A Stolen Heart (Non-Pokémon, Mystery) MATURE (2024)

Aye, to be honest, she could be astoundingly annoying sometimes.

The lads at the station had started to treat me as laughing stock for quite some time already. Missing out every second poker night was one thing, but when your wife started to barge into the local bar every night and drag your half-drunken ass somewhere away from all the whiskey, things tended to get a bit embarrassing. And while her, to be completely frank and blunt here, stonking great tit* were more than enough to make a man give up gambling and drinking, however reluctantly, being forced to work every day in the darn flower garden was a blow to my pride no kind of divine body could satisfy.

It was at times like those, when the scorching sun turned the back of my neck redder than my eyes and my trained nose recoiled from the stench of my sweat mixed with the positively unpleasant aroma of the fertilizer that I cursed myself three times over for telling her I had helped Ma at the flower shop as a child, in a vain attempt to present myself as more than a gruff and shaggy mutt to her. Still, at least I had somehow managed to make use of my extensive knowledge of botany that actually no real man would dare admit of having.

She wasn’t much of a cook either. When someone willing to eat almost anything as long as it filled him up a bit got cold sweat just from entering the kitchen when you were cooking, you would probably get the hint that your dishes were a disaster comparable to whatever the hell wiped out ‘em dinosaurs. But she was stubborn as that- and the worst was when she thought I was having an affair while I actually stayed late after work every day so I could eat something edible.

Aye, looking back, she wasn’t without flaws.

And yet I could swear I wouldn’t survive even a day without her. She was like an angel- nah, she was an angel to me. My little precious guardian angel that gave meaning to my life and made out of me something more than a constantly drunk policeman with anger management issues. When I was with her, I wasn’t even afraid of the Spasms. All it took was one caress, one whispered word of hers into my ear- and the frothing beast just lied down and rolled over on his back in wait of getting scratched and tickled. Aye, that beauty had tamed the beast like no other.

And every time I wake up next to her and see her sleeping face, I thank whatever god was listening for letting me meet her. Or maybe she really was a godsend gift to me. Her hazel eyes, always so bright and cheerful that I can swear they shame the sun itself, they melt me every time she looks at me. Her wine-red hair feels like silk between my fingers- it’s probably the only thing capable of reducing me into a little girl when I get lost into playing with her short locks. The taste of her ruby lips… it’s beyond divine, beyond mortal pleasure, beyond the taste of the gods’ ambrosia.

Aye, I would sell my soul if I could make this moment last forever.

She, sleeping next to me curled up like a little child, eyelashes fluttering slightly as she roams the land of dreams. I, lightly embraced by her slender hands that have a tighter hold on me than even a chain which could shackle gods. And, lostt in bliss not meant for any mortal man, I lean closer to her, unable to resist the allure of her slightly parted-lips any more…

“Well, aren’t you the dead warmed over.”

Just like that, only because of his once again untimely interference and grating voice, the spell was broken. I got yanked out of the land of dreams like a puppy dragged by his chain and was forced to open my tired eyes. Which was quite the feat in and of itself actually- my eyelids felt like lead. The first thing I saw was one magnificently painful clusterf*ck of blurred images as the sun peering through the open window blinded me with glee.

A grayish shadow floating just above me thankfully blocked out some of the sun. It took some time to recognize said blur of white and silver as Archer’s hair. Sadly, the one to whom the hair was usually attached was also present. Never let it be said that Lady Luck has ever smiled upon this hound.

“That means that I’m still prettier than you, dipstick,” I somehow managed to say, despite the feeling of my throat getting shredded by an imaginary grater as I spoke. “What the hell are you doing here? I won’t accept anyone but a gorgeous lass waking me up-“

Actually, I wouldn’t have accepted anyone but Bazett…

“-or… wait. I’m in hell aren’t I?”

“And this is the thanks I get for dragging you back to the land of the living?” drawled out Archer and crossed his hands in front of his chest. “Honestly, I’m still asking myself why I bothered myself with you when I could’ve gone looking for some pretty dame to save instead.”

We glared at each other for some time- the kind of intense glare that happened only between two men that wouldn’t like to see nothing more than the other face down in a ditch and yet were unable to let go of the mutual rivalry. Afterwards, be it seconds, minutes or hours later- an irritated female voice put an end to our staring contest.

