Tainted Fate Full

As full citizens. Testimony emerges from diverse experiences of violence and multiform exposure to risk and in various forms we must struggle to read; its fate,.

A/N: I suppose I should say that there's Final Fantasy 7 spoilers below, but if you honestly don't don't know them already, I'll be incredibly surprised.

Emiya Kiritsugu had had everything he'd ever wanted. A loving wife. A healthy child. A chance to fulfil an ideal he'd considered impossible, yet struggled towards anyway. It had been more than he'd considered himself worthy of.

He'd thrown it away.

It had been for a good reason. The Holy Grail had been nothing more than a tool of destruction. To use it would have been to go against everything Emiya Kiritsugu stood for, everything he represented. So when he was given the chance to bring back his beloved wife, and live together with her and his child, he'd forced his Servant to destroy the Grail, the instrument of her own salvation. How could he have done otherwise? The price for his happiness would have been the world.

And as if to mock him, despite his desperate search, he'd found no-one amidst the flames. He hadn't saved a single person. What had stumbled out of the wreckage had been a broken shell of a man. Emiya Kiritsugu, Magus Killer, was long gone. All that was left was a man who needed to see the last thing that was important to him.

His path to the winter country where the Einzbern made their home had been dangerous. He'd made enemies, too many to count, even before the war. They'd hunted him, but the skills that had made him one of the deadliest men alive had not faded, even if he couldn't summon the drive to use them for any proactive purpose. They'd hunted him, and they'd died. Not without cost to himself though. The curse that the Grail had placed on him grew only stronger, and his continual use of magic and strenuous physical activity only sped up the process.

Yet still, he'd persevered. And eventually, he'd reached the lands ruled by the Einzbern's. He'd been denied entry of course. They considered his actions a betrayal and wouldn't let him near his daughter, their pawn for the next war. Not that that had stopped him. The Einzbern's bounded field was impressive indeed, but he'd always been good at breaking such things and theirs was no exception. In less than a day, he'd pierced his way into the heart of their territory, and showed no signs of stopping, no matter what they threw against him.

Their familiars, their alchemical creations, their servants and even their own magi. They'd thrown it all against him, like a body trying to drive out a hostile invader. He'd avoided what he could and slain what he couldn't. But at a cost, always at a cost. If it had been a shell of a man that had entered the forest of winter, it had been fragments held together by willpower that had reached the castle.

He'd stumbled through its all but empty halls, halls that had been emptied to hunt him, until he'd reached a room in the highest tower, like a knight rescuing a princess. But he was no knight and she was no princess. Just a father, who desperately wanted to see his daughter. And a daughter, who desperately wanted to see her father.

He'd opened the door, and for a moment, she hadn't recognised him. When she did, her face twisted in concern. He knew why. Wounds dotted his form, and the curse had sapped almost all the remaining vitality from him. He looked like a dead man walking. But he was smiling as he saw the little girl dressed all in purple.

She'd tried to help him, tried to heal him. A useless effort. The Einzbern family weren't much for healing to begin with, and his daughter had barely begun her training. So he'd shushed her, and told her a story.

It wasn't a pleasant one. There were no happy endings, no heroes. There were just fools, jesters and monsters, who'd battled for a worthless prize, no true victory ever possible. A silent girl, who had followed his orders to the end. A dark priest, so very warped that he had been unable to recognise his own wickedness and then not cared when he had. A beautiful woman, who'd deserved so much more, who had become a container for the darkest of forces.

And the greatest fool of them all, a man who had thought that miracles could occur, that someone could be saved without cost.

He'd told her that he loved her. Oh, he told her so many times. She cried and cried and cried, nodding. She loved him too. He'd kept his promise after all.

As the last of the life that had sustained him slipped from his body, he'd whispered something. His purest desire.

'When I was young, I wanted to be a superhero.'

She'd nodded, tears running down her cheek and said:

'That's fine. You're old, so there's no way you can do that anymore. Just watch me pull it off.'

He'd grinned at that. Despite all the pain that ideal had given him, hearing the words from his own daughter's mouth made him happy in a way that he couldn't describe.

