God I was bad when I wrote this. Still, once first fic, forever first fic. POSTAN
Fate/Stay Mad
Written by: A Room Full Of Monkeys
X=X=X=X
Shirou was in the dojo, pondering something.
He had gotten in trouble for it before, sure, but the more he thought about it, the more he figured he needed it.
A sure-kill finishing move, of course.
Saber had dismissed the idea when he first asked her, but… She was guilty of having her own finishing move, was she not? Assassin had tsubame gaeshi, Lancer had Gae Bolg, Rider had Bellerophon and even Gilgamesh, in his horde of treasures, had one that surpassed the others; Enuma Elish.
Even his human teacher, Kuzuki Souichirou, had his own finishing move. And Shirou didn’t even want to think about Bazett.
That’s when it hit him: he should ask all of the servants (excluding saber, as she already dismissed him) about obtaining a finishing move.
And so, Shirou’s quest for a finishing move BEGINS!
Assassin’s tutelage:
Shirou started with the easiest servant to locate: Assassin
“So, boy, I suppose there is a good reason for your visit today?”
Calm as always, Assassin was leaning against the temple gate, monohoshisao on his back. He didn’t even open his eyes when Shirou finally climbed all the steps to reach him. Good, a teacher has to be calm and composed, Shirou thought.
“Actually, I need your help. I need to learn an ultimate attack. Something on par with the noble phantasms of the other servants, or Tsubame Gaeshi. Seeing as you’re the only one that relies on pure skill, I thought I should ask you first.”
“Shirou Emiya, is there anything you truly hate?” Shirou said nothing, so Assassin continued. “I really hate birds. They would harass me every day, and every day I would try to slash them away. Eventually, I bent space-time and gave to them what was coming. That is my advice. Try hitting something you hate until you bend space-time.”
Shirou thought about this. What did he hate? Then it hit him. He knew what to swing at until space and time bent to his will.
Hours later:
“Geez, Shirou, why on earth did you try hitting Archer?”
Rin Tohsaka may have sounded concerned over Shirou’s bandage covered body, but Shirou knew better: she found the entire situation amusing.
“Assassin said that if I swing at something I hate every day, I’ll eventually bend space-time and obtain my super technique.”
Rin eventually asphyxiated and passed out, after a fair bit of laughter.
Rider’s tutelage:
“A… super technique?”
“Right. A sure kill move. A trump card. Something awesome and badass that will allow me to defeat Archer.”
So his goal had changed a bit, but he could not be blamed for this. Even with Avalon, his previous condition left him out of the war for 2 days. He wanted REVENGE.
“Well…” Medusa thought for a second. She was a person that had brought on the envy of the gods, eventually became a famed and feared monster (The source of her legend) to protect her sisters, but lost her sanity and killed her own sisters.
She really didn’t think she was the best source of advice when it came to obtaining power.
“Protect what you love, Emiya Shirou, and you have the power you desire. But, keep yourself from becoming drunk with power, or else you will find yourself destroying what you love.”
She had a sad look on her face, and Shirou felt ashamed of his current motivation. Defeat Archer? No, Shirou wanted to protect everyone. That’s why he wanted power.
“Thank you, Rider, you helped put my head on straight again. I’ll keep your words in mind in the future.”
And rider waved him away, her sad smile replaced with one of… pride?
Shirou felt his resolve swell as he returned home, keeping rider’s words in his head. Protect what you love, and you will obtain the power you desire.
And all that resolve was turned to anger and hatred when he saw Archer in his kitchen. HIS kitchen. The only ones allowed in there are those that he allows in there.
Archer (Along with Kotomine and Gilgamesh) was one of the people NOT allowed in his kitchen. Anyone else (apart from Kotomine and Girugamesh) was fine, just not Archer! (Along with Kotomine and Gurugamesh)
Protect what you love.
Those words resonated in his head as he walked up to Archer in the kitchen.
“What’s this, Emiya Shirou? So eager to try again?”
His voice was smug. He knew how much his (Or Kotomine’s or Gargamel’s) presence was not wanted in Shirou’s kitchen. And he reveled in the fact he was pissing off his younger self.