“Settle down, girls, you both are pretty, okay?”

With eyes shooting daggers at both of us, Touko Aozaki was huddled almost comically in one of the chairs at the base of my bed. It was kind of strange really- her eyes were suspiciously red, almost like she had cried. And yet I couldn’t even be sure of those details because her face constantly washed in and out of focus when I looked at her. Even without getting a clear view, I noticed how her expression turned grim. Was I squinting that obviously?

“Rejoice, Lancer,” said Archer with a sneer, trying his darn best to imitate that bastard’s voice. And yet he almost sounded like he was trying to hide his concern behind the lame joke. “You finally have the chance of looking a bit closer to a person of average intelligence! The doctor said you are going to need glasses from now on. Hell, he said it was a miracle you could still see at all with the amount of blood vessels inside your eyes that got damaged,” he finished, reverting back to his own, no less annoying or grating voice.

Aye, I remembered when Archer mentioned it. The Warp Spasm. Honestly, it was a miracle that I was still alive, much less being able to see. That one spasm was like none I had ever had before- the feeling had been close to my body eating itself from the inside. I gritted my teeth in an attempt to chase away the painful memory and tried propping myself up on my hands.

Nothing happened.

“Hey, Archer,” I started, my eyes now wandering somewhere to Touko’s left. Her fiery red hair glistened lightly under the light of the sun- almost like Bazett’s. Almost. “Why can’t I feel my hands?”

The redhead’s response was hurriedly lighting up a cigarette. It took some time actually- her trembling hand struggled with the lighter. Apparently no one had bothered to remind her she couldn’t smoke in the hospital. Archer didn’t look keen on answering either, preferring to stare out of the window and pretend his hearing had suddenly left him. Finally, after what felt like an eternity to me, the silver-haired bastard obliged to look me in the eyes and answer.

“A Warp Spasm of that magnitude… your body wasn’t even meant to survive it. The doctors said that if you hadn’t passed out of blood loss right then and there, if you had been conscious for even a bit more to keep the Spasm running, your heart would’ve burst and your nervous system would’ve gotten fried completely. Your sight isn’t much of a problem- a pair of glasses will remedy that. But your hands… when I found you they were beyond shattered. They were just lumps of meat attached to your body- the freaking bones were sticking out of them like spikes! You looked like you had ten fingers on each hand- the bones had been forced out of the flesh. Whatever nerves and muscles you’ve had from the elbows down… no surgeon can repair that.”

“I’ll fix him!” almost shouted Touko and shot Archer a glare I had seen only once so far- after that one poor sod had called her a ‘dirty red’. “I’ll make even better prosthetic hands than… than that one! I’m sure I’ll be able to hook them up with the nerves and muscles higher in his hands. We’ll… we’ll just chop off the useless parts.”

Aye, it made sense for her to be so jittery and nervous. After all, that demonic hand was her creation. And word of how things were, or at least some accurate guesses, had surely gotten out so far. Still, she shouldn’t have worried. I doubt there was anyone whom that old snake hadn’t played for a fool.

“Oi, don’t worry about that!” I said with as much force as my sore throat could muster. She just continued to smoke her cigarette like some darn addict, eyes wandering somewhere far away.

“Hey!”

The only response was a cloud of smoke being exhaled through her ruby lips.

“Hey, Dirty Red!” I shouted, angry enough to be willing to take a risk no sane mane had ever taken.

It worked like a charm. Her long ponytail swished through the air as she turned around to face me, eyes boring a burning hole through my soul as she probably prepared herself to tear out whatever nerves I had left in my body with her bare hands. And then the sense of dread disappeared just as suddenly as it had arrived, her reaction apparently being only on instinct. Still, I had gotten her attention… somewhat.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Aozaki. Kotomine was a bastard tricky enough to cheat the devil. It’s not your fault.”

She only found the strength to nod and hid her eyes under her bangs. I could’ve sworn I had seen something glisten at the corner of her eye for a moment. Of course, Archer wouldn’t have been Archer without ruining the mood even further.

“Lancer, about Baz-“

“Don’t.”

