'Those swords… They were magnificent!'
He ran like hell, heading far, faaaaar away from the battlefield, knowing full well he couldn't escape should they notice him but not risking staying and getting caught anyway. Regardless, he couldn't stop internally reeling at what his eye caught upon seeing their swords clash.
The magic, the magnanimity, the make of those weapons… Just the intense mythical energies he gleaned from a momentary glance had Shirou admiring the sheer power behind them. Servants were beyond mere mortals, and two of them fighting each other like that…?
'No, snap out of it! This shouldn't be possible!' Not this early nor this close to him when he wasn't even a participant. Yet they just showed up out of the blue and did battle on the school rooftop. His amazement at their weaponry clouded his mind for a moment, but Shirou knew that despite that, the situation was bad. Really bad. 'Gotta tell dad. Gotta get out of here. Right now!'
His father had forewarned about the next Holy Grail War to come in several decades. That the man saw it fit to prepare him for such an outcome so early on means that the man thought he would need it. And if Kiritsugu ever saw it fit to prepare for something ahead of time, then things were about to get drastic real fast.
'Something is wrong. I have to tell dad and—!'
Then what? Though his feet kicked hallway dust and pushed him to head for the front gate, his mind raced to the morbid possibilities he could assume would come. And the hopelessness had him stop before he even made it out the front door.
What can his old man do in a situation like this? Emiya Kiritsugu had no hope of winning against Servants, he said so himself. Not without his own at least. As for Shirou himself, this was out of his league. Way out. Impossible. He was hardly a spellcaster, let alone a potential magus. Shirou couldn't hope for his father to come from his trip and save him from this bad dream. The only one he could count was—
His head ached as the memory of the fires flashed before his eyes. They were gone a moment later, but the effect was palpable. Seizing up, he balled his fist as he rested it against the nearby pillar.
All he had was… himself.
His heartbeat quickened as the adrenaline pumping through his veins had him looking over his shoulder. In the opposite direction of where he came, down the halls leading to the adjacent building, the stairwell that led up to the intense clash of titans was there, waiting.
He… he can't die here! He… he needed to get out of the school and get home to… to…—
His mind raced, forcing his gaze to the front gate. Just past the shoe lockers was an escape from here. If he could just slip out, then he'd be free from their sights.
But he also knew that, if he could catch a glimpse of those weapons a bit more, he could… he could…
Replicate them… And find a way to save everyone… Wouldn't that be more helpful than just… fleeing with his tail between his legs?
Shirou didn't have a solid plan running. When in doubt, he was taught to retreat, get home safely to regroup with his father as soon as possible… but… If he could learn something helpful… use his power to trace those weapons… then maybe—!
He instinctively flinched when the air around him started to get heavy. There, standing between Shirou and the exit, a lone figure that wasn't there a second ago, was a man in blue.
In his hand, butt planted on the ground as a razor-sharp tip of a spear seemingly cutting the air itself glowed a wicked crimson.
Bloodred spear emanating an ominous aura wielded by a man in blue with a callous and somewhat bored expression… It didn't take Shirou two seconds to realize he was cornered by something not human. But seeing that it wasn't one of the two from the rooftop, that had all the hairs on his body standing.
'Not just two… but a third…' Sweat dripped down his brow as he cursed his luck through grit teeth.
"Well, well. What do we have here? What're you doing hanging around so late, schoolboy? Truant? Nah… you wouldn't be here if it was the case… Perhaps delinquent?"
Shirou tensed at being addressed. He knew he shouldn't do anything to egg the hunter on when he was a hapless prey. But upon seeing the bloodthirst in the man's eye, he warily drew his gaze to the red spear. Eerily, he could confidently say it felt more alive than many of the things he'd traced or studied before.
'That is definitely dangerous!' If alarm bells could ring in his head, they were on overdrive now. He had to get out of here, but how—?!