“Out.” It was a low sound, almost a whisper, yet even Saber and Rin in the dining room could hear his commanding tone. His voice now was that of a lion’s, driving fear into every living thing.
Yet if Emiya Shirou was a lion, then Archer was a dragon.
“Make me, boy.”
That drove Emiya Shirou over the edge.
Protect what you love, and you will have the power you desire.
Suddenly, Emiya Shirou was surrounded by kitchen utensils of all kinds. Meat knives, cheese knives, butter knives, ladles, frying pans, spatulas. Anything belonging in a kitchen was surrounding him, and he felt his love empower him.
Super Technique! TRUE KITCHEN BLADEWORKS
All the utensils aimed at Archer fired, only for Archer to laugh.
“Weak! You’re Weak, Emiya Shirou!”
Ultimate technique! FIVE STAR KITCHEN BLADEWORKS
Every one of Shirou’s projections, made of love and care, were destroyed by the callous archer’s high quality projections, obtained through cooking experience lasting decades longer than Shirou’s. His ladles were crushed, his knives broken and his frying pans destroyed.
Not only that, but Archer, one of the few people (Along with Kotomine and Gary) Shirou had sworn to keep away from the kitchen, now made it his stronghold. A crushing defeat and Shirou couldn’t even bear to show his face to Rin and Saber out of shame and humiliation.
“I’ll get you for this eventually, Archer! Wash your neck and wait for me!”
And so Emiya Shirou ran from his house, intent on learning an ultimate move that would allow him to obtain his kitchen once more.
Berserker’s tutelage:
“You know” Said Sella, not really caring “You’re going to die.”
“This is a comedy fic! No one dies!” Answered Shirou, the fires of hatred burning bright within him. “Besides, for my kitchen, I would give my life twenty times over!”
Sella could understand that, being a maid. If some random man came into the mansion and took over the kitchen, it wouldn’t matter if the food he made was superior. She would still try to force him out by any means.
Except perhaps by fighting Berserker for training, like Shirou had suggested.
“People learn to fight by fighting! Ergo, if I fight the strongest servant there is, Berserker, I’ll get stronger really quickly! And then, that bastard of an archer… he’ll be kicked out of the kitchen! No, kicked out of the house!”
“Go, onii-chan, I’ll be cheering for you!” Ilyasviel cheerily added to Shirou’s mad musings.
“Thank you, Ilya! Now, berserker, let’s do this!”
He turned to the dark skinned giant, projected kanshou and bakuya, and charged towards the greatest hero Greece had ever known.
Two seconds later, Shirou was face-down on the floor in a pool of his own blood.
Sella suppressed a snicker.
“Onii-chan! Get up!” He didn’t even twitch. So much for no deaths in a comedy fic, Sella thought. “Think of your kitchen, onii-chan! And think of me, Sella and Leysritt eating the food and telling you it’s delicious!”
He did more than twitch. On broken legs, he stood firm. With broken arms, he held a ladle and a frying pan. With a broken heart, he felt love for his kitchen and hate for archer.
With a broken mind, he saw Archer’s face instead of berserker’s.
The battle now was more than fair.
Wiseup!
New skills:
Battle continuation EX
Mad enhancement (against archer) A++
X=X=X=X=X
Caster’s Tutelage:
Shirou had thought of asking Caster, but immediately repressed that thought (on account of it being a bad idea) and asked his teacher Kuzuki Souichirou instead.
“Very well, I can train you to obtain a technique to defeat servants, as I have done.” The teacher flatly replied.
“Really? So I can drive Archer out of my kitchen and take my house, my love and my honor back from his filthy hands?”
Shirou was excited. Someone with true skills was willing to teach him! And then, he would show that filthy Archer who was the king of the kitchen.
“Yes, it should only take about two years of teaching.”
Hopes and Dreams were taking a train to a place called Crushed.
“I… I don’t have that long to wait, sensei…”
“Ah, then I apologize.”
And Kuzuki Souichirou walked off, like the cool guy that he was, to go do cool guy errands. And behind him, right next to where Shirou was standing, a car exploded. But he didn’t look, because he was that cool.