It wasn’t a human’s voice that barked the order. And despite being too weak to even shout properly, despite it being an order by a darn cripple, it shut him up. Whatever Archer had seen in the hound’s eyes at that moment, it had made him beat a retreat like no other.

Frankly, I don’t know why I reacted that way. It wasn’t like it was his fault, he may have even wanted to say something to make me feel better in his own overly sarcastic way. But I didn’t want to talk about it. Deep down, even while I had dreamt that dream… I had decided. I was going to remember Bazett the way she had been before him, before that bastard had corrupted and twisted my little guardian angel. The one bearing the skull mask I was going to chase away from my memories forever. It was the coward’s way, aye, but I just couldn’t bear it. I would’ve gone insane if I let myself to remember her pale face and glazed over eyes.

But who it was that killed her in the end… that sin I was never going to forgive or forget. That sin was mine and mine alone to bear… and when my time came, I was willing to accept my punishment in the deepest pits that Hell could offer. It was funny in a way that made me want to cry- I had spent so many sleepless nights chasing after her killer when it had been me the whole time… aye, that kind of twist was like right out some crappy detective novel.

With his fangs bared, the hound let out a howling laugh- the hoarse laugh of a madman.

And the hound was promptly silenced by the fist of the silver-haired bastard.

“Don’t,” he echoed, looking at me with those damn grey eyes of his that made you think he could read your mind.

The time passed in silence as the sun slowly descended behind the western horizon. The hospital room’s sterile white tiles were colored red- the deepest crimson, like a blossoming rose- by the parting beams of the sun. The aroma of Touko’s cigarettes lingered into the air as she continued to light one after another, lost in fretful contemplation. Archer had taken the other chair and was currently sitting cross-legged, fingers rubbing his temples to fight off the impeding headache.

“How long was I out?” I finally asked, unable to bear the silence anymore.

“Around three days,” answered my former partner. He then continued speaking, as if he wanted nothing more than someone willing to listen to the tales of his investigation. “You’ve to thank your landlord actually. The old hag heard a commotion and went to see what was happening, probably to tell you not to snore so loud. Then she found the broken table, the holes from the bullets and the blood all over the place. And Uryuu’s dead body was probably the last straw ‘cause she immediately phoned the police. It was my night shift and since I knew you’ve got no common sense whatsoever, I got to your place as fast as I could to search for some clue where you’ve gone to. Thankfully, I found this next to the body,” he said and took out the figurine of the black hooded angel out of his pocket.

“I remember seeing one like that around Kotomine’s neck when I questioned him so I headed to the church… but the party was over before I could get there.”

“Why would you question him?” I said, more out of curiosity than anything else. Up until last night- or rather, three nights ago- Kirei wasn’t on my suspect list at all.

“Well, I did some digging after I found out who hired you, tried to investigate my little brother’s activities to find out why and how he was connected to the Matou girl. Turns out Shirou visited Kotomine’s church several times the past few weeks. You can guess how useful that bastard was as an informer, tho.”

Another minute passed in silence and then Archer finally stood up after checking the time on his wrist watch. The sun had already set behind him, leaving the city of sins to be engulfed by the twilight that always preceded the impregnable darkness.

“Well, I gotta go. I’ve got an… ahem, appointment. Try not to die before you pay me back for saving you, old dog,” he said with a smirk and waved a casual goodbye.

“Your little kitty cat waiting for you, Archer?”

My words froze him on the spot. For a moment there I wondered if he was going to punch me again, or just go all out and strangle me while I couldn’t defend myself. But nothing of the sort happened and he just silently left, not even bothering to slam the door behind him. I actually wondered why he had saved me at all- he was probably guessing that I had uncovered enough to drag him and his precious little Rin down in the mud. And yet… there I was. Alive because of him.

Aye, being indebted to him was almost as bad as losing both my arms.

“What’s the Commissioner’s official cover-up?” I asked Touko, trying to get my mind off such gruesome thoughts.

