The impromptu party was done, and everyone who didn’t live at the Emiya estate got back to their homes safely.

  Kiritsugu still needed some time to get settled back in, so in the meantime, I finished my Bruce Lee workout for the day. The program I have selected is 30 minutes of supplemental training.

  This workout has jump roping, jumping jacks, squats, some necessary stretches, and more kicking practice. I really appreciate Lee's workout schedule and routine because it’s focused on well-rounded physical prowess and ability. Due to the ck of weightlifting, I can start doing it now without any worry, though I do pn on getting started ter on. Since this was one of Bruce Lee’s programs it’s perfect for fighters. I'm really enjoying working it into my daily life and have enjoyed tremendous benefits.

  Thinking I’ve spent enough time, I go to Kiritsugu’s room and knock.

  "Sorry, Shirou, but I’ll be a bit longer,” he said.

  Huh, what should I do now?

  Oh yeah. I could do that.

  I head back into my room and search through the secret compartments I've made. Tatami mats are quite useful when you know how to use them. I reach and grab a book.

  The book is called The Bible. It doesn’t contain secret messages, repced covers, or cut-out pages to fit a pick. It is a Bible.

  It was more difficult getting one of these than it should have been. The less I go to the Fuyuki Church, the better, but I’ll have to remind myself not to ask a god to get religious texts from another religion. I still get phantom pains from what he did.

  I would’ve gone to literally anyone else, but part of my persona as kid genius and Fuyuki Fire survivor, Emiya Shirou, is that none of his revetions are religious. Great discourse has happened because of religion, so something of a smaller scale is entirely possible.

  It's not like I am praying for salvation or anything; I know I am beyond that. But there are still things worth praying for. So I pray, hoping beyond hope that the things beyond my control will be okay.

  I do my routine and head to the shed once I am finished.

  Shortly after I got there, Kiritsugu arrived. “What took you so long?”

  “Writing a letter. The curse is making everything impossible.”

  “If you want, I could write for you?”

  "Thanks, but that won't be necessary. I already finished.”

  “What was it about?”

  “Just some personal matters.” I don’t press, but I take note.

  ‘He doesn’t usually hide stuff from me. What could it be for him to not share?’ Regardless, it’s been a while since we st met.

  “So, what’s on the chopping block for today?”

  “First, how have you progressed?” I smile.

  I steady my breathing. “Trace On.” Four swords appear and fall on the ground.

  Kiritsugu picked up one and inspected it. One by one, he inspected them as if looking for something.

  “Anything else?” He asked as he put the st one down.

  I went to the back of the shed, grabbed a drape, and pulled it off. Hiding behind it were many melee weapons of different sizes and cultures.

  Kiritsugu inspected them. “Is this a good pce to keep them?”

  “Obviously not,” I answered. “But the renovations underneath the shed recently finished, so I really want to get things moved.”

  “So it did,” Kiritsugu rubbed his chin. “Damn, how much did it take to make it?”

  “Literally? Or figuratively?” Kiritsugu ughed.

  “The Muramasa forge is useful, but it’s far away, and the more time passes, the harder it is to get there. Plus, it was kinda small.”

  “Well, it’s good you have ambition because I have an announcement to make.”

  “Really? Then what is it?”

  “First, I have to ask, how do you feel about your magecraft so far?”

  “Well… To be honest, I feel unsatisfied. I should be able to do every spell within the Magic Crest, but something with the surgery went wrong, so now I’ve had to decipher the diaries for clues and forging techniques, which has been hard to say the least.” ‘And Gilgamesh’s commissions only improve my skills so much.’

  “I see. How much do you know of the Clock Tower?”

  “Let’s see… It’s the first branch and headquarters of the Mage’s Association; it’s highly elitist and discriminatory; it's located at the British Museum, has multiple departments of study, and is the rgest magical fortress in the World of Magecraft,” I listed off. Kiritsugu stared at me for a bit before coughing.

  “Well, I’m gd you understand both the good and bad of it then,” Kiritsugu said. “But I have been considering sending you there to study.”

  “Huh. But wouldn’t that mean I would leave Homurahara Academy?”

  “Unless you want to make the trip from Japan to London during your school breaks, then yeah.”

  ‘Crap.’ I thought. ‘This isn’t what I had in mind. The system I have for the Fuyuki leylines is rudimentary and, left unchecked, could spell disaster. Not to mention, I still have prep work I need to do and retionships that need to be solidified more.’

  ‘It’s not like I have a-’ I realize another method is at my disposal. ‘Double crap.’

  “Dad.” I start. “Promise me to not freak out, okay?” Kiritsugu looked at me strangely but hesitantly agreed.

  ‘Activating resonance.’ I inwardly chant. ‘Pnting seed. Growing tree.’

  I calm my mind, removing any excess thoughts from my consciousness. Then it cracks.

  I feel my being start to—no, me and Shirou’s beings tear. This process is usually much easier when it's just me, but cloning while possessing someone is much harder than it sounds.

  Eventually, the mana I’ve built is enough to create a second mind and body, and I eject it from me.

  Kiritsugu is speechless, and not just from keeping his promise.

  ““Tada!”” We said, doing jazz hands.

  Noticing that Kiritsugu still hadn’t spoken, we chirp up. ““You can talk now.””

  “Well, I, um, wow,” Kiritsugu said. “I don’t know what to say.”

