RWBY is property of Rooster Teeth Productions, LLC. and Fate/Stay Night is property of Type-Moon, neither of which I am affiliated with besides being a massive fan. I do not profit off of writing or publishing this.
I know a lot of you are watching Unlimited Blade Works the anime and have never read the visual novel. Unless you like spoilers, get out. There are massive spoilers in this and unless you like having a really good story spoiled for you, you should either wait until the series is finished or read the visual novel before moving onto this. Seriously, the anime misses a lot of stuff and I may occasionally reference stuff that isn't in there but is in the novel. If you do, get ready to cry during the Heaven's Feel route. Anyway, if you're still here, enjoy my return to creative writing.
The chains of Enkidu wrapped around his arm, Shirou was faced with one of the most difficult decisions he would ever make. Should he struggle against their pull, anchoring himself and allowing Gilgamesh to pull himself back into this world? Or should he let himself go, falling into the seemingly endless abyss and taking the King of Heroes with him to ensure that he could never again threaten this world. If he did, he knew that his life would end, leaving behind his loved ones aside from Saber who had already moved on. Fuji-nee and Sakura both would be saddened by his passing, and Rin... Well, it was hard to tell with Tohsaka just what exactly she thought of anybody, but he had shared those moments with her, the two of them moaning the other's name and embracing each other. He liked to think that she would at least think somewhat fondly of him.
"Fool! Does it not know Servants cannot become the core?" The king roared. He pulled heavily with his remaining arm and looped another length of chain around his wrist as he slowly hauled himself out of the void. His rage was palpable, a wild and furious look on his face as his eyes settled on the red haired faker who dared oppose him and shatter some of his treasures.
Shirou had to make a decision. Now. He knew that there was really no such thing as a deus ex machina, and that even if there was, it had already occurred, sucking away Gilgamesh from Unlimited Blade Works into a world devoid of anything. Even then, he had held against and defied the will of the world, breaching his way back into this one. No, if anything was going to save the world, it would have to be Shirou. At least this way, Shirou would achieve his dream.
He would become a true hero.
Shirou let go and felt the mighty pull of the chains that once imprisoned Heaven's Bull take him. The last thing he saw as he dropped into the black hole was the look of astonishment and despair on Gilgamesh's face as he too fell. He couldn't help but feel some small amount of satisfaction at that.
The courtyard, now empty, fell silent as the tear in the fabric of reality closed, a wrong righted by Gaia, the world itself. A man in a red coat stood hidden some ways away, a sad smile on his face and a fading mundane dagger on the floor next to him. He knew now that he would never be free. He had, after all, encouraged the boy to be a hero and said that he was the only one who could fight the King of Heroes and win. He had sent the boy to his death, had killed him. Though that was not his intent, it had been his original plan.
And yet Counter Guardian Emiya was still here.
He stood up from where he kneeled, struggling to gather the strength needed to do so. He had spent almost every bit of himself in the past couple of days. Heavy use of Gradiation Air to defend his former master from the grail and maintaining his presence in this world was taxing on what little prana he had left now that he had no master. Taking one last look at the scene before him, he sighed and turned, moving to meet his former master one last time. He would need his strength to tell her what had happened and what had been sacrificed for it.
Tohsaka had always been frightening when he pulled one of his bone-headed antics.
Shirou fell for what seemed an eternity. He had at first fallen with Gilgamesh, but after some time, the two had been separated. Shirou was okay with this as, though he could not hear it in this world where noise was nothing, Gilgamesh had been screaming and raging at him the entire time. What Shirou was not okay with was the maddening weight of the evils of all mankind.
Die Rape Murder Despair Suffer
Noise and light were non-existent in this world. Even when Gilgamesh had been nearby, he could not see the blonde-haired king, merely feeling the presence of his mind and the entirety of his hatred directed at him. There was only feeling and Shirou was drowning in it. His mind was swimming in a sea of melancholy and rage and apathy. His sense of identity had never always been strong, his birth name having been consumed by the Great Fuyuki Fire long ago, but he could feel what little he had being smothered. A chorus of madness surrounded him, singing a dirge of despair and beckoning him to join in. He felt like he was dying again.
Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die
He felt like he was in the fire again.