“He’s probably going to give you a medal or something,” said the redhead and let out a laugh- at least she seemed to be getting better. “He’d shout from the top of the clock tower if he could- how the crazy priest set up a cult to attack the families, but it’s no use anymore. Even without you revealing whatever you’ve unearthed, the mafias are headless now. The branch families of the Matou have split into small gangs, the Einzbern’s leader is a little girl who has been doing nothing but cry this last three days from what I hear and Kiritsugu is losing ground after his people failed so many assignments. Velvet will probably try to keep you quiet with medals and money but… I doubt you’ll bite, right? And the Yakuza are now practically marching into the old families’ territories now. And the heads of the Tohsaka branch families are arguing day in and day out who to be the leader now that it’s out that old Tokiomi is six feet under.”

“At least Kotomine’s creepy cult is over.”

“Well…” Touko started darkly, too darkly for my tastes. “I heard Velvet talking with Archer yesterday- they’ve unearthed the graves of people who had supposedly died from overdose form the past few months and it turns out that, compared to the number of bodies found in the church, around one-third of them are missing. There’re patrols prowling the city day and night now, trying to find out where they could be hiding.”

It was a disturbing turn of events, that much was certain. And I had trouble wrapping my mind around how exactly a bunch of cultist junkies could hide their tracks so well. Without Kotomine they had no goal or purpose and whoever else was capable of taking the position of leader, I had killed with my own two hands. Could they have been possibly trying to fulfill their mission even without their dark messiah present?

And then I sensed it- that gnawing irritating feeling at the back of your head you get when you’re just sure you are forgetting something and can’t remember what it is. Like chasing sun spots, I struggled to remember what could possibly make me so uneasy when everything was finally over. Metaphorically speaking, it was as if I had managed to connect all the pieces of the puzzle but some of them were upside-down or put in the wrong places. Something about this whole thing was off…

“Lancer?” Touko asked worriedly. I didn’t bother to answer.

“…And Shirou changed after he started going out with her. Every time they met at the Babylon he would come home dizzy and with bloodshot eyes. And while he had always been somewhat… heroic, after he met her he started blurting those ridiculous ‘Hero of Justice’ theories more and more. I didn’t like this new Shirou. It was like he was speaking more of vengeance than of justice. She changed him and took him from me!...”

“..Well, what I’m telling you I’ve heard from Shirou…”

“Should I call the doctor? Hey, are you hurting somewhere?” Touko was starting to panic. I was too enthralled in my own thoughts to say anything.

”…Turns out Shirou visited Kotomine’s church several times that past few weeks…”

“Lanc-“ the redhead looked ready to dart out of the room and call a doctor so shook my head wildly to cut her off.

“…Shirou… Shirou was willing to acknowledge that and break the accursed circle. ‘A Hero of Justice’, he said. Well, I welcome any and all who are willing to sweep the filth off my city…”

“…The Angel of Death that I created has sown the seeds of discord and vengeance already. And in the newly-born dark messiah’s, the true spirit of Vengeance, own words ‘first I’ll punish the one of Lust, then the epitome of Greed shall follow and then each and every of the rest’!...”

“First I’ll punish the one of Lust,” I echoed weakly and Touko looked at me like I had suddenly grown a second head. “Hey, Aozaki… the first victim was actually Tokiomi Tohsaka, right?”

The redhead didn’t look like she understood my ramblings one bit but nodded weakly in response. She had apparently decided to play along with whatever madness had taken hold of me for now.

“How was the heart removed from Sakura’s body?”

“Uhm… it was cut out,” answered Touko, knitting her delicate eyebrows in her attempt to remember the details. “The three main arteries connecting to it had been cut out before it had been removed. It was… precise and perfect,” finished the coroner with no small amount of disgust.

“That’s it, precise and perfect,” I repeated her words grimly. Twice I had seen that demon hand in action. Clean wounds were the last things it left behind. It tore the hearts out, it didn’t cut them out. And Kotomine would’ve only sent… Bazett or Ryuu, never a mere goon with no metallic claws to flaunt.