'In that case, I can be a little relieved.'

Emiya Kiritsugu left four things to his daughter. A battered gun. A handful of bullets. An old sheath. And a way of life that had destroyed him.

She thought they were the best presents he'd ever given her.

Kotomine Shirou sighed as he settled into his seat. School just seemed so surreal. He'd always enjoyed it, despite his classmates feelings on the place. Somewhere that handed out knowledge, that rewarded curiosity and experimentation, just felt right to him. If some of the teachers were dull, or strict, then so what? The library alone more than made up for such small inconveniences.

But the fact of the matter was that he was a Master now, fighting in a war that none of his classmates could even imagine, let alone ever be a part of. There was a barrier between the simple life he'd lived before and the reality of the life he was living now, imperceptible but absolute. He wondered if this was what Rin felt like, all the time.

He'd never embraced the lifestyle of magus, and had never intended to. He felt no need to present a perfect self image to the world at large, like Rin, perfect honour student and school idol, did. Furthermore, while he had enough common sense to keep his magecraft secret, he'd thrown aside most of the other 'codes' of magi. Partly because the idea of magi having a set of common rules that they all abided to perfectly was as ridiculous as the idea of herding cats, but mostly because they rankled in their intent. Magi saw magecraft as a research subject, knowledge to be stored and hoarded. To them, magic itself was both the end and the means.

It was different for him. He saw it as a way to experience new things and affect the world around himself. Magecraft was important to him because of what it allowed him to do, not just because of itself. They were both scholars of the art, but if they were philosophers, he was an engineer. They looked for higher truths. He researched and used his magic to change the world around him. It had been one of the many sources of tension between him and Rin, along with the bounded field and generator. She'd called him a 'magic user', someone who had the skills of a magus, but none of the way of life. It was apparently meant as an insult, but he quite liked the title. It didn't sound quite as pretentious for one thing.

Speaking of Rin, he thought, mind turning to more practical matters, I really need to talk with her.

The moment the lunch bell rung, he walked out, making his way to Rin's classroom. As luck would have it she was just outside, deep in conversation with a number of female juniors, all of whom looked rather impressed. Rin had that effect on people. People who didn't know her anyway.

'Tohsaka!' He called, and Rin turned, facing him. So did her newfound fans, all of whom looked quite annoyed by the interruption.

'Kotomine-kun?' Rin replied, 'Can I help you?'

'Yeah, sorry to interrupt, but it's quite important.' He gave a brief, apologetic nod to the girls. 'I need to talk to you about your suggestion to increase athletic club funding.'

'Oh?' Rin raised an eyebrow, then sighed. 'I suppose we'd best go somewhere else then. This might take a while. Sorry girls, we'll try and talk later.' She apologised to the juniors, then followed him to an empty room.

'So you've developed an interest in student council affairs now, Kotomine-kun?' She asked sardonically, the moment the door was closed behind them.

'Oh, you know me. I'm a dedicated member of the community at heart.' He responded casually. 'I've always got time to throw myself into the fire of your wrath for the sake of my fellow students.'

'So I see.' She sat down. 'So what's this about?'

Shirou looked her straight in the eye. 'I need to borrow some of your clothes.'

Rin's face was fantastically blank.

'W-what?'

'I need to borrow some of your clothes.' He repeated. 'Preferably nice ones. A selection of different colours would be good too.'

'May I ask why?' Rin spluttered out. Shirou frowned as he watched her. She was acting like he'd asked for something weird.

'Sure. They're for Assassin.' He replied calmly. Rin's face paled.

'Who?'

'Assassin. Wait, hold on a sec,' He paused. 'Assassin, could you come out?'

There was a moments silence, then a small girl, clothed in a T-shirt and a pair of jeans appeared. If her sudden appearance didn't clue Rin into what she was, the four knives strapped to her waist probably did. Rin's already pale face became alabaster.

'Shirou, you summoned a Servant last night?' She asked, her voice quite steady.

He nodded. 'Yeah. About ten o'clock. Why?'