A sudden sense of clarity blew through him, driving away that horrible heat. For the first time since he had fallen in, he could see something in the darkness. A pair of strikingly red eyes sat squarely on an alabaster face framed by locks of snow-driven hair. They looked into his soul and found it horribly distorted. A wave of emotion, of pity and anguish, washed over those eyes and crashed onto him. They could not fix him, but that was okay, he told them. He did not want to be fixed. If he was fixed, then everything he had suffered was a lie. It wouldn't be fair to those that had suffered more than he had to make light of their troubles. Those eyes stared at him for a good long time at that and slowly determination filled them.
In that world filled with all the evils of mankind, a white radiant light emanated from those eyes. As the light slowly filled his vision, Shirou continued to fall. However, he noticed that something had changed. Where before there was only darkness and an overbearing weight on his soul, now there was stars and air moving away from him. He turned slowly and saw that there were trees. He turned more and saw that there was the ground rushing up to meet hi-
There is a certain irony, Shirou decided, in this situation. He had died to the Holy Grail only to wake up in a bed without knowing where he was. Again. Shirou took a few moments to observe his surroundings. It was daytime, with light filtering in through the window and falling on his bed. His bed had rails lining the sides of them, though they weren't keeping him prisoner. On one side of the rails, a series of buttons lay within reach. A grey plastic chair sat in the corner of the room. There was various pieces of equipment near him, the sound of soft beeps matching in time to a green line spiking on one screen. It was a heart monitor. He was in a hospital. The sounds of people walking past his oak door and a voice lined with static calling for a doctor to an operating bay confirmed that thought.
Shirou pushed himself up to a sitting position, feeling a stiffness throughout all of his body. He listened to the steady beeping of the heart monitor next to him and took comfort in the fact that he was still alive. With a thought, he turned his attention inwards towards himself. His magic circuits were not damaged by what he had gone through and his injuries from his battle with Gilgamesh had healed completely. He was not surprised from this; he had, after all, survived being stabbed in the heart before. Satisfied with his body's current status, he found and pressed the call sign on his bed.
A few seconds passed and Shirou heard a knock at the opening door. "Good afternoon, sir. How are you feeling?" Closing the door behind him, the man in the long white coat stood with a confidence that only came with long practice in his profession. Though his body language presented a comforting air, his soft blue eyes scanned Shirou, seeking any ailment that he might be suffering.
"I feel okay," Shirou replied easily. It was the truth. The pains that came with the knowledge that he had pushed himself to the absolute limits and beyond in his fight were already fading. When he left this place, he would have to check with Tohsaka why that was. He had healed extraordinarily quickly during the war and it had served him well, but he would need to know if it could compromise the secret of magic if he was injured in public. Already, he was racing to find possible covers if he had healed too quickly to be possible. It all depended on how long he had been unconscious.
"Well, that's good to hear," the doctor replied. "You've been in here overnight. Somebody found you after you decided to put a good sized dent in the earth." The man chuckled. "I'm surprised you're even awake right now, let alone feeling well."
The man kept his eyes on one of the pages of a clipboard he had carried in as he kept chuckling. "I don't know what you crazy huntsmen do to train, but if you're not careful, your aura isn't going to save you again."
"Y-yes, of course. I'll definitely be sure to be more careful in the future." Shirou grasped onto that excuse like a lifeline. He had heard stories from his father about how the Mage's Association would send agents in to scramble the brains of anybody who got too close to the secret of magic. Often times, Kiritsugu told him, they'd wipe too hard and remove essential parts of the personality of the victim. Shirou didn't want that happening to somebody who had dedicated his life to healing others. "Though if I may ask, where am I? This doesn't look like Fuyuki General."
The doctor, Merrywether as the blue lining on his breast read, tilted his head to the side as he regarded Shirou. "Is that in Vacuo? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with any hospitals outside of Vale."
A spike of confusion and panic nestled into the pit of his stomach. Where did that portal take him? He had never heard of either of those places and they were certainly not Japanese names. Carefully, he dodged the question. "So, I'm in... Vale then." Merrywether smiled warmly at him.
"Yes, you're in the First Clinic of Vale. We found you just near the edge of the Emerald Forest. Apparently," Merrywether took a second to flip through his clipboard before seemingly finding what he was looking for on the last page, "You were found by a team from Beacon Academy before they brought you here."