…Then the epitome of Greed shall follow and then each and every of the rest…

“Kotomine wasn’t the only killer!” I shouted and tried to stand up on reflex, only to fail rather pathetically. Still, the realization was much too great for me to bother with being dragged down by my lack of working upper appendages. “The modus operandi doesn’t match up! And back then Kotomine said some things-“

I stopped for a second, reason finally catching up with my instincts. Could I trust someone like that false priest? He had manipulated and played everyone for fools but… he never actually lied. That was the greatest insult of all actually, how good he was at twisting the truth and making you believe a false reality without him pointing out the details for you. All that time when he had talked as if Bazett was alive he wasn’t actually lying…

Nah, there was a second murderer and I was sure of it. Only his identity was what bothered me. But it was irrelevant anyway until he was caught. First the one of Lust- that was Sakura, with her ravenous tastes for earthly pleasures. Lust meant sex and that could only lead to the conclusion that Greed meant… money.

“Call Velvet!” I ordered Touko a bit more forcedly than needed. The redhead just raised a delicate eyebrow and looked at me unamusedly. “The killer’s next target is Gil King!”

“Look, Lancer, you’re just tired and you went through a lot-“ she started and my blood froze when I realized where she was getting at.

“I’m not mad, Aozaki! I’m not paranoid, nor delusional, nor wrong and I sure as hell ain’t crazy,” I said, hastily cutting her off and struggling to get up using only my torso and legs. The pain that jolted through my body nearly made me bite my tongue off.

The redheaded puppeteer threw me a rather judging look, as if she could tell whether the cogs turning inside my head were broken if she just looked at me really intensely. After only half a minute ,which felt like half an year to me, she answered half-heartedly.

“No one at the station is going to believe you. And I know personally both the Commissioner and Mr. King- Velvet hates him, heavens know why, but he hates him with a passion. Even if he believes you he’d rather leave him be gutted before he’d show up, fashionably late. Just on time to catch the killer and just late enough for King to die.”

I gritted my aching teeth against each other, trying to come up with a plan. Alas, the hound wasn’t a very tactical thinker- and so he came up with the only rational decision that didn’t rely on unreliable outside factors- but it was probably going to end in his death or, at least, in tons of pain.

“Oi, Aozaki… help me get dressed, would ya? Please?” I added and tried flashing her an innocent smile. In my case that meant showing her two rows of rather pointy teeth bared in a feral grin.

“No.”

Well, that could’ve gone better.

I started arguing with- or rather, pleading- her to allow me to pull off my positively insane scheme. It was a matter of life and death. Well, frankly, there was no love lost between me and Gil King but if saving the blond bastard’s life meant catching the psycho who had killed the little goddess, I considered it a fair trade. Aye, I had made a promise, a Geassa. Even if I had to crawl to the top floor of the Babylon like a worm, dressed in nothing but my hospital gown, I had to do it.

“Come on, that’s the only way! We’re just going to warn him. He has enough guards to defend himself.”

“Why don’t I just phone him?” she countered victoriously, confident that she had shattered my plan into a million of tiny pieces and then scattered them to the four winds.

“You think he’ll believe you?”

Her smirk disappeared with the speed of a factory worker who had just gotten his monthly pay racing towards the nearest bar.

“We can’t get there on time, Lancer.”

“You can drive or we’ll get a taxi. For the right amount of money he’ll get us there in no time.”

“The guards won’t let us into the Babylon just like that, much less allow us to see him face to face.”

“You’ve gotten us in before. And you just said yourself you’re personally acquainted with him, did you not?”

All defenses crumbling, Touko pinched the bridge of her nose to fight off the impending headache.

“Lancer, you’re so insane it’s not even funny.”

Insane? Nah, arguing to save Gil King’s sorry excuse of a life meant I was so beyond insanity that I had broken the scales. But then again, I was desperate. Bite me.

It was ridiculous.

Outrageous.

A sick joke that the Universe was playing on me. After all, who else but this hound was that bitch’s chew toy?

After Touko had somehow managed to help me get dressed despite my current mobility and flexibility being on the level of a wooden plank, after I had nearly had to headbutt my doctor into unconsciousness to get him to let me go, after spending the full contents of my already nearly empty wallet to make the cab driver take us there on time...

Gil King welcomed us with a mixture of a smirk and the look you gave to gum stuck to your shoe. The blond bastard didn’t even bother to stand up from the president chair behind his antique mahogany desk. He just stood there, a thick Cuban cigar clutched between his lips and looked at us as if he waited for us to put up a circus performance.