Rin closed her eyes and rubbed her brow, as if horribly tired.

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'You know, I'm going to be a Master as well. Telling someone what Servant class you have is a pretty hefty advantage to give an enemy.'

Shirou frowned. What was Rin talking about? 'That's not a problem. I've never considered you an enemy. The War isn't going to change that.'

He watched as her face turned magenta. He'd thought about it before, but Rin had a wonderfully emphatic face. Despite her best attempts, she'd never got dissembling quite right. When they were younger, he'd even amused himself by getting her to break her perfect façade in front of others. The look on her face when she realised that she'd acted like… well… herself, in front of others never ceased to make him smile.

'I-I see.' Rin said quietly, looking away. Her voice trailed off to an imperceptible murmur as she continued. 'Well, I guess I've thought something similar on occasion.'

'Sorry Tohsaka, what was that?' He leaned in, frowning. He hadn't quite caught what she'd said.

Rin's face was now a blazing inferno of scarlet. 'Shut up! I won't say it again! I'll get you the clothes and even bring them round to the damn church! I hope you enjoy them!'

'Rin.'

'W-what?' She crossed her arms defensively, refusing to meet his gaze.

'Thanks.'

'It's fine!' She huffed, apparently calmed down somewhat.

'No, really. Thanks. I think I've told you this before, but you're a good person, you know that?'

Rin was quiet at that, apparently shocked into silence. Eventually, she forced her mouth open. 'No, I'm not!'

He raised an eyebrow at the protest. Being a little defensive there aren't you, Rin? Still, when Tohsaka was in one of her stubborn moods, arguing was as pointless and inevitably painful as beating your head off of a wall.

'Sure, sure. You're a heartless witch, dread emanates from you in waves, children scream at your presence, etc etc. Even so, thanks once again.' He turned to Assassin, who'd remained quiet throughout the talk. 'Alright, let's go, Assassin.'

Assassin nodded in acquiescence. But before she vanished, she glanced at Rin, a glare of obvious dislike on her face. It was the last thing Rin saw on the small Servant's visage before she went into spiritual form.

Shirou paused at the door.

'Oh. And Rin, we've done this before, but take care, alright?'

She opened her mouth to reply, but Shirou left quickly. As fun as watching a flustered Rin was, he still had to grab lunch.

Rin had been as good as her word. A quite large selection of his clothes had been waiting for him on the doorstep of the church, after his return from gardening. Some of them were even different colours from the red and black combo that his friend so favoured.

Oddly enough, Assassin didn't seem very pleased at that, eyeing the pile with a mix of disdain and mistrust.

'Something wrong?' He asked, picking the clothing up.

'I don't want to wear it.' She replied. He stopped, shooting her a curious look.

'Why? I mean, you only have to wear it indoors. No-one else is going to see it, if that's what you're worried about.' Assassin shook her head as he spoke.

'Not that. I just don't want to.' She had clammed up after that, refusing to speak another word on the matter and eventually, he'd given up. For now, she'd simply have to make do with his old clothes, at least until he could buy her something new. He wished she'd come to this conclusion before he'd asked Rin though. It would have saved him some trouble.

He walked into the living room, depositing the pile of clothing on a chair, along with his school gear. Gilgamesh had returned, and was once again enthralled within the world of Final Fantasy 7. He'd made some progress since his last save point, apparently reaching the Northern Crater for the first time.

He blinked in surprise as Gilgamesh paused the game, turning round. Gilgamesh never paused games, not for anything short of an earthquake or a determined interruption. And even then it had to be a fairly big earthquake. His older brothers gaze briefly inspected him, before passing over to the Servant at his side. Assassin dropped into a combat stance, knives flicking out into her hands. Gilgamesh sneered at the motion.

'Don't worry, Assassin,' Shirou placed a hand in front of the girl. 'He's my brother, not an enemy.'

The Heroic Spirit hesitated a moment, then slipped her knives back into their sheaths. Her pose was still wary though, and she watched the King of Heroes cautiously.

