Suddenly flat on his back, eyes staring at the ceiling, Albert rubbed the sore spot on his forehead where she had poked him. That was what he'd observed her doing anyway. A poke. It had felt more like a headbutt from a pro linebacker.

Mon dieu...

He got back up, tipping the chair until it sat upright once again. He settled into it, relieved that Roland seemed either quick to forgive, or at least not as angry as her words had suggested.

"Is zat it zen, ma chère? Zat's everyzing? If all you desired was for me to be more frank wiz you, zen all you 'ad to do was tell me. Here, let me start. Ow, zat fucking 'urt, go rot in 'ell you stupid Servant."

He grinned to show his jest was all in good fun, then cleared his throat. "Now zen, as for your conditions, I do not believe I shall 'ave any problems aquiescing to zem. I do admit zat I find zem to be a bit old-fashioned, but it's not like I 'ad any plans to go around acting so villainously anyway. Ze Prelatis are not cowards, nor are zey so self-serving." Wiz ze exception of one... Albert thought grimly to himself. "'Owever, do not come whining to me later when I 'old you to zem. What you tell me now is what I will base my strategies on, so if zere are any exceptions to zese rules zen you'd better speak up."

She spoke up again, a rather spooky smile accompanying her words. It sent a chill down his spine. Nevertheless, he felt overjoyed that she'd asked. As it just so happens he had the perfect mission for her.

"Ah yes, ze familiars. I 'ad almost forgotten about zem," he lied with a barely contained mirth. "Well, zey 'aven't really seen anyzing interesting just yet. Alzough, zere was zis one busy little bee who told me 'e'd just seen Lancer and zat mercenary fellow's female accomplice murdered in cold blood just outside ze church by some mysterious masked man dressed all in black. Apparently 'e wore a turban and said somezing about Allah before 'e killed zem. I didn't zink 'e was telling me ze truth. I mean, it would be so unbelievably ridiculous for Lancer to be killed so early in ze game, but..."

He smiled wickedly. "Perhaps you would still like for us to investigate, ma chère?"

Albert didn't even feel the need to second-guess whether or not she'd take the bait. If there was anyone alive who hated Muslims more than conservative pundits, the Jews, and other Muslims, it was probably the great crusader Roland (although they'd been called "saracens" back then). Assassin would be an easy target. It concerned him somewhat that he'd managed to take care of Lancer so easily, but he was more than confident enough that Berserker could handle it. Her rage and righteous indignation would only add fuel to the fires of her bloodlust, and with as many spare eyes as Albert possessed, they would certainly never be caught off-guard by any Assassin. It was the perfect warmup exercise.

And so began the long awaited sequel to the smash hit of the tenth century a thousand plus years in the making. Deus Vult 2: Saracen Boogaloo.

"Yes, let's..." out Albert paused, lifting an eyebrow. "Wait, 'ang on a minute. What do you mean by 'leave the landing to-'"

But by then it was far, far too late. In an instant, Berserker grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and jumped out the window, carrying him over her shoulder like a screaming sack of panicked French potatoes.

"Ma chère, I did not consent to zis!" he yelled with tears streaming down his face. "I did not consent to ziiiiiis!"

---

It took about ten minutes for him to calm down, and longer than that for his heart rate to return to normal. He grimaced as they bounded through the air like weightless ghosts, the city lights underneath them moving too fast to track as Berserker leaped from rooftop to rooftop. Damn her and her impulsiveness...

"You know ma chère, you could 'ave at least asked me first. Just because you took me out for a little bit of wining and dining doesn't mean you can just 'ave your way wiz me," he said sarcastically. "'Ell, we didn't even get to ze dining part..."

He closed his eyes and breathed in the crisp, cool air. The smell of a city at night was always different than during the day. He'd spent enough time seeing the world through his familiars' senses to understand the subtlety of that. For whatever reason, he found that new odors and fragrances you would've missed during the day were revealed when the temperature dropped and the city slept. Aside from the refreshing scent of new-fallen snow, he could smell at least five new scents mixed into the night air. And the smell of his Servant's hair whipping in the wind.