There was no blood on him, no heart-shaped hole on his chest, no killer maniac rampaging in the room, no nothing.

Aye, for such embarrassment, humanity doesn’t even have a word invented yet.

“Touko,” he started, not even bothering to recognize my existence and looking only at the redhead. And even the glance he gave her was like that of a master speaking to his maid. “What, pray tell, is this mongrel of a mutt doing inside my home?”

And I wanted to eat my own fedora in fury when I saw Aozaki actually blushing for the first time ever, her cheeks flushed in a color rather close to her bright red hair. I let out a tired sigh and answered instead of her, trying to at least not make her suffer any future embarrassments because of me.

“Gil, ole’ pal of mine,” I said, immediate counterattack being the only way I could salvage whatever respect I had left. I didn’t even care that he could easily throw me out through the window if I spoke to him in such a way. It was do or die and I had already kinda died three days ago. “I just thought that you’re probably going to be the killer’s next target so I had Aozaki help me rush bravely here to save your scrawny rich ass. Sadly, it seems I’ve been mistaken and you’re probably going to live to see another day. But if the killer shows up after us, do give me a holler, a’ight?”

Frankly, considering the look his crimson eyes gave me, it was a miracle he didn’t make me into a pincushion for those fancy antique weapons he kept mounted to the walls in his office.

“Listen well, mutt,” he spat out the word, like I was a being so small and insignificant that even a bacteria would look like a giant next to me. “While I appreciat Miss Aozaki here being upset about any possible damage done to my well-toned rear assets, neither said assets nor my bank account have anything to do with a mongrel like you. I highly advise you to turn tail and run, mutt, before I fulfill my promise from last time and you find yourself on the express way down.”

I knew I had to do as he said, I fully realized that getting on Gil King’s bad side any further meant practically digging myself a grave and then closing the lid of the coffin personally, but by the heavens! I wanted nothing more than to shove that ornate red spear that was hanged over the mantelpiece up that prideful bastard’s arse ‘till it the tip popped out through his nose.

And then it hit me.

Not the money were Gil King’s signature sin. Nah, above all else, the blond bastard’s main characteristic was being the very rare special kind of douchebag that was born once a century. But who was the target then? The Matous were out of the question already- there wasn’t anyone significant left to kill. After that hulking butler’s death Kiritsugu had probably placed tight enough security at the Einzbern’s castle that they could certainly push back a whole army. Emiya himself was surrounded by people like the late Kojiro all day long. The Tigress was strong enough to fend off any assailant herself, even if he was backed up by a small army. So that only left…

“The Tohsaka mansion! That’s the killer’s destination tonight, that’s where he’s gonna hit!” I whispered hastily into Touko’s ear. Needless to say, she was less than enthusiastic to go along with me this time.

“Lancer, think about it for a minute!” she nearly hissed at me and looked ready to drag me back to the hospital by the ear if she had to. “You were wrong once already, you can’t just keep guessing and barging into people… dangerous people’s houses. Who knows, maybe there isn’t another culprit! Maybe Kotomine had just ordered her heart to be carefully cut out on purpose to set us off track. That’s completely his style.”

“A woman and a cripple,” snigg*red the blond bastard. “Truly this hypothetical killer would be shaking in his boots now if he knew who was after him.”

It took all my willpower not to bite off his neck right then and there, consequences be damned.

Gritting my teeth, I let out one of ‘em special cusses which Pa used to save only for extraordinary situations and I hightailed it out of there before Touko could stop me. After all, I was already dressed and it wasn’t like she could help me get inside the mansion. I only prayed that the triple dose of morphine I threatened the doc to give me didn’t wear out before I got there.

The cab ride through the rain-drenched streets of the dark city felt like eternity. And since I had spent all my money paying for the lightning-fast trip to the Babylon, I was forced to break out of the car by force when we reached our destination and pray that the cursing driver wasn’t crazy enough to chase me inside the Tohsaka’s territory just because of some measly cab fare. Thankfully, unlike me, the driver seemed to possess enough common sense to let it go and drive away with a few more fabulous curses and several quips about Ma that would’ve usually earned him a broken nose and a toothless mouth. But that night was different- I was in too much of a hurry to bother paying back. So all I could do was mutter a silent apology to Ma and direct some of Pa’s favorite curses at the wide-open gate .And although it made things easier for me, I doubted the Tohsakas had the habit of leaving the main entrance to their home wide open in the dead of the night.

