Shirou's instincts woke him up to the sound of startled gasps and moving chairs. Bleary eyes refocused, his high position from atop the table afforded him a thorough scan of the room from top to bottom. His face turned to alarm as he realized his unfamiliar setting; a tavern by the looks of the decor, plates of dishes, scattered food and a silent crowd staring warily at him.

This isn't my room.

Despite the dim glow and warm atmosphere afforded by candles and the moonlight streaming into the dining hall, the crowd's hands were already on top of their...swords, axes and staves? Since when did medieval weapons become the norm?

This DEFINITELY isn't my room.

Rising up onto the table he was lying on, Shirou was already on guard; Kanshou and Bakuya instantly traced and comfortably held in his palms, just in case. He lowered his body and readied his feet to a stance when he felt something soft that went squish under his boot.

"Way to go, buddy, it took me 3 days to make that potato salad, THREE days!"

Wait. What the hell?

Zelretch. It's all his fault, Shirou's sure of it. This must be another one of his practical jokes. He even went the extra step and dragged him to an alternate world, complete with a medieval fantasy setting that's all the rage with his classmates by the looks of it. Seriously, elves, dwarves and beastfolk walking and working in the middle of the streets? People adventuring and fighting monsters in a dungeon with swords, clubs and magic? Prana so thick in the air like Caster's Territory?

Damn him and his shenanigans.

At least he landed with somewhat friendly people in a city instead of landmines in a military base the last time Zelretch did this. Mama Mia was even willing to accommodate him after he made a fresh batch of food to replace the one he ruined, and when she offered him the chance to cook full time, well, it's not every day he gets to cook up Phantasmal Beasts.

Besides, Shirou knew his time here was limited. Either Rin would drag him back, or annoy Zelretch to drag him back. Until then, he'll have to hunker down, find a means of survival, and hopefully not get involved with anything.

Not for the first time in his life, nor would it be the last, he cursed his E-Rank Luck.

When Anya Fromel first mentioned Monster Feria to him, he had only one thought in head:

No matter which universe, the gods love pissing contests; explosive, volatile, dangerous pissing contests.

Mama Mia assured him that the event has been tradition for years; that the organizers have it all under control and he should just "get back to preparing dinner, I ain't paying you for lollygagging and chatting,"

"You're really tense, Emiya. Are you sure you're alright?" insisted May.

"I'm fine, just a bit worried, but no need to concern yourself over it," Shirou stated.

"Yeah well, if you want to talk, I'm always here, alright?" muttered May.

He smiled. "Thanks May, it means a lo-"

A loud roar reverberated through the streets, accompanied by screams of terror moments later. His smile dropped as he rushed out of the Hostess of Fertility, shouting back a garbled apology to Mama Mia for suddenly leaving in the middle of his shift.

Shirou jumped to the roofs with reinforced legs and rushed towards the noise and general chaos, all the while observing the wave of people running to safety. Tiles crunched before his feet and the faint smell of blood lingered in the air.

He arrived to a chaotic mess of stalls and bodies in the middle of a plaza. Alive, fortunately, their chests still rising and falling, but with heavily bleeding wounds.

Damnit there's too many wounded! I'll have to take down that thing before it hurts anyone else.

In the centre of the mess, stands a giant boar, tusks more akin to greatswords. Have to avoid those. Structural Analysis indicates leg muscles are tight and coiled. Fast speed and acceleration, but poor manoeuvrability. Body is dense, with a thick hide. High endurance and durability. Center of the body seems to have some kind of prana-emitting crystal. Possible weak spot?

I'll have to put it down in one go lest anything goes wrong. Kanshou and Bakuya won't do, especially from this range. Something sharper, faster, better.

Hrunting is altered and nocked; the sword humming, almost growling, like a Hound set on its prey.

Form the body. Ready the bow. Raise the bow. Draw. Fully drawn.

The arrow exists in the target.

Release.

Shirou dismissed Hrunting as he landed on the small crater left behind by its wake, next to the boar's rapidly dissolving body. Groans and moans of pain filled the air, reminding Shirou of his time running short. Reinforcing his body, he hefted each person onto his back and ran for their lives. He was headed back to the Hostess of Fertility, not knowing where else to go, while bystanders gave way in haste and shock as a mass of bodies zoomed past them.

As he neared said tavern, Ryuu Lion caught his eye, her gaze aimed squarely at him and his load of passengers, proceeded to make a follow-me gesture, and sped off towards the distance, broom clattering towards the ground. Shirou followed wordlessly, unimportant questions shoved into the back of his head, and followed after her despite the strain in his arms and legs.

Shirou kept following after the mop of green tea hair in the crowd, not knowing where he was headed but implicitly trusting her understanding look. By the time she stopped and entered a building labeled with a silver arm, he was nearing his limit, arms and legs slightly spastic and face covered in sweat.

He kicked open the doors of the building, just as Ryuu Lion came back out with a silver-haired girl with a nurse's uniform, concern plastered over her face. When he registered that thought in his mind, his knees buckled and he collapsed under the bodies.

Heh, they both look like gaping fish. Shirou thought mirthfully, felt the wooden floor slam into his cheeks and knew no more.

The touch of something cold and metallic roused Shirou, his dull eyes clearing back to sharp bronze. Clean white sheets and beds filled his view, and in the centre stands the silver-haired nurse from before. Judging by the looks of his patient's scrubs and the soft bed underneath him, he voiced the first thing that popped to his head, "The people from the stalls, are they safe? And the monsters, are there still any?"

