Letters from Tohsaka

[Draconic]

Author’s Note: I am working with Réalta Nua/anime canon, so there certain ‘things’ are, or rather were less… shall we say brutal.

Letters from Tohsaka: Fuyuki

Life was miserable. It had gone straight to hell since that disaster of a Grail War. He’d never have another chance to prove himself ever again. And worse yet, it had never even been possible in the first place!

Not that Shinji cared anymore. It was much easier to just trudge through life without any expectations.

The problem was that he’d been set up! Played by his grandfather, by that phony priest, even that bastard of a Servant!

And the worst? The ultimate sleight against him? When Gilgamesh had stuck that…thing into him, the person who had saved him was Tohsaka! The girl who had repeatedly made a fool of him had actually risked her life to save his.

What kind of idiot does that?

He still couldn’t figure it out.

Even after that ordeal ended, it was Sakura who had stayed at his bedside in the hospital to help him recover. After everything he’d done to her.

Who were these people? What kind of idiots didn’t hold onto grudges against a person who had clearly had it coming? He wasn’t stupid; he knew he was asking for it at the time! He thought he was going to win! There weren’t going to be any consequences for his actions, no matter who got hurt! But of course things went sideways. Nothing in his goddamn life worked out in his favor!

And then the whole thing came to an end in the worst possible way, the Grail proven to be something out of Lovecraft, most certainly incapable of granting wishes. Probably. He wouldn’t know. He was very busy dying at the time. Now, of course, he just had a crapton of nightmares in which he relived the event over and over again almost every other night.

And of course, everyone treated him as though he was some sort of victim. He was sick of it! Sick of being powerless, sick of being a Matou, and most of all, sick of being pitied by everyone!

After getting out of the hospital, he made a silent promise to himself never to so much as look at magic again.

Right. How many hours would it be until that promise was broken into a million pieces.

* * * * *

Sakura’s school life was… questionably better ever since the Holy Grail war. Shinji wasn’t as mean as he used to be, and she was trying to show more confidence in social situations. As a rule though, one thing did bother her terribly. Scratch that; there weren’t actually any words in any language she was familiar with that could accurately describe just how much it irked her.

Specifically, it was her former sister’s relationship with Shirou Emiya. Granted, Shirou was opening up a tiny bit more, which was a plus, but now she had to deal with the threat of Tohsaka occasionally coming over for dinner in the evenings. This normally would happen in the evening on days the Archery Club was meeting up after school, but Sakura still came over after that, which resulted in an extremely awkward situation in which they would both do their best to pretend the other wasn’t there. When they did speak, they would avoid the subject begging to be addressed, and in fact, limited their interaction to small talk. Something about Rin’s temperament seemed…off…however. Like something was bothering her. Sakura couldn’t imagine what could possibly be upsetting her though, with her perfect life, and her perfect army of admirers, and her perfect boyfriend-her-sister-had-been-trying-to-impress-ever-since-she-met-him! What had Rin ever done that was so special?! Other than live in her parasite-free home with a family that loved her? No… she knew it wasn’t fair to say that, but arrgghh! It was so, so frustrating!

Every time she slipped into this train of thought, she ended up feeling incredibly lonely. A longing for the boy she loved, and a hollowness that only her older sister could fill. Yet, neither of those people could do anything for her anymore. She would leave shortly after her mood soured, not wanting Shirou to see a side of her that he wouldn’t like. She continued going over to his house, and she continued smiling, but it never felt quite right anymore.

It wasn’t fair.

The thought that Rin might have been a tiny bit ashamed by the prospect of facing her never even crossed her mind.


* * * * *


That year, in an uncharacteristic storm of initiative, Shinji decided to make sure that his post-secondary education started as soon as possible after high school ended, though it had still been another full year away.

Emiya had actually congratulated him for planning his future in advance, but was promptly told off by Tohsaka. Much to Shinji’s irritation, she never called him by his name anymore. First or last. Instead, she had taken to calling him ‘the weasel,’ even in front of teachers, which, if he was being honest with himself, would have been gut bustingly hilarious if she had been referring to anyone else! But nope, she was a huge bitch as per the usual.

And he hadn’t missed the fact that she was spending no small amount of time with Emiya. Of course, everyone had noticed that; she was the school idol after all. The fact that she was unofficially going out with Homurahara Academy’s fake janitor was beyond the pale in the student body’s collective opinion, causing most of the school to look upon her relationship and the object of her fancy, either in awe or jealousy. However, despite the habit she had recently developed of grabbing Emiya out of his seat every other day at lunch break and taking him up to the roof, she was very adamant in completely denying they were in a relationship. This went on right up until their year’s last day, at which point she spilled, as though it were some big secret. She almost certainly knew it wasn’t, and was just going public with it to be obnoxious.

This did give him an opportunity to see the look of complete loathing on the student council president’s face though. It was hysterical to look at. He’d suspected that Ryuudo batted for the other team and had a thing for Emiya for a while now. Funny or not, it was still old news.

As he looked over university options, he began to take a liking to computers. He already liked video games and this was a natural step up from that, though it would involve a fair bit of work. Also, he wanted to take something at the very opposite end of the gap between mystical and mundane, even if only to spite magecraft. So once he passed his tests, he applied for courses in computer science and webpage development. Things that would make mages want to stay as far away from him as possible. Possibly even make a few particularly technologically inept run away screaming in terror.

That was probably wishful thinking, but whatever the case, a lot of mages didn’t even know how to use computers in the first place!

Unfortunately, it was too much to hope for that school would end uneventfully. Though he hadn’t realized it at the time, he probably had been too obvious about how much he wanted to distance himself from magecraft, because early on that year, his grandfather called him to the worm pit. When he reached the lower landing, the ancient wormridden freak was waiting for him. He said only three words:

“Please, step inside.”

Shinji was suspicious, but he was sure that his grandfather was still able to use him, so why would he do anything to cause him harm? On the one hand, after everything Zouken had said about him, this was more than a little strange. On the other hand, he was already down in the pit, it wasn’t like he could run away at that point.

He knew it was stupid. He knew it was reckless. But he found he couldn’t ignore the opportunity to become a mage. He had to take it. It was a calculated risk. And he was getting good at math, so—

He calculated wrong, and he quickly realized this after reaching the bottom. He most certainly wasn’t being implanted with crest worms. He was just being offered up as a snack for the decrepit old freak’s pets. In retrospect, it seemed terribly predictable.

No matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t actually capable of dislodging the crest worms. Thousands, possibly millions of razor sharp teeth had started chewing on him. Everywhere. He didn’t remember screaming, but he probably had been making a lot of noise, because the next thing he knew, he was back in the hospital, with Sakura once again sitting at his bedside.

“What were you thinking!” she demanded, “Of course grandfather would let you into the pit! He couldn’t use you anymore, so it’s just expected that he’d just eat you for your mana!”

“How was I supposed to know he’d—”

“Because you’ve watched what he’s done to me!”

“Shut the hell up! How was I supposed to know that he’d throw me away on a whim? He never throws away a pawn!”

“But you aren’t his pawn anymore! You haven’t been his pawn in years! All you are to him now is dead weight! You should have known better than to go down there in the first place!”

“Where the hell could I go instead? He’s fricking everywhere in this goddamn city!”

“Anywhere! Are you trying to get yourself killed! Next time I should just leave you to whatever fate has in store for you! I’m in trouble now anyway.”

He had never actually seen Sakura get angry before. She always backed down. She never stood up for herself, so what the hell was this?

“Dead weight am I?” he snarled. Pushing himself upright and nearly getting off the hospital bed. “I’ll show you who’s—” he got cut off as a strangled gasp worked its way out of his throat. He looked down to see that most of his body was covered in bandages. Putting pressure on anything hurt like hell.

“I… gah! What… what the hell is this?!”

“Well, unless you’re me, getting eaten by grandfather’s worms kills you.”

“First that fucking Grail War, now this.”

The room fell silent.

“Just… don’t scare me like that,” she said, her voice monotone. She stood up and walked out of the room leaving him by himself.

And for the first time, Shinji didn’t feel like she pitied him. But what he thought she felt really didn’t make him feel better. It was over a month before he actually asked her why she’d rescued him.

