Shirou kept running. Though already far from the school district and nearing his neighbourhood, he didn't stop moving his aching legs.
He'd given them the slip, or so he wanted to believe. Having ducked through alleyways, ditches, and even threw a river sewer drain that was under construction, he was certain he'd given any human pursuer the slip.
He wasn't scot-free, however. Not until he was back in his father's shed.
Shirou could never outrun a Servant if they gave chase, that much was true. He couldn't defend against them if they attacked, even at home. That was irrefutably true.
Then, what was he to do if one actually chased and hunted him down?
… … … He didn't know. Teeth grit, he has to admit that he's way in over his head to think he could survive an encounter. It was by his sheer dumb luck that the blue guy with a spear didn't hound after him, instead choosing to stay with the… the… well, Shirou didn't know what that giant muscled thing was! It didn't feel human—Hell, not even the spear that guy wielded felt normal. Not with how much power just sort of emanated from their being.
That and just looking at the slab of stone it used as a weapon was enough to give Shirou a slight migraine.
'Didn't think I'd get to scan so many magical weapons in one day…' A pain lanced through his legs and back, strained from running and tumbling all the way home from school. Didn't help the thumping in his head either. He had too much to process and too little time to do so. 'Dammit… what do I do now?'
He had no clue. Normally, getting advice from the old man was his go-to when confronting magic stuff he didn't understand. But that wasn't an option. Kiritsugu wasn't due to come back yet.
Meaning he was alone. Helpless and alone. With a Grail War occurring around him, no less.
Everyone was in danger. Forget him for a second. Shinji and Sakura… his neighbours and classmates… everyone… Everyone in Fuyuki…
They were in danger.
Memories of the fire long ago resurfaced in his head. The heat, the screams, the pain… Everything came rushing along with the adrenaline as he surmised the carnage the Holy Grail War would entail for his peaceful home.
'What should I do?' he thought.
Nothing… I can't do anything. I'm not even a decent magus. Forget standing up against a Servant, I'd probably fold or be crushed underfoot by their Master if I tried to get in the way.
The thought was damning, but otherwise, his predicament to a T. If he had the power and capability to maybe distract—no. That wouldn't help much. There were seven Masters, each bound to a Servant which was a hero of legend. Considering what his father told him about them, and what he'd felt like under the threat of being skewered so easily earlier, he can't do squat as he was.
Despite his father's training, he was weak.
No matter his apparent talent as a starting spellcaster, he was a nobody.
As himself, as just a human way in over his head, Shirou was barely an inconvenience.
I can't save anyone.
But what was he to do to fight back? Could he even…—could I… summon a Servant? Dad mentioned… there was a summoning circle he etched in the shed but—could I… Maybe I could use—?!
'No. No, no, no! Think straight, stupid!' It was a bitter pill to swallow but he stopped that dangerous line of thought. Kiritsugu drilled into him the method to call upon a Heroic Spirit, but he warned of the dangers and implications of doing so.
'To summon one was to commit to the war. Committing to the war means you'd have to win no matter what. The price for failing to do anything and everything for victory is too great for you. Failure could mean more than just another fire like the one that consumed everything that day. Remember, son. The day you pull the trigger is when you are ready to throw everything away.'
His father's words echoed in his head. A warning to be heeded wholeheartedly. If he wanted to save anyone, he'd have to be ready to risk it all. If he wanted to win, he'd have to make sure no one was…. was… he had to… to kill… …
No… He can't blindly throw himself into it just because of fear and weakness. He wanted to save everyone he cared about but… to do what he'd thought of would mean risking himself and his morals.
He recalled what Illya said. He can't die here. He had to live. For the sake of saving everyone, he had to survive long enough to do so…! But he'd also have to kill… he had to be ready to kill any enemy that stood in his way, because he would be killed if he didn't fight back.
But he wasn't even a passable magus. Forget being killed by another Master, what's to say he wouldn't be killed by what Servant he summoned?
