An adolescent sat in seiza idly staring out at the open practice fields maintained within Homurahara Academy's school grounds. Wearing a kyudo uniform, the traditional garbs of Japanese archers, the youth appeared to be in deep thought, a bow left resting to his side.

This youth was Shirou Emiya, Captain of Homurahara Academy's Archery club after Ayako Mitsuzuri, the previous captain, eagerly ceded the position to him. After all, he had never missed a single shot with his arrow, and Ayako had high hopes for him to lead the club to a varsity level.

Strong was his will, and steadfast was his resolve and personality. Not once had he ever encountered something in his life that could stump him so thoroughly, and this was despite including the type of household he lived in.

"You stayed behind again? Then again, it's been quite a while since you did."

A voice woke him up from his silent musings, a hand reaching down to ruffle his short red-hair.

"Looking at you now, its as if you don't take any of my advice to heart."

He could only smile wryly at that comment, but that was because of matters that others weren't privy to. Yet how could he do anything else but nod his head to the woman before him.

"I understand mother," he spoke, bowing his head further for good measure lest his mother deduce that he wasn't, in fact, being sincere.

How could he ever take his mother's advice seriously when the majority of it was ludicrous? The fact that she had thought that it was okay for him to follow her into the girl's washroom without shame was bad enough, but she even had the gall to get mad at him for it in public. Matters only became worse when the woman herself, his foster mother, had somehow managed to find a way to be employed as his school's nurse.

Irisviel von Einzbern was her name. A woman with a free personality, and a woman that had spent a vast majority of her life within the care of her household outside of the world's view. Because of this, he couldn't really fault her for her lack of common sense, and could only inwardly pity the fallout his father Kiritsugu Emiya always had to deal with. Then again, he was the man who had fallen in love with Irisviel and took her away from her household. It was a story his sister Illyasviel was quite fond of too.

"It's that, isn't it Shirou?" Irisviel lifted her eyebrows knowingly, the movement enough to misplace a long strand of her shoulder-blade length white-hair.

He raised a brow to her odd actions, somewhat puzzled as to what she was implying. Then again, he was caught between filial piety and foreboding as everything was placed aside as he recalled the heavy task his father had burdened him with.

His lip twitched as he gave a quick prayer, a heavy sigh expelling from his mouth as his hands balled into fists.

He must burn it.

Burn it in fire and reduce it into ashes scattered in the wind.

Irisviel appeared completely oblivious to his hollow gaze as he contemplated how in the hell he would dispose of the nurse outfit Irisviel was wearing. It was a form-fitting white uniform that completely enunciated Irisviel curvaceous form, making her quite popular with the boys in Homurahara Academy. The black stockings she wore only made it worse as the combination of black and white was quite distinct with even her pale thighs flashing occasionally from beneath her skirt; playing into a boy's fantasies.

"Are you alright Shirou?" Irisviel seemed genuinely worried as she spoke. "You have the same expression as Kiri when he's thinking about his next job. Speaking of which, you wouldn't happen to know why he's decided to set up a perimeter around the school do you? There's been complaints from the boys about their 'precious items' being cruelly destroyed? You wouldn't happen to know about that either would you, since you're a boy yourself?"

"No," he said blankly. "Not at all."

Curses. There were more of e'm.

He smiled outwardly, but inwardly, he had already stored the information in mind and sent a quick text on his phone.

Thereafter, Irisviel's phone quickly rang.

"Kiri?" Irisviel spoke bewildered. "Y-You're what?!"

Irisviel's expression quickly shifted from bewilderment to alarm, before she quickly excused herself and ran out of the empty dojo of the archery room.

Other than himself, he was the only one in the room, having stayed behind after club activities to clean up after the place. It had been a while since he'd found himself doing the task, as although he was more than happy to, there was always someone else asking him to help out on other matters. With his principles however, he would hardly ever refuse; earning him the name of Homurahara Academy's Brownie.

The last time he could recall cleaning the space was the last time Shinji Matou was part of the club. Fact was, Shinji had been the one to task him with undergoing the job in a clear show of shirking off one's duties. Ayako had caught wind of it at the time, and through one reason or another, Shinji was placed on leave from Homurahara Academy itself.

Today marked three weeks since Shinji had left, and somehow no one really missed him aside from himself who considered him a friend of sorts. Then again, Ayako had already reprimanded him several times on his choice of friends, but he still felt that Shinji should be given a chance.