A few days after he got out of the hospital again, they were back to their high school routine. She had just gone back to her usual pathetically timid self for the most part, but considering Ayako was training her to be the next captain of the Archery Club, she was actually growing bolder. And not insignificantly. She was talking to other people without nearly as much difficulty as she had the year before. In a weird and kind of unpleasant sort of way, he was actually kind of proud of her. Suffice to say that after getting out of the hospital, he wasn’t physically abusing her anymore, though he still occasionally smacked her if she did something incredibly stupid, like suggesting he join her for breakfast at Emiya’s house during one of her uncommon (and somewhat disturbing) upbeat moments, but if anything, he had actually gotten a fair bit tamer since the Grail War. He decided it probably made sense considering that Sakura was the only one to visit him more than once while he was in the hospital, but it was still an unexpected change in his personality, and that bothered him. One day, without actually thinking about it, he just asked why she’d bothered to pull him out of the pit.

Sakura’s answer?

“You’re my big brother.”

She didn’t say anything else. Neither did he. How the hell was he even supposed to respond to that? And after he had made a point of making life miserable for her? This girl was insane!

At least his grandfather wasn’t actively trying to kill him. Hoo-fuckin’-rah. Apparently, Zouken was still interested in keeping up appearances. He was even still head of the parent-teacher association. Shinji and Sakura were always quietly horrified each time there was a PTA meeting. It’s not even that he did anything unseemly there; in fact, according to Miss Fujimura, aside from the weird smell, he seemed like the perfect grandparent. Which somehow only made the whole affair that much creepier.

* * * * *

Shinji’s recovery was timely enough that he was able to catch up with the rest of his class before exams started. By the time his year graduated, he was ready to start looking for ways to advance his new mage-repellent lifestyle. And for a change, things appeared to be working out for him. It seemed like his luck was finally beginning to turn.

The day that Tohsaka left Japan with Emiya was positively traumatic for his sister. She had known it was coming. She knew that her genius sister was going to London to study magecraft at the Clock Tower, or whatever it was called. She had put up a brave face for them the day before the two mages left, but the minute the plane left the ground, Sakura’s mood plunged below sea level. Every day it was either, “Why does she always, always get everything?!” or, “Why did Senpai have to go with her?!” or some other rhetorical question that frequently started with ‘why.’

Tohsaka’s departure also meant that as the only person with any direct connection to the Tohsaka family left in Fuyuki, Rin had thrust the role of Second Owner upon her sister, who couldn’t protect the city from so much as a flea because using magecraft would cause her pain the likes of which Tohsaka probably couldn’t even imagine.

Sakura bemoaned her woes to him constantly when he was around. It was almost intolerable—no, scratch that—it was well past intolerable! She grew more high strung than a tenement clothesline.

Eventually though, Sakura began to notice that something about the way she was acting wasn’t quite right, to say the least, and without even talking to Shinji about it, she had gone to a pharmacy and had decided to try getting a prescription for anti-anxiety medication.

It was behind the counter, so she had to meet with with the pharmacist, however, and that led to its own issues. She had to get a doctor’s note if she was going to be prescribed anything, but she had never seen a doctor in her life! After another day of searching for someone, she made an appointment to meet with with a psychologist yet another day later. The whole affair was proving to be quite stressful in its own right.

The meeting lasted a little over an hour, and after an unsteady conversation which Sakura was terrified would delve into dangerous territory, the woman told her that she had no psychological disorders as far as she could tell from just one session, but was unquestionably under an inordinate amount of stress. When Sakura asked if there was anything she could take to help with that, the doctor said that the most helpful thing to do would be to have a few more sessions to talk about her problems, but the suggestion was politely declined. Unless the woman was secretly a very atypical mage who was in the business of helping other mages, there weren’t very many problems she could talk about. Though the psychiatrist was disappointed, she nevertheless prescribed Sakura with something she couldn’t pronounce, and sent her on her way. But she had been courteous enough about it, and certainly was careful about choosing the medication she was putting her on.

When she returned to the drug store that afternoon, she was met by the same pharmacist as before and was politely given a container of surprisingly expensive tablets. There were very, very few good things about the Matou family, the last of them having died over ten years ago, but at least the family fortune could do her some good once in a while.

The instructions on the bottle said the pills were to be taken once every morning. She was disappointed that nothing changed. Although after a week, Shinji stopped nagging her to stop whining about how much her life sucked.

The new school term started, and as Sakura began her final year of high school, Shinji started his technologically oriented university courses.

He discovered early on that Ayako was going to the same school as him, but only for one class, and it wasn’t one she shared with him, though it was in the same building. For the most part, she was going to a college two cities over in Mifune on a sports scholarship. Strangely enough, she was taking courses in the fields of business and management. Seemed out of character for her, but why bother asking, right? He didn’t want her to talk his ear off. That said, it couldn’t always be avoided. And mistakes happened.

“Why exactly are you still living here though?” he asked once, “Wouldn’t it be, I dunno, a lot more convenient to stay in Mifune if you’re going to university there?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve also got a class here. Besides, I’m sure not paying for student housing. Not everyone’s from an extravagantly wealthy family like you are, Matou.”

His only response to that was a roll of his eyes and a shrug, which she summarily ignored.

“Come to think of it,” she remembered, “I thought you couldn’t stand Fuyuki. I mean, every time I saw you before high school ended, you always seemed really uncomfortable.”

“You are so far off the mark there, that it’d be hilarious if it weren’t just as annoying,” and one hell of a relief. “But believe me, if I could ditch this craphouse of a city, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“Huh… I see. So I take it you’re sticking around for the long haul?”

“Yes, sad to say.”

“In that case, if you aren’t too busy, I just bought a new game system. Nothing new, but the price was unbeatable—”

“Mitsuzuri suddenly realized she had betrayed her real reason for being stingy in regards to student housing,” Shinji sneered as he narrated his fictitious take on her statement, “and she—”

“Oh, shut up, you moron,” she rolled her eyes. “So, you in?”

“You really don’t let anything get to you, do you?”

“You have no idea,” she smirked back at him with the kind of cockiness that he wished he still had.

“Sure, why not. I’m bored of reading through manuals anyway.”

Ayako’s face brightened.

“Well, that’s a surprise. Thanks for the assist.”

“I’m agreeing to play video games with you. It’s not like I’m doing anything.”

“Trust me, you really are.”

“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m about to start a losing streak with a ratio of a hundred percent?” he grumbled.

* * * * *

Zouken had seemed somewhat disdainful toward the laptop computer Shinji had bought for his university career. No surprise there, but as far as he was concerned, his grandfather could have whatever opinion he wanted about technology as long as old freak wasn’t setting the worms on him again. Though it was for that exact reason that he was worried by his grandfather’s refusal to let him live in student housing. Even more worrying was that everything he owned was bought with money from the Matou coffers. And that included his tuition. The only thing it would take for all of that to go away was a whim on the part of his grandfather.

He stopped using his computer at home. Not coincidentally, he started seeing Ayako around a fair bit more.

As the year progressed, Shinji decided that things were far too good to be true, if he was being honest with himself. He wasn’t afraid for his life, Sakura’s demeanour was (gradually) improving, and not only did he enjoy the majority of his courses, but he was coming to realize that he was actually good at this programming stuff. Ugh, he was probably going to have to thank Ayako for pushing him to keep up with his work in high school whenever he started losing his momentum. That wouldn’t be fun. But the courses were, meaning that he could now
a. Not work hard,
b. Get good grades anyway, and
c. Wait for the goddamn penny to drop, as he knew it would. This couldn’t possibly last. It was way too good to be happening for him, of all people.

Well, he supposed that he was working hard in a sense, but he was enjoying himself for the most part. Did he really have to think of it as work?

Maybe if he did, he could throw Murphy’s Laws of Causality off by a bit. But it wasn’t likely.

But the year trudged by, and still nothing happened to him. No being devoured by worms, no looming threat of death, no gigantic eldritch horrors using him as a host—and he was still having nightmares about that—just daily life. Almost like he were the kind of normal person who didn’t live in the House of Perpetual Worm Horrors.

It was around this time that Sakura began receiving letters from her sister. They had been sent to Fuyuki using Miss Fujimura as a proxy. Rin’s excuse was that all her previous letters had been returned to her. He had to admit, that bitch had thought this through. After all, if the letters had been sent to their house, they would likely have either been destroyed immediately upon arrival, or worse, there would have been some sort of punishment for both him and his sister.
He had expected Sakura to be happy to hear from her sister, but it turned out he was wrong about that too.

“Why now?” she asked, waving the thickly filled envelope at Shinji. “Why didn’t she ever try speak with me when she was still here?”

Shinji wasn’t the type to be sympathetic, and his only response was a sighed, “Take a guess.”

She had to admit that she could easily guess what the problem had been, and it was lurking in their basement as well as everywhere she went. She nodded, but it looked like the thought only made her feel worse.

Now, Shinji wasn’t sympathetic, but he also happened to remember a rather unpleasant conversation he’d had with Tohsaka before the Grail War. This stray thought led him to an idea.

“I’m sure you remember Tohsaka dropped by the Archery dojo quite a bit. I mean, she tried to hide from everyone, but she still was watching someone practice. She wasn’t watching me, because she hates my guts—her loss—and she hung around after Emiya quit the club too,” he paused, giving her some time to process this information, hoping she could see where he was going with this and that he wouldn’t have to spell it out. “So what do you think she was doing wasting her afternoons watching a bunch of kids shooting targets over and over again?”

Sakura shrugged.

“Why are you asking me?” she asked sullenly, “You sound like you already know.”

He heaved out another sigh. So she was going to make him spell it out for her.

“Look, I can’t say anything for sure, but she was probably watching you.”

“If she was, then why didn’t she ever say anything?”

“You were told that you weren’t allowed to think of her as your sister in the first place, right? So maybe she was too. In her own way, her creepy little spying act might have been her way of looking out for you. And for the record, I once noticed her following me home one evening. Well, actually I saw someone in a long red jacket, they were too far away to make out, but it could have been her.

The corner of his mouth twisted upward into a sneer.

“Maybe she was just scared of what you’d think of her, or didn’t know what she would say. If your reaction just now is anything to go off of, she might have been right.”

He chuckled.

“But really, what would she have said? ‘Hi, Sakura it’s me, Rin, your estranged sister who hasn’t bothered to talk to you in god knows how many years, just thought I’d drop by to say hello.’ “ He continued snickering. “It’s funny because I can imagine her saying that, if only sarcastically.”

Sakura just huffed at his remark and tossed the letter onto a sideboard.

“W-Well if she really was scared that’s just fine with me, because she should have been.”

She folded her arms, looking away from the letter.

If Tohsaka had expected to get a reply, Sakura was determined not to give one.

* * * * *

A week went by…

Then two…

Then three…

Sakura didn’t spare a moment’s attention to the envelope in the living room.

The fourth week came and went.

They were approaching the ends of their respective academic terms. He was putting the finishing touches on a simple program he would be presenting, along with a short paper, as his culminating assignment for the year, and Sakura was studying for her upcoming final exams. Unlike him however, she hadn’t applied to a university.

A fifth week passed. Sakura spent it in her room, working diligently. Dust began to appear on the envelope, and still, she ignored the letter.

But then a second letter arrived… Like the first, she didn’t open it either. But the subsequent week, yet another letter showed up. What in the world was all this? Tohsaka wrote a letter, didn’t bother to say anything else for a month and a half, not even to ask whether the first letter arrived, and suddenly she was sending them once a week?

Or not?

Nothing arrived the week after that. But it still, it begged the question; if mail wasn’t getting any results, why didn’t Tohsaka just call her sister over the phone?

Despite getting good enough grades to get into a decent school, Sakura still hadn’t chosen any path in life, much to her teachers’ anxiety. It was the last week of testing when Miss Fujimura caught Sakura as she was leaving her English exam.
She had gotten another letter from Tohsaka.

…she really needed to refill her prescription…

* * * * *

Unfortunately, after Sakura graduated, things finally went south again, and the World returned to its normal routine of throwing shit at his life. And boy did it throw shit. Things around the Matou house began to get rather strange.

Specifically, it appeared almost as though something was haunting them. Household objects would move of their own accord. Their prized possessions would vanish for hours, days even, and reappear later. Worse was when things disappeared for minutes or even seconds at a time. As such instances began to take place more often, Shinji and Sakura both began to call their sanity into question.

More unpleasantly, blood would occasionally leak from the walls, or pool on the floor, and then vanish when they blinked. Of course, that could just be crest worms exploding behind the paneling, but why would that be happening in the first place? And how was it disappearing? More troubling was was when they would turn on a faucet and get blood instead of water. Sakura screamed whenever that happened, during the first month, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d gotten blood from the showerhead himself, and if anyone didn’t consider that nightmare fuel, they were either psychotic, or disaffected as… well… a mage. Shit.

The first month of Summer crawled by, with no word from Tohsaka. July came to an end and it seemed that Tohsaka had finally given up on sending letters.

Shinji and Sakura started accompanying each other around the mansion just to make sure that one or the other of them would notice when an object moved or went missing. They weren’t having much luck.

The poltergeisting eventually came to a head, though it was less ‘eventual,’ and more ‘by the end of the month.’ And it peaked, at violent attacks against the house’s non-magus occupant. It was almost as though the house itself was actively trying to kill Shinji. One day, furniture would fall on him. The next, he’d find himself trapped inside a room by a bounded field, while heavy objects started falling off their shelves. Getting through the day alive began to feel like a chore, and he couldn’t even do a damn thing about it.

It wasn’t like he could go anywhere else. Nobody wanted him around for very long. Their loss of course, but he still needed to find a way to stay out of the house for as long as he possibly could. He couldn’t really stay with Mitsuzuri, either. She may have had more patience for him than most, but that also meant it would be a crying shame if he ruined that relationship. And heaven forbid she should ever find out about what he had Rider do to her.

He couldn’t try to sleep in the streets. The one time he slept in an alleyway, he woke up covered with worms. Yes, they were indeed of the crest variety. Fortunately there weren’t too many, so he managed to dislodge them all, but it was a clear message: No matter where he went, he couldn’t escape the Matou house.

Just under a month into his second year at university, Shinji had actually begun volunteering at Homurahara on days he didn’t have classes to help Taiga coach the Archery Club. The hyperactive tiger had admittedly taken a lot of convincing, since he had always been decidedly against helping others free of charge. It helped that Sakura vouched for him, having been captain of the Archery Club the previous year. This of course didn’t actually hold any weight, but Sakura was a long-time friend at this point so eventually she allowed it. Though she wasn’t all too thrilled that he was always complaining that he couldn’t stand half of the students in the club.

He came to really appreciate Miss Fujimura’s leniency in allowing him to practice his shooting. He wasn’t so naïve as to think that he would last much longer if his concentration wasn’t up to snuff.

He did all his studying and assignments at the campus library, and would avoid going home for as long as he possibly could. Ayako would occasionally find him there at particularly late hours, half-asleep at his laptop, trying to finish one more line despite not being able to focus long enough to remember what he was typing. She generally urged him to go home at this point.

Nothing seemed to help. Eventually, he had to leave whatever venue he was haunting. In the case of the library, he still had to go home eventually, whether it was at Ayako’s behest, or just because the library was closing up for the night. And so he still needed to watch out for bookshelves falling on him.

Tohsaka’s fifth letter arrived at the end of the month.

* * * * *

As the incidents in their house grew more and more frequent, Sakura asked her grandfather what they should do about them. Zouken had merely given a short cackle and said, “Heh! Then he should sit still and die, instead of allowing this so-called ghost of yours to keep putting dents in the walls.”

She should have guessed that he would answer in such a way. She couldn’t say she understood her grandfather (nor did she want to), but if there was anything she could count on from him, it was inhuman cruelty.

The attacks were happening once a week at this point.

Her monthly routine was jostled a few days later when the pharmacist at the drugstore got replaced. The new hire was only conspicuous because of her reddish hair, but aside from that, she wasn’t really that different from the previous employee. She found that she missed the old one. They had a rapport. But the new pharmacist was nice enough. She supposed she’d just have to get used to her.


* * * * *

The month after that, the sixth letter came, and maybe it was just the meds influencing her behavior, but Sakura finally found herself too curious to resist. She didn’t open the one she had just received, opting to pick one up at random.

She figured out later that it was the fourth one based on the dates written in the top left corner of the stationary. They were written in black ink, [and there were a few sections that were crossed out but still somewhat legible.]