Shirou, on the other hand, survived thanks to his battle continuation EX, which didn’t allow him to die yet because he was the butt of the author’s jokes.
He also somehow blamed the incident on Archer, which fed his need for revenge.
Lancer’s Tutelage:
“Shirou, please come home. Archer already said he’d give you back the kitchen.”
Saber was worrying for her master greatly. And when she found him down at the docks, about to strike up a conversation with Lancer, who had recently stabbed his heart, she found herself worrying for her master’s sanity.
“He didn’t say that out of sympathy, Saber. He just wants me to grovel at his feet and beg to have the kitchen back. He just wants the satisfaction of knowing he’s better. Well I won’t let him. No one steals my kitchen and gets away with it. And no one bombs me with a car and then claims the hostilities are over.”
“Bombed you with a car?” Surely if that had happened, her master would have perished? “But, Shirou…”
“No buts Saber. I’m doing this, so go home and wait for me. I promise I’ll be back soon. And when I am, I’ll cook a feast for both you and Tohsaka, alright?”
That did sound appealing to her, and her master was very stubborn. Not only that, but he had a light in his eyes, stronger than the lion’s presence from three days prior. And so Saber left the scene, knowing without a doubt that Shirou would return, and he would return victorious.
“Hey Lancer, mind helping me with something?”
But Shirou still had work to do beforehand, as he hadn’t obtained a true ultimate technique to defeat Archer with yet.
“Sure, kid. What do you need help with?” Lancer asked, almost playfully. He didn’t know what was at stake here.
“I need to learn a technique to defeat Archer with. You’ve fought him before, so you should be able to help me with this.”
Lancer dropped his fishing rod in surprise. Then he laughed. He laughed hard, until he noticed the serious look on Shirou’s face. A look that said “I’ve gone completely bonkers, but I have a goal, damnit”.
“You’re serious, eh kid? Well, sorry to say, but he’s a servant. No way you’ll ever be strong enough to fight him.” Lancer said dismissively, picking up his fishing rod again.
“I sparred with berserker for over twenty four hours yesterday and the day before.”
And Lancer dropped the rod again. “No way. You must’ve been dreaming kid, because that ain’t possible. Not berserker. I would’ve believed you had a fist-fight with caster and won, but not berserker.”
”But it is true, and it did happen. I have the endurance; I just need more strength and skill. Please Lancer; this is very important to me.”
“Fine, I’ll tell you how to get as good as I am, at least. First off, find a goddess-like woman who is a lot stronger than you.”
“Ok, I can think of a few.”
“Now, defeat her in battle and impregnate her. Years later, accidently kill your son with the first use of your new weapon that you’ll obtain.”
Usually that would have bothered Shirou, but he hadn’t slept in three days and had taken quite a few falls on his head due to berserker and one from the car-splosion, so he didn’t really care. It sounded good to him.
“Alright, what next?”
“Make a bunch of promises you’ll break, eat a dog, tie yourself to a rock to stay standing and use runes to face off against an army single handedly, and die gloriously in the process. That’s all kid, good luck.”
Of course, Lancer had told him all of this without, for a moment, thinking Shirou would actually do it. But Shirou had gone beyond the point of common sense.
He was now at the point of SUPER sense.
“Thanks Lancer, I’ll try it out. So, you tell me, Caren, the nun, or Rider, who has divinity?”
“Huh?” Lancer really hadn’t expected that.
“Yeah, I guess rider, who has the actual stat, would be a better choice over a girl who just worships a god. Thanks Lancer, you’ve been really helpful.”
And so, Shirou set off to defeat Rider, forcibly impregnate her, kill his own son with his newest gimmick, and die against an army to make himself as strong as Lancer, who could equal Archer in single combat.
The plan was FLAWLESS.
Gilgamesh’s tutelage
Rider had no idea what was happening. One moment, she was watching the house, and the next, ladles, frying pans and spatulas were flying towards her at high speeds.
“Shirou, I have no idea why you’re doing this.”
Shirou knew exactly what was happening, and in his head, it all made some kind of demented, twisted sense.