Albert inhaled again. She had a surprisingly lovely smell despite her more brutish nature. Like a rose garden in the spring. It was quite beautiful, and it made him feel-

He stopped that train of thought quickly before it even left the station. Cut it out, you weirdo. What next? Are you gonna stick your nose right up in 'er 'air and sniff?

"It's right up zere," he instructed Berserker. "Just a few more kilometers, zen take a right up ze 'ill."

Albert endeavored to relax, the lingering knowledge that his trust in his Servant was all that was keeping him from falling to his death slowly fading away into the background. He felt... tired. So tired.

"Ma chère," he said, yawning. "I'm going to sleep for a few minutes. Wake me up when we get zere."

With that, the professional facade of the calm, cool, and collected Master wise beyond his years fell away, and suddenly, there he was. A fifteen year old boy who fell asleep clinging to his Servant's back, like a younger brother being carried by his big sister.

"Hrrrmmmmmmm!..."

Ren Mizushima groaned, cracking his back. He'd finally, finally finished unpacking. That suitcase felt like it had weighed a ton when he'd been carrying it up the stairs. And that was just the bare essentials...

He grimaced. That's right. He still needed to pick up the rest of the stuff the professor had had shipped into Japan before he left. Dammit. Honestly, who sends their student ahead to do all the heavy lifting while they dick around back at home trying to decide what catalyst to bring? Couldn't he have decided that a week ago? Sorting through and processing all the different request forms for that sort of artifact took the Clocktower a long time, usually. He should've learned how to manage his time better.

Ren sighed, adjusting his glasses. No point getting upset about it now. Better to just get it over with.

Almost tripping as he stumbled down the stairs towards the living room, he ducked his head in and announced, "Going out for a bit, mom!" to which his only response was a noncommittal grunt. He honestly hadn't been expecting her to be home when his flight landed in Fuyuki. Normally he was used to her working all hours of the day and night so he never got to see her (at least not very often), but when he'd arrived home, he'd found her sleeping on the couch with a special cake already laid out. She'd not only been home, but she'd stayed up for hours waiting for him.

He smiled as he tiptoed past to put on his shoes. She must have had it a lot easier now that she didn't have to work to support two people. Four years ago she'd been stuck in a strict cycle of work/sleep for 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Now she'd come home early to surprise him and had even bought a cake. He supposed it was only appropriate to celebrate after you'd been gone so long.

Ren's fingers stopped as he finished tying his shoes, still holding on to the plastic ends of his shoelaces. It was already four years, huh? He had to admit, he hadn't quite thought he'd ever be gone that long when he first agreed to travel with the professor. He'd sent cards back home of course and skype made it so that no one was ever too far away if you were willing to take a call, but...

Four years. It'd been four years since he'd gotten to see Fuyuki. Realizing that now made him really think about just how much time he'd ever spend here again if he intended to continue his path as a mage. Would he ever come back again after the Holy Grail War? Fuyuki wasn't much to look at, but he'd been born here. Grew up here. Would it really be that easy to leave it all behind?

Grabbing a coat, he decided that as long as he was going outside, he might as well take a little memorial walk for old time's sake. Burn the image of Fuyuki into his head. It'd be a useful thing to be as familiar as possible with the area once the fighting started, and it didn't hurt that he'd also wanted to see everything that might've changed in the last four years.

---

Ren sighed. As it turns out, not a whole freakin' lot had changed. Everything was still exactly as he'd left it. Fuyuki, it seemed, was about as open to change as the fucking tides. The only major renovation this city had ever seen had been after the great fire of '94, and that was way before his time.

He was carrying about four heavy boxes, all of them magecraft-related supplies, equipment and paraphernalia the professor had wanted shipped to Japan. Half of the stuff in these boxes was probably way beyond him, so he treated it with reverence and a healthy amount of fear the same way one does a barrel of nitroglycerin or a stick of dynamite.

Peering over the top of the boxes to see where he was going, he headed down one of the long side-roads leading into Miyama town, where his house was. It was a long walk from the delivery point, but that would at least make him difficult to follow. Come to think of it, the fact that he lived in Miyama town could be seen as an advantage in the upcoming Grail War, since all the houses pretty much looked the same. But still, that forced him to think about one hair-raising possibility he'd tried to ignore up until now.