Dear Sakura,

I know I’ve said this in each one of my previous letters, but I understand if you don’t want to write back. I really meant it when I said I wanted to make up for never having been there, and I’ll do whatever it takes… I think the staff might be trying to stop me from doing that. I never don’t have an urgent project that needs my attention these days. The workload here is insane, and it doesn’t help that Luvia’s still going after Emiya. That stupid cow just doesn’t give up! I mean, seriously, who does she think she is?

A bit of reference, since I keep mentioning her, Luvia owns our apartment building, and lives on the floor above ours. Apparently she and Emiya got lost together and at some point she offered to give us an apartment in exchange for him doing a few chores. Of course we accepted, the apartment was great, it’s close to the Clock Tower, and there was no way we’d get a better deal. But it turns out that she wanted to hire him on as a butler. Which I’ll admit he’s probably fabulous at, but he’s my butler, not hers! And not once has she ever pronounced his name correctly. She says ‘shero,’ like some sort of idiot. Stupid fancy stuck-up princess. I mean, you’ve never met anyone like her.

Okay, I’m going to change the subject because if I don’t Shirou says he won’t make breakfast tomorrow. Which is vital because I’m like a sloth in the morning. Thank heaven for caffeine.

Sorry, I’m really just talking about myself.

Is everything okay back in Fuyuki? Shinji isn’t bothering you too much, right?

I know I’ve said this twice already, but if there’s anything strange going on, if there’s anything I can do to help you, I’ll do it, even if it means hopping on a plane back to Fuyuki.

Anyway, I hope all is well.

Hoping to hear from you,

Rin


Sakura wasn’t impressed, slapping the letter back down on the table and stalking off. But Rin must have done something right, because the following day, Sakura started writing a response, sitting at the mostly unused vanity in her room

Shinji, curious as to what she was doing, got off the side of her bed and looked over her shoulder. He realized that he didn’t have a snappy response on hand, so he just shrugged, went, “huh,” and sat back down against the side of her bed where it met the wall on both sides.

She paid him no mind.


Dear Tohsaka,

Thank you for writing. Things are about what you’d expect. Not great, but I can’t complain either.

Shinji hasn’t had much time to pick on me. The house has been trying to kill him for some reason, and nobody wants to put him up for any period of time, so it’s up to me to keep him safe.

So, I guess I can complain after all. Even though Shinji never hits me anymore, the house is just coming to life and doing it anyway.

Speaking of being alive, Zouken is extremely old. He’s definitely not actually anyone’s grandfather. Maybe a great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, but there is no reason he should be alive right now. And there is nothing great about him. If you ever saw him, you’d understand. He looks like a corpse, and his eyes are scary. I don’t know why your father trusted him, because one look in his eyes is enough to see there’s something wrong with him. But you probably already know all that.

Given the choice between you and this Luvia girl having Senpai, I would prefer it if he stayed with you. So, show this other girl (she scratched the word ‘bitch’ off the page until the paper there was almost transparent.) who’s in charge.
(Seriously though, she had no idea how she had even worked up the nerve to write it in the first place.)

Please don’t give me details on your relationship though.

It’s funny you should mention that he wakes you up in the morning, because I sometimes woke him up during high-school.

Okay, I’ll admit that was meant to be another passive-aggressive jab, but I still have to wonder, how did he manage to sleep on a concrete floor? Having fallen asleep in a few uncomfortable places myself, I’ll admit I’m not in the best position to judge, but on the few occasions he wasn’t awake when I got there, he was rarely in his room. I’d always find him sprawled out in the storage shed. Have you gotten any insight into that?

You can’t get up in the morning? That’s strange. You always seemed to lead a perfect life. It seems strange to think that you would have any flaws. Kind of like you’re lying. But just in case you’re not, I’ve been getting up before sunrise for years.

Your sister,
Regards,
From,

Sakura Matou


The next letter arrived the very next week. It carried with it some unpleasant news. Somehow though, she couldn’t bring herself to care.


Dear Sakura,

I’m sorry to have upset you.

I’ll admit I probably deserve any and all criticism you have for me. If railing on me makes you feel better, I won’t complain. I don’t have the right. And if Emiya wasn’t sitting here breathing down my neck, there is no way I would ever have admitted that.

Life was far from perfect, and it was selfish of me to let you think so. It wasn’t fair for me to make you feel jealous, especially considering that I barely know anything about your situation.

Father died not too long after you were taken away, and shortly after that, Mother suffered some sort of head injury, and… you don’t even want to know. It was almost terrifying to listen to her. She thought that you and Father were still around, and was always talking to these phantoms.

After she died, that freaky priest became my guardian. You know the creepy man who runs the church in New City? Him. He used to be Father’s apprentice. He’s dead now. I wish it had been messier.

I’m torn between feeling glad you thought I lived a perfect life, and feeling guilty for not being honest with you. The whole thing was an act. I’m something of a pleasure-seeker, and I get a sense of satisfaction from making people envy me. That was the reason I came to school. It was all a game to me. Except in your case and eventually Emiya’s. I only got perfect grades, joined the student council, and made myself look perfect because I wanted everyone to think I was the blessed heir to the Tohsaka family, when in fact I was just a jaded orphan, with an absent and ultimately sociopathic guardian. He tried to kill me in the Holy Grail War.

Shinji has a rape-dance by the way. Not entirely unrelated.

The student council president was really the only normal person who saw through my ruse, even partially. He was pretty sharp for a regular human.

Oh, also, Shirou’s told me once or twice that I have a short temper, that I hold really long grudges, and that I’m overconfident because of my natural talent. But I don’t believe any of that…

I really wish I had done more. I’m probably going to regret it for the rest of my life, and it kind of serves me right.

Emiya’s telling me that isn’t true, but he has a thing for always seeing the best in people he likes. Which is really dumb, and he has to stop. He has to start seeing the world in more than just black and white.

That’s one of my projects here actually; Shirou-Rehab. He was in a big disaster as a child, and since he survived, it’s like he believes his life doesn’t belong to him. So yeah, he’s crazy. And if he weren’t sitting right next to me breathing down my neck, I wouldn’t have felt the need to write that.

By the way, if everything sucks, go find a puppy. They can solve all your problems for hours. Which is a proven fact: Even Shirou isn’t immune.

Wishing you a reversal of fortune,

Rin

P.S. Shirou slept on concrete?!? Well, this explains a lot. Like why he says that our hardwood floor is comfortable. And yes, he has actually said that. There’s even a sofa right next to him, but nope, he wants the floor.


So, Rin wasn’t perfect after all. What a pleasant surprise. And she was an arrogant, temperamental liar. Wait, no! These were bad thoughts!

She wished she could get rid of the part of her that insisted that her parents got their just deserts for abandoning her to Zouken Matou. She knew it wasn’t fair, but she just…

Hold on.

She turned sideways in her chair, and looked at Shinji, sitting on the other side of the room reading some sort of tech magazine.

“You have a ‘rape dance?’ “ she asked, staring at him through half-lidded eyes.

“WHAT THE CRUNCHY FUCK?!”

Sakura hadn’t realized his voice could reach that pitch.

“Oh, so you were just doing that thing where you start dancing around and giggling when you think you’re about to win?”

“I don’t do that!”

“Except you do.”

“Shut your mouth, you brainless little shit!” he screamed, throwing his magazine at her. It fell short by a long shot and flapped pathetically to the ground. “Oh come on…” he grumbled.

Shut down, she turned back to Rin’s letter.

This time, Sakura wrote back immediately.


Dear Tohsaka,

I’m sorry about your parents. I didn’t know. (She resisted the urge to write ‘But your father got what he deserved,’ as well as ‘and yes, it does serve you right.’)

I don’t know who the priest you’re talking about is.

Senpai’s still sleeping on the floor?! Why!? And I didn’t know he was caught up in a disaster. So you’re trying to make him realize that he can still live his life for himself, or something? (“Why can’t I be the one doing that?!” she sulked.)

Animals don’t tend to like me. (She nearly wrote something about the crest worms, but stopped herself well before she thought about putting pen to paper.)

Do you think that Senpai might be able to write me once in a while too?

From,
Regards,

Sakura Matou


She soon found herself looking forward to her weekly correspondence with Rin. If nothing else, it was a good way to vent her frustrations, and sometimes she even thought that she might be warming up to her sister, although she smothered these thoughts whenever they arose: She didn’t know how she should feel about all this yet, and more importantly she was definitely still jealous of her sister’s relationship with Shirou.

Of course, there was also one recurring theme in Rin’s letters that bothered her even more than that: Now there was another girl trying to steal him? When would it end?! Naturally, that just meant war! Though she would not support Rin’s relationship with Shirou, and vowed she never would, she would do everything she could to support Rin’s efforts to chase Luvia off their turf. They had Shirou first, so hands off! And when Rin came back to Fuyuki, she could keep trying to win over Shirou again. She hoped that time didn’t come soon. She had no idea how she would act toward her sister and…her sister’s boyfriend. Darn it!

In any case she would sooner have Shirou close to the family than see him going out with some stranger. Hopefully, Shirou wouldn’t be interested in Luvia’s advances.

Evidently, Rin had passed along the message for Shirou to write as well. Eventually, she stopped making subtle jabs at Rin (for the most part) and they settled into polite conversation.

Zouken hadn’t shown any sign of having noticed the letters, or if he had, he wasn’t doing anything about it. She hoped to keep it that way.

The poltergeisting attacks were getting worse, and creepier to boot. Shinji had told her that he had felt like fingers were closing around his throat the moment before she had come inside the other day. And she actually saw a knife detach itself from the rack in the kitchen and hurl itself at him. As for her, she found herself being thrown into the worm pit every now and again. She had avoided going in for as long as she possibly could but once a week, she found herself grabbed by… something, and thrown from the second floor landing into the nightmarish cellar. There were patches of extremely humid, yet cold air seemingly scattered throughout the house, but they never stayed in the same place. Not as disturbing as blood from the walls and the taps, but still disconcerting.

They both needed a solution to this.

* * * * *

Sakura was on her way home from sending one of her letters when she nearly collapsed. Fortunately she was close enough to the Matou house that she was able to stave off the effects of whatever she had come down with long enough to get inside. She felt feverish and staggered her way to a bathroom to find a thermometer, thanking her lucky stars that it hadn’t vanished on her like so many other things. She stopped thanking them when she saw her temperature.

Shinji came home to hear the moaning coming from her room.

“Can you cut that out, I still need to do some reading and—woah,” he cut himself off as he saw the state she was in. She had the comforter on half-covering her, and she was laying with an arm and a leg hanging off the side of her bed.

“Uh, not to sound concerned or anything, but are you going to be okay?”

She whined unintelligibly in response.

“Okay, that’s a no,” he said, taking a look at her face. “Shit! You’re white as a corpse!”

“…I know…” she gurgled. She actually didn’t, but she kind of figured.

Shinji checked the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and checked to see if there was anything to relieve fever symptoms, and of course finding nothing because it was intended that Sakura be in near-constant pain her entire life, so of course they wouldn’t have any pain relief medicine. There was also the small detail that she also had incredibly high pain tolerance after being tortured for so long, so if she was actually suffering from something as comparatively tame as a fever, then it had to be extremely bad. Sure he didn’t exactly like his sister, but he didn’t exactly want her to die either.

“Hold on, I’ll go back out and see if there’s anywhere still open that sells stuff for fevers. If you think you’re dying, don’t. I’m not dealing with that. Besides, Tohsaka would flay me alive if I let anything happen to you.”

“Mhm…” she answered with complete apathy. She felt like death warmed up with a side of bubonic plague. Not that she knew how that felt, but nevertheless.

When Shinji came back, the first thing he did was check on her, which Sakura appreciated, if she was being honest, but he had left the medicine he bought in the front hall. When he left to go get them, he returned a minute later and was forced to say:

“So, not too long ago, you’d have thought I was lying, but as you’ve probably guessed from my tone, the meds I got you just disappeared.”

She believed him completely, and tried to say so, but she barely managed a whimper. Then she retched.

She jumped out of bed and staggered to the bathroom and threw up more than she thought could possibly have been in her stomach and groaned in total misery… until she noticed what she had heaved into the toilet.

Despite all the pain she was in, she laughed. She laughed hysterically, like a complete maniac.

She looked at the contents of the toilet one more time just to be sure she had really seen what she hoped she did. They were still there.

Crest worms.

A lot of them.

That explained all the pain she was in, and all of a sudden she thought she might have suddenly gotten really into masochism. It didn’t matter how much pain she was in, because if she was expelling crest worms, she was beyond ecstatic.

“Okay,” Shinji leered at her, “so you’ve either gone completely insane, or—okay, that is disgusting but not the disgusting I was expecting.”

She managed one last giggle and then rasped out three words:

“Get the bleach.”

Whether she was hoping to poison them if they weren’t already dead or just wanted to erase any trace of them having been there, he didn’t really care. He fetched it for her anyway.

“Don’t get used to me helping you out. The moment you can stand up straight again, you’re doing everything on your own again.”

“Gladly.”

She was already feeling better. Better than she had in years in fact.

That aside, she still asked Rin if she had any recommendations in the vein of exorcising mischievous, or malicious spirits.

* * * * *

Dear Sakura,

Hope all is well. Living situation improving any? The weasel isn’t being a total prick to you is he? Because I can curse him through the next letter if you want. Please tell me to curse him. I can make him perceive directions as colors.

Did my suggestions work, by the way? The priests at Ryuudou temple may not be aware of magecraft, but their practices are based on Mysteries.

Sorry to make this letter so short, but I won’t have time to write very much for the next week. I kind of accidentally overthrew Shirou’s non-paranoid magus after-school-club and now we’re actually doing something that could actually be considered important.
I’ll be in contact again before the end of the month.

Your sister,

Rin


* * * * *

More and more often, the house would try to attack him. Almost three times a week now.

Curiously enough, these dangerous episodes would never occur while Sakura was nearby.

But that too would pass.

Over the course of a year of correspondence, Sakura had stopped calling her sister by her last name. It wasn’t much, but it was progress. She was surprisingly glad that she and her sister were getting along. She still wanted her Shirou back though.
Wait, what was she thinking? Shirou didn’t belong to anyone! He was his own person!

Wasn’t he? Bad Sakura! Bad!


Dear Rin,

Thank you for the stationary. In response to your question, Shinji and I are getting along better than we ever have, (He’s also very perturbed that you’re still calling him a weasel she added to the margin) although that may be entirely due to the fact that the house stops trying to kill him when I’m around.

Yes, we are still having that problem. And no, sutras, crosses, and your various other exorcism suggestions did not work. And if I go back to Ryuudou temple to ask for their help again, they’re all going to think I’m crazy.

All this being the case, this may sound strange, but if I were to attempt to start learning Magecraft, what would be a good place to begin?

Your sister,

Sakura


* * * * *

Sakura had just dropped her latest letter off at the post office and picked up her refilled prescription—She was still nervous, but her separation irritability was gone according to Shinji. She had also been more assertive lately, and she was less nervous than ever. These pills were really working wonders!… and yes, she decided, she definitely needed to stop taking them before she let herself develop an addiction…

She had come home late in the afternoon and was getting an early start on dinner when she noticed…something…in the kitchen with her and Shinji. As the vicinity around Sakura seemed to be a ‘safe zone’ of sorts, Shinji had taken to following her around wherever she went as long as he was in the house. Right now he was sitting at the table playing a video game.

And then something was standing next to her. She couldn’t see anything, but one of those frigid, humid patches they would find around the house was now just to her left. Not one of the humid spots, she abruptly realized. The humid spot. She suddenly had the feeling that she and her brother were in terrible, terrible danger. She pretended not to notice. As long as the…whatever it was…thought she was unaware, she had a better chance of turning the tables.


She could feel it there, watching them, examining them like a snake examines its prey. And something about it felt familiar. Almost like…

Sakura knew at that moment that this invisible thing was what had been haunting them, and attempting to kill the non-magus contaminating the house. And the very next second, she felt her knife ripped from her hand and screamed for Shinji to move as the kitchen utensil embedded itself in the wall just above his head.

The ‘ghost’ materialized, finally revealing itself.

It was a woman who looked to be in her late twenties to mid thirties, wearing a dominatrix’s corset beneath an armored vest and waist-cape, both gold-coated, that reached down to her ankles. Her feathery black sleeves contrasted her hands, which were delicate, but somehow gave the impression that they would have the same impact as a tiger’s paws coming down. Yes, something about this woman was decidedly cat-like, yet her eyes had something almost reptilian about them. Her cape, offset by silvery blue hair, was black on the outside, and maroon inside, with a high collar that almost screamed ‘Look at me! I’m a vampire!’

