospital room was sterilized and quiet, apart from the soft beeping of various hospital equipment. Shinji was hooked up to more devices than Shirou knew of from the top of his head. And probably needed them, too.
His entire body looked mangled. Various burns he could see poking through what little skin was exposed. An arm he knew was shattered from the way it was cast. Internal damage was probably even higher than what he could see.
He had to give props to the doctors - they worked fast. If they didn’t, then he’d likely be dead.
Still, one problem was that Shinji was fast asleep. He could solve that easily enough. Grabbing the other man’s shoulder, Shirou sent a pulse of mana. Immediately, the heart rate monitor spiked as Shinji was jolted awake.
“E-Emiya.” His voice was weak, feeble. As if he hadn’t just used it yesterday. Anger was palpable in his eyes, and more so the fear. The blue-haired man was right to feel so.
Shirou wanted nothing more than to pay him back for everything he’d done to Sakura.
But not yet. He needed to know where Zouken was, and the only lead he had was Shinji himself.
“Your grandfather. Where is he?” His voice was harsh, brokering no argument. Despite Shinji’s current condition, Shirou was determined to get what he needed.
Said man gulped, as he tried to sit up. Tried, being the keyword, as he immediately fell back coughing. It was obvious even to someone as historically oblivious as Shirou that the other man was in a lot of pain.
He couldn’t bring himself to care.
“What are you talking about?”
Shirou grabbed Shinji’s shoulders and shook him, already impatient, “Your grandfather, Zouken! Where the hell is he?” He threw the blue haired man back on the bed as he started coughing blood.
“I-I don’t know. I,” Shinji gasped in pain, “Haven’t seen him since yesterday.” Another gasp, “Not since you did that shit in Ginza.”
“You’re lying.” Shirou refused to believe that. He HAD to know - and he said so as much, “There’s no way that you don’t know. You’re the only person that can know.”
“I’m not lying!” The desperation seeped through his voice, and gave Shirou pause. He continued, voice stronger and more confident - surer - than before, “He hasn’t told me anything, not since seven years ago when that damn Archer made me turn into that thing.”
“Stop lying Matou! Tell me where Zouken is, now, or else.”
“Dammit Emiya, I am not lying!”
“Tell me one good damn reason why I should believe that. Tell me one good reason not to kill you right now, for everything you’ve done!”
“Freeze!” In the commotion, they had failed to notice that the door had been busted open, and a uniformed man now pointed a gun at Shirou. The magus didn’t pay him much attention. With how the gun was pointed, he meant to shoot at Shirou’s chest, which was protected quite well thanks to his body armor.
He could afford to ignore the man if it meant getting some needed answers.
“What are you on about Emiya?” There was a whispered “Emiya?” from the man that Shirou guessed was a JSDF soldier, “What I’ve done? You’re the one that broke into my home, believe it or not. I was minding my own damn business. I haven’t spoken to you in seven years, so frankly, I haven’t got a clue what I could have done.”
“You know what you damn well did. To Sakura.”
“No Emiya, I really don’t.” Shinji fell back as if he had used all of his remaining energy, “Just tell me already so that we can get this over with.”
Shirou grit his teeth as he fought to Trace something through the blue haired man’s head, “How much abuse did you pile onto your sister, Matou? Two decades worth, underneath both you and your damned grandfather? That ring any bells?”
It was here that Shinji seemed to somewhat understand what Shirou was going on about, “I see. Heh. Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. You always did have a hero complex, didn’t you?”
“Alright, I’ve heard enough.” The JSDF personnel, who still had a gun trained on Shirou, finally spoke up, “Matou-san, please get some rest. Emiya, put your hands up. You’re under arrest.”
The Enforcer couldn’t help but ignore him, words spilling out more and more as his anger started to get the better of him.
“Two decades of being put under those fucking worms. Two decades where she couldn’t even be human. Two decades of her own brother abusing her to hell and back.”
“I know.” Shinji looked to have lost all fight in him, as the whisper carried throughout the room, “I’ve spent a long time thinking about everything I’ve done. I’ve spent not long enough trying to make up for them.”