'Well, well brat. It appears you've managed to summon a glorified street rat. I don't know whether I should be shocked at your failure, or merely consider it par for the course.' Gilgamesh drawled, turning his attention back to his little brother. 'I don't suppose you want to get rid of her? I could go out and kill a Master, and you could make a new contract with another, more… noble Servant.'

Assassin bristled at the insult, her hands reaching for the blades at her hip. Shirou stopped her with a gesture, shaking his head.

'Thanks for the offer, but I'm fine.' He replied. A small smile crossed his face.'Oh, and be careful.'

The King of Heroes raised an eyebrow at that. 'Be careful? Of what? You don't think your little street urchin is a threat to me, do you?

'No, but you're about to miss the scene where Cloud is suggested to be a failed clone of Sephiroth, who's been trapped in a vast, crystallised materia in the Northern Crater for the past few years.'

There was a moment of silence while Gilgamesh digested what he'd heard.

'You little braaaaaaaaat…!' The roar followed Shirou out of the room as he grabbed Assassin and made a run for it. Given that this was the second time he'd ruined his brothers gaming experience in the last few days, it would probably be best for them to be out of the house for an hour or two. A second cry echoed out from the church behind them, followed by a blade embedding itself in the ground a few feet from his position.

Maybe a few more hours than originally planned then. Still, the frustration on his brother's face made it all worthwhile.

He supposed that they'd be eating out. That was fine, he knew a good Chinese restaurant. They did a great Mapo tofu, as long as you asked them to go easy on the spices.

…Really, really easy.

Lancer was in a good mood. He'd been summoned by an attractive young lady, he was going to fight in a war against combatants that could rival him and he was in an interesting country, so very different to his own land. All in all, it was everything he could ever really want.

Well, a few more girls and some drink would be great.

He lounged back against the fence, his Master beside him looking over the city. Bazett, for all her charms and the cute way she stuttered around him, was surprisingly professional when it came to the War. She'd insisted that they get a good overview of the town they were going to be waging war in, and he'd obliged, taking her to the top of the tallest building he could see in only a few bounds. He'd been hoping that the experience would cause her to cling to him a little, but if anything, the contact had made her more nervous than the death-defying leaps.

'Lancer, you should take a look at this too,' Bazett scolded, turning to him. 'Knowing the layout of the city will help you better know how to-'

'Already memorised it.' He interrupted. His Master hesitated.

'Oh. Really?'

'Yup.'

Bazett appeared a little embarrassed by her presumption that he was slacking, intertwining her fingers and looking away from him. Then again, she'd always been like that around him. Her crush on him was so blatantly obvious that he actually felt a little guilty flirting with her. It would just be so easy that it felt almost wrong to take advantage of it. Like he was cheating or something.

'Well, not like it'll help till we get into a fight anyway. And the way things are going, who knows when that'll be.' Lancer reclined back against the fence. Bazett had been a stickler for the rules so far. Not all the Servants had been summoned, so they weren't going hunting. If they encountered another Master by chance, then that was fine. They'd engage them. But they weren't going to join the War in earnest till everybody was ready. While he was annoyed that his long awaited battles had been put off, the idea had a certain element of fair play to it that pleased him. After all, the longer he gave his enemies to prepare, the better the match they'd be.

'Even so, we might need to make a tactical retreat at some point. This is the sort of war where even something as simple as knowledge of the local terrain that can spell the difference between life and death.'

'Wow, Master. I never knew that.' He drawled in response. 'Guess all that fighting in my life never taught me any real lessons in warfare. Who would have thought?'

Bazett scowled for a second, then shook her head. 'Sorry. I'm thinking aloud more than anything else.' She hesitated. 'I'm a little nervous.'

The admission surprised Lancer. His Master tended to project a businesslike air wherever possible, rarely showing emotions like fear or concern and speaking of them even less.

'That so?' He picked his at teeth casually. 'Well, I guess that this war would unsettle anybody from this era-'

'It's not that.' Her interruption shot across him. 'I have no concerns with regards to the War. I have you helping me after all.' She blushed at that, but continued. 'My worry is that you will find me somehow unsatisfactory as Master.'