That is, until she shot them a savage grin, and then it was her fangs that screamed ‘Look at me! I’m a vampire!’

Their mad dash to the door was punctuated by large red icicles embedding themselves in the walls and the door, one of them breaking the locking mechanism. Shinji, kneeling on the floor to grab his shoes nearly lost his lunch from sheer fright. Except the door was already unlocked. Apparently he’d neglected to lock the door when he came home the previous evening, and his laziness had just saved his life. Sakura threw the door open and the two of them ran for three blocks, turning a corner at every opportunity before even putting their shoes on.

“Was that a frigging Servant?” he spat.

“I-I think so,” Sakura panted.

Shinji twitched. He sat down on the sidewalk and backed up against a wall.

“How the fuck am I supposed to— I can’t— What the fuck kind of bullshit is this?!” he howled. Sakura had to admit that listening to him yell was a bit less scary when she was standing over him.

“I’m dead. Done for. This is the motherfucking end!” he said, muttering incoherently for the better part of five minutes.

And that was when Sakura said the most exciting thing he’d heard since high school ended four years prior:

“I think that I know where Shirou keeps his spare key.”

* * * * *

Zouken wasn’t suffering Shinji’s presence anymore. He’d had enough of that worthless little creature. It was bad enough that it was adopting a lifestyle that was decidedly anti-magus, but he wasn’t even actively tormenting Sakura anymore. He conceded that this was likely the natural result of the orders he’d given Assassin, however. In a way, it made the game more interesting, but on the other hand, it infuriated him when his pawns didn’t behave as they were directed.

The boy should have been dead more than a hundred times over by now. He was surprised that Sakura was actually protecting him, but no matter, it just meant he had another way to break her when the time came. Her little façade, the kind, loving creature she pretended to be, would be her undoing. He summoned his Assassin to his side.

He saw what was coming. It would be a Holy Grail War unlike any other he had witnessed. Already his familiars had noticed one powerful and unfamiliar magus lurking about the city, but more importantly, two months ago, he felt the Fuyuki Grail go from almost empty to overflowing with mana to such an extent that it could prove to be dangerous if left unchecked.

Unfortunately, Sakura’s body seemed to have been developing a suspicious ‘immunity’ to his crest worms, expelling more and more on a monthly basis. Complicating things even further, the last few times that Sakura had been in the worm pit, which was becoming increasingly difficult for him as of late, he’d discovered that the Black Grail seemed to be losing its functionality. In fact, if the trend continued, he doubted that it could even hold a single Servant anymore within so much as a year. He could not determine why that would be. Unless…

Could that medication she started taking after the Emiya boy left, the pills intended to help with her anxiety, be having a negative effect on his crest worms? Why? How was that even possible? Anxiety pills were meant to affect the brain, not the body, and furthermore, they were supernatural creatures! They could not possibly be poisoned by human medicines! This could be greatly problematic. If his calculations were correct, of course, his Grail would be vastly inferior to what was going to manifest anyway. Such thoughts failed to put his mind at ease. He didn’t need her to be a Grail after all, just a vessel. So much time and effort, wasted!

Summoning Assassin had been a carefully arranged preemptive strike against his rebellious ‘grandchildren,’ who would no doubt attempt to stand against him in the foreseeable future. But Assassin should have been able to acquire Sakura and end the irrelevant one. It very much irked him that Sakura was not in custody, and the boy was still alive. Something was very… off about this Servant, and if this trend continued, he’d have to… discipline her.

An ugly thought suddenly came to mind: Was his strategy really planned so carefully? He scowled. Was his soul so rotten that his mind was deteriorating as well?

No. That was nonsense. He was above such a pathetic, mundane death. He would never die. He was Zouken Makiri. He had conquered death many times already. The thought that he might actually perish was the notion of an imbecile!

“Find them,” he growled, “but do not strike until I give the order. You may show yourself to them, but never speak.”

“I gladly obey, Master,” she astralized and set off to find her Master’s errant grandchildren.

He turned back to his thoughts. Worse yet, Sakura was writing letters to someone. He had no way of knowing who it was. He was glad to have heard that the Tohsaka heir was rejected, but was she really? Who else would waste their time communicating with a broken doll like her? Unless…

The scion of Emiya, perhaps? He had never met the adopted son of the Mage Killer, not in person, but he had listened to a great deal of his interactions with his puppet, and he knew the boy had a bleeding heart. He would be easy to manipulate.

But that still left the problem of not knowing what Sakura was saying to her so-called friend. Had she been using a telephone, or even talking to herself as she had done so often while writing papers for school, he would at least have one side of the conversation, and could determine the other side from that, but she did no such thing anymore. For now, he would need to assume that the Emiya boy or if he wasn’t lucky, the Tohsaka heir, would eventually know everything.

…

Hold a moment.

Didn’t he already know precisely whom she was writing to?

He was certain he had heard a conversation months earlier. Blast! He couldn’t recall what was said. This was irritating beyond measure. It shouldn’t even have been happening!

Unable to do anything about it in the moment however, he returned to his previous line of thought.

Would the Emiya boy still feel for her if he knew what she really was? Would he still care if he were aware that she was a worm-ridden creature with a soul rotted from the inside out? No. Everyone had their limit. Even that boy. Of that he was certain.

As for the girl, the despair she would know when she learned the condition of Sakura’s heart would be most satisfying, but after that, it was still possible that he would find himself at a disadvantage.

And that simply wouldn’t do at all.

But there was still one other thing that would make Sakura supremely useful.

Though the crest worms in her body seemed to be dying en mass, there were still more than enough to make her a time bomb, if not thoroughly prevent her from using magecraft. As long as she was a walking hive of crest worms, he could make her devour the mana of anyone around her. He wasn’t so naïve as to expect he could best Tohsaka’s daughter. To her credit, she was a genius, but as long as she was connected to the Emiya boy, Sakura would follow the two of them like a duckling. If they participated in the coming War, then he could still drain the both of them to withered husks simply by agitating her crest worms…

Yes. This was acceptable.

* * * * *

Shinji, on his part, was shocked to discover that Sakura had gone back to their house the following morning and packed up a suitcase of essentials for the both of them. The heroic spirit clearly was only interested in killing Shinji, or at the very least, hadn’t been instructed to kill anyone else.

While on her errand, her initial interaction with the Servant was limited to when she passed her, fully visible, in the front hallway. The woman grinned at her in a way comparable to the way one looks at a tray of expensive hors-d’oeuvres. She didn’t try to talk to the creature. Vampires were bad; that was a rule! No matter what the Americans were saying.

She really hoped she didn’t have a crest worm vomiting incident while she was here. She was having them almost once a month now like a damn second menstrual cycle.

She was on her way out and about to go back downstairs when she noticed the door to the worm pit was open. Wide open.

It was never just left open. This could only mean that Grandfather wanted her to hear or see something. Suffice to say, the smart thing to do, she knew, was to keep walking and ignore him. But her curiosity got the better of her. Leaving her suitcase at the front door, she hurried back upstairs and sallied up to the doorway.

“█████████████████...that she is necessary as a vessel. I would like an explanation as to why you did not use your Noble Phantasm to immobilize them. I was quite clear when I gave the instruction that the boy was to die.”

“Because, Master, you had previously instructed that I was to frighten them as well. I was to teach them to fear your domain, show them who is truly in control, no matter how far they run, and cause them to question their sanity, if at all possible. In short, to toy with them.”

“And how does that answer my question?”

“For the simple reason that the game has not yet come to an end,” she answered, the sneer in her voice just as much as it must have been on her face. “I’m sure you understand this sentiment, Master.”

“Yes, yes, I understand it perfectly. And I also believe that should satisfy our curious little eavesdropper presently. And you may take her now.”

Sakura practically suffered a panic induced arrhythmia, but she forced herself to move. In an impossible feat of speed brought on by terror, Sakura was at the front door in three seconds, outside in five, and around the corner in fifteen.

She was astonished that she even managed to escape with no more than a few…

She was sure the Servant had struck her. Her whole body stung from where the Servant’s nails had raked along her back, but pain was nothing new to her. She didn’t know why that one cut was making her whole body seize up the way it was, but she powered her way through it, and the pain was lessening the further away she got.

She probably looked strange enough, with a mark on her back as though she’d had a near miss with a lion, but she considered herself lucky that the worst she got out of the encounter was a scratch. She probably should have abandoned the suitcase, but that would have rendered the whole ordeal pointless.