In any case, he turned down to stare once again at the practice grounds, bathing in the tranquility of the morning light that filtered in from the open windows.

That deep honey coloured hair.

The determination that was present within those teal eyes.

Thinking back about it now, it had been mesmerizing.

Unforgettable.

It was a transfer student from abroad, Britain if he could recall. However, he could hardly care less. It was just that seeing her join the Kendo club and then challenge senior after senior to formal duels, he had gotten caught up in her valor.

She was rumoured to be the transfer student that became Captain of the Kendo club within less than a week, usurping Taiga Fujimura's reputation as the most famous Kendo club captain. Thereby, wresting away the position of Homurahara Academy's Tiger to become Homurahara Academy's Steel Knight for the stainless-steel sword she carried on her person. That, and the other rumour that she did not have any emotions.

Cold, and unreachable to others.

His brows furrowed. That wasn't the impression he had of her on first sight.

Still, all this information, and he didn't even know her name.

Sighing, he knew that it was about time for him to leave. He had already finished cleaning up several minutes ago, and the room was shared between clubs. Therefore, he had a limit to how long he could stay.

The steady sound of feet shuffling against the floor echoed out in the silent room as he slowly got changed. No one was around, and he had stayed within the club room long enough to know that no clubs after Archery had members that would show up too early. Besides, this wasn't his first time changing in the room. It wasn't that he didn't like the designated changing locations; it was just that the area was currently out of order after a steam break in the pipes within the room. Therefore, the only alternative was a building located a distance outside of the one he was already in, and going there would take much longer.

It was just, he would have-had never expected to hear the sound of the sliding door at the moment he had taken off his shirt.

A woman was standing at the opening, her expression seeming neutral if not for the redness slowly building up on her cheeks.

It was the transfer student. The new Captain of the Kendo club.

Even now, there was still some gauss pads pressed onto her left cheek after sustaining a blow in her last challenge against the former Kendo Club Captain. Yet despite that, she was still beautiful. A tender face and a pale complexion which emphasized those large teal eyes.

Looking at her now, and not even seeing a single change in her expression, it was no wonder people assumed she was emotionless. However, he was different. Because of his father's work, he could observe and understand things many may overlook.

For example, it may appear as if she was not affected in the least apart from the redness of her cheeks, but it could also be seen that she had not closed the door yet because her body was frozen; the hand holding the handle of the door clenched tight.

"Hello?" He spoke awkwardly, immediately putting on his clothing.

"Ah," the transfer student shook out of her stupor and returned a neutral glance at him.

"Sorry," he quickly apologized. "No one ever comes to club this early, and I probably shouldn't have changed in here even knowing that."

"No, it's my fault for not knocking," the transfer student spoke before breathing in and out. Finally, she seemed to completely regain her bearings and promptly walked inside, closing the door behind her. The movement was accompanied with a brush of her hair as she used one hand to move away a stray lock.

She was already in the formal hakama of the Kendo club, only, she wasn't wearing her protective gear yet.

Just from the way she walked, he could see a level of finesse that spoke volumes of her upbringing. Even the sheath strapped to her waist making clinking noises after each step did not appear ordinary.

As she made her way from across the other side of the room, his eyes just couldn't leave hers. He couldn't understand it. No matter how alluring a woman was, he had believed himself to be relatively stable of mind. After all, the majority of the women in his life were far from just pretty. Therefore, he had believed that he had built up a tolerance of sorts, yet only now, it appears that his efforts were utterly useless.

Dazed, he could see that the transfer student was speaking to him after stopping in front of him. However, he couldn't hear a sound other than her name which was part of the first sentence she had spoken in introduction.

He just stood there like an idiot, not even knowing the situation he was going to put himself through next.

It was unexpected, and he didn't know when it happened, but a word was let slip through his mouth in his stupor.

'Beautiful.'

The woman standing in front of him stiffened noticeably; A slight tremble running across her body before she slowly pursed her lips and blankly looked around as if there were any other girl other than her in the room.

Obviously, there was not.

And so, the two stood there rooted, neither looking each other in the eye.

As the ambiance of the room gradually shifted into a delicate calm, he knew that on this day, and on this hour, he had met the woman of his life.

Arturia Pendragon.

Story Idea by Team Wicked Biz

P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious