"Unacceptable."
From the plain leather sofa on which she was lazing about, Karasuba listened in on her Ashikabi's phone call. She didn't find the subject matter particularly interesting, but it was as good a pastime as any considering she didn't have anything better to do right now.
"I don't understand the issue. I'll be covering the expenses… No, why would I do that? I'm calling you because my current equipment does not perform the way I need it to. Installing something cheaper would be counterproductive."
The man had his cellphone pinched between his cheek and shoulder. He was typing away on his laptop between rebuttals. She could hear every click of his keyboard clearly thanks to the small size of the room; his seat at the kitchen table was virtually right next to the couch.
"…Thank you for your time. I'm sorry we couldn't come to an agreement."
With a sigh, he relaxed his neck and placed the device on the table.
"What a pain," he mumbled to himself. "It's almost like a higher power wants me to be inconvenienced today. First, the courier lost the new mattress and bed frame in transit, and now this."
Karasuba yawned.
"You should have installed it before you called," she said. "Him telling you 'no' wouldn't have mattered as much that way."
Her Ashikabi wasn't impressed with her reasoning.
"I'm only renting this place. I can't install a new stove without the landlord's approval." He narrowed his eyes at her. "And why are you still here? It's mid-afternoon."
"I'm not working today."
He blinked. "It's your day off?"
The woman shifted and made herself more comfortable on her makeshift bed.
"They'll call me if they need me."
Silence reigned for an instant before he went back to typing.
"You're skipping out on work, then."
He wouldn't get an answer.
Karasuba silently rose to her feet and joined her partner at the table. Instead of pulling out a chair for herself, she chose to drape herself onto his back.
"Not now, please," he muttered. "I'm trying to focus."
He was ignored.
The Sekirei's eyes tried to count the number of tabs that he had open at once.
"Isn't this a pain? At the rate you're going, you might be better off doing what everyone else is doing. Let's just take a stroll around the city and keep our eyes peeled."
She was bored. Very, very bored.
Her Ashikabi quirked a brow skeptically.
"Is that really what 'everyone else' is doing?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
He sighed. Her Ashikabi opened his mouth but closed it shut right away. It took him a few tries before he could get his words out.
"You're right. I'm just wasting time this way. I need to make a call."
"You just made a call."
"Another call. If this doesn't work, we'll try things your way and see what happens. I'm not holding my breath, though. I was trying to avoid it, but going to MBI in person might be the only option after all."
She smirked.
He picked up his phone again and began dialling a number. He paused every few digits as if struggling to remember what to punch in next.
Eventually, the device was pressed to his cheek.
Karasuba's face was inches away from his own. She stared straight at him unflinchingly. Her Ashikabi's face was tight– nervous, almost.
How curious. She was almost certain that he was calling another one of his "contacts" for all the good that would do him. She had no illusions of any one person's ability to break into MBI's databases, but this exchange was bound to be interesting if nothing else.
The line was picked up.
"Who's this? How do you have this number?"
"…This is Shirou. Could you put Fujimura-san on the line, please?"
There was a lot of noise on the other end: shouts, shuffling persons and the like. Whoever it was that her Ashikabi had called, they sounded like a group of headless chickens.
"I haven't heard from you in a good long while, Brat," grumbled a different, more gravelly voice. "What's the occasion?"
"…Sorry."
Strangely enough, he looked it too.
"Spit it out."
"I need your help. There's no one else who I can turn to."
"…"
"…"
He was squirming. How cute. Karasuba leaned into her Destined One further, much to his chagrin.
"This isn't an international call. Where are you right now?"
"…Tokyo."
"Don't be daft. Where in Tokyo?"
Shirou chuckled sheepishly.
"Ebisu district. At an apartment complex called 'Peaceful Hills'."
"I'll send someone to come get you. Be outside your building at nine tomorrow morning."
And with that short exchange, the man on the other end hung up. No other questions were asked by either party.
However, that wasn't to say that no questions were going to be asked at all.