"Ah, that makes sense." Though he maintained a thoughtful expression outwardly, Shirou was panicking on the inside. Those sounded like English names, which meant he was far away from home.
The doctor rifled through the pages on the board for a second before tucking it under his arm. "Well, now that you're awake, how about we sort some things out." Though the doctor had sounded cheerful when he said that, Shirou remained cautious. Merrywether, having seemed oblivious, caught onto Shirou's nervousness right away. "Oh don't worry. We don't charge huntsmen for our services here, given what you do for humanity, so you don't need to worry about insurance if you don't have it."
Again, the kindly middle-aged man with the slowly graying hair gave Shirou the perfect out. "Yes, I'm sorry. I'm not exactly familiar with your country's hospital system, so I wasn't sure..." Shirou petered out, his nerves from this situation slowly choking what words dared come to mind. Merrywether handed him the clip board with what looked like a form and a pen. Shirou took both in hand and brought the pen to paper before stopping suddenly, nearly dropping both onto the bed.
Shirou couldn't read what was on the page.
It wasn't Japanese, and although Fuji-nee wasn't the best teacher, she still taught English well enough that he could make out basic sentences. What was on the page was neither of those languages, or any other script he had looked at during his magus studies in his father's library. He handed the clipboard back to the puzzled doctor. "Sorry. My eyes are still blurry from waking up."
The doctor nodded in understanding. "Very well. How about you dictate and I'll fill it out for you?" He pulled the small uncomfortable looking chair out from the corner of the room and sat down at Shirou's bedside. "What's your name then?"
"Emiya Shirou." The words came easily enough. Perhaps his latest death, and Shirou knew that he had died, hadn't been nearly as debilitating as his first one if he was able to give his full name. The doctor nestled the clipboard in the crook of his crossed leg and quickly scribbled the name near the top of the page.
When he finished writing the unusual name, he looked up, eyes bright at finally knowing the boy's name."Alright then, Emiya. How old are you?"
Shirou gave a small laugh at the mistake. "I'm eighteen." He paused for a second as the doctor turned his attention back towards the board. "And I'm sorry, but my given name is Shirou." The doctor apologized, laughing with Shirou politely as he did so.
This continued for a while with Shirou struggling to give answers while trying to subtly probe for information on where he was. Some of the questions gave him pause though such as where he was from or if he had any blood relations that were a faunus and if so, what kind. He had never heard of a faunus. He didn't reveal that though. Taking the doctor's reaction of sitting up a little straighter and seeming even cheerier than before as a sign, he assumed it was a bad thing.
Eventually, the questions came to an end and Shirou was assured that he could check out whenever he wanted. After he dressed himself in his sliced up blue shirt and jeans, Shirou left the hospital and hit the streets.
He needed answers.
Several days later, Shirou had his answers. He was indeed far removed from his world. He knew as much when he saw the shattered moon in the night sky. He had fallen to his knees in disbelief, the people passing him by looking at him in slight interest and concern. One woman approached him and asked if he was okay. When he pulled his mind from despairing thoughts and said that he was fine, the woman left, her dog-like tail swinging behind her. The Latin root 'faun' came to mind then and he was reminded of what Merrywether had asked him, if he was related to any faunus or not. Understanding the question for what it was, he watched the woman walk away to join her friends, some of whom had various animal parts.
Idly, he noted in his shock that Shinji would probably label this place a paradise. His mind overburdened with all of this new information, Shirou left to find a silent place to collect himself and think on a way to return home.
He had, on that first night, settled into the woods to hunt woodland animals and practice his magecraft away from prying eyes. He had some experience in rough camping, his father claiming that he may need it someday. As he made his way deeper into the forest, now knowing it as the Emerald Forest, he found that he had ample opportunity to practice his magecraft through practical use. Namely, by defending himself from masked creatures with red eyes and bones sticking from their flesh.
Their flesh reminded him of the black void that was the Holy Grail.
As he cut the last of them down, he watched as the corpses of the creatures flaked away in the cold wind of the night. He got no sleep that night as the beasts kept attacking him as he was about to slumber. His stomach rumbled in protest of being ignored in favor of the constant battles. Finally deciding the woods as a lost cause, he started back towards the city as the sun started to rise. As he wandered back into the city, which he learned was named Vale, he discovered the name of these abominations that reminded him of the more savage animals from his world.