It was my first time visiting the mansion and normally, in a house so big I would’ve gotten lost rather quickly. But the commotion coming from somewhere within was loud enough to guide me through the lightless corridors and down and up several flights of stairs. What kind of a person needed such a big house anyway?

As I neared my destination the tell-tale signs of a raging battle were easy to discern. Countless daggers, knifes and bullets littered the floors, the walls and in some odd cases, even the ceiling. When I got even nearer, the first of the trail of black-clad bodies, now busy painting the expensive carpet crimson with their innards, started showing up. The noise got a bit clearer and I could even discern the signature sound of guns being fired and the clatter of metal against metal. I got uneasy when suit-clad corpses, doubtlessly Rin’s guards, started appearing amidst the assassins’ bodies.

“Persistent… cowardly… bastards!”

There was no mistaking the voice that spat out the string of annoyance-dripping words one after another. He soon came into view, too. After turning around one final blood-drenched corner, I entered a spacious hall big enough to fit my whole apartment in it three times over.

And sure enough, it was more than easy to spot the blur of silverfish-gray hair that jolted around amidst the waves of black-clad skull-faced assassins. I tried to ignore the fact that Archer was naked from the waist up, much less what it implied, so I instead tried to evaluate my former partner’s situation. Not that had any idea how a cripple could help him back then. I was kinda winging everything that night so planning that far up front wasn’t actually in my plans. Neither did it sound so redundant in my head…

Still, it didn’t look like Archer needed my help either way. While he was bleeding for a dozen cuts and his whole upper body was littered with bruises, he was doing fairly well for someone faced with a bunch of knife-wielding cultist junkies who practically ran only on adrenaline and whatever else was in those drugs. Those twin black and white modern pistols of his were a blur in his hands. Every shot was a certain kill and there wasn’t a single bullet wasted. Which wasn’t that much of a surprise considering that the usual distance between the gun and the target was from zero to thirty centimeters. Why a gunslinger like him had a style revolving completely on getting close enough to the opponent to actually try to fence him with the pistol and punch him in the face with the barrel, was a mystery for the ages. Why he would be considered a gunslinger at all if he fought only up close was another.

The clatter of blades clashing against guns filled the hall as Archer took them out one after the other. Blocks, punches, shooting over his shoulder, under it, pivoting and turning a complete three hundred and sixty degrees- there wasn’t a single useless move in Archer’s repertoire. The crowd of masked goons dwindled rather quickly. Still, to their credit, not even one of the black shades tried to escape. They fought to the last man and even after Archer had put half a magazine worth of bullets inside said last man’s torso, he had stubbornly kept on slashing away until a bullet shot from right under his chin had ended his career as a wannabe assassin.

For a fleeting moment, for one millisecond that was even less than a heartbeat, I could almost admit that I was glad Archer hadn’t ended up a glorified pincushion in my absence. And then he gave me that condensing smug look of his that just begged me to punch him in the face. Or kick him, considering how useless both of my arms were at the moment. That was one of the most annoying things in Archer- he tended to forget that no amount of gun-ballet could hope to stand even a ghost of a chance against a Warp Spasm.

“ARCHER!”

The angry shout, as if torn right out from inside my brain, echoed in the spacious hall. It was a familiar voice, even if vaguely. And I even prayed that I was wrong and the speaker wasn’t who I thought he was. But there was no mistaking that disheveled mop of reddish hair.

Shirou Emiya barged into the room as if he owned it, dragging along an unconscious Rin Tohsaka, dressed only in a mostly see-through red nightie. Which explained Archer’s lack of upper clothing, for better or for worse. Curiously, Shirou was naked from the waist up as well- but one could easily see the reason for his getup, or rather lack of such. A web of intricate symbols and sigils was freshly tattooed on the teen’s body, clearly visible under the artificial light stemming down from the chandelier. Even his face was covered in intertwining voodoo-shmoodo marks. And judging by the onyx knife currently pressed against Rin’s pale and slender throat, it wasn’t merely an ordinary teenage rebellion.