Karasuba pushed herself into a standing position.
"Who was that?"
"My childhood neighbour," the man answered. "He's my last-ditch effort. If there's anyone capable of getting past MBI's security, he'll know who they are and how to get in touch with them. He only talks business face to face, though; he's having someone pick us up."
Pretending to be surprised, the woman raised her eyebrows. "My cute Ashikabi-kun has friends in high places, it would seem. Government?" she guessed.
"Yakuza."
She touched a finger to her lips.
"Hm… for someone like that… getting in will be fine, but I'm not too sure that a gaggle of criminals will have much success trying to leave with either one of us. MBI doesn't want any Ashikabi or Sekirei leaving Shinto Teito. Any who try to escape are dealt with by the disciplinary squad."
"The 'disciplinary squad'," he repeated, completely ignoring the part where she told him that no one was supposed to leave the city. "Is that what they call their paramilitary?"
Karasuba zoned out for a second, then she chuckled before correcting him.
"It's what MBI calls the group of Sekirei working for them."
Her Ashikabi didn't seem too impressed.
"You?" he asked flatly.
She squinted.
"Well, yes. Oh! And two others, I suppose."
"I see."
"…"
"…"
The man noticed the strange look on her face.
"What is it?"
"Nothing, nothing," she denied easily. "I'm just surprised is all. I was expecting a little more than an 'I see'. You've been looking for a fresh set of wings to clip for a bit of time now."
It wasn't that she had anything against Benitsubasa or Haihane, really. However, if throwing them under the bus would end the painful monotony of the past few days, then she wouldn't lose any sleep over it.
Or them, rather.
"Ignoring the fact that you've failed to mention either of them until now," he started, "if MBI is really using those Sekirei to keep their machinations contained within a predetermined boundary, then getting rid of them before the others would be to my own detriment. Having someone else keep the Sekirei from escaping takes a weight off my shoulders."
Karasuba rubbed her eyes tiredly.
"That makes sense, I suppose. Although, there is one, tiny little thing that you aren't considering."
The white-haired man closed his laptop. He was calling it a night.
"And that thing would be?"
She grinned savagely.
"I'm a disciplinary squad member, too. I have just as much a responsibility to keep you here as they do."
"As you've already mentioned," he concluded. "I'm going to bed. Don't forget your pyjamas when you come."
The grin dropped.
As fun as he was, he could be a real killjoy sometimes. He could have played along for a little while, at least.
"Fine. You'll need to wake me up if you think we're getting out of the house that early, though."
X
The pair stood in an easy silence as they waited in front of the apartment complex.
Or maybe not so easy for Shirou. Karasuba kept eyeing him periodically.
"Is there something on my face?" he asked.
"Mm. It's nothing. I'm just surprised that you left your suit jacket behind. I would have thought that you'd want to be dressed as you usually are for this."
He pulled at the loosened collar of his untucked dress shirt.
"I do, actually. Only, the suits that I brought with me aren't the right kind for this business meeting. There's no point in wearing the whole thing if I'm going to change out of it in a little while."
His partner squinted. "A suit is a suit, isn't it?"
"Usually you'd be right, but Fujimura-san is a very particular man. Before going to Fuyuki, we need to stop by a place where I can rent a kimono."
"A kimono, huh? What a hassle. Something like this is much better," she claimed, tracing the collar of her yukata-like hybrid dress with a finger. " Twelve layers just sounds unnecessary. It doesn't even look all that different."
It was a shame that she thought that way, considering that she would have to change too.
A new-looking black Mercedes Benz S-Class with tinted windows pulled up to the curb in front of them before he could inform her of that fact.
The driver didn't seem to care too much about the traffic they were causing to pile up behind them on the one-way street. Some dared to honk when the engine turned off, but all such noises instantly ceased when a large man wearing a black suit and sunglasses stepped out from the left-hand side.
At this point, no one could possibly mistake him to be anything other than a gangster. Honking at this sort of person was a good way to get yourself into a lot of trouble.