Lancer stared at her for a long moment, then burst out laughing. Guffaws sounded around the empty roof top, and he wiped his eyes of the tears his laughter had created.

'Oh. That's too good. That's just fantastic. Look,' He faced her, face growing a little more serious. 'You're a good woman. And when I say that, I don't just mean you're attractive. You're strong, brave and loyal. You've shown all the traits that a Red Branch knight should have. Frankly, I respect you. No matter how the War goes, as long as you face it as you have, I'll have no complaints.'

Bazett watched him for a moment, as if trying to drag a lie from what he'd said. Eventually, she relaxed. 'Guess I was making mountains of molehills then?'

'Far as I can tell, that's not an uncommon thing these days.' The Heroic Spirit gave a disappointed sight. 'There just ain't anyone able to take it as it comes anymore.'

Bazett smiled. 'I'll try and correct that from now on.' She stretched, her form illuminated by the sun sinking past the horizon. 'For starters, how about we get something to eat? I thought I saw an interesting looking Chinese restaurant down there. I'll get some takeout.'

Lancer laughed again. She really is a good woman, huh?

'Now you're getting it. Grab me some of the drink from around here while you're at it, would you? If I'm going to wait, might as well sample the local flavour!'

Shirou watched the diminutive Servant pile away the food. No. That didn't describe the small Servant's talents to a satisfactory degree. She annihilated it. She reduced it to rubble. She was the force of destruction itself to the realm of food. If a curry was to be exposed to the force of a thousand detonating suns, then forced through the crushing gravity of a black hole, it might have rivalled her effect on the foodstuff. Might. It would up to the judges to decide.

'So you like it then?' He asked, amused.

'It is a pleasant taste.' The Servant said in between mouthfuls. 'One that I have never experienced before.'

It had damn well better be pleasant, Shirou thought darkly. He'd fought long and hard to get the idea across to Batsu-san, the manager of this place, that when one asked for 'spice', they did not in fact mean the that the refined flames of hell should be liberally added to their food. Nor that almost every other vegetable that the meal normally used should be replaced with red pepper.

He glanced down at his own meal. Beef lo mein. One of the few meals that had been safe to eat even before his frequent arguments with Batsu-san, mainly due to the fact that the recipe didn't allow for much, if any, spice to be added.

'Hmmm. So you've never had Chinese or curry before… What about Italian or Indian food?' He probed gently. While he'd decided to mostly leave the subject of her past alone until she was ready to tell him, the curiosity was still present. A few questions on foodstuffs weren't all that bad, right? Besides, he quite enjoyed seeing Assassin looking pleased.

Assassin shook her head. 'I have not tried any of those. I ate little when I was alive, and it was mostly plain fare. Bread and such.'

'Well, you certainly seem to be making up for lost time.' He noted, eyeing her almost empty plate. Her almost empty second plate. If this was going to be the way of things for the course of the war, his wallet would be all but screaming by the end.

'Is that bad?' Assassin asked, her movement pausing as she looked at him, the fork held in mid-air.

'No, it's not.' He shook his head, smiling. 'If you enjoy something, then enjoy it. It's as simple as that.'

The Servant seemed to consider that, then nodded. 'Good advice. I shall remember it.'

'Really? Rin told me that it was stupidly simplistic when I said it to her.' Shirou said, a smile breaking out over his face as he remembered the scolding. She'd been in a particularly bad mood that day.

'Rin.' He looked back at the Servant. 'That is the girl from earlier?'

'Yep. She's my oldest friend, and heir to the family of Tohsaka.' The Servant impassive visage distorted as he spoke.

'You should not associate with her.' It was phrased as a statement. 'She is to be a Master. She will be your enemy.'

'I don't think so.' He replied. The way she'd said that had been strange, like she'd been trying to convince him. 'Rin and I have been through too much to start going for each others throats over something like the Holy Grail. In fact, once she's summoned a Servant, we'll probably join forces.'

'That would be pointless.' Assassin's voice was cold as she spoke, the ever-moving fork placed down on the table. 'Only one Master and Servant can hold the Grail. It cannot be shared. You may be able to cooperate for now. But in time you will strike the other.'