She didn’t stop until she was halfway across the city, nearly collapsing on the sidewalk as she did so.

Shinji actually wasn’t aware that she had gone anywhere until she made an unusual request from the front hall.

“Shinji, could you take a look at my back for a second?”

He was confused, but figured it wouldn’t take him very long to take care of this. He found her standing in front of the front door with her shirt off, facing away from him.

He looked at her back. Everything seemed fine.

“Sorry, what exactly am I supposed to be looking for?”

“Um… Claw marks? I think?”

“What? From a cat?”

“Maybe from a lion?”

A supremely irritated grimace worked its way onto Shinji’s face.

“There’s nothing on your back, and you’re certifiably insane.”

“Huh? But I… she… I got hit. I’m sure I got hit.”

That was when Shinji noticed the suitcase.

“Sakura, where did you go?” he snarled.

“Back home. I went to get some of our stuff. Just some essentials. And some of your things. You left your—”

“You brainless human dumpster fire!”

“Eep! Why are you yelling?” she whimpered, retreating a few steps.

“For nearly getting yourself killed, that’s what!”

Sakura didn’t answer and just examined the back of her shirt, which was, unsurprisingly, completely undamaged.

“I don’t get it. She definitely hit me, I’m sure of it.”

“You really are insane,” Shinji grumbled. He went back to the living room and continued writing down code that he really only hoped would work without being able to test it. Sakura followed him inside once she had put her shirt back on, pulling the suitcase behind her. She stopped next to the table and unzipped the front pocket, removing his laptop and placing it beside him.

“Oh.” He looked away. After a few awkward moments of silence, he managed to say, “Thank you.”

She had already left the room though.

* * * * *

Back at the Matou residence, Sakura’s attacker still stood in the doorway, pondering why her noble phantasm had failed to prevent the girl’s escape.

“How curious,” she mused, frowning. She would pass it off as a fluke. If it happened a second time, then she would report it to her Master. Her work done for the moment, she vanished into spirit form.

But she had already stood there for an hour; just staring off in the direction her Master’s granddaughter had gone in perplexity.

The worms gnashed their teeth. The Makiri had meant what he said: He most certainly did understand perfectly. He understood that his Servant was more interested in playing her little games than carrying out her orders, and couldn’t even tell she was behaving inappropriately.

He had chosen this particular assassin for her viciousness. She was among the most hideously murderous women in European history. He hadn’t expected her to have little-to-no self-awareness.

“Pathetic.”

* * * * *

Sakura was very uncomfortable starting out at the Emiya house. Technically, they were breaking and entering. It was a crime.

She probably should have mentioned where they had taken up residence in one of her letters.

And that vampire Servant. That was probably something important too.


Dear Sakura,

I’m afraid that there’s no ‘good’ place to start so to speak. Magecraft is passed down through families, and the families are expected to teach their children.

I don’t understand. Are you saying that you never were taught any magecraft? None at all? Wasn’t that the entire reason that father did what he did?! This is going to make him turn in his grave. Of course, if this is in fact the case, I guess it probably serves him right for being… well… incredibly careless.

If I were to make a suggestion, I would need to know more about your family’s form of magecraft first.

Luvia is still insisting on coming on to Shirou even with me around. I’m pretty sure that she’s just doing this to piss me off now. I apologize for having to cut this letter short, but I have to go plot a homicide.

Your sister,

Rin


Sakura was tickled a bit by her sister’s hyperbole—at least, she hoped it was hyperbole—but she had other things on her mind by the time this letter came.


Dear Rin,

I’m pretty sure that the Matous specialize in absorption and commanding familiars. I think.

I think grandfather plans on using me for something too, he sounds like he wants me close by. He said something about me being necessary as a vessel. What does that mean?

Your sister,

Sakura


This one must have caught Rin’s attention because the next letter arrived in just four days.


Dear Sakura,

Necessary as a vessel?! Sakura, I don’t mean to alarm you, but that could mean a number of different things, none of them good. Best case scenario, it means he’s planning to use you as a container for magical energy, but doing that will destroy your psyche, leaving you a hollow shell. A worse scenario would be that he’s insinuating that he’s going to take over your body.

That said, the moment he lays a single finger on you is the moment that gruesome death becomes unavoidable for him! I will personally vaporize him if he even tries anything!

Now itching to kill the bastard,

Rin


Sakura actually giggled at that signage.

She also remembered that she had to refill her prescription, so she headed out after she finished reading it.

* * * * *

Sakura’s pharmacist watched her warily as the girl left the drugstore. This girl was almost certainly a participant. Her insufferably anonymous informant had said so, and she was the Makiri’s granddaughter. It made sense. The girl might have been adopted, but it was obvious why that had been the case. She could sense a great deal of magical potential in her even if it was suppressed. And her informant hadn’t betrayed her yet, so she wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, just because it was pointing a gun at her… no, that didn’t work, she was just ruining the aphorism.

The real question was this though: Why was the spiked medication she was giving that girl making her stronger? Or at least appear so.

It really didn’t make sense. The etchings she had placed on those tablets were specifically designed to damage magic crests. It wasn’t like she was going to get sick and die from it, she had been careful to make these things non-lethal, but she seemed to grow increasingly chipper with every visit. She really should at least have been a little off balance.

It would have been so much easier to just kill her. She honestly couldn’t fathom why she hadn’t just opened with that. She wouldn’t have to go through all this trouble.

The redhead leaned back in her chair. She was going soft, and she knew it. But she couldn’t deny something anymore. She was getting old, even if her body didn’t reflect it. And she was so, so tired of being in constant conflict with one person or another. So she had promised herself that this would be it. The last one. She was going to win this, and make sure she wouldn’t have to bother with anyone else ever again. There were a very select few who she’d still drop in on. Clandestinely of course. Life was boring if she didn’t have someone to mess with.

But there was one person that she just couldn’t be bothered with anymore. She was so, so tired of fighting her… she still couldn’t stand her but… oh why bother… why was she even trying to justify it to herself? She was even contradicting herself.

She got up and headed back to her hotel room, releasing the other employees from the mass hypnosis she’d inflicted on them as she walked out the back door.

She still had no idea how this worked though. She’d done her homework. This Grail still had fifty-four years left before it should have been able to function again. The fact that she could feel its power without even trying to focus on it was proof enough that suspicious forces were at work. She probably shouldn’t be trusting anonymous letters either, especially considering that they were almost certainly from a mage, the only other possibility being a member of the Holy Church and they had their own share of problems, but if a Holy Grail War was going to take place here, then this was the fasted way to accomplish her goal.

And to be fair, it was virtually zero risk for a massive reward.

* * * * *

And so the two Matou siblings had lived at the Emiya residence for just over a year.

They began receiving visits from Ms. Fujimura as well now that someone was cooking in the Emiya house again. She didn’t have any idea how Taiga had found out, but on the other hand, she was the person getting all of Sakura’s mail, so it’s not like they had any right to complain.

Nevertheless, it was absolutely shocking that she had started coming over every morning now. Shinji was positively appalled.

And then Sakura told him that this was normal, and he had to resist the urge to slam his head into the table.

* * * * *

The first disappearance was reported the same afternoon as the next letter’s arrival. Sakura hadn’t thought much of it, but then another person vanished two weeks later, and only three days after that, the headless body of a third person was found in a refrigerated storage locker.

The stress wasn’t too much for her to handle, Shinji knew that, but he could also see that Sakura seemed concerned about the city. ‘Seemed’ being the keyword. He had long since come to the conclusion that trying to understand his sister was like trying to solve a puzzle missing half the pieces.

She had never exactly been happy about having the role of a guardian thrust upon her, but she had to do something. Whatever was going on in her mind, she decided she would need to disclose the events unfolding in and around her life to Tohsaka. So she did the only thing that she knew could help:

She sent another letter.


Dear Rin,


I’m very sorry to bother you, as I’m sure your work at the Clock Tower is very important. I only wanted to let you know that strange things are happening in Fuyuki. There have been a string of disappearances over the past several days, and one person was actually found beheaded.

By the time you receive this, the killer will have been at large for several days already. I don’t actually consider this to be a dangerous situation, but I did feel you deserved to know. I know that it’s supposed to take sixty years before the Grail can manifest again, but I just have a nagging feeling that these incidents have something to do with the Holy Grail. More than a feeling actually.