That had been nearly a week ago and he was facing more problems than just being in another world. The little money that he had carried into battle was useless here and he was starving. He had started taken to sleeping in the alley ways as he was unable to pay for shelter in a motel or anything of the sort. While far safer than sleeping alone in the Emerald Forest, he still faced the dangers of being mugged by thugs or being jumped by other transients in search of a relatively comfy corner. As a result, Shirou was starting to become more and more desperate as his body started becoming fatigued more easily. He needed to earn money if he wanted to survive.
However, Shirou learned quickly that finding a job was difficult when you didn't have birth records, references, or even the ability to read or write. At first, when he was interviewed by those not terribly put off his torn clothing, they were interested to meet him, but when they learned of his disability or that he had no records, they politely ended the interview right there. When he started smelling like trash cans, they refused to even meet with him, sometimes downright attacking him for wandering in through the door.
He huddled in the corner of the alley way, shivering as he brought his knees closer to his body. It was evidently in the middle of the winter season as the wind was bitter and cold as it ripped through the sliced open holes and tears in his clothing. Had he known this would be his fate, he would have prepared himself for the rough elements a little more thoroughly. Despite his uncomfortable situation, Shirou chuckled to himself at the thought of meeting Gilgamesh dressed in an oversized winter coat and thick woolen pants.
A sudden shriek pierced the chill night air. Before it even dissipated, Shirou was on his feet, the hammer slamming down as the trigger was pulled. "Trace on!" Two swords formed in his empty hands, beautiful in their simplicity and duality. One pure white and the other black with a red hexagonal pattern along its surface, Bakuya and Kanshou seemed to sing as Shirou's hands tightened around their handles. The Married Swords bolstered his physical and magical defense stats, inuring him to the cold as he raced through the back alleys towards the sound of fear.
His stomach tightened in protest to this sudden burst of energy, but he ignored the painful sensation of his lungs burning as he pulled up whatever energy he had left. Somebody needed to be saved. Somebody needed him. He would need all the strength he could muster for whatever he may have to do.
A flash of rage burned through his mind, dwarfing whatever his stomach may have felt as he witnessed the sight of a pair of young women surrounded by four vicious looking men, their suits hinting at Shirou that they were part of organized crime. He had seen something similar the few times he visited Fuji-nee's grandfather, the head of the local yakuza, regarding his father's estate. The women were clutching to each other, their clothes disheveled as they tried to shy away from the men. However, the men kept advancing on them until the women's backs were against one of the alley walls.
"Please no! Don't come any closer! Take our money, just don't hurt us!" One of the woman, who Shirou recognized as the woman who asked him if he was okay the first day he got here, cried as she threw her purse towards the men. The men didn't say anything as the kept drawing closer. A dark chorus of chuckles was their response as they drew machetes from their sides. Shirou couldn't help but grit his teeth as he watched this from the shadows of the alleyway.
The men finally got within an arms length of the pair. One man, his smirk growing larger and pushing his sunglasses higher up his nose, raised his machete, preparing to strike. His arm jerked down and the women clutched at each other even tighter and screamed. Blood splattered on their faces. However, they realized that it wasn't theirs and checked the other to see if she was harmed. A shout drew their attention, and as both looked towards the men who had approached them after a quiet dinner and movie, they saw something that held their rapt attention.
A warrior god fought before them, his hair the color of blood and wielding a pair of blades, both perfectly forged to a quality they knew they would never see again. He attacked the men with a ferocity unmatched by any, placing his back to the couple and keeping the men away from them. When one of the men moved to strike at them, the warrior would place himself in the path of the blow, sacrificing his safety to ensure theirs. Blood dripped down onto the cold paved road under him as he continued battling to protect them.
After the last man dropped, Shirou turned back towards the women and they watched him like deer before headlights, unsure of who he was or what he would do. Shirou shifted Bakuya into his left hand with Kanshou and bent down, picking something up. Slowly righting himself whilst wincing in pain, he moved cautiously towards the two so as not to frighten them. He held out his right hand and the dog faunus stared at it, not comprehending what it was he held towards her at first before realization danced across her eyes.