He couldn't be reckless or an idiot, even if both is what he was all the time, now was not a moment to gamble everything. Not when so many were at stake…
But the urge to do something, anything, was great.
So great that it had his already-frayed nerves on edge. He already knew what it felt to lose everything to the fire. He didn't want that to happen again. Such was a heavyweight in his heart that had him hesitant to keep running.
It got worse when he turned the corner to run down his street… only to feel a supernatural aura suddenly encompass him.
"NGH!" Shirou froze, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth as his spine tingled.
He felt it once again, the looming danger of something he can't beat just watching him. Like realizing the eyes of a tiger are dead set on you, he felt his heart drop, his hairs tingle. The instinct to run was overwhelmed by the unnerving sense of dread of being caught already.
Shirou knew he shouldn't acknowledge the predatory gaze on him, but it was too late. He'd already stopped and obeyed the urge to look over his shoulder. There, just down the street, his amber orbs met the stare of a beautifully foreign woman with differently coloured eyes.
The woman nonchalantly approached, exotic clothing swaying in the chilly breeze as she stopped several meters away from him. But even at this distance, Shirou could feel it. The helplessness was akin to what he felt meeting that blue spearman encroached upon his whole being.
Though she was far away, there was no doubt in his mind she could kill him just as easily as the spear guy would've. His eyes roved over her attire, taking in her appearance and confirming it with a trace alone that she wasn't from here. She wasn't even human.
"Another… Servant…" he muttered to himself in fear but the woman seemed oddly surprised. That she smiled in acknowledgement had him bemoaning his horrible luck.
"Hm… And what do we have here?" the woman hummed in amusement. "A lone Master wandering about without their Servant? Quite reckless, don't you think, kid? Do you expect to win the war being so callous?"
"I…" He inched a foot back, slowly retreating and hoping the woman would let him go. He had to put hope somewhere if his begging didn't work. "I'm not a Master."
"Hmm… So you say, but kid." She pointed at the back of his hand with her chin. "Your Command Seals say otherwise. Consensual or not, you're part of the war. Unfortunately, that makes you my enemy."
A knife flew her way and was caught between her fingers. She turned the metal to admire its make before snapping it in half with barely any effort put into her thumb. The cracked metal glinted into motes of blue light, fragmenting like shiny but brittle glass as it disappeared in the wind.
"Hm. Cute."
Shirou didn't bother with her mockery as he summoned all he had and projected more knives to throw her way. Blade after blade, Swiss army knives to kitchen ones. He didn't have a clue what he was up against, but if there was one thing he could achieve with his abilities right now, that was to make a quick distraction in order to buy some time.
So he ran while his projections-turned-fragments pelted the Servant in the face.
"Heh. Think you can outrun a Rider, kid?"
Shirou didn't dare look behind him. Sending as many of his blades to blind her face, he didn't falter when he rounded the corner and slammed his shoulder into the doors of his home.
'Where is it? Where is it?!' Sifting through cabinets, he pulled some slips of paper out of the drawers and cast them aside. Protective wards used by his father would've come in handy holding out against a Master, probably, but that wasn't what he was looking for. Finding the specific box he was looking for not there, he groaned internally. 'Damn it… Did dad take his gun with him?'
The thud coming from the front door being forced open left Shirou with fewer options and even less time. Eyes darting about, he spotted the window and knew what he had to do.
"Oy, quit running around." The door to his room was kicked open and the woman came waltzing in unopposed. "You're a magus, are you not? My Master seeks a cordial exchange and your scampering about is pissing me—GAH!"
His only response was a small barrage of fragile daggers thrown at her face just before he leapt out the window. One swipe of her hands had the shattered projected metal scattering everywhere, scarring the wooden walls and flooring but otherwise not even scratching her own clothes.
Not even bothering to waste time looking at the ineffectiveness of his resistance, Shirou fled to the last place he could. The shed!
