"In that case, I'll be off." Shirou conceded, rising from his seat, making certain to pick up his packed lunch from the fridge before heading on his way, Azazel turning on the television just as the Faker shut the door behind him.
For the first month or so since awakening in this new world, Shirou had done nothing but try to determine just how much it differed from his own. To his relief, the two were almost eerily similar, possessing similar histories & events that had led to the formation of modern society, so it wasn't as if he had to deal with any culture shock on the mundane front.
The Magical side of things, however, was a completely different story, evidenced by the first time he'd tried activating his circuits, only to almost kill himself as the ambient Mana surged into his body, forcing him to trace several blades in order to avoid death by Prana Overload. It was a good thing he'd had the foresight to keep Archer's Arm wrapped up; otherwise he was fairly certain the damn thing would have devoured him on the spot.
As it were, however, that brief experiment had made it very clear to Shirou that either the Laws of Magic were different in this world, or Gaea's influence wasn't as strong. Personally, Shirou was aiming towards the latter, due to the fact that, despite some time passing from his rushed trace, the Traced blades hadn't disappeared until he'd consciously ordered them to do so, leaving only one to monitor in his room until it finally disappeared a few days later.
He wouldn't be able to confirm his suspicions until he came in contact with this world's equivalent of the Association, but from what little he'd managed to observe, and the presence of various non-human entities he'd sensed wandering around town, Shirou had soon concluded that, as bizarre as it sounded, this world's Age of the Gods had yet to end, and indeed had persisted to the modern era.
For less experienced Magi, such a thing would have been seen as a dream come true, a chance for them to take their research to new heights, and perhaps even achieve their clan's goal of reaching the Akashic Record. For Shirou, who had experienced first-hand the power of those who lived through the Age of Gods, it was a daunting prospect.
Still, all work and no play made Azazel bored, and so, despite Shirou's wishes to the contrary, his inhuman guardian had enrolled him at a local high school in the hopes of preventing him from 'Missing Out on (his) Rosy High School Life'. This, more than anything, proved beyond a doubt in Shirou's mind that whatever else Azazel may be, he had to be somehow related to Taiga, as she was the only person capable of saying something so corny with a straight face.
And so, despite his protests & countless hurled objects of a sharp, pointy variety, Shirou found himself walking through the gates of the prestigious Kuoh Academy three months later as a Second-Year Transfer from Fuyuki City.
Ominous name & decidedly Western themed Architecture aside, the school wasn't all that different from Homurahara. Indeed, Shirou soon found himself drawing parallels with his Alma-mater to the point he found himself looking for familiar faces in the hallways, only to hurriedly avert his eyes in order to be mistaken as a creeper by the multitude of young women that filled them.
That was one area where Kuoh differed from Homurahara, as at its founding it had been a prestigious All-Girls School, famous for catering to the Educational Needs of Exceptional, both in terms of looks & academics, Young Women. The Academy had stood the test of time for generations, refusing to open the gates to male students until fairly recently, when the Director, for reasons Shirou had yet to find a valid explanation for, had decided to make the school Co-ed, allowing boys to enroll for the first time in generations.
No one was entirely certain just what had affected this change in policy. It certainly wasn't due to lack of funds, nor was it acceptance rates. Indeed, the entry requirements for Kuoh had actually been LOWERED in order to improve the male turnout for the year…which Shirou was ashamed to admit was probably the only reason Azazel had managed to enroll him, given his lack of school documents.
In order to compensate for this, despite Azazel assuring him that his tuition was paid in full, Shirou had fallen into his old role as 'Fake Janitor', helping out the various clubs and faculty members where needed, never asking for anything in return. Needless to say, this quickly endeared him to most of the Seniors & Staff members, earning him the, slightly more flattering nickname of 'Handyman Emiya' and, more embarrassingly, the 'Kuoh Brownie'.
It also brought him to the attention of the Student Council, a prospect that was both refreshing, in that the President reminded him a lot of his friend, Ryuudo Issei, and concerning, as she, and the entire Council for that matter, not only weren't human, but from their scent were an entirely different species from Azazel.
Fortunately, much like his caretaker, they seemed content to masquerade as ordinary humans, so for the moment he'd kept his apprehensions to himself. It certainly didn't hurt that the scent of Sona and her clique didn't send him racing for the hills, unlike a certain redheaded sempai that seemed determine to speak with him for some reason these last few months.
Kuoh Academy: Student Council Office.
"Okay," Shirou grunted, his Ochre eyes narrowing in concentration as he examined the mess of wires before him, a screwdriver gripped in his free hand "I think I see what the problem is."
"Sorry to bother you with this, Emiya-kun." Shitori Sona offered, the reserved President looking up from her paperwork to see what the redhead was doing over the rim of her glasses.
"This is the third time it's broken down this month, Kaichou." Meguri Tomoe groaned, the Secretary glaring at the offending Heater "We really should call in a repair-man."