Highschool DXD is owned by Ichiei Ishibumi and the Fate series is owned by Type-Moon and is the work of Takuya Satō and Kinoko Nasu, along with several other people who helped in the development of the series and the Nasuverse.

Chapter 3: The One who Failed

They called him the Magician of Time, the Blue Rose of Time. A Sorcerer that not even the greatest of the devils had been able to analyze his magic and defeat him, a wizard that was feared even by the gods and buddhas themselves. The only man of the modern world who was capable of killing gods.

Even if such exaggerated things were true, he had never cared about it. He had never cared about titles, reputation or anything. Although they proved to be useful some times at gaining information, 'companions,' and contracts with a good amount of profit.

Emiya Kiritsugu was his name, the eldest child of a twisted magician who only cared about his research, going as far as to kill his whole family, except for him who had inherited his powerful Magical Energy and was the most skilled in the understanding of his Formulas.

His skin was tanned and his hair was of silver-white, his eyes were of a dull grey that resembled too much to the cold steel of a blade.

And right now, he was—

"I tell you onii-chan, get away from that woman, that was probably her kid and she will probably make you fall in her spiderweb to force you to take care of her child before she runs to another country!"

Hearing how his youngest child was badmouthing about the one that had granted him a far greater version of his Magic. The one who had born with such powerful Magic Circuits that it had practically burned her insides, and if it not were for a few contacts he wouldn't be seeing her right now.

"For the last time Kuro, that old man must have been her father and the little child her younger sister, miss Emilya is not that old, there is no way she would have—"

Slap~

Kuro slapped his cheek, although he was hardly dazed as the resistance of his only boy was enough to withstand a kick from an angry Sella and not dying despite her kicks being strong enough to break boulders.

"Don't be naive, onii-chan! It's obvious! It's her child that she had in the days that her thot levels had reached a peak!"

Where she had learned those kinds of words?

He was pretty sure that no one in the household would dare to say such things and that pervert Issei knew better than to say such things... in fact, if Kiritsugu were to compare the perverted kid with the 'him' when he had first come to the house, he would say that the change was impressive. For a seemingly hopeless case like him.

Then again, he wouldn't be surprised if she had managed to get a hold on that young man's collection that he had managed to discover when he was putting defenses on his house due to the ask of Emilya.

The amount of times that her children and the rest of the younger inhabitants of the Emiya household— A household that was inhabited by several students of Kuoh Academy, most of them being children of his friends and acquaintances— had spent on the house of the perverted child was far too many for him to be comfortable with. Sometimes he questioned the reasoning of Emilya, even if the kid was a possessor of a Longinus, he was far too perverted to be allowed to have a weapon like that. A weapon that could, in theory, kill gods... in the hands of a hopeless pervert.

That was not a good combination.

If it weren't for the kid's innate kindness, he would have finished him off the moment that he had heard about him possessing a Longinus Sacred Gear.

Sigh, he only hoped that the kid would not corrupt his baby girls too much, his son, however... he was fine, even if it wasn't because he was far too innocent to even think about such 'shameless' things other than holding hands. Arturia was also the same as well.

Those two were... what had Iri called them... yes.

Cute, their relationship was cute beyond words.

"My, my, Kerry, I think that you are scaring too much Issei-kun."

Had he truly done such a thing?

Now that he thought about it, looking at the pale face of the teenager without control of his own hormones who was trying to pay more attention to his bowl of rice, only to fail miserably as his instincts forced him to look straight to his eyes, as if his body was trying to negate the fact that he was scared of his murderous gaze.

He glanced at one of the mirrors in the room and was greeted with the sight of the most murderous of his gazes, the same one that he had worn when he had killed Chronos, the Greek God of Time, and Duellona, the Roman Goddess of War. Or when he had taken the right eye of the Greek God of Thunder himself for having threatened his family, or when he cut the tongue— among other things that no one wanted to spoke ever again— of the Norse God of Lies after he had tried to seduce his Iri with his body. Or after he had cut off the right arm of the Norse God of Thunder after breaking all of his bones. Or when he had torn out the eyes of the Egyptian God of Sun... or any time he was in front of a god or buddha, especially the ones that controlled fate and time.

Such things were not to be left on the hands of such arrogant beings like the gods and buddhas.

Looking at the others... yes, they were also scared of his gaze, everything came to a halt the moment that he had started glaring like this. He let out a sigh and closed his eyes, trying to relax by imagining cutting the throat of the God of Mischief that had escaped his hands, a pleasant smile appeared on his face as he continued eating.

A smile that scared everyone despite the innocent look of it.

"The old man... how was he?"

Could it be that old vampire?

It was a possibility, the man liked to travel far too much for everyone in the multiverse's liking.

That had gotten everyone's attention, only three did not look at him puzzlingly for they had the same idea of who this old man was.