Getting in and locking himself in the box of a shelter, he pushed a cabinet against the door. A cabinet made of wood… That basically sealed any and every escape he had…
He'd run himself into a bloody corner, hadn't he?
'What now?!'
A thud sounded from beyond the door. Thinking fast, he put his all into tracing a good enough weapon. His knives were pointless, so he had to get creative. Forget modern weapons though. His long time spent practising projection told him he wasn't capable of making firearms.
"Trace o—GAH!"
Thoughts quickly ran straight to the spear that the blue guy used, but the ensuing migraine forced him to his knees and writhing in pain. His Magic Circuits sparked to life but were strained by the requirements of that projection, serving him a punishing blow for thinking he could project something so otherworldly.
'DAMMIT!' He groaned through his teeth. 'What is that thing made of?!'
Not normal metal, that was for sure. He had difficulty with things that weren't blades or knives, but a spear of that make? Just trying to make it feel like he was pushing his brain through the eye of a needle.
'Shit… Come on! Think!'
He had no time to panic. Time was not on his side. Quite frankly, it was only due to the woman taking her time that he had any time to suffer the consequences of his wrong decisions.
"Seems like you're a little stuck, brat!" CRASH. She bothered to knock before using a fist to punch a hole in the door and shoving the cabinet aside like it was made of paper. "Here! Let me lend you a hand! Or maybe a foot!"
What was apparently a kick threw the hinges clean off, splinters sent flying in Shirou's face as he fell deeper into the shed. The whole rickety structure was starting to collapse, causing part of the entrance to fall on the Servant woman's head and buying him precious seconds.
But seconds to do what? He barely had time to dust off as he scurried in retreat, back against the wall. One hand was up, tracing a useless dagger that was doubtlessly pointless against the vicious woman. His other hand fell behind him, trying to support his weight. That is until his fingers traced a formation made entirely of silver fluid that depicted the glyph for—'the Servant Summoning spell!'
He wheeled around to stare at the glyph. It hummed lightly with power, weak yet functional. He recalled Kiritsugu had this set up for other reasons before when he was an active participant in the previous war, but… Though he taught Shirou the chant that was required to use it, he also demanded Shirou never approach it. Why it was glowing with power now of all times, Shirou didn't know. But…
Did he dare use it?
If he could summon a Servant, he could be saved.
But would he really—? Kiritsugu warned against it! And he sure as shit wasn't ready—!
CRASH. The roof just about caved in as the woman marched in, expression unamused and differently-coloured eyes assessing him for all he was worth. "No more running. Either you cooperate or… well, my Master likely won't mind if I made your passing quick and painless."
He was dead. Of that, he was certain. She may have tried for a peaceful resolution, but there was no way he could trust a magus or their Servant. Not when something as important as the Grail was involved.
Lenient as they may act, he might as well be dead when the day is done.
That meant it was to fight or die. And he sure as hell wasn't going out peacefully. "Trace—!"
Steel manifested in the air. Swiss army knives, kitchen blades, everything and anything he'd practised on all these years that he could manifest without much effort. And while each weapon was of rudimentary make, that only meant he could spawn as much as his Magic Circuits could—
"GAH!" A shiver ran through his spine as his projection exerted pressure on his meagre Circuits, reaching beyond what he normally used them for. 'Dammit… is this it for me?'
"You dare squander a chance at surrender, boy?" the woman scoffed as he fired one blade her way. She caught it with ease and twirled it between her fingers. "Fine. I respect a warrior that would stand to their very last, foolish as it may be. Come at me!"
"RAAAAAAAAGH!" Shirou hated it. Not the fact that her mocking tone claimed to respect his decision, but the fact that he had no choice in the matter. That and his waning strength as she continued to swat away his projections like they were flies. Pushing on, he sought more from his meagre reserves.
'More… I need more!' he groaned against the stress the magecraft was putting on his body. Swallowing hard, he pulled on anything and everything he had. "TRACE—" He bit his lip… and it bled a darkred. "—ON!"