The suit-clad man stood in front of the pair and offered a shallow bow.
"Boss wants to… who's she?" he asked once he noticed Karasuba's presence.
Come to think of it, Shirou completely forgot to mention her over the phone. Fujimura-san wouldn't mind, hopefully.
"She's–"
"His fiancé," she completed his sentence erroneously.
His complexion went as white as his hair. She did an excellent job of making things more complicated than they needed to be. She could have gone with anything: business partner, employer, but no, she went with the option that would raise the most questions.
He didn't even need to look her way to know that she felt proud of herself right now. Was teasing him right now really worth it?
The Yakuza didn't bat an eye.
"You both need a change of clothes."
Karasuba's eyes were pressed closed.
"Oh? And what's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"If the boss is going to take time out of his day to conduct business with you, you need to look presentable," explained the man. "Kimonos and pre-approved suits only. Miniskirts and leather belts are for hookers."
Realizing that the conversation was about to take a very poor turn, Shirou chose to interject.
"There's a high-end kimono rental place in Shibuya. It's only a few minutes away from here, I think. We can stop by before we head down to Fuyuki."
Though he didn't expect Karasuba to be accused of being dressed like a prostitute, he did expect both of them to be asked to change out of their current clothes.
"That's fine," agreed the driver. "We need to make it quick though."
The back door was opened for them, and the car took off once they were seated. Shirou didn't know what to make of Karasuba's thinned lips.
X
Kiba had worked for Fujimura Raiga for a long time. Since the eighties, in fact; the boss picked up a no-good juvenile delinquent off the street, beat some discipline into him and gave purpose to a life that would have otherwise been thrown out the window.
That he'd been part of the Fujimura Group for so long meant two things.
First of all, it meant that he knew Emiya Shirou since he was pint-sized.
Second of all, it meant that he owed Fujimura Raiga a great deal. That was why he didn't mind it too much when he was asked to drive all the way to Tokyo to pick up the brat.
The kid had a lot of nerve, asking to meet with the boss after dropping off the face of the earth for eleven years. If only he knew what leaving like that had done to the boss' granddaughter. She was worried, crushed, miserable– all of the above, because her goodie-two-shoes of a surrogate younger brother pulled a one-eighty, skipped town, and made her question her ability as a legal guardian.
The Fujimura Group had fond memories of Emiya Shirou; that fact didn't change, but that sure as hell wasn't enough to keep him off their shit list.
For this reason, Kiba had every intention of giving the man a piece of his mind when he ran into him. It wasn't like the boss was going to bring it up, so someone had to do it, if for nothing else than the Fujimura Group's pride.
And he would've done it too if it weren't for that woman that Emiya had decided to bring with him.
Kiba liked to think that he was a pretty good judge of character; back when he was a kid, that's what kept him alive. Right off the bat, he knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that she was more than a little touched in the head.
Dangerous, to boot. She looked like a pretty little thing, but the way she stood –the way she was built– made evident the fact that she swung swords, to put it mildly.
Not that kendo, wooden sword bullshit either. Real swords.
It reminded him of what the boss used to be like some forty years back. Taiga was talented –she really was– but the muscles she built playing a sport weren't at all the same as the ones that were made from getting good at killing people.
And that was the crux of it: this lady definitely killed a lot of people.
She was acting all easygoing and shit, but he wasn't buying it. Her smile, her eyes, her everything screamed that she was looking down on you regardless of what came out of her mouth.
He'd seen a lot of that over the years: the arrogant yet well-earned look of someone who knew they could slaughter you like a fattened bird without batting an eye.
All of this to say, her relationship with the kid was totally throwing him for a loop. When she said they were engaged to be married, he really thought they were fucking with him. Now, after watching her try to make the kid as uncomfortable as possible by taking her sweet time trying on every god damn dainty, flowery kimono in sight, he was of a different opinion.
You can't fake this level of corny.
"This one suits me, don't you think?"