"Well, let's see, Ummm..."

And so for the next minutes, she gave the exact description of the original Kaleidoscope, the Magician of the Jewels, the Wizard Marshall Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg. The same mirthful expression, the same Victorian attire, the same grey facial hair, and the same cane.

"I see... that is indeed the one who raised Emilya."

Or so she had told him.

But considering that his teacher in the higher arts of Magic was a horrible liar, the most probable thing was that it was true.

"See Kuro, I told you."

He seemed satisfied for this, the first time that he had managed to beat a girl on a discussion, and continued eating the dinner that he and Sella had prepared. While Kuro looked at him as if he had betrayed her.

"Mou, we have lost onii-chan, he had finally been seduced by those fake oversized tits."

"That's not true."

All attention was fixed on the matriarch of the house as she smiled gently at them.

"W-why is that, mama?"

The rather shy question came from their older twin. He also looked at her curiously thinking about what could she possibly mean by—

No way, Iri you wouldn't—!

However his hopes had been misplaced and he already knew such thing, for the airhead Magician of the Soul, was someone that would always say whatever was in her head, no matter how shameless would the message be.

"Because I and Kiritsugu had checked that her breasts are indeed real and all-natural."

Silence, everyone stared wide-eyed at the husband and wife, as the later looked away from their gazes with a faint flush covering his cheeks.

Iri, stop.

No words came out of his mouth.

"M-m-m-mama, you co-couldn't possibly mean—"

"Indeed, indeed, when was it..." She took both of her palms in front of her as she looked to the ceiling while searching for her memory, her eyes brightened like stars when she found it. "Ah! I now remember it was on the same day that I met her, I think that I was a little jealous about Kiritsugu leaving too much the house." Stop Iri!. "The first time that I saw miss Emilya, I was really sad, angry, surprised and feeling betrayed, you know." Please, my children, don't look at me as if I were a sort of trash, I am not the father of Mash. "So I faced them, but then as I continued talking with miss Emilya, and finally considering how bad in his love life your father is, I understood and believed that she was her trainer. But I couldn't go away with empty hands so I decided that Kerry and I would have with miss Emilya a three—"

He covered her mouth before her jokes got out of hand.

"A tea party, where in the middle of it Iri started to touch too much of the body of Emilya."

It was probably the first time that his children were seeing him with a blush like this one.

And hopefully the last one.

But knowing his wife... he only hoped that this was the last time that something like this.

He looked at the rest and all that he could see were red faces.

Sigh... Iri, why did you make such a misunderstanding?

He looked at his wife as the perverted child passed out from a nosebleed, he frowned as he stared at the child who would probably die from a nasal hemorrhage.

Let's change the subject.

"And how did that child looked?"

... A minute and nobody answered, perhaps he should call their attention by shooting at the ceiling?

"W-well." Finally, It seemed that it was not necessary at the end of the day. "She looked... practically like a younger version of miss Emilya, only that her hair was not white but of a light red that looked almost like pink."

He stared wide-eyed— at least for his standards— at his wife who looked at him with a serious expression, a wordless conversation after and he got up from where he was sitting on.

"I am going to ask something to Emilya, please keep my food out of the reach of Arturia and Erica."

It was after he had set a foot outside his house that he had heard the thunderous scream of his youngest daughter.

"Papa and mama fucked with the thot!"

... He would have a serious talk with his youngest about proper vocabulary.

Once again, he walked in hell, however, this hell was different from the one that had given birth to him.

For this hell that he was witnessing was a hell that he had created. Now he was just looking at the demons of his past, how he failed to protect any of the people that he had once cared about. Issei, Fuji-nee, Mitsuzuri, Saber, Rider, Rin... Sakura.

So many people that had died due to his actions, due to him failing to do the one thing that he had vowed to do with an unwavering determination. To make sure that no one would cry and live the hell that he had lived through.

In the end, he had failed. His last attempt to protect the few people that he cared for and were still alive. Rider pierced by the corrupted sword of the Black King in an attempt to protect him. The Corrupted Proud Once and Future King that died by his hand when he had pierced her heart with his dagger. The pair of sisters, the youngest having torn in half the oldest, leaving her crying and in despair.

The only thing that she was begging at the time.

Senpai... I beg you, Kill Me.

He tried to make her change her mind for if he were to lose her... then nothing would remain for him, but nothing that he said or do could change anything. She only begged for him to end her nightmare. And so... he obeyed and cut her head off with the corrupted Noble Phantasm that he had taken from his former servant.

And then, he called forth its name, releasing its legend at the cost of his body.

Excalibur-

He mouthed the name, without any feeling behind it for all of them had died the moment that he had used the fading Noble Phantasm to kill the woman that he had gone to such lengths to protect her to the point that he had discarded his ideal for her. His first decision as a human being... and his last one.

MORGAN!