'We'll find a way round that,' He said firmly. 'Truth be told, I don't think either of us really care for the Grail that much.'

'That may be the case now. But it will change.' The small Servant stood up from her seat, facing him. When she stood, she was almost as tall as he was seated. 'You will have to be on guard against her. If you are not, then I shall be.'

'And how exactly are you planning to be on guard?' He asked, expression cooling as he met his Servant's gaze.

'Should she try to harm you, I will kill her. Should she approach you without warning, I will kill her. Should she threaten you, I will kill her. Should she hide information from you, I will kill her. Should-' A feverish light was in the Assassin's blue eyes as she spoke, her fingers twitching slightly, as if grasping a knife.

'I get the feeling you don't like Rin much.' He interrupted, voice heavy with sarcasm.

'I don't.' Assassin replied flatly. He waited for a moment, but the Servant didn't elaborate.

'Any particular reason why…?' He inquired, trying to draw an explanation out of her. He was beginning to find the aggressive stance Assassin was taking with regards to Rin more than a little worrying. Having my Servant trying to kill my best friend is one experience I could do without, he thought dryly.

'You are too close to her. Your judgement is being impaired.' He stared at her for a moment, then shook his head in resignedly.

'Alright, I understand your point. I don't agree with it, and I'm not going to start planning how to kill Rin, but I get it.'

'Then you will cut contact with her?' That same feverish look was back in her eyes as she leaned forward. Shirou shrugged.

'I don't intend to do that. For the moment, I don't have any particular plans with regards to how to deal with each individual Master. But,' He paused for effect, then continued speaking. 'I'm not going to kill Rin. That won't change, even if she does decide to seize the Grail.'

Assassin's face distorted once more, anger twisting it into an almost feral expression. 'Why? Why do you value her so highly?'

'Because she's my friend, and thus important to me.' He replied simply. 'And I intend to protect what's important to me during this war. That's all.'

The Servant stopped, seemingly considering what he'd said. Her eyes closed as she fell into thought. 'At the least, will you be ready to combat her? Should circumstances call for it?'

Shirou hesitated. It wasn't really something he even wanted to think about, but Assassin had a point. There was the possibility that Rin might be coerced or compelled into fighting him. Eventually, he nodded. 'If it comes to it, I'll fight her. But it won't. And even if by some chance it does, I won't kill her.' He emphasised that last past firmly. Finally, Assassin relaxed a little.

'That will have to do.' She sat back in her chair, grabbing her fork and attacking her now cool food.

He couldn't help but feel that she was stabbing the curry a little harder than necessary.

Assassin felt an anger bubbling beneath her impassive exterior. Her Master was truly kind. Too kind. He trusted people he should not, even in circumstances that all but declared their impending betrayal. This 'Rin' was just one example of this. The anger within thrashed like a snake at the thought of the girl…

Who was the girl to interfere with her Master? In the Holy Grail War, the only person a Master could trust was their Servant. All others were suspect. The only person Shirou should trust in was her. The only person Shirou should be kind to was her. She remembered his face when he'd admitted that he'd enjoyed sleeping next to her. No one else should be allowed to see that face.

She realized she was being irrational. Shirou knew more about Rin than she did, had a far deeper emotional connection with the magus than he did with her. He would know better than her if Rin could truly be trusted. That thought just made her angrier.

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No, she decided, Rin couldn't be left alone. She would betray Shirou, and Assassin would not allow Shirou to feel the sting of betrayal from one he considered a friend. So the solution was simple. She'd kill Rin. She'd have to change her technique a little. As much as she would have liked to repeat the style of her Whitechapel murders on the flesh of that girl, it would be a road sign to her once Shirou figured out who she was. So she'd make it look like an accident. Rin would slip, and fall down the stairs, and die. It would be that simple. All she needed was a few minutes in which Shirou was distracted and she could make it so. He'd never even realise that she'd been gone.

The thought warmed her a little, and she turned her attention back to her meal. Or tried to.