"It'll do. We can go now."
"Well if you say it like that, I'm not too sure."
"It's great."
"Hm… It doesn't feel right. Can you fix the collar for me?"
Kiba really didn't understand why she was so keen on dragging this out. Despite her words, her body language suggested that she wanted nothing more than to rip that kimono off her body as soon as possible. She looked like she was a hair short of having a claustrophobic attack.
He had enough of this.
"Let's go," he said. "We're wasting time here. What you're wearing will do just fine. If we want to get back to Fuyuki before sunset, we need to leave now."
"Ah! Excuse me Sirs… Miss…"
What now!?
Kiba glared at the timid man who ran the establishment. He had been quiet up till now –probably because he didn't want to step on the feet of the boryokudan– but something had obviously come up to make him feel the need to speak his mind.
The shop owner fidgeted. "Well, uh, you mentioned Fuyuki, right? That's where you're going?"
The kid answered.
"That's right. Is there a problem?"
"W-we don't do overnight rentals, you see. Our kimonos are incredibly expensive, so our establishment charges an hourly–
"How much for both sets? I'll buy them. Name your price."
Kiba was caught off guard. Did Emiya seriously have the money to be saying things like that? Those kimonos weren't synthetic garbage– he wouldn't have told the two of them to take a hike if they thought that he'd take them to see the boss wearing that slop. This place catered to individuals who needed something to wear to big events like galas or business meetings with VVIPS, not tourists.
The shop owner looked like he was about to pass out. He kept flicking his eyes between Shirou and Kiba.
"A few… thir– twenty-thousand yen for each, Sir."
Shirou frowned. "We're in a rush, but I don't want to put you out of business. Tell me how much you paid for these."
The frightened man shut his eyes. "Yours was purchased for three-hundred thousand, Sir. The young lady's was seven-hundred thousand."
Kiba could only whistle.
The sound was cut short when the kid took out his card.
"I'll give you one and a half million. I can write you a cheque if you want to deposit the money in a separate account, but if you prefer to have the money now, I can pay with debit."
Man… what the hell's he been up to these past few years if he could throw that sort of cash around like it was nothing? Emiya's fiancé didn't even seem phased; this must have been standard practice for them.
The store owner started babbling.
"T-that's too much! I couldn't–"
"Shut up and take the money," Kiba ordered. Enough of this.
"O-of course!"
And just like that, between his simple black montsuki kimono and her flower-covered furisode, they left the store with a million yen's worth of clothing on their backs.
The Fujimura Group's second-most senior member was sure of it: Emiya Shirou wasn't the same kid who grew up next door. The man wanted to see the boss for a reason, and that reason wasn't to catch up for old time's sake.
He could only hope that whatever this was about wouldn't cause any more issues for the boss's granddaughter.
X
"We're here."
Shirou heard the Yakuza's announcement and snapped out of his daze. The whole trip was fairly uneventful; he and Kiba made small talk earlier in the car ride –reminiscing and the like– but Karasuba wasn't particularly talkative. She seemed content to stare out the window blankly the whole way.
It was strange, in a sense. He hadn't pegged her as the silent type since she didn't usually act it, as far as he could recall. The result was a lot of silence, and not many ways to keep one's mind busy.
He got out of the car and looked at the sky.
He was more nervous about this than he thought he would be. The feeling was foreign enough that he had even mistaken it for having triggered a bounded field for a moment. But no, it was just his gut churning.
What time was it? Two, probably. Three at the latest.
"Hey, Kiba."
The gangster shot him a look through his sunglasses.
"Mm."
"Does Taiga still live with Fujimura-san?"
"Why? You trying to skip town before she finds out that you came here?"
…Figured that out pretty quickly.
The white-haired man scratched his ear.
"…I am."
Kiba nodded.
"Good. She doesn't know you're here– no one told her that you were coming. She doesn't get back from the school until seven. Six at the earliest."
Shirou was relieved. Even if his relationship with the Fujimura Group was rocky right now, it was good to know that they were on the same page, at least."