And so the world was dyed in the brightest of the lights, a light so bright that one was not able to even see the light on it. The corrupted light of the King without emotions.

And in his last moments, the only thing that he saw was—

"Illya..."

It was the little girl who he referred to as a sister who had saved him, after all...

It is the duty of the older sibling to protect their little sibling, Shirou.

He did not want that, he had disregarded his ideals for a cause that had ended up in a failure, the only thing that he had left to live for was her...

Please don't do this... Illya.

However, she didn't listen to his pleas, the pleas of a machine that had the sole purpose to save people... and failed to that sole purpose.

It was bound to happen... Shirou, please... LIVE!

"ILLYA!"

And so the one who had no purpose in life was granted another one.

He panted, his hand unconsciously going to his chest as tears streamed down his eyes down his cheeks. His throat felt fry and his heart became heavy, not only that but right at this instant, he felt like emptying his whole insides without any care for his health. He felt the need to threw up everything inside of him.

Then he started to analyze his surroundings.

He was in a traditional Japanese room, his whole body on a futon... although it was too large for his body.

How could this be?

The last thing that he could remember was him destroying the Greater Grail and the Evil of Humanity with the swing of the Sword of the Promised Victory. A swing that filled his sight with the brightness of the stars that consumed the darkness of the sins of the whole humankind.

And then-

His eyes widened as he took his hand towards his hair and started to scratch it while feeling uncomfortable. Could have all that he had lived— From him abandoning his ideals for the sake of the broken girl that he loved to the destruction of the Greater Grail— having all been just a dream?

He laughed hollowly, not been able to hear that his laughter was more high-pitched than it used to be. He laughed and laughed... until streams of tears started to fall from his eyes while a single phrase kept repeating many times in a row.

Thank you, Senpai.

He kept crying as his empty laughter filled the room for some minutes until he heard the sliding of the door in front of him and he froze at the moment that he was able to detect the scent of the one in front of him.

It was power. Pure and unaltered power.

It was as if a pure mass of unlimited energy of all kinds was in front of him and not the seemingly fragile woman that he was staring at.

A nosebleed, not because of having felt any kind of sexual response from staring at the body of the woman in front of him but because of the amount of power that she was detecting. Any Magus was able to detect the element and nature of any kind of being by using their senses, in his case, the sense of smell.

And what he was smelling now... he couldn't comprehend it, as immense as the space and power to the point that it was intoxicating. The energy that she was detecting was so foreign, so alien that even though he wasn't analyzing the woman in front of him like he had analyzed the Jewel Sword— Not that he could—, he could feel the same kind of response just by smelling her. No... this reaction was even worse.

He wanted to empty his stomach with a single threw up, not caring if blood came out of his insides. His body was tense and he was seeing red... not of rage, but because blood was sprouting out of his body.

Why am I reacting in such a way?

He couldn't help but question himself as he forgot of anything but the menace before him.

It was an extremely well-endowed woman of a tall height, which was strange, even though he hadn't been the tallest man around Japan, nor he was the shortest. It didn't matter. She had... a strange hair, as snow as white but that seemed to reflect the little light that there was in the room, making her hair look of an infinite amount of colors, as if her the strands of her hair were jewels made silk— If she focused more... the color of the hair of the woman in front of him looked of a silver color. Her eyes were as red as blood, like the ones of—

His whole world froze.

It's the same.

"I-Illya—...?"

He completely ignored the tone that the words that left his mouth were coming out of his body, that high-pitched tone that only had one other person from his world, devoid of any of that childish innocence that that girl had been faking.

His eyes were wide in surprise as the bigger version of Illya started to get close to him with the plate of food and a mug of tea in a piece of wood that was holding all of it.

He did not take any notice of the words that were coming from her mouth, all that he could do was to stare unblinking at the woman in front of him.

Memories floating on his mind as her eyes started to pour tears instead of blood as the woman started to clean his face. Memories of him spending time with the blood family of the man that had adopted him, that had saved him from there—

The man who was in front of him after sliding the traditional Japanese door.

He lost his breath and the whole world seemed to come to a halt at the moment that both of them laid their eyes on each other. Only the man in front of him was occupying his whole vision as he tried to recover from the shock that the man in his mid-thirties had already recovered from. He saw him talk with the same voice, the man had the same features, facial gestures, and gaze.

It was completely the same save for one thing.

The color of his skin, hair, and eyes.

Instead of having a pale skin with black hair and eyes, this man was of tanned skin with silver hair and eyes... it was as if he was staring at a combination between EMIYA and Kiritsugu.

"Little girl?"

He called out his attention, although he ignored the words to point at him with unblinking eyes and an unbelieving expression covering his face.

"Yo-you are—..."

The man was taken aback and he started to analyze each and single facial gesture that he was doing, not that he was noticing for he was more busy trying to figure out if this was a dream.