“Give it up, Archer!” spat out the leader of the assassins and shot a glare towards me and his adopted brother. “There is no stopping it! Judgment shall be passed tonight and this sinner’s rotten blood shall paint this city red. Her greed is her undoing. She was ready to hide the death of her own father, leave him to rot away buried under some tree and hidden in the woods just because she doesn’t want to lose her family’s fortune. Her ambition is like poison that has filled even your veins, Archer, you who revoked your claims of the Emiya family’s inheritance just so you could pursue your flimsy definition justice.”

Aye, the lad was mad alright. But it wasn’t only the tattoos or the lunacy talk that set him so much apart from that jittery boy that had barged into my office to ask me to search for his lass. There were bags under his sunken bloodshot eyes and one too many puncture marks around the veins on his arms.

“But this,” bellowed out Shirou and bared his teeth in a madman’s grin. “This is true Justice! The justice of vengeance which this city of sins has waited for so many years. No more will the sinners rule us even in clear daylight. We won’t need to fear them no more! I will cut their wretched hearts out for all to see, show the public their secrets and most of all, show them that they are mortal and that none escapes the blade of Justice! None escapes the blade of Vengeance!”

I tried to open my mouth and give him a piece of my mind but, as if knowing I was gonna speak up, Archer cut me off before I had even began.

“Don’t interfere. This is a family matter.”

Archer clearly was out of breath, judging by the heaving that accompanied every rise and fall of his chest. His silverfish hair was drenched and the sweat poured down into his eyes, probably blurring his vision. A small pool of blood was starting to form around his feet. With the adrenaline surge wearing off, the numerous cuts were starting to take their toll on him. Normally a rowdy loudmouthed teenager would’ve been a joke to deal with for either of us but in our current conditions, and with Rin as a hostage no less, things weren’t exactly pretty.

“No, Archer,” Shirou countered and pointed accusingly at his brother with his knife. “This is far beyond mere family matters. This is about the very future of this city.”

“Hah, a petty squabble with my little brother isn’t going to affect the city, Shirou,” said Archer as sarcastically as he could, desperate to bluff about his condition.

“Shirou Emiya is no more!” countered the teen, eyes almost bulging out in rage. “He was a weakling, a nobody who wanted to let that slu*t off the hook just because of some twisted kind of love. This one loved her, too, y’know. But because of that love, I killed her so she could atone for her sins in this world and not suffer in the next. This one has transcended, baptized in Sakura Matou’s blood. This one is Avenger! And this one is willing to bear all the evil in this world for his loved one’s sake. After every last sinner is purged mine will be the last soul sacrificed, the last life taken that shall shatter the cursed circle of revenge which has trapped this whole city since forever.”

It wasn’t physical pain that made my heart fall when I heard his delusional words. Rather, their similarity to those of others, even to my own silent vow that I had taken three nights ago, made me weak in the knees. To his credit, Archer didn’t seem fazed in the least.

“So that’s why you killed Sakura, Shirou?” asked Archer, disgust dripping from his voice. “That’s why you killed the one you love? Because of some twisted sense of justice?”

“It’s not twisted at all!” countered Shirou in much the same way a child would argue with his big brother in a normal situation. “I am a Hero of Justice now! I have steeled my heart because I made the greatest sacrifice of all for the cause! But you can do it, too, Archer! You can be a Hero of Justice as well! Just shoot her, kill this greedy skan* and join me as I purge this city from its sins!”

“Is that so, Shirou?” Archer asked almost rhetorically after a minute or so of contemplation and raised his gun to my great surprise. “Are those your ideals?”

The tattooed teen nodded vigorously and even propped Rin’s head up by the chin so Archer could shoot her more easily.

“Then drown in your ideals, little brother-“

“Huh?” the teen couldn’t even express his surprise properly, his eyes widening accusingly at his big brother, as if he wanted to cry and rat him out to daddy for bullying him.

“-And die.”

The lone echo of the flying bullet lingered in the hall long after the dead body of Shirou Emiya, a bullet lodged between his eyes, hit the blood-splattered floor of the Tohsaka mansion.