"Thank you," was all she said as she gently took her purse from Shirou. Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked up at the face of her savior. A soft and warm smile that met his gentle brown eyes was splayed across his face. Again, she found her breath stolen away from her. He turned away and started walking back towards the street, a slight limp in his gait. "Wait!" He paused and turned partially back towards her, his frame shadowed by the streetlights. "Don't you want a reward?" Her raven haired friend turned towards her, shock evident in her eyes as she had heard those words before, usually directed at some man who had done either of them a small favor. Usually she did not mind, but there was something about this man that made her want to get away from him despite his heroics.
Shirou, to her relief, declined. "That's alright. I don't need a reward." Those words stilled the two. Shirou turned back towards the street, swords in both hands, but as he got close to the entrance to alley, he collapsed to his knees. Shocked out of her stupor, the faunus ran to his side, noticing the way he was holding his stomach. Thinking the worst, she pulled his hand away to inspect him, only to hear a large growl emit from his stomach. Shocked, she looked up at Shirou's face, only to see him glancing away at something in the distance, wearing a dark blush and an uncomfortable look on his face.
"I think it actually just growled the words 'feed me'." The red on her savior's face grew deeper. One of the defeated men, still barely hanging onto consciousness, watched the scene and laughed slightly under his breath before passing out, his aura already knitting his injuries back together.
The two could only watch in astonishment as the boy before them devoured his fifth cheeseburger and greedily gulp at the "Extra-Dextra Size" chocolate milkshake in the small diner. The poor thing looked like he had had a rough time given the way he was shoveling fries into his mouth like he hadn't seen a hot meal in days and how he wore those filthy ragged clothes. Finally, after the sixth plate of cheeseburgers and fries, Shirou's hunger was sated. The warmth of the diner's atmosphere seeped into his skin, a pleasant change of pace from the biting wind outside. Kanshou and Bakuya sat, leaning against his booth. The sight of the scimitars set some of the staff on edge, but those who served huntsmen weren't bothered by the presence of the blades.
"Thank you for the meal," Shirou said. He clasped his hands together and bowed as low as he could from where he sat across the table from the two.
"No, thank you. If you hadn't come when you did, we... we..." The red-haired faunus, who had introduced herself as Sandy and her friend as Veronica, paused for a second, unable to contemplate what would have happened to them. Shaking her head, she looked Shirou in the eye. "This was the least we could do."
Shirou just closed his eyes and smiled sadly. While he would've liked to pay the bill himself, he regretted the fact that he was unable to do so. Instead, he looked back at Sandy. "I disagree, but thank you regardless."
Sandy hummed to herself in thought as she looked him over. Shirou felt a shiver of dread run down his spine for some strange reason. "The next thing we need to do is get you some new clothes." Shirou's instincts yelled at him to run in fear, but his sensibility told them to shut up. It would be incredibly rude to run away from somebody kind enough to pay for the first meal he had in several days.
Shirou meekly held up a hand in slight protest. "Ahhh, no, this is fine. Really. You've done more than enough for me. I actually feel bad about making you pay for all this food." Sandy stood up and slammed her hands on the table. A few of the other diners looked towards them and then quickly continued eating. For the first time since he had met her, however brief that was, she looked positively angry.
"You saved our lives out there. You're bleeding. You were starving. And you must be freezing in those clothes. I can smell you, and you smell like that Mistrallian restaurant on Fourth except worse. You're living on the street," she seethed at the way he refused her help. In the small part of his mind that wasn't frozen in fear, Shirou wondered at how she knew that before remembering that from what he had heard, the faunus had drastically increased senses and that some had traits akin to those of their animal counterparts. From what he remembered, dogs had a sense of smell magnitudes more powerful than a human's back on Earth. "I'm paying for your meal. Then, I'm going to pay for your new clothes. Then, you're going to take a shower at our place and sleep on a nice warm couch." Veronica's eyes grew progressively wider at each of those statements. After that last one, she stood up from the table.
"Sandy, we need to talk." Grabbing her by the sleeve of her sweater, Veronica tried to drag her friend away. Sandy looked confused at why, but stood her ground. When Veronica pulled harder and threatened to damage her sweater, she relented to Veronica who led her towards the ladies' room, only moving after telling Shirou to stay where he was in a low voice. In the relative privacy of the bathroom, Veronica turned towards her closest friend. "Sandy, I don't want him in our apartment."
Sandy gaped at her friend, not knowing where this was coming from. "Ronny, he saved our lives. And more."