The professor... living in my house, he thought grimly. With his Servant.

He didn't dislike the professor. Quite the opposite, he thought very highly of him as his teacher and elder. But as Watson had once said about the great Sherlock Holmes, the man had eccentricities the same way dogs had fleas, and at times he could be incredibly embarrassing to be around. Not to mention he had a habit of chasing anything wearing a skirt.

Ren went white. The thought of that made him want to puke. No. No he could not let that happen. Teacher or not, the professor wasn't laying a finger on his mom. If he had to call that man "dad", he thought he might rather die instead.

Ren stopped, forgetting his quibbles about the professor almost instantly. Something was wrong. He could feel it in the air. Something like the smell of blood. Should he take off his glasses? Call the professor? Try to pick something out of one of the boxes to defend himself with?

No, no and no. His Pure Eyes would be useless at best in a fight, distracting at worst. The professor was still in England. And the boxes... he didn't trust himself to take the tape off of what was inside them. Trying to actually use them was out of the question. But he did have...

Gently setting the boxes aside, Ren slipped on the Flow Manipulation Glove the professor had given him. If this person was a Servant, or a hostile magus out to kill him, then it likely wouldn't do diddly to defend him. But he had to think of something.

Squinting, he could faintly make out a humanoid figure in the distance, standing under a lamp post. Was that the source of this menacing aura? They looked hurt though. Weak.

He approached cautiously, adjusting the fingers on the glove. The closer he got the stronger the scent became. He could see now that she was a tall woman, with incredibly long hair that was a brilliant, unnatural purple. She was also carrying weapons. Two long, wicked looking daggers that resembled huge nails on the ends of chains. But she still looked weak, like she was exhausted and barely able to stand.

"Umm, excuse me? Are you..." he asked, but then stopped as the woman collapsed in the snow. "H-Hey! Are you okay?! Do you need me to call an ambulance?! Ah, dammit!"

It was late, the moon hung in the sky like a silver orb, certainly, the night was beautiful. Taka liked to think that during the night people would become more transparent as they believe their actions to be hidden. It was that thought alone that made her more comfortable during the Night. She continued walking down the lamplit street, she was carrying a shopping bag containing a few cans of food. She was heading towards an abandoned apartment lot, in one of the more rundown parts of the city. She had managed to coerce enough information out of people to find out that it would be demolished in two months.Her face turned sour as she thought about her living conditions, surely others in the grail war would have better housing. She and Jack had been spending their few days here setting up a small shelter in the building. Luckily for them, the rooms had been partially furnished. If you count a cheap sofa and a bed without sheets as furnished. Less lucky was that the apartment building had no running water electricity or even heating. The room that they lived in was slightly better off. They had wallpaper! It was certainly the best room they could find.

A voice spoke up behind her "Mother? Are you okay?" The voice instantly broke her train of thought. Taka quickly turned around to her servant. She looked up and down at the girl she had summoned. Jack was dressed in a cheap black one piece dress, which they had looted from a shop purposely going for the cheap stuff to at least mitigate the effects of their stealing. Taka let out a sigh as she smiled reassuringly at her servant. "I am fine Jack." She said with her smile still on her face. The Serial Killer nodded and smiled back like a Child. "I am glad you are." They said before they continued. "So how far do we have left to walk Mother? My feet are getting tired." Jack complained as she dragged her own feet. Taka, who knew perfectly well that Jack was lying about being tired decided to go along with her 'daughter's' childish nature. "I guess 5 or so minutes before we get back." Taka responded patting the serial killer on the head which was met by a sincere smile from the entity referred to as Jack.

They continued walking for what seemed like a few minutes as they neared their eventual location. Though it didn't seem like it would go without a hitch. As Taka and Jack walked past an alleyway on the way back, they heard the sound of a scuffle. Someone was struggling to resist a larger person. "I thought you was going to pay me." The voice pleaded desperately, The voice was female. The Larger figure was silent. Whoever they were, they was being smart.