…
Anger for Shirou came in many forms. Righteous anger, for those that were exploited, those who were unfairly treated by the world. Methodical anger, directed at finding ways to make those that caused undue suffering his own brand of justice.
But one of the worst ones was the anger born from betrayal.
When those who you trusted turned out to be the worst person you’ve ever met. When they decide to throw out everything that made your friendship true and just stomped on that old trust like a bug beneath a boot.
That was the feeling that Shirou felt when he found out about Shinji.
A person, who, long ago, he’d considered a friend. A person who he’d have willingly died saving when he was younger.
A person who turned out to have been abusing his own sister, adopted or not. Sure, he’d known that Shinji had hit Sakura more than a few times, but he’d never had thought that it would go to the lengths that he did as he’d read in the book.
Just the thought of it made him sick.
But for all that Shinji had done, there was one thing that the Enforcer could be sure of.
That despite it all, is that Shinji Matou had, over the years, repented and tried to make amends. He’d talked to Fuji-nee in the past, and he had scarcely believed that the man was now actively volunteering in various places around the city.
Nor could he believe that Sakura and Shinji were now, as far as his surrogate sister could see, on sibling terms. Where in highschool, the both of them were distant, Shinji being more than a bit verbally abusive, now they looked to be closer than ever before.
He remembered smiling at the thought, that despite the events of the Fifth Holy Grail War being mentally scarring for everyone involved, that Shinji had become a better person for it.
Then Zelretch and that damned book of knowledge.
The details struck him with so much force that it threatened to break him in despair.
He’d, for a while, then thought that everything that the man had done after the War was just a farce. A way to get close enough to Sakura, and do something according to the will of Zouken. He’d come to the Matou household with that in mind, fully willing to kill Shinji for everything he’d done.
And now that Shirou saw the man, who now sported the countenance of a man who’d lost it all, he knew that he would have regretted that decision.
This Shinji Matou was not the same as the one from the book.
This one regretted his actions. This one felt remorse, and had the sincere desire to make it up to his sister. That’s why, when the bedridden man next spoke, Shirou believed him.
“...I haven’t really spoken to Grandfather - Zouken - much after the War.” Shinji himself looked like he’d aged years. Shirou couldn’t help but feel a twinge of shame.
”He just became…lost? Like a dementia patient lost. But last week…he started to talk more. I don’t know why, but when you did that thing at Ginza, he became more active than I’ve seen him in years. Then, you came in. That’s all I know, Emiya.”
“...Thanks, Shinji. And for what it’s worth,” Shirou turned around and walked, ignoring the sputtering of the still present soldier, “I’m sorry.”
Shinji barked out a laugh, followed by a coughing fit that shook his entire frame, “Don’t be. I deserve it for being such a fucking asshole.”
“Heh. Maybe.”
Shirou left the room a bit more lighthearted than before, knowing that the person he’d befriended all those years ago was a good person in the end, buried as he may have been under the weight of the Moonlit World.
“Hazama-san, was it?”
When they both exited the room, the soldier had holstered his pistol, not wanting to cause a panic, though with the way his arm twitched, Shirou had no doubts that he’d be pointing it at him again if he made a wrong move.
“Emiya. I have no idea what that was about, but you’re coming with me.”
“I would, sir, but I believe that we have much more pressing matters to deal with.”
“Such as?”
For starters, what Shinji had said was rather ominous. Zouken had become more active just before Ginza, which may have been a coincidence, if he wasn’t a three hundred year old Magus.
No, either Zouken had planned Ginza, or he knew something was going to happen. Whatever the case, it boded ill.
“Please set up a perimeter around the Matou home. As well as a full quarantine for anyone that’s been within a hundred meters of the property as of late.”
“Why the hell should I listen to you? You just threatened a hospital patient!”
“Because if you don’t, then I can’t guarantee that people won’t die.”
…
“...sius, with a low chance of rain in the evening. That’s all I’ve got, back to you.”
“Thank you for that, Yamamoto-san. Now, we’ve got a special guest with us today, to discuss the ongoing insect infestation that’s been going on in Tokyo lately. Please welcome…”
…