Veronica's eyes narrowed and she leaned forward slightly. "I don't care, Sandy. He's dangerous. I'm fine with paying for his food and some new clothes, but I put my foot down at letting him anywhere near we sleep."
She couldn't believe this was coming from her friend. Sandy moved over towards the sinks and slowly counted. When she had calmed down enough for her breathing to not be audible, she faced Veronica. "One night. That's all. One night to let him get himself cleaned up and help find him somewhere else to stay." She was surprised at the look of abject terror and disbelief on Veronica's face.
"Sandy, you never said anything about finding him someplace to live." Surprise turned to anger and Sandy strongly considered slapping her best friend for the first time ever. As she was about to retort, they both paused at the sound of sudden running water and a slight cough.
Embarrassed at being overheard, Sandy moved towards the door. "Let's continue this outside." As she moved back towards the table however, she found that their savior had left. A plate with a few fries and a piece of paper with a crude depiction of someone bowing with hands together was the only proof that he had ever been there. "That jerk," Sandy softly murmured to herself, pretending not to see the look of palpable relief on her friends face.
Shirou had taken their brief leave as an opportunity to leave himself. Remembering that nobody would be able to read what he wrote, he asked one of the waitresses for a piece of paper and a pen. Quickly sketching out a stick figure asking for apology, he readied himself to set off into the cold night air. As he neared the restaurant's door, he saw several thick jackets on the coat rack next to it and looked longingly at them for a second before continuing out.
His clothes had already been in tatters before the fight; now they were looking like they might fall off of him. Still, he didn't regret leaving. A hero never asked for a reward. Doing so would defeat the whole point of it. He didn't want to help people because of what he would gain from it; he did it because he wanted to know what his father felt when he rescued him. He wanted to know what it was like to smile like that man did.
"That was a very noble thing you did." A voice rang out. He cursed at himself for being caught unawares despite knowing that his mind was frazzled from the lack of proper sleep. He was growing even more tired from constantly using his prana to maintain his projections as he couldn't simply let Gaia dispel the Married Swords in public, however few people there were at this time of night. It seemed Vale was a metropolis like Tokyo or New York City was for his world. Allowing his projections to fade would reveal magecraft to the people around him.
Shirou shook his head. His exhaustion was letting his thoughts digress too much. His focus sharpened, he brought his attention to a middle-aged man dressed in green leaning on a cane, tiny spectacles across the bridge of his nose. A small smile adorned his face, but his eyes told a different story. Those hawk-like eyes were like Archer's, though his held no malevolence or disdain like the Servant's had when they first met. Those eyes studied him, searched him for something, judging him for what he was worth. A long pause held between the two of them as Shirou's grip around his blades tightened slightly.
Finally, the man's eyes joined his mouth in that affable grin. The air, which was beginning to feel like it was suffocating Shirou, lifted all at once. "I'm sure those ladies will be quite upset that you left."
Shirou lessened his hold on Kanshou and Bakuya. Shaking his head, he finally replied to the unknown man. "Maybe, but if I had stayed, I would have felt like I had been taking advantage of their kindness." The man seemed to consider that before slowly closing the distance between the two. Shirou took note of how he wasn't dependent on his cane to walk and how he carried himself.
This man was just as dangerous as any Servant.
"If it was so freely offered, is it really taking advantage of them?" The appraisal returned to his eyes for a second, waiting for the boy's reasoning.
Shirou paused in thought for a moment to work out how he was going to phrase his response. His very brief time as Tohsaka's friend had taught him that a thoughtlessly worded reply could have massive consequences. One such consequence was having an physically manifested illness shot at you with the force of a bullet behind it. "Yes. Yes, it would have. If I had stayed, then it would go against everything I've ever worked for." The man watched him for several seconds.
"Where are you staying?" The change in topic was so abrupt that it threw Shirou for a loop before he replied after a moment that he was staying in the downtown area. "Do you know who I am?" Shirou was rapidly becoming confused by this constantly evolving conversation, compounded by the headache that was starting to form from exhaustion. Answering in the negative, he waited for the man to pause for a second before continuing. "I am Headmaster Ozpin of Beacon Academy."
A flash of recognition danced in Shirou's eyes. "Oh, I suppose I should thank you then. After all, it was one of your teams that found me in the forest before those monsters did."