Taka glanced over to Jack who was busy watching the scene of what might be a murder. She quickly grabbed the Spirit and quite literally dragged them out of the alleyways view of the street. They stood listening, frozen in place. Then they heard the Gunshot. Taka looked down at Jack again whom was tugging at her arm. The face of the heroic spirit wasn't childlike anymore. It was cold and leaked of murderous intent. There was only room for one killer in this City. "Do it," Taka said giving permission as she started walking away from the alleyway. Jack walking back into it. It took moments, the deed herald by the small relaxing of the drain on her mana pool. Jack wouldn't be home for a while. She would have to go on a mini killing spree to get it out of her system.

The rest of the trip went without hitch and Taka arrived back at the apartment building. The Disowned Frederick Daughter and the Legendary Serial Killer, living together under the same roof. It was like the plot of a sitcom. Taka sat on the couch, counting the relaxations in her supplication of Jacks mana. Each one signified another soul being consumed by the serial killer. Jack didn't even have to do it. Taka likened it to habit. She counted 4 across a period of a few hours before a shadow flicked into the room. Jack dropped the presence concealment and leaned on their own mother's shoulder. she was soaked with the blood of a few victims and was in her old familar attire, revealing outfit and all.

"Who did you kill this time?" Taka immediately questioned. "Three men, and a female spread across the entire city," Jack responded smiling as if she had done something good. Like she was trying to impress her mother. The repercussions of murder as a whole was so little in meaning to to Jack it was a wonderment in of itself. Taka stayed silent and just let Jack rest her head as they stared at the wall where a TV should go. They didn't have that commodity. At least their condition was better than the streets. Something that made Jack very happy. Taka couldn't say much but she was doing it on her own without help from anyone but her 'daughter' so to say, at least she was satisfied with this currently.

Taka helped Jack clean herself up as they had a small supper of Beans and Rice. The conversation they began to have was one not unheard of between a mother and daughter. They talked about their day. They planned about tomorrow, the topic of elimanting the enemy assassin coming to prominace as it would give them a better chance in this war in general. Then like the surrogate mother she liked to think herself as. Taka cleaned up her little Serial Kille r and put her in the empty bed with a blanket which was again looted from a store. Giving Jack a kiss on the forehead like a mother should do (at least in the books Taka read as a child.) She went back into the lounging area to fall asleep on the couch. It was safe to say Taka didn't want to lose Jack, her only friend since she had been completely disowned anytime soon.

Taka was walking down the streets, with Jack close behind with her presence concealed. They was looking for the enemy masters to deal with. She was on the alert and had packed her gun, hiding it on her person. They was ready. Even if the day started with Taka walking up to see Jack laying on her stomach and then the fact that she had to feed them both and all that good stuff. They was ready to deal with the enemy assassin and effectively eliminate the biggest threat.

The main issue was the time of day, though, Jack was weaker in the day and Taka knew it fully well. At least her skills would be enough to back up her assassin. As long as they had an effective escape plan they would also be fine because of Jack's Information Erasure. It was only a matter of time before they got into a fight they had to be ready. Looking up to the Sun Taka wondered just when that fight would be. Hopefully, she wouldn't die in the process.

Albert yawned sleepily, his eyes transfixed on the cheap cup of black fluid the temperature of magma that was cooling ever so slowly on the table in front of him. He gazed at it forlornly. Oh what he wouldn't give for a cup of Cafe Royal, or even monk's brew. Hell, he'd even take that disgusting Irish coffee rather than this soulless stygian sludge. But, he admitted, it was something he desperately needed after spending all night searching fruitlessly for Assassin with Berserker, someone who seemed to come into possession of a limitless reservoir of stamina and patience whenever someone uttered the word "saracen", who had refused to quit until the dawn of the morning light.

As a result, he'd slept through the whole morning, and missed his own meeting that he himself had proposed. It was an embarrassment for sure, but not one without its silver linings. Truth be told, it had never been his intention to actually attend the meeting. He'd merely suggested it as a scheme to gather a bunch of Masters in one place where he could observe them from afar and maybe stir up some trouble.

Indeed, that was why he and Berserker were currently sitting in such a relatively low-end internet cafe directly opposite the Ahnenerbe, drinking this unholy mess made of coffee beans and human suffering. He wanted to observe. Only a fool would expose himself in a situation like this, and while it was true what he'd said last night about being in direct line of sight of numerous witnesses, "acceptable losses" may as well have been the Holy Grail War's unofficial title (right next to "collateral damage" and "electric boogaloo"), and mages were not afraid to kill any number of innocents if they thought they could get away with it.

Instead, he'd watch and wait from a relatively safe distance to see who took the bait. Those who showed up and were willing to wait for him long enough to prove some level of dedication to the idea of an alliance would be rewarded with a more private consultation once night fell. Anyone else who approached the cafe but did not stay to hear him out or tried to attack would receive a nifty little bug, and a much less friendly visit after he was done negotiating with everyone else.

It was an acceptable plan, especially in his current sleep-deprived state. There was just one problem. No one had shown up. The cafe had been empty since morning, and it seemed as though it would remain that way, in defiance of all logic and common sense. It was baffling.

"Ma chère," he said sleepily to Berserker, dressed in her civilian clothes. "Do you see anyone? 'As anyone shown up yet?"

To bide his time and keep himself awake a little bit longer, he decided he'd Google Togami as promised. That was the only other good reason he could think of why he'd chosen this dump to stake out the Ahnenerbe in.

In her momentary distraction of thinking about her life and where it was going to take her, she didn't see the man walk into her. To say the least, she was surprised drawing back suddenly away from him defensive, as you would be if you lived with a serial killer. She had even just about been going to draw her firearm, which would signal to Jackie whom was 'always' nearby but had their presence concealed through presence concealment that this person was in need of the Ripper's special treatment.

It never came to that. He was polite fast enough for Taka to quickly get a level head about the situation. She relaxed her tense stance letting out a sigh of relief while doing so. "Watch where you are going in future, you almost scared me to death," Taka said with a smile as if it didn't bother her. Her eyes at the boys person taking in detail of their size and estimated weight. Her eyes drifting to his hand which was carrying a phone. "Don't tell me you was using a phone and not looking where you was going." She laughed before continuing, perhaps she could get an idea of what is going on if she asked this stranger.

"So kid, seen any strange going on's recently, in the news or anything?" She asked as she didn't really have access to the news as she didn't even own a TV in her 'apartment' that she 'owned'. Plus her own cell phone didn't exactly have anything besides the ability to call and even that was risky what with her family wanting to find her. She had cost them good money when her 'Daughter' had played with the menservants.

Jack was watching the entire conversation from a nearby roof. They were keeping out of sight as an assassin would. Their hand was constantly itching to grab upon the hilt of the knife and bring it down on the man who had dared to walk into her mother. He was very lucky though, it appeared that their 'mother' needed him for now, not to mention the fact it was daytime and she wasn't at her full potential. She continued to watch from the rooftop. If anything happened to this woman, she wouldn't know what to do. She didn't want to go back to the cold.

Albert blinked, stunned into wakefulness by the sudden intrusion. Kuro-sensei?

Yes, he remembered this man. One of his old professors back at the Clocktower, and one of the few he still liked (as well as the only person he, a short, pale French boy about as white as the snow, could ever get to call "sensei" without feeling a deep sense of shame). While he could never claim that they were friends necessarily, he did remember enjoying the time he spent in Kuro-sensei's classes. Perhaps it had something to do with his... unique sense of style and the fact that, in the Clocktower, they were both commonly considered outcasts. There was a certain kinship in that, insubstantial as it may be.

As usual, the man's mouth moved about a mile a minute, and was louder than his Hawaiian t-shirt. Albert blushed but grinned quietly when Kuro-sensei mistook Berserker for his girlfriend. A natural mistake to make, for his irresistible French charms made him a natural at picking up women (or so he liked to believe even though his record at the Clocktower matched Kuro-sensei's description exactly). It was only with patience that Albert was able to find an opening to speak in what was so far a one-sided conversation.

"Sensei, I zink you've got ze wrong idea 'ere," he said proudly but grimly. "Ma chère is... 'ow you say..."