  ““We know,”” we said. ““This is a lot to take in.””

  “Can you stop that? It’s really creepy.”

  ““Sor-”” We look at each other and decide who should talk. “Sorry. It’s much easier to share your consciousness.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Kiritsugu said before chuckling awkwardly. “I assume you want one of your clones to be at the Clock Tower while you stay here.”

  “That’s the idea.”

  “I do have one question though. How will you deal with the fact that you’re famous?”

  “That’s the best part. I won’t.” Kiritsugu tilted his head in confusion.

  “Emiya Shirou is famous. If not at a global status, then at least a national icon.” I said, walking around the shed. I grabbed a notebook and flipped to a page. “So, Emiya Shirou won’t go.”

  Kiritsugu looked at the pages before smiling. “Impressive. I don’t think I could have thought of something like this myself. It’s good that I can teach you when you’re here.”

  “Thank you—wait, what?”

  “Since you’ll be meeting a lot more Magi, I thought it would be good to start teaching you some of my techniques.”

  “I see. When do we start?”

  “Now.” Kiritsugu pulled out a pistol, a Glock 19, and handed it to me.

  I stay quiet for a moment to let the seriousness set in. I’m sure Kiritsugu wouldn’t have wanted to make his son walk the same path he did, but I’ll walk it proudly.

  “I didn’t expect to hold a gun so early, much less use one,” I said.

  “That’s because you won't." Kiritsugu took the Glock from my hands and disassembled it.

  “Your first task is to assemble and disassemble this gun using any means necessary.” I bnch.

  ‘I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.’

  (…)

  Damn, that ‘training’ really took it out of me. As soon as I hit the bed, I crashed.

  Or I think I did. You can never be too sure with sleep and the like.

  Which reminds me…

  ‘Where am I?’ I thought.

  ‘I must be dreaming.’ I first deduced. There’s always a unique sensation characteristic of lucid dreaming.

  “Get outta bed already, we got breakfast.” I sat upright and was greeted by Shinji, cracking a rare, uncharacteristic grin. “Or are you not hungry after st night?”

  “Remind me what happened st night again?”

  “Too many drinks, huh?” Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit, my vision blurred, and I suddenly noticed bottles in the corner of the room.

  I then proceeded to run into the bathroom, in which I emptied the contents of my stomach. Now fully awake, I walked out to be greeted by Shinji, once more with an unusual grin, standing next to Kiritsugu. “Damn, that excursion really hit you hard, huh? I thought you could hold your drink better.”

  “Apparently not.” I grimaced. “Couldn’t you have waited a bit longer for me to wake up?”

  “Nope,” Shinji said, popping the p. “It’s not every day the infallible Alexander is hungover. I’m gonna hold this over you for a while.”

  “I’m ‘infallible’ because of genetics and a healthy routine, something you share.”

  “Okay boys,” Kiritsugu said, stepping in. “Why don’t you eat up? Your friend will be here any second now.”

  ‘I wonder who it can be?’ The doorbell goes off, and the door opens.

  “Where are my favourite idiots!” Rin said loudly. I swear I hear a cheer straight out of a sitcom.

  “Sup, Rin,” Shinji greets casually.

  “Sup,” I said, before getting back to my food. Rin noticed.

  “Wow, you look like shit.” She said.

  “Alex finally got hungover,” Shinji said.

  “Impossible!”

  “Because of that, I couldn’t make breakfast, so prepare to be underwhelmed.” I said. Rin visibly defted.

  It isn’t long before I hear a “Hey!” from the kitchen.

  “At least gender norms are still being broken.” Shinji chirped up.

  “That reminds me,” Rin said, a devilish grin on her face. “Your old apron finally got done in.”

  “Oh yeah,” Shinji caught on. “We should probably get you a new one, on us, as thanks for all the good you’ve done for us.”

  “How about hot pink?”

  “I think lime green would be better.”

  “What do you think, Sakura?” I turned to see Sakura eating when she clearly wasn’t when I st checked.

  She stopped, realizing that eyes were on her. She swallowed, then spoke. “I like green,”

  “I think I’ll stick with what I’ve been wearing already. Bck.”

  “Aww.” “You're no fun.”

  With that, breakfast continued as normal. Or as normal as it can get with a ragtag group of individuals like this.

  It wasn’t long before I was washing the dishes since I wanted to help out one way or another.

  “Hey Alex,” Kiritsugu said. “Before heading out, you should probably fix your hair.”

  I run a hand through it, feeling a texture that should definitely not be in it.

  “Gotcha.” I run upstairs and head back into the bathroom.

  I take a whiff of my shirt and confirm my suspicions. Puke.

  I strip myself and head into the shower. I clean my body thoroughly, sobering me further.

  I dry off and put a bathrobe on. Next, I start brushing my teeth.

  I stare into my reflection.

  My tired eyes, not just from the hangover but from many sleepless nights.

  My hair, which will be combed before I take a step on the stairs, is a solid mess.

  My face is pale and gaunt. A clear sign of malnutrition and poor self-care.”

  I sigh, grabbing a comb and fixing my hair while finishing up with my toothbrush.

  I stare back at my reflection. I blink, and my pupils are much sharper than they should be. I blink, and they're gone.

  I rinse and finish with the comb.

  I stare into the mirror.

  I blink, and the eyes shift back, with a grin holding long fangs.

  My reflection grabbed me and pulled, shattering the mirror.