A warning rang across her mind, her senses detecting the presence of one like her, a spirit from another time. She stiffened, turning to her Master.

'Shirou. There is an enemy approaching.' Shirou stopped, putting his cutlery back down on the table.

'Never a dull moment…' He sighed. 'Do they know we're here?'

She nodded. 'I was not hiding my presence. A mistake.' He shook his head.

'Don't worry about it. I wasn't exactly combat ready myself. What are they doing now?'

She focused, letting her sense reach out to the presence of the other Servant. It hadn't moved.

'They are waiting.' She answered. Shirou sighed again at that, exasperation clear in his voice.

'Well, I guess that's about as clear to an invitation as we're ever going to get.' He stood, depositing some money on the table. 'You ready for a fight, Assassin?'

'Yes, Shirou.' And she was. She'd show him that he didn't need Rin to win.

She'd show him that he didn't need anyone but her.

Tohsaka Rin was not a happy magus. The moment she'd returned, she'd begun preparations to summon a Servant. If Shirou had called his, then there likely few places left in the War. The idea of missing the Holy Grail War, simply due to not summoning a Servant in time, was just too ludicrous to be contemplated.

The summoning itself had been a perfect success, a digital alarm clock that Shirou had bought for her some time ago alerting her to the time to perform the ritual. Well, nearly a perfect success. She hadn't gotten Saber, which had been her hope, but the Servant she'd summoned seemed powerful, if eccentric.

The woman had reclined on the sofa, a coat as red as her hair wrapped around her tall, well-developed body. She'd pulled a pipe out from somewhere, and was smoking it in a relaxed manner, occasionally sending perfectly formed rings into the air.

'So, are you going to tell me who you are?' Rin asked calmly, her perfect smile concealing the growing annoyance within her. First impressions are everything after all. Not that this idiot seems to know that.

'Ah. I suppose I should,' The Servant drawled, pulling herself up. 'I'm Francis Drake, Rider of this War.'

Apparently satisfied with her efforts, Rider slumped back down onto the chair, taking a long draw on her pipe as she did so.

'Wait…' Rin held out a hand to stop the Servant. 'Francis Drake? As in Sir Francis Drake, the privateer?'

'That's the biscuit.' Rider agreed cheerily.

'But Sir Francis Drake was a man!' Rin exclaimed, shaking her head in denial. 'There's historical records of him!'

'Well, I can't speak for those,' Rider said, taking another puff. 'But I certainly don't remember ever having a rod and tackle. Now, I can remember enjoying more than a few of them, but-'

'You can stop there!' Rin shrieked, a blush covering her face.

'I did tend to hide my gender as a prank for Lizzie.' Rider mused. 'Maybe I was better at it than I thought?'

Rin rubbed her brow. The idea that such a huge portion of history could be so very wrong due to a prank was ridiculous. Yet looking at the woman in front of her, she found herself able to believe it.

'Well, whatever.' She dismissed it. Whatever her Servant's unusual origins, the more important part was how they'd work together. 'I need to know more about you if we're going to be fighting in this War.'

'Oh?' A lopsided smile crossed the Servant's face. 'You want to know about moi? Well, I'm a hedonist at heart. My favourite thing is spending money and my personal motto is 'Gold coins should be used up like a storm!'. Furthermore, I really like drinking-'

'That's not what I mean,' Rin said exasperatedly. 'I mean, what kind of abilities do you-'

She stopped. Wait a minute, what did she just say?

'Rider, could you repeat that last bit for me?' The Servant gave her a curious stare.

'Sure. I really like drink-'

'Not that bit,' Rin interrupted. 'The part before.'

'Oh. Well, I really like spending money and my motto is that 'Gold coins should be used up like a storm!'.' The Servant looked around appreciatively. 'Y'know, now that I get a look at this place, it's pretty nice. You must be fairly well off, right?'

The greedy expression in Rider's eye granted a greater terror than Tohsaka Rin had experienced for a long time. By some strange quirk of fate, the magus nicknamed 'The Miser of Fuyuki' (by Shirou) had summoned her natural enemy: A frivolous spender.

-End-