"What's wrong kid? Wet yourself or something?" The unknown man—no, the blue-clad Servant said with a playful tone as he kicked his spear and twirled it over his shoulders to relax yet blocked the entryway by his presence alone. "You look like you've seen death. Or maybe it's because you managed to get a peek at two other Servants having a go?" The spearman spoke cockily but also enviously. "Haaah… Speaking of them, I'm pissed that the first fight in this war wasn't mine. Though, I wouldn't mind getting second helpings if I manage to get the first Master kill. A step to winning this thing even if it's just stamping out small fry is still a win for us."
"Wait, you're making a mistake!" When the Servant in blue raised his red spear and pointed it at him, Shirou blurted out whatever to buy time or even get out of this situation. "I'm not a Master!"
"Hoh? Then what are you, brat? If you know about what a Master is, then you should be informed of what I am." The spearman didn't seem to care but entertained him with questions.
"You're a Servant, I can tell… But you're wrong about me. I'm no Master. Just a mere spellcaster! Third-rate magus at best." Shirou told the honest truth, appealing to the bored look in the man's eyes that he wasn't even worth the effort, hoping it would get him some leeway.
This was the phrase his father told him to say if he was ever unfortunate enough to run into magi. Kiritsugu said that there might be magi too arrogant and self-absorbed, deeming unimportant third-rates not worthy of their time. Of course, the probability of escape happening was still less than 1% when many don't even consider leaving witnesses, maybe closer to half that if they decided to make him into 'research material'. But a measly small percentage was better than zero…
Or so he assumed, but this was a SERVANT of all things!
Shirou didn't even attempt to humour the idea of fighting the one before him; it was pointless suicide. Only a real idiot would think he had a chance at—
"Yeah, Master. Kid says he isn't Master but is one of your people?" The Servant in blue stopped for a moment, bringing his spear tip down as he mumbled to someone listening but not present. Shirou realized it was something akin to telepathy magecraft. "Well, if he isn't one of yours, then can I—?"
"I'm a retainer of the Matou clan!" Shirou quickly muttered, not thinking about it properly. Both he and the Servant stared at each other in silence. Though the redhead couldn't believe what he just done, how dangerous as well as foolish it was to implicate his friends, using their name might as well have been his last lifeline.
He could never do something like risk their lives, but… but…
He couldn't die here…. Not like this! Not when he needed to make up for his life and save others. Illya said so.
"Eh… you don't want me to kill him?" It took Shirou a while to realize the Servant was complaining to whoever he was chatting with. "You'd let a witness go just like that? So much for secrecy… I got it, I got it… Feh… No challenge in murdering some kid anyway… Yeah, shut it shortie. I remember what I said. I was just playing around to scare him shitless a little. That he's trembling like a lamb means he'll keep silent," the Servant raised his spear again, almost prodding the chest of Shirou's blazer. "Won't you, kid?"
It took his all not to break out into a run after nodding along. The spearman lowered his lance and Shirou was finally able to gulp some air. He felt his Adam's apple shrivelling as though a knife held it up.
"Yeah, yeah. I'll do the check. Ruin my fun from joining a real fight, why don't you…" Eventually, the Servant took a step away from him, relenting the murderous aura as he muttered dismissal at whoever was chatting to him through their connection. "You're lucky this time, brat. My Master says it isn't the best idea to kill people who belong to other clans. But she also says that I need to make sure you're legit clean. Show me the back of your hands. No seals on it and I let you go. Simple, yeah?"
Shirou allowed himself to breathe in, relaxing for a second. The Servant could be lying, but what was the point? Scaring him shitless even more? He already achieved that. Still, what choice did he have? None.
But… He should be fine. He didn't sense any hostility from the man in blue now. And whatever these 'seals' are, he sure as hell knew he didn't have any. Shirou raised the back of his hands and showed the man what he wanted…—
'Ngh! It… burns?!'
—… and as though the devil himself branded him out of spite, three red glowing marks appeared on his skin out of nowhere.
Shirou stared down at the marks.
The Servant stared at the marks.
The Servant's eyes then rose to Shirou's face.
In his infinitely unfortunate luck, Shirou instinctively flinched at the cocky smile he had on.
The red eyes were drilling holes in him. He was clearly not amused by what he perceived as a lie. Too bad, he didn't seem to be the type one could reason with.
"So, brat…" the spear tip was raised.
"W-wait! They weren't there moments ago—AGH!"
Before Shirou could clear out the situation, he was forcibly lifted off the ground by the grip on his collar. The ominous spear was just centimetres away from his heart.
"I offer three options." The Heroic Spirit unilaterally stated, no more joviality in his eyes. "First choice, order your Servant to kill themselves. Second, get your arm removed by me. Don't worry. I'll lop it off quickly. Or third, get skewered like a fish out of water. It's more painful, but I guarantee a sure death no matter where I stab. Which do you prefer?"
His amber eyes didn't falter, but Shirou knew he was deathly afraid. "I… I—!"
"I was joking, brat. You don't really get a choice in the matter. I'm just waiting for my Master to pick how I deal with you—…" He grimaced after flinching, as though someone was yelling at him through telepathy. "Hush it, shortie! I'm not bringing the kid to base." The man irritably scowled. "No, I don't care what you have in mind. He either dies now or forces his Servants to off themselves. But, he can always summon his Servant. I'm really itching for a fight after almost being played the fool…"
Shirou was definitively cursing his circumstances. Had he not hesitated, he might've escaped and avoided this entirely… but… he only had himself to blame.
In any case, the Servant kept mumbling to himself, egging his Master to force Shirou to summon a Servant, not that he had any, while a third person protested much to the man in blue's annoyance. Whoever they were on the other end, it was clear they wanted to avoid needless bloodshed. But the mark on the back of his hands sealed his fate, even if it was by stupid luck they appeared like this. Fate really didn't seem to want to throw him a bone.
Or perhaps it did as, not a second too soon, a thud in the distance drew not just Shirou's but the Servant's attention as well.
There, beyond the school gate, something big made its presence known. A giant silhouette, larger than any human Shirou had ever seen, lumbered through the entryway. Well, saying that was discourteous to the aftermath. The giant just walked past the gate, but his sheer mass crushed the metal grills like they were made of paper mâché underfoot.
"GAH!" he was discarded and thrown against the lockers as the Servant in blue stepped towards the newcomer.
"Stay there, brat. I'll deal with you after I'm done with that one." He gave Shirou a glance and the boy swore he saw the man's eagerness to fight amidst the threatening smirk. "I'm serious, kid. If you make more trouble for me by making me chase you down, I will hunt you like a hare."
He then leapt out of the front door as fast as the wind, crimson lance clashing against the giant slab of stone the giant wielded like a sword. It didn't take much for Shirou to realize that the giant was also a Heroic Spirit. Especially when it was holding its own against the swift spearman. But other than giving their weapons one more passing glance, there was no hesitation in what Shirou did next.
He booked it out of there like the world would end if he didn't make it home.
If the spearman was gonna hound him later, then might as well get a head start. If that giant of a man was to be his distraction, then by whatever god was out there, Shirou would not look a gift horse in the mouth.
Upon exiting out the backdoor, he ran behind the gym and leapt over the low part of the wall many truants Issei complained about used to cut class. He ran, far away from the battleground that was his school even as he felt his muscles burn and bones creak.
If he wanted to live for the sake of others, he had only one option: to survive this war. And by fate, he'd make sure to survive the night at least!
Yet, unbeknownst to him, far away from the battlefield that was the academy campus, a masked individual stood atop one of the skyscrapers, silently watching the first embers of the Grail War ignite.
Dark, almost empty, eyeholes of said black mask trained in the direction of where several Servants had unceremoniously gathered, of which four were currently engaged in combat.