“Simple! As per Lancer’s flawless plan” Credit must be given where it is due, after all. He didn’t make the plan, he doesn’t deserve the credit. “I will defeat a goddess-like female who is much stronger than me in combat, impregnate her, unknowingly kill my own son and grieve about it, eat a dog, fight an army and die. Then I will be able to drive Archer out of my beloved kitchen, and retain all of my dignity. A flawless victory and I will be able to protect everyone in the end, because I will be super powerful.”
“That is the dumbest plan I’ve ever heard, mongrel.”
It wasn’t rider who spoke then, it was Shirou’s old nemesis…
“Gertrud! You dare interrupt this epic combat?” Shirou loudly yelled, sure that he had gotten the name right this time.
“I am Gilgamesh, lowlife, not Gertrud. Also, you’re going about this all wrong, Faker! It is truly pitiful.” Gilgamesh loudly proclaimed, from the top of his perch, a telephone pole.
“What do you mean, A U O? A plan this simple can’t possibly fail!”
“But there is the problem, mutt! Heroes who make plans that ‘can never fail’ learn that those plans will always fail! No, Faker, what you need is much simpler. What you need is… a training montage!” That got Shirou’s attention. A training montage always worked well in movies and mangas, much more often than even the simplest of plans, like Lancer’s.
“It seems I’ve underestimated you, Gilgamesh. You are truly the king of heroes for a reason. So, in terms of training montages, what do you suggest?”
Gilgamesh did his trademarked arrogant smirk, and opened his gate of Babylon. Walking out, was a man Shirou could already tell was the best. He had short, curly black hair, hard eyes, a well-toned body and Shirou knew somehow, half his mouth didn’t work properly. He was wearing boxing shorts, and a pair of boxing gloves.
“So, King of Heroes, you had something like that in your vault, eh? How fearsome.” Shirou acknowledged this man as the best of the best, as any man would have in his presence.
“Truly! Only the best for the man who once defeated me. Come Faker, let us make you strong enough to defeat that other Faker.”
And so the King of heroes jumped from his perch, along with the master of training montages, right beside Shirou. They both patted his back, and started moving towards the sunset in what would have been a great movie scene. But Shirou turned back, just for a moment.
“Rider? Are you coming? You’re keeping me waiting, here.”
“Ah! Umm, yes.” Still confused as to what had just happened, she simply complied. She ran to catch up with them, to what would be the greatest Training Montage of their time.
??
’s Tutelage
And so Shirou trained.
Every morning he would get up earlier than Rider or Gil, and cook breakfast, lunch and supper all in one sitting. He couldn’t let his skills get rusty.
Then, when Gil, Rider and their trainer woke up, they would go running for hours.
Their bond became stronger.
Pushing a cart filled with weights up a hill, their instructor barking at them, as they cried out in pain, effort and raw power.
They became closer than friends.
Walking up and down the stairs to Ryudou temple, on their hands. They fell many times, but each time, they would get up, put their hands on the stairs, and keep going until their instructor told them otherwise.
They became closer than lovers.
Destroying targets that were nothing but tree trunks covered in a single layer of fabric, with their bare hands. Covered in wounds, bruises and blood, they kept asking for the next target until there were no more.
They became closer than family.
They sparred for hours without end, in a giant whirlwind of kicks, steel and kitchen utensils. Only rarely were they stopped by their instructor so that he could correct their faults, then the battle would start again.
They became closer than master and servant.
They sweat together, bled together, cried together, ate together, bathed together, slept all in the same bed together, joked together, laughed together, and faced everything, and anything, together. They were now inseparable.
Then, one day, during one of their breaks, their instructor looked outside their rustic cabin in the mountains, to the sky, and simply said: “It’s time.”
And they knew they had to say goodbye to their beloved teacher, the master of training montages, and defeat their foes on their own.
And so their tutelage under [Censored] ended, and Shirou had learned, and gained too much to be explained with words.
He would win against Archer now, there was no doubt.
Shirou’s Results:
Shirou’s training montage had lasted two months. In that time, Archer had been downright ecstatic, Ilya had gotten lonely, Sella had shared Archer’s joy, Rin had stopped caring, Berserker roared and Saber believed in her master’s promise.