"Thanks."
He would be in the clear as long as this didn't take longer than an hour or two.
"Don't thank me. It's not for your sake."
"I know."
He followed the Fujimura Group member but paused when he realized that Karasuba wasn't behind him. She was staring at him through the car window blankly.
He made his way back up to the car and opened the back door.
"Is there something–"
She latched onto his arm and pulled herself to her feet.
"Thank you, Shirou-kun."
She didn't let go.
"Are you two coming or not? Don't keep the boss waiting."
After hearing Kiba's urgings, Shirou tried to subtly shake Karasuba off. No dice.
What are you doing!?
He would have liked to think that the fact that she still wasn't budging meant that she didn't recognize his struggle, but the way that she was staring him dead in the eyes with a subtle smirk told him otherwise.
This was what she wanted, wasn't it? To make him walk into the room while holding onto his "fiancé".
He didn't understand what she stood to gain from this look, and at this point, he didn't have it in him to care.
And so, after more than a decade since they last saw each other, that's how Emiya Shirou met Fujimura Raiga.
Kiba opened the fusuma doors. At the far end of the expansive tatami flooring sat a frail, kimono-clad old man on his knees. There was no furniture in the room; two rows of suit-wearing Yakuza members stood alert against the far walls.
Besides the men, there were only three things present: a cup of tea, a stack of papers, and a ballpoint pen.
Once they were noticed, one of the men standing to the side collected the pen and papers and took them away. The tea was left in its place.
"…"
"…"
Shirou would have liked to say that the silence wasn't awkward.
It was awkward.
Raiga stared at him –or rather, at the arm that was interlinked with the flower-clad alien– for a good few seconds before he cleared his throat.
"Good afternoon, Brat."
He sounded terrible. Age would do that to a man, unfortunately. It was very probable that the head of the Fujimura Group didn't have that many more years left in him.
Shirou was able to get on his knees mirroring the gang boss despite Karasuba making the effort needlessly difficult by refusing to untangle herself from him. After a bit of a commotion, all three were adequately seated.
"…and she is…?" the elderly man tacked on at the end.
Strangely enough, Karasuba didn't interject like she did last time. From the corner of her eye, she shot him a look.
…What? Did she think that he would–
He remembered that Kiba was standing by along with the other Fujimura Group members now.
He pretty much had to say it now, didn't he? He was trapped from the very beginning.
"She's my fiancé."
"Oh? You don't say. Are the two of you holding out on getting rings?"
Eurghk.
"It would complicate matters back in Tokyo," Shirou offered vaguely.
Raiga took a moment to sip his tea. It was not lost on him that neither he nor Karasuba was offered any refreshments.
"I understand, I understand. So how about it: what's your name, dearie?"
His partner put on a bright and easygoing smile.
"Karasuba. It's a pleasure."
Was it? Was it really!?
"Is that what you're here for?" asked Raiga. "Wedding arrangements? I'd be more than happy to give you a hand, but we're Yakuza, not wedding planners."
Shirou shook his head.
"No, not that. I wanted to ask if you knew someone with experience getting into large databases."
"A bit strange to bring your fiancé along if you're going to ask this sort of favour. Not exactly date material, I don't think."
Right. Because this was an absolutely terrible cover. Why did he bring Karasuba along again?
Raiga knew that he was hiding something. Regardless, the man took pity on him and moved on.
"To answer your question, I know a few people. Before I can give you any names, though, I'll need to know who you're gunning for and what you want from them."
"MBI–"
"Stop right there." Raiga raised a hand. "It's not going to work."
Shirou could feel the smugness wafting off his partner.
"Why is that?" he asked.
"Governments and large corporations have tried; money isn't the problem. Just give up," was the simple response. "Technologically, MBI is way ahead of everyone else, kid, and not in an 'our stuff isn't in consumer products yet' sort of way either. I'm talking decades ahead. Plural. You're not getting past their cybersecurity with what we consider to be modern tools."
The spellcaster closed his eyes in resignation.
So it really was a waste of time then.
Decades ahead of the rest of the world? That was crazy to think about. It might have been a poor consolation, but at least he knew what he was dealing with now.
He eyed the grey-haired woman who was still smiling blankly at his side.
Maybe he should start taking some of what she told him at face value after all.
As much as he didn't want it to be so, the best path at this point was not the one that he would have preferred to take. How disappointing.
Shirou bowed, his brow nearly touching the ground.
"Sorry for the inconvenience, Fujimura-san. Thank you for your time."
He got to his feet and pulled Karasuba up along with him.
Raiga sipped his tea again.
"Before you go…"
The white-haired man turned away from the door and looked back to the Yakuza boss. The old man looked at Kiba and raised his hand.
Whatever message was given had been received. The large gangster walked up to Shirou and held out his fist; he let the other man know with a gesture that he was going to drop something into his hand.
A car key was placed in Shirou's palm.
"This is–"
"I need Kiba 'round here when Taiga comes back. You can drive, can't you?"
Shirou nodded.
"Thanks."
"It's not a favour. It's just more convenient for me this way. There might be some spare 'company-owned tools' lying around in there, though. I forgot to take those out, so don't get pulled over by any cops."
…You're looking out for me, even now.
The younger man smiled.
"Right. I'll see you around."
He and Karasuba made strides towards the doorway. As much of an inconvenience as she was making herself to be today, at least she didn't act out in front of Raiga.
…Or do much of anything at all during the meeting, really.
He stopped in front of the fusuma and a pair of men in suits opened the way for them.
Over his shoulder, he asked one last question.
"How is Taiga?"
"Nun' yer business."
Shirou smiled. He and his "fiancé" exited the compound.
X
Fujimura Raiga watched Shirou –and the murderer hanging from his arm– leave his sight. His teacup was raised to his lips to hide his wistful expression.
"So that's the sort of stuff he's gotten himself into, huh? Dumb brat."
X
"I'm thinking we can get… hm… three a day? Four, maybe?"
Shirou kept his eyes on the road and ignored the woman who was playing with the fully loaded Beretta 92X that she had found in the glove compartment of the vehicle. Despite her earlier muteness, she had found a sudden desire to talk once she knew that he was going to give up on hacking MBI.
It was hard enough to stay concentrated without her constant shower thoughts. He had been driving in a straight line for nearly an hour now; Fuyuki's outskirts were pretty rural.
"We can iron out the details later," he told her. "I'll need to get a map of the city so that we can make sure to–"
He swerved out of the way just in time to avoid having the vehicle skewered by a spike of rock that suddenly burst out from the road.
The car was immediately abandoned by both passengers, despite it being a little more difficult than it should have been thanks to their restrictive formalwear. Maybe they should have gotten changed into their other clothes before taking off?
They looked side to side, trying to find their assailant.
They weren't hard to find. A woman sporting a snarl stood tall in the middle of the wide expanse of open road. Though not much of her body could be seen through the dark trench coat, her exposed head was accentuated by a bright white mane of curly hair.
Karasuba tapped her chin with squinted eyes.
"A Sekirei? All the way out here?"
Shirou was as stiff as a board.
This wasn't a Sekirei.
"Emiya Shirou," began the mysterious woman. "I had a feeling that I'd run into you."
He smiled uneasily.
"Sorry. You seem to know me, but I'm afraid this is the first time we've been acquainted."
She took a deep breath.
"I apologize for my poor manners. Please understand that I'm incredibly disappointed that I wasn't able to end your life summarily. My name is Hertha McIntyre, and for the past seven years or so, I've been the stand-in Second Owner of this backwater hole in the wall."
…So the association sent someone to fill the vacant position. It was to be expected, and yet that sort of thing had completely slipped his mind. He hadn't planned on running into anyone during his short stay, let alone a Clock Tower magus.
"How did you find me?" he asked, already knowing why she'd want to do so.