The nurse raised an eyebrow, and promptly replied, "The monsters are all taken care of hours ago, and the patients are all fine now. Most of their wounds were easily taken care of since they were brought here so quickly. Thank you for that, Mr. Emiya. How about you, how are you feeling? Any discomfort or pain?" she stated.

Shirou sat up, exhaling a sigh of relief while structurally grasping his body and focusing inwards. "I feel fine. A bit low on energy, but mostly fine," he explained.

"Good, the potion worked well to clear your exhaustion. I recommend eating well and proper rest with no strenuous activities for the next few days, but other than that, you're free to go! If any weird symptoms start appearing, do come over and I'll fix you right up," she concluded.

"Thanks, Doctor..." puzzled Shirou. "Oh, where are my manners, Airmid Tesanare. Just call me Airmid, no need for the title," smiled Airmid.

"Thanks, Airmid," Shirou replied.

While Shirou climbed out of the bed, Airmid added, "Oh yes, your friend Ryuu Lion already paid your fees, and dropped a fresh change of clothes for you along with a message notifying you to return to the Hostess once you're awake," Airmid added.

Shirou nodded, and as he was preparing himself, felt his stomach drop when he realized:

Mama Mia's going to grill me alive for skipping out on work.

Her violet gaze drifted over her mirror, to the image of silver-streaked mop of red hair flowing through the crowd, his soul's brilliance covering all the other feeble colours around him, like the rays of a setting sun...dotted with...steel? She blinked owlishly, and as the realization settled, a tiny smirk graced her features; a face many would literally kill and die for.

My my, how...interesting. Such radiance, such beauty, and two opposing colours in one? What a rare treat indeed...I must know more.

Just as her mirror focused on this mysterious child, he suddenly stopped moving.

And stared directly at her eyes.

Her smirk instantly dropped as she waved her hand over the mirror, cutting the connection instantly. For a moment there, when his eyes somehow met hers, she felt the cold, sharp edge of steel by her neck. It was inexplicable, impossible, incomprehensible. For the first time in her life, she was utterly befuddled; eyebrows drew together in confusion and concentration, a slight frown marring her face...which slowly morphed to a devilish smile.

Ottar shifted slightly in the back, no doubt sensing her displeasure. He approached her, kneeling and ready to serve. A wave of her hand and a small smile directed to her most loyal follower, however, reassured and dismissed him. He must continue preparing for Bell Cranel. Oh sweet, sweet Bell. So pure and innocent!

Deep breaths. Deep breaths and patience.

Spilled wine and broken glass ruined the Fomoire wool carpet, millions of valis gone in an instant. Yet she couldn't care less; a replacement would be there the next day. Her thoughts lingered around the bronze-eyed boy and wandered towards his uniform, and more specifically the characteristic white apron.

The Hostess of Fertility. Well, well. It HAS been a long time since she last had a chat with little Mia.

That was odd.

Shirou had a tug in his gut, a feeling of predatory eyes set on him. It was gone in an instant the moment he tried to pinpoint it, but it was a sensation hard to forget.

A thief? A spy? An assassin? That makes no sense, I haven't been here for that long to antagonize anyone.

Pondering over his thoughts, he shelved it onto the back of his mind, focusing once more on how to save his skin from Mama Mia's wrath over him skipping work. Shirou fruitlessly brainstormed as he approached the tavern, and swung open the doors with a sense of doom.

"Boy."

He didn't dare look. Shirou's body was frozen like a deer on headlights; already feeling her stare burning holes through his head, her statement as if a judgment and an execution all by itself.

Why do I have so many terrifying women in my life. I'm not even in the same universe, and it's STILL happening. Rin, Taiga, even Sakura sometimes. Now Mama Mia too?!

Before he could get a word out, a strong arm grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and hauled him into the kitchen area. Snickers and grins appeared all over the faces in the dining area, accompanied with whispers of "Busted!" and "That's why you don't mess with Mama Mia."

Like a cat picking up her kittens, Mama Mia carried Shirou to the kitchens and dropped him unceremoniously onto the wooden floors. Blonde hair peeked out of the corner, grinning ear to ear, and informed, "Finally, you're back after running off to your little escapade! Tonight's been a busy night, go man your usual station. A lot of Far Eastern orders today; you're the expert in those."

Shirou nodded, and as he was standing up and fixing his uniform, Mama Mia stated, "We're gonna have a talk, Emiya boy. Meet me in my office later after dinnertime, leave the clean-up to May." May harrumphed defiantly, but a look made her sigh and nod her head, cat ears flopping downwards, long hair like a curtain around her face and gloomy air hanging on head. As Mama Mia turned around and headed back towards the main tavern area, May suddenly turned to Emiya and looked at him with pleading eyes and opening her mouth, "Emiya, can you please help-" "No problem." answered Shirou immediately.

"Oh come on, you know-wait what? You agreed already?" sputtered May, cat ears shooting up in attention. Shirou replied, "Well yeah, of course." May looked at Shirou as if he grew a second head, and exclaimed, "Y-you don't do that! There's supposed to be convincing and negotiation; you don't just straight up agree." Shirou just laughed weakly to that, and reassured, "It's no big deal, I'm glad to help. Besides, I did run out earlier this afternoon. Sorry about that." "...well, you do have a point, but now you're making me feel bad. Let's just split the work later; way too many orders tonight." May finalized.

And thus the two chefs returned once again to the steady hum of work and food as Shirou breathed out a sigh of relief; resting in the calm before the storm.

So. 6 years of reading fanfics, and I'm finally writing one. Any review would be fantastic, cos I got no measuring stick. Too much dialogue? Unstructured? OOC? Heck, even flames would be good too. So thanks for reading, and skadoosh.