Without a better way to explain it (at least not one that he could think of), he removed the one fingerless glove he wore to show Kuro-sensei the patterned maroon splotches that now decorated his palm. They were a symbol of his status as a Master. Anyone remotely familiar with the ritual in which he was participating should recognize them.

After showing him the Command Seals for a brief moment, Albert slipped the glove back on.

"So zat's 'ow it is. I apologize if I am not able to introduce you properly, but I zink zat by ze same logic you will understand zat zere are zings I'm just not able to tell you about 'er, no? For now..."

He thought about it a minute, then smiled devilishly.

"... you may call 'er 'Furiosa'," he said with a grand flourish. "Or 'Roly-Poly', if you prefer."

He invited him to sit. It occurred to him only a little too late that his sensei may in fact be a participant in the War himself, but the more he thought about that, the more he found it unlikely. Not many Masters would brazenly approach one another like this, not if they had any sense. Besides, his Servant was right here with him, already materialized. He had little to fear. And he trusted Kuro-sensei enough to believe that even as a fellow Master, he'd cut a former student some slack. At least the first time.

Albert smiled at the professor's kindness. The expression was hard to decipher. It had mixed feelings of amusement, pity and thankfulness all wrapped up inside it like a torte, but it was easy to see from just the boy's eyes that it contained no malice or ill-givings.

"Sensei, I appreciate your concern, but you're going to lose even more of your 'air at zis rate. You 'onestly zink I would allow ze presence of a Master to elude me? I 'ave 'ad some friends sweeping zis city from top to bottom since last night. And while I 'aven't located all ze ozer Masters just yet," on account of a mysterious number of zem dying, he thought, "I know about enough of zem zat I'm not too concerned about strangers. And look, ma chère is 'ere wiz me. Believe it or not, she is very competent 'elp. She's loud, rude, a little disobedient and she can be a 'uge pain in my ass, but I still would not 'ave chosen anyone else."

Albert smirked, his expression teasing Berserker as much as his words. As genuine as he was being, he would live to see her regret that desire for a more frank and open relationship.

"'Er strength is of course what I love about 'er, but 'er real charm is zat she would never even zink of betraying me. Even if I did sink into ze depths of 'ell like you say, I don't zink 'infidelity' is a word she knows or approves of. She's too adorably chivalric for zat. Ma chère would follow me zere wizout a second zought. After all, zere are more 'eazens to kill in 'ell zan in 'eaven."

He allowed himself a quiet chuckle at his private joke, but his expression quickly turned sour. Although he already knew he could trust her with his life, he had a lot of mixed feelings about his Servant's loyalty to him, and none of them had anything to do with her or her behavior.

He took a sip of his disgusting coffee.

"More to ze point, I don't know if 'friend' is exactly ze right word, but we are definitely more zan strangers, are we not? I trusted you enough to believe zat you would not attack me even if you were an enemy, no? Wiz zat being ze case, I would 'ave no objections to calling someone as dependable as you my ally. You are already one of ze best teachers I 'ave ever 'ad, although I'll admit I learned more about philosophy from you zan magecraft."

Albert twiddled his fingers nervously.

"So... I guess what I am trying to say is zat we are already friends, no? And, as a friend, I would appreciate any 'elp you can give me in zis war. I know you don't approve, but you don't 'ave to worry. I can take care of myself even when ma chère cannot, and I 'ave no intention of asking you to fight. I don't zink I would 'ave even if you 'ad a Servant, but involving someone wizout one in ze 'Oly Grail War is both callous and stupid. Some people may say zey can make a case for me being ze former, but I pride myself on never being ze latter. All I'd ask is for your 'elp in understanding ze locals. Japan is more zan a little foreign to me, and I'd appreciate 'aving someone to show me around, someone who knows ze streets and ze people."

As quickly as the uncharacteristic earnestness had come, it faded, and Albert grinned slyly.

"Of course, zis all 'inges on you being able to prove to me zat you aren't in fact an enemy Master like you said. By your own admission, it wouldn't be wise for me to let you leave 'ere until I know for sure, oui? So zen, do you have a syringe, or are we going to 'ave to draw some blood ze old fashioned way? Ma chère is quite proficient at zat if nozing else."