"Seven years…" mumbled Karasuba at his side.
Ah. He had completely forgotten that she was here.
….Oh.
Oh.
This wasn't good.
The magus woman lifted her arm. The earth started to crack beneath her feet. As she did so, she boasted, "It wasn't that difficult. I do take my job seriously, you know. I have familiars all over the city, so I knew right away when you stopped by the cemetery just a little while ago. I wasn't able to intercept you then, but I made sure to erect a bounded field around the city just in case you would decide to come back."
…That was impossible, wasn't it? To erect a bounded field around an entire city, let alone one as large as Fuyuki was–
He ducked his head in time to avoid a rock soaring past his shoulders.
Karasuba wasn't phased by the display of violence.
"Hey, Ashikabi-kun. What's going on, exactly?"
No time for that.
The ground beneath their feet rumbled. A chasm was formed within seconds, forcing them to jump away.
This magus was using the earth to attack them, but the way that she was manipulating it couldn't have been the result of an elemental spell. What it actually was he did not know, nor did he particularly care.
At the current moment, he was faced with a significant dilemma.
He was completely unarmed, not wanting to risk bringing a firearm into Raiga's residence. Karasuba didn't have a sword on hand either, for whatever reason. There was the handgun in the car, but reaching it at this point might as well have been impossible.
Their enemy was a magus who was not restricted in such a fashion.
As he pondered the issue, Karasuba had decided to take matters into her own hands before he could stop her.
"You're in the way," the grey-haired woman stated simply. Her hands moved to claw at the Second Owner's throat.
McIntyre's eyes shot wide open, not expecting the Sekirei to have been able to close the distance between them so quickly.
"Fýr!"
A decently-sized flame struck Karasuba like a whip. Though it wasn't solid, the shock from the sudden heat was enough to force them apart.
She was undamaged, but Karasuba needed a moment longer to recollect herself. Her lips were sealed shut. She appeared as though she wanted to say something, but she held herself back.
McIntyre had no such compulsion.
"I'll be the one to kill you, Emiya! And I don't know who this woman is, but she'll die too! Once Barthomeloi knows that the Magus Killer was slain by me, my efforts will finally be acknowledged. This filthy place will become the problem of another."
There wasn't any way to prevent it at this point, was there?
He sighed.
"Trace, on."
With his hands stretched out for all to see, strands of blue magical energy coalesced into the forms of Kanshou and Bakuya.
Karasuba had what could have possibly been the most vocal reaction that he had ever heard coming from her.
"Hold on, what the hell is–"
Shirou reinforced his legs and approached the enemy before he could hear her out. He threw Kanshou, which was swatted out of the way by a stone spike with relative ease, and swung Bakuya, which bounced off a stream of rocks that came shooting out of the ground.
The enemy laughed.
"The Magus Killer isn't all that he's cracked up to be. If this is all that you can manage– piss off, wench!"
Her boasting was cut short as she was forced to deal with Karasuba pouncing on her once more despite still being weaponless. Just like before, the grey-haired woman had her arm up and ready for some sort of strike.
McIntyre was not amused.
"Useless! You–"
Karasuba nabbed Kanshou out of the air right as it soared past the European woman's ear.
Shirou didn't see it happen.
McIntyre didn't see it happen.
The Magus' head was severed from her shoulders. A moment later, Karasuba stood with a foot planted on a severed corpse with a bloodied Noble Phantasm held loosely in her hand. Her expensive furisode was a complete mess.
The alien's smile was bright. A healthy blush stained her cheeks.
"Mm… Ashikabi-kun. There's a lot of interesting stuff that happened just now, you know?"
He couldn't break away from his staring contest with the decapitated head of Fuyuki's Second Owner, who was stationed here by the Clocktower.
…And who, in every way that mattered, he was very much responsible for killing.
His projections were dismissed without any care that one of them was still being held by Karasuba.
He didn't care if she noticed at this point. It wasn't like there was any point in hiding it anymore.