"Hmmm... miss Emilya here told me that you have been given the responsibility of taking care of you... however there are some things that I must ask you before I accept the request that she had given to me, first things first... who are you?"

He stared unblinkingly at the man of tired eyes and a full of suspicion yet kind voice. Just like the one that he had that day. He couldn't help but think. He felt like dreaming, his consciousness leaving his body and his heart beating so hard that he thought that it would burst out of his chest.

He moved uncomfortably in his seat, even if it was the slightest movement that a person could have, for someone who was paying much attention to every detail about every single movement of the man, he was able to notice as quickly as it had disappeared.

"I will ask again, who are you?"

After a few moments of not receiving an answer, he decided to snap his fingers in front of him to call out his attention. It worked.

"Now that you are paying me attention... who are you, child?"

Child?

He couldn't help but frown at the question. Yes, comparing to the others in this room, he was young, but he was not a child. However, he dismissed it to continue with the flow of this conversation.

"Emiya Shirou."

And with just two words, the man froze. He stared wide-eyed at him, he heard a gulping sound coming from his throat before he hardened his gaze to the point that it looked more like hard steel than soft flesh.

"How old are you, little girl?"

Little girl?!

Now, he took offense for that. He may not be the most masculine looking guy around, but he did not look feminine at all.

"I am a man, sir."

He couldn't help but frown before looking at the woman, who only shrugging as her crystal-like hair became completely white like snow. A familiar smell entering his nose but he was not quite able to put where had he smelt this smell before. No, there was not only one familiar smell yet at the same time completely different getting closer and closer, but there were also multiple ones coming closer.

"Now, little girl, I think that you are a little blind... have you went to the doctor recently, my child?"

His eye twitched involuntarily, the tone of the man was serious and the cold that covered his whole body allowed him to remain a little bit calm in this situation... if having your internal thoughts just being a series of screaming and breathing heavily. Sweat started to appear on his whole body.

"I think, Kiritsugu, that the question should be 'since when have you stopped being a male, little girl', am I right, young one?"

He continued to stare at the living incarnation of power. A mirror appearing in front of him, and what he looked on it—

Hmmm, your body is broken isn't it, a problem, a problem indeed... can't be helped, as the big sister, it is my duty to keep you safe so Shirou, I want to give you—

Her body. He was in her body, however, this body did no longer looked like the one of the child of the winter, the exotic mix of bright golden and crimson in the tonality of his irises was an obvious giveaway. The frame was the same, the same height, measures and features distinctive of the blood child of his father and not the man in the same room as him. It was the irises and the color of the hair the only thing that distinguished this body now.

He continued to like at his-her hands, his eyes started to get glassy before little tears started to escape.

He—No, now he—Emiya Shirou— assumed that he was now biologically a 'she' and so... should he start referring himself as a woman.

Thoughts for another time.

"Hmmm, I assume that that reaction can tell you the answer, don't you think so, Kiritsugu?"

Please, stop.

His heart ached every single time the woman called out the name of the man that had saved Emiya Shirou from that hell that he had caused. A man with a distant gaze yet a warm one... then why did this one felt so different. He knew the kind man that his old man had become after the Fourth Grail War, yet the man in front of him... this man had a different kind of warmth emanating from him, similar to the one of his old man but not quite the same.

"Yes, so it would seem."

The man started scratching the back of his head as he started pondering on something. Finally straightening his back before looking at him with the same eyes that the 'him' that he remembered the day that he had met him, and so he said the same words after a short sight.

"Well, there are a few things that I should ask but... would you like to go with this old man that you have just met or would you like to—?"

He did not even consider the other possibility, the moment that the first part of the question had left his mouth, he already had his answer.

And so, the child got off the bed silencing the man, just so she could later capture him with his arms as thin as branches, refusing to let go of this dream or this reality, he did not care.

"I would like to."

Infinity of sentences, infinity of apologizes being unable to escape from his mouth.

And so they fell into silence, which allowed them to hear the murmuring sounds that came from behind the sliding door. The man continued to hug the child as small as his girls, uncaring about the audience that was 'hidden' behind the traditional door.

Finally, one of them got enough of waiting, or maybe the girl that decided to slide the door was just curious and her innocent curiosity made her oblivious of the requests of her friend to return to her hiding place and not slide the door.

The sound of the door called the attention of the child who was restraining the tears from falling... however, he failed.

Rin. Rider. Saber. Illya... Sakura.

And so his whole world froze, not hearing the soft voice of the girl who had to slide the door to see the ones inside the room.

Tears fell as the dream continued, or so the little fairy of another world believed.

Information: For human Magi, their bodies are first-grade catalysts and the hair of a female Human Magus is a powerful fuel for their Magecraft... then how powerful would the hair for a higher being directly connected to the Root be?

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I will accept any help that anyone gives me :)

Until next time