Rest of April
By the end of April, the double life had become second nature. Schoolwork, casual conversations, and the occasional dinner with Fuji-nee by day; the Steel-Eyed Raven by night. I didn't choose the name — the streets did. It started as a whisper, a rumor passed between lowlifes in smoke-filled bars. "Steel eyes, like a bird of prey," one thug muttered to another, thinking I couldn't hear. I made sure he didn't get the chance to repeat it to anyone else, but the name stuck anyway.
The police bounty was almost laughable — 20,000 yen for information leading to my capture. It was pocket change, but the intent was clear: they wanted the public to see me as a threat. The irony was that the bounty only made me more of a ghost story. Criminals spoke of me in hushed tones, and the smarter ones stayed off the streets entirely. The fallout from the Dragon gang's annihilation had put the fear of God into them.
That made my work harder. Fewer crimes meant fewer opportunities to sharpen my skills. But I wasn't about to let the quiet slow me down. One night, I decided to go straight to the source.
The police station was quiet, the hum of fluorescent lights filling the empty halls. I slipped inside through a side window, my circuits humming softly as I reinforced my senses. The records room was a treasure trove — thick folders stuffed with names, addresses, and mugshots. I traced them all, committing every detail to my Reality Marble. Now I had my own personal database of Fuyuki's worst.
From there, I made my way to the armory. The heavy steel door was locked, but Alteration made short work of it. Inside, the smell of gun oil and cold metal hit me. Racks of firearms, crates of ammunition, riot gear — some of it looked like it hadn't been touched since the Fourth Grail War. I traced everything worth having, feeling the weight of each weapon in my hands before letting it dissolve into memory. When I left, the station was none the wiser.
May
May was about refinement. My nightly patrols continued, but I spent more time experimenting with magecraft. Alteration had always been a tool for subtlety, but I wanted speed and fluidity — the ability to reshape weapons mid-fight without breaking stride. I also pushed Reinforcement further, testing if I could channel it into a burst of raw power — a mana burst. The first attempts were clumsy, the energy flaring too fast, but each night I got closer.
On the mundane side, I finally bought a bed. My back thanked me immediately. Fuji-nee, of course, had to comment.
"You know," she said over breakfast, "you could've just asked my family for one. We've got spares."
I shrugged. "I'll keep that in mind next time."
She narrowed her eyes. "You're too independent for your own good, Shirou."
Maybe she was right. But I wasn't about to explain that the bed was just another piece of my self-sufficiency — a reminder that I could take care of myself, no matter what.
My relationship with Sakura deepened that month. We spent more time together outside of school, walking home, talking about the future. She'd ask me about my plans, and I'd give vague answers about "wanting to help people" or "finding my own path." When I asked about her dreams, though, her eyes would dim, her voice softening.
"I… haven't really thought about it," she'd say, forcing a small smile.
I could see the truth in her expression — the way she avoided my gaze, the way her hands fidgeted. It only strengthened my resolve. After my fight with CG EMIYA, I'd save her even sooner if I had to. No matter what it took.
The breakthrough came late one night. I projected a pair of knives, their weight familiar in my hands. On a whim, I willed them to change. The steel rippled, folding in on itself, reshaping into solid knuckle dusters. I flexed my fingers, feeling the reinforced weight settle over my hands. With another thought, I extended the metal back into blades, then flattened them into armor plates covering the backs of my hands. This was it — the fluidity I'd been chasing.
June
By June, I was ready to give the Steel-Eyed Raven a proper identity. I started crafting my own costume — not just for style, but for function. The process was slow, uncharted territory for me, but I approached it like any other project: methodically.
The armored footwear came first. I removed the heels, keeping them flat for better balance, and altered the soles with acoustic foam to muffle my steps. The armored sections were a mix of iron and bulletproof materials, altered to be lighter without losing strength. The combat pants were made from altered kevlar, bulletproof glass, and leather. The Fujimura family supplied the materials, and Raiga — ever the sharp observer — probably guessed what they were for. If he knew, he didn't say.
Integrating the new gear into my nightly activities was a game-changer. I could block blades with my legs, creating openings without wasting mana on reinforcing my clothes. The success pushed me to tackle the chest piece next. Using steel, iron, kevlar, twaron, and nylon, I recreated Archer EMIYA's chest armor. Lightweight, bulletproof, knife-proof — it freed up my magical energy for offense.
July
July brought the dreaded exam season. I wasn't looking forward to it, but I'd been keeping up with my studies enough to manage. What I didn't expect was the new kind of challenge that found me.
It started with a freelancer — a magus, clearly, sent to identify and eliminate me for my blatant use of magic in front of civilians. I spotted him tailing me one night and decided to turn the tables. The fight was quick. When I analyzed his body afterward, I found a ring for hypnosis. No protections on it. I traced it immediately and slipped it on.
That must have set off a chain reaction, because after that, freelancers started showing up regularly — three nights a week, on average. Each one was different: some subtle, some aggressive, all dangerous. They were experienced in identification and assassination, and a few came close to ending me. But each fight honed my perception, my situational awareness. I learned to read the air, to sense the shift in intent before an attack came. For that, I gave them quick deaths.
Their gear became mine. Guns, blades, mystic codes — I traced them all, building an arsenal that would serve me well after the Grail War. Each item was a trophy, a reminder of the fight it came from. I even bought a freeze storage, keeping their bodies just in case I ever need them as materials or something else.
When exams ended, I passed. Barely in some subjects, comfortably in others. It didn't matter. What mattered was that I'd survived another month — stronger, sharper, and more prepared than before.