"Indeed." Ozpin leaned forward on his cane. "We were quite surprised to find someone not of our own out there by themselves." Shirou kept quiet at that, unsure of how to respond. The streets were starting to fully empty for the night. The moon, usually presenting its shattered visage, was entirely full on this night. If he didn't know otherwise, he would have assumed it was his world's. "Tell me, would you be interested in a spot at my school?"
Shirou wasn't totally surprised by that. He gathered that the man had been watching him for a while since he had saved Sandy and Veronica and that he trained people to be able to slay monsters. If he was honest with himself, he was actually excited by the chance to join the ranks of the huntsmen. His chances of returning home seemed increasingly slim the longer he stayed out here. Not to mention, he could finally reach his goal of becoming a hero like his father always wanted to be. However, there was a problem.
Shirou rubbed the back of his head, careful not to cut himself with Kanshou. "I can't afford any tuition fees your school might have," he mumbled. Back in his world, he had been able to live comfortably due to his inheritance, and to suddenly be so destitute and dependent on the kindness of others was humbling and shaming. If he ever returned home, he was going to start also volunteering at homeless shelters in addition to saving people.
Ozpin's smile grew slightly bigger and walked to Shirou's side. Putting his arm lightly around the boy, he led the two of them westwards. "Unfortunately, the school term has already started and teams are formed around a level of trust and communication formed through..." Ozpin paused here, as though stumbling around a series of words before continuing unabated, "certain means. To introduce you now to a fully formed team, which are all that we have at the moment as we take safety at Beacon very seriously, would be detrimental to their overall performance."
The way he had phrased how teams formed unsettled Shirou slightly. Instead of addressing that though, he asked the blaringly obvious, "So how would I be attending your school?"
A mysterious smile danced on Ozpin's lips. "You would be a part of our staff."
Shirou was only slightly better as a teacher than he was as a student. He had taught Sakura everything she knew about cooking, after all. Shirou recognized that and he also recognized that he was a horrible student as well. He had been unwittingly been using his nerves as magic circuits instead of the ones he already had for years. When he first actively used his circuits several years after first being introduced to magic, he couldn't feel the left side of his body, almost like he had suffered a seizure. "I think I'm a little too young to teach though."
Ozpin continued leading the two through town, though he had since removed his arm from around his companion's shoulder. "That wouldn't be a problem. Our teaching staff is already full and there would be..." Ozpin blanched slightly as though an unpleasant thought occurred to him. "Consequences if I were to bring in any more teachers this late in the year. There would be terrible consequences."
Shirou was a little intimidated. Something that was slightly scary to a man who could probably stand toe to toe with a Servant would have been frightening to anyone else. Still, he had to ask. "So, what would I be doing?"
Ozpin kept looking forward, not being able to meet Shirou's curious gaze. "Well..."
In another world, bored out of his mind and waiting anxiously for the next time Sakura came to visit him, Matou Shinji laid on a hospital bed. He was lazily flipping through the channels when he dropped the remote control and whipped his head to look out the window at the bright sunny day. His mouth began twitching upwards for a few seconds before he erupted into gut-wrenching laughter. Later, when the nurse who was fixing the stitches on his stomach asked what so funny, Shinji wheezed out, "He's never going to be rid of that stupid nickname."
I love Fate/Stay Night and I love RWBY. I especially love the idea of Shirou copying all those unique weapons and using them just as well as their respective owners.
A few things:
1. I'm not trying to make this Shirou any more overpowered than he already is. That being said, wow is UBW Shirou overpowered. He continued to absorb some of Archer's abilities and experience just by being near him when he fought. He powered up so much at first, he thought Saber was going easy on him the next day.
2. I may or may not follow canon RWBY arcs. Oh, you'll definitely at least see references or mentions of them, but I'm tired of always reading a decent fic that shows potential only to do the initiation and then stop because the author got bored or hit a wall. Rest in peace around ninety percent of all the fics I've read and liked.
3. No main character OCs. None. You're not getting that here (besides the three that popped up in this chapter). No random faunus people (Not there's anything wrong with that. It's just not my thing.), no people infused with Grimm DNA or what have you, no Gary Stus or Mary Sues or Dr. Suess even. You get canon cast... well as canon as a fusion between FSN and RWBY can be.