But they were all surprised when Shirou, along with Gilgamesh and Rider, had come back, still looking for a fight against Archer.
They had been even more surprised when Shirou and Gilgamesh made the challenge shirtless, countless scars showing on both of them.
So now they were in the yard of the Emiya house, Archer and Shirou facing off.
“Do you really think two months of training will be enough? I can still forgive you if you back away now, Emiya Shirou.”
“What’s that, Archer? Feeling a bit scared, are we?”
Archer scoffed at his taunt, projected a couple of frying pans and took his stance. “No, I just wanted to give you the possibility of not being embarrassed again. But it seems you like the embarrassment of losing to the same foe over and over.”
Shirou projected a ladle and a spatula, and took his own stance.
And it began.
The first clash surprised Archer. As he swung his frying pans at Shirou, the young redhead blocked them with his spatula and ladle, and they did not break. Instead, it was Archer’s pans that broke.
“W-what?”
Shirou saw his surprise and rushed him, only for Archer to jump up onto to house’s roof. He projected a bow in one hand, and a sausage rope in the other. Pouring prana into the latter, it became straight and hardened (provoking a snicker from the audience) and he notched it on his bow. Pouring even more prana into the sausage rope, it gained power, and fragility.
It became fragile. It became dangerous. It became broken.
As he launched his hard sausage (more snickers from the audience) at Shirou, Shirou just summoned his strongest shield.
“Rho Pan-ias!” and a huge frying pan appeared before him, on which Archer’s mighty sausage simply splattered upon.
“You can’t win, Archer, because you’re just making utensils.” Shirou said, unnatural confidence creeping into his voice. “But me? I simply bring out what is already there.”
Archer’s eyes widened in shock, and in desperation he projected many utensils in the air around him, launching them at Shirou.
But they all harmlessly bounced of Rho Pan-ias. Shirou, seeing this, donned his most arrogant, irritating smirk yet, taught directly to him by Gilgamesh, and started chanting.
“I am the handle of my spatula
Noodles are my body and sauce is my blood
I have created over a thousand meals
Incapable of overcooking
Nor capable of undercooking
Have withstood food poisoning to taste-test many dishes
Yet, I will never fail to finish making a meal
So, as the pot simmers
UNLIM ITED KITCHEN WORKS”
And the world around him was recreated. White tiles where there once was grass. An endless ceiling. On the horizon, giant ovens and refrigerators could be seen. And out of the ground, countless utensils and ingredients were seen sprouting out from between the tiles. The only landmark was a small footstool surrounded by oversized ladles and spatulas.
Archer was completely stunned. “Impossible… even I haven’t brought my five-star kitchen bladeworks to this level.”
“That is because you are weak, Archer, and you have lost understating of what it truly means to make a meal.” Shirou was there, before him, handling a pot on one of the many ovens covering the endless room. “But what you face here is the ultimate extreme of cooking. So let it begin with but a question, Archer.”
Shirou removed the pot from the oven, took out a single ladle and scooped up some of the beef stew inside.
“Tell me, house-husband, does your cooking have enough love?”
And Shirou ran forward, and faster than Archer could react had stuffed the ladle filled with stew into Archer’s mouth.
And Archer’s senses exploded.
It tasted amazing. It smelled amazing. It even felt amazing, just having it in his mouth. But that was not all: Archer could see how good it was and hear it. He saw a vision of Shirou, Saber, Rin, Ilya, Taiga and Sakura all eating the same stew he was at the table in the house. They were laughing, Archer could hear them. They were smiling, Archer could see them. It brought a tear to his eye, seeing a pure moment of happiness.
So Archer fell to his knees, realizing what cooking truly meant. A good meal brings people together, makes them forget their differences in the promise of a good, warm meal.
And Archer realized: He had lost this fight. He lost the fight the moment he took over Emiya Shirou’s kitchen out of spite.
“This cooking, Emiya Shirou, I will accept it.” And Archer fell to the ground, a content smile upon his face.
And Emiya Shirou, his fight over, triumphantly walked into his kitchen once more to make a feast he had promised saber so long ago.
The End