August
Summer began with a restlessness I couldn't ignore. I'd been operating in Fuyuki for months, but the city was starting to feel too small. Before I left, I booked a hotel room downtown and spent three straight nights methodically dismantling what was left of the city's criminal element — everyone except the Fujimura family. By the end of the third night, the streets were eerily quiet. The freelancers who'd been testing me had either learned their lesson or were dead; only the arrogant or the truly skilled still came looking.
When I finally stumbled back to my room, I slept for an entire day. The next morning, I returned home long enough to book a flight to the Middle East — somewhere I knew I could find real action. Fuji-nee and Sakura were both upset when I told them. Sakura's eyes lingered on me longer than usual, and I could see the unspoken fear there. I promised them letters whenever I could, and that I'd be back before the month was over.
The flight to Dubai was ten hours. I spent it in my own head, image training — replaying fights with freelancers, imagining new counters, even sparring with Kiritsugu in my mind using the experience I'd absorbed from tracing his weapons. In my mind's eye, it was a battle that eclipsed his fight with Kirei, and I won every time. When the plane touched down, I was grinning.
After a night in a hotel, I rented a car and drove ten hours to Madripoor. My physique — honed by months of vigilante work — made me look older than I was, and the rental clerk didn't question me. In Madripoor, I altered my hair and eye color before checking into an expensive hotel for two weeks. I intended to make that money back quickly.
The concierge didn't blink when I asked for work. He slid me a slip of paper with a location and a time. That night, I walked into a building buzzing with freelancers. A bounty board dominated one wall, plastered with contracts ranging from assassinations to rescues. I picked my first job and didn't look back.
For two weeks, I was a machine. Every mission completed. Every target down. My name — the Steel-Eyed Raven — spread fast. I fought magi with strange and dangerous magecraft, each battle sharpening my instincts and bolstering my magic resistance. I even met a mystic code creator and paid him well to add magical and physical resistance to my armor. I made a mental note to find him again someday.
By the end of my stay, I'd cemented my reputation as Madripoor's top bounty hunter. If I died tomorrow, I might be summoned as an Assassin-class Servant on that merit alone. I wired my earnings to an account Raiga Fujimura had set up for me back in Japan.
The last two weeks of August were spent in Tokyo. I enjoyed the city, took in the sights, and quietly dismantled its criminal underworld. I raided emptied gang bases, filling duffel bags with cash and tracing every weapon worth keeping. When I left, I made sure the Steel-Eyed Raven's name would linger.
September
Homecoming was warmer than I expected. Sakura and Fuji-nee greeted me with smiles, and for a moment, I let myself relax. Sakura was closer to me now, but I kept my feelings firmly in the realm of sibling affection. Anything else could push her toward a Heaven's Feel I wasn't ready for.
School started on the 10th, and I put my night work on hold to focus on magecraft. My goal was clear: manifest my Reality Marble. I also kept working on mana burst, though my results were inconsistent. A gym membership helped me build my natural strength, making my Reinforcement more effective.
I practiced day and night, mastering Alteration until it was second nature. I paced myself, never pushing so hard that I risked stunting my natural growth. The highlight came late in the month: a crude, inefficient mana burst that burned through prana like a bonfire, but it worked. I was elated.
October
The museum was a treasure trove. I traced the weapons of Sakamoto Ryoma, the great spear Tonbokiri, Miyamoto Iori, Yagyuu Munenori, Sasaki Kojirou — and learned of Senji Muramasa. Each Noble Phantasm became part of my Reality Marble, along with the knowledge to perform Tsubame Gaeshi.
If Shirou Emiya could use Nine Lives Blade Works to strike Heracles eight times, I could master this. I just needed the body to match the technique.
I also visited Ryuudou Temple and felt the leyline beneath it. At night, I drew the array from my shed in chalk and covered it with an altered mat that would cling to the floor. It was my new training ground.
November
I ran into Tohsaka in the hall one day. She looked stressed — probably from the chaos I'd caused in August. I felt a flicker of guilt, but it was outweighed by the growth I'd gained from that trip.
On impulse, I decided to cook for her. She was skeptical when I offered the lunchbox, but the memory of me beating Shinji into the ground must have swayed her. She accepted, and by the end of the meal, she was hooked. She insisted on paying — pride wouldn't let her take it for free — and soon we were sharing lunch breaks regularly.
We never revealed everything about ourselves; that would come during the war. But we talked. She noticed my change since February, and I teased her about stalking me. She reacted exactly like a tsundere would, which made me smirk. When I told her I'd "gotten therapy" after surviving the Fuyuki fire, the mood shifted. She opened up about losing her father and caring for her comatose mother. We bonded over the scars the last war had left on us.
December
Most of December was spent at Ryuudou Temple, using the array to absorb mana and refine my mana burst. On the 17th, I finally executed a proper one. I was so thrilled I did it twice more before the mana ran dry. Testing my full power, I managed two bursts: the first cracked the ground and hurled me ten meters in an instant; the second was subtler but still carried me five meters in a blink.
The strain was real — my circuits ached, and my body protested the sudden accelerations. But after a day's rest, I was back at it, training nightly for twelve days until my efficiency improved.
On December 30th, I tried something new: projecting a sword and turning it into an arrow. I took Sasaki's blade, reinforced it to fell a tree, then altered the logs into Archer's bow. A nameless sword from the museum became my arrow. I poured mana into it, drew, and loosed.
The arrow soared a kilometer into the night sky before exploding with a thunderous bang. The blast radius would have taken out ten people easily.
I lowered the bow, a grin spreading across my face. "Oh yeah," I murmured to the empty night. "I'm a badass."