Also I think that my grandfather may have summoned a Servant.
She’s some sort of vampire, and it looks like she was the ghost that was trying to kill Shinji for so long. I don’t think she’s behind the murders though. I feel like she would be the type to be showier, if her creepy fashion sense is anything to go by. Anyway, these disappearances remind me too much of what happened during the last War. Everything’s fine for now though, so don’t worry about anything.

Please give Senpai my best.

Your loving sister,


Sakura


“Okay, there are so many problems with this letter that it’s making me nauseous,” Shinji groaned, leering over her shoulder. “So, let me get this straight. People are disappearing, grandfather somehow managed to pull a Servant out of his ass, said Servant is trying to kidnap you, and kill me and you haven’t even made the first part clear, so therefore we don’t need help?”

Sakura turned around, looking at him uncertainly.

“I—”

“What the crap is wrong with you?! I’ll be honest, on the one hand, I’d sooner get punched in the head than accept Rin Tohsaka’s charity, but on the other hand, I don’t want to fucking die! Are you really this stupid? Is half of your brain just missing?”

“Shinji, I didn’t—”

He let himself flop over onto the table. “Oh, forget it… I don’t give a crap, just send it, she’ll work it out for herself. Also, what the hell is with this, ‘your loving sister’ bullshit? It’s kind of ridiculous.”

Sakura sighed. She had been hoping to avoid putting herself on the spot like this. She did want to see Shirou, but at the same time, exchanging letters with Rin was different than actually seeing her in person.

It couldn’t be helped. She added a postscript.

P.S. Actually, we may need just a little bit of help. Please come quick.

She also scratched out the word ‘loving.’

So, that was that. And now Emiya was back and asking them to return his house. Fat chance. He wasn’t going back to the Matou mansion.

Tohsaka’s death threats and promises of torture and mutilation weren’t having much of an impact on him either. Fear was a strong counter even to the best motivators.

“Are you even listening to me?” the woman in question leered down at him.

“Yes. You’re picking up a few things at your house,” he grumbled his disinterest, “and if you find that I’ve touched any of the crap you’ve left here, you’ll turn my head into a topographical map of Scotland, that the gist of it?”

“Well, as long as you heard my warning,” she said, turning away with a smirk.

This was not going to work out well for him. Shinji could tell.

* * * * *

Sakura was in one of the guest rooms, looking through the various belongings she brought back from her house. There wasn’t very much to go through. Most of what they had now was either Shirou’s property, or new. Or Shinji’s. He had a bunch of things in the room he was staying in. Somehow an envelope found its way into her hand. It was unopened, and looked a little more manhandled than some of the others. A quick look at the date confirmed her suspicion.

It was the first. She still hadn’t opened it. There were several reasons for this, none of them important anymore now that Rin was here. Which just meant that she had no excuses anymore.

She opened the letter.


Dear Sakura,

Well, I accidentally let it slip that we were sisters the other day, so naturally Shirou won’t stop badgering me about calling you. I’m not going to do that, and it’s not like I owe you any explanations for why that is, but here we are.

(Sakura smiled.

“Thank you, Senpai.”)

I’ll apologize for one thing, and one thing only. I’m sorry I didn’t make more of an effort to talk to you before I left. But really, what was I supposed to do? Go over to another magus’ house and say ‘Hi, Sakura it’s me, Rin, your estranged sister who hasn’t bothered to talk to you in fifteen years, just thought I’d drop by to say hello.’

(A memory from more than a year earlier jolted to the surface of her mind, and Sakura went into such a fit of giggling that she had to catch herself on the side of her bed to avoid falling over. As a rule, her brother never understood other people, but he hit the nail on the head just because he was being a sarcastic prick. He had definitely said… well, she didn’t remember perfectly, but what he said was almost the same. She was sure of it. What were the chances?

Wait… She had been counting the years too? Why would she be counting the years? She wasn’t being subjected to continuous torture, so what reason could she possibly…?

“So, you aren’t as prickly as you want everyone to think you are, huh, big sister?” she smirked, the corners of her mouth twitching with the faintest hint of mischief. She’d file this information away for later. She turned back to the letter.)

If we’re going to do this, I may as well try to get to know you better. Didn’t really pick up on much from our godawful smalltalk. So, how have you been, (Three entire lines had been scratched out here to the point of complete illegibility) since everything happened?

I mean, I’m sure you know what father was aiming for when he gave you to that decrepit old creature by now, but that doesn’t mean it was right.

They weren’t completely terrible to you, were they? You’d have told me if something was wrong, right?

The truth is that I have actually missed you. It would have been nice to not always be alone in that big empty house. I’m also sure you probably aren’t too thrilled that I’m writing you now instead of just talking to you when I had the chance. I told Shirou this was a stupid idea. (Written in the margin here was No surprise. Most of his ideas are stupid. He occasionally (very occasionally) seems like a clever boy, but more often than not he says and does the dumbest things. It’s almost enough to make me pull my hair out sometimes.) But he’s also threatening to stop cooking breakfast for me for a week if I don’t send this, which is mostly fine, I’m a good cook myself, but still…

Look, write back if you want. Or don’t. It really doesn’t matter to me, (“Suuuuure it doesn’t, big sister. You can tell yourself that if it helps you sleep at night.”) but I’ll probably be writing again anyways, so you don’t have to do anything, I guess.

Your sister,

Rin


The whole thing was a bit rough around the edges, but what wasn’t when it came to Rin?

She knew it wasn’t particularly relevant anymore considering the progress they had made over the past few years of written correspondence, but she left it open on her bedside table.

She really wanted things to change. But if that was the case, she had to take the stage. If people looked at her long enough, they would hate what they saw. She knew that. But what if letting people see the worst of herself was the only way to fix things?

Without any plan, she would only end up doing something reckless. But she couldn’t bear to make a choice now.

She got off her bed and steadied herself, slid the door to her room open. She put on the mask. That perfect, disarming smile that said, ‘everything is fine.’

And suddenly she knew how to find her answers. The possibilities still frightened her. After all, nothing was fine. Nothing would ever be okay as long as she lived. Not as long as Zouken Matou was still wriggling around Fuyuki. She couldn’t ever hope to defy her grandfather. But if this truly was a Holy Grail War, then her sister and her Senpai would both be fighting. And if they did, Grandfather would destroy them. She could take their place… but she wasn’t ready to die, and she still had a few options available to her. All that remained was to pick one.

And she certainly had an idea of where to start.


Author’s Note: Thank you for reading this absurdly long fanfiction which probably left you thinking, 'what, if anything happened during all of that?'
I’ll say one thing and one thing only: Sakura’s pharmacist is exactly who you think she is.

I really don’t know if I’ll actually write the HGW story any time soon but there is a follow-up to this taking place in London that introduces several other participants.

Whatever the case, I am going to be taking a break from Beast’s Lair for a while. I still have a lot to contribute to the fandom, and due to various RL circumstances, I think I’ve gotten too volatile to be here at the present time, so this is my going away/apology gift, I guess you could call it.

Goodbye for now.

[shounen jump]

Does this have anything to do with the Letters series i read about on the Tvtropes FFRecs involving Sakura writing letters to people?

[You]

Does this have anything to do with the Letters series i read about on the Tvtropes FFRecs involving Sakura writing letters to people?

That was by too biased
esteemed moderator who puns things and then says you love it
inb4 you love it

[Draconic]

Author's Note: Okay. Despite the disheartening lack of feedback on the previous piece, I am risking posting the incredibly long second part of this story. Here's hoping that you didn't actually hate the previous one and I'm worried over nothing.

Letters from Tohsaka: London

It was a few minutes past seven o'clock when they arrived at Fuyuki airport, and Rin had never thought she would ever be so anxious to be back there.

Though her house was closer, they had already decided to set up shop at the Emiya residence, and had to get a few things ready.

Walking through the front doors, Shirou and Rin were greeted by the sound of an argument.

“Don't give me anymore bullshit! You're the one he trained! You're the one who got all the attention! You're not fooling anyone saying you can't do magecraft!”

“It's not that I can't, it just doesn't work! I can cast a spell, but it just…fizzles…”

“How the hell are you so sure about that?! You were a Tohsaka! You should be capable of anything!"

"You just want revenge on that woman for embarrassing you!”

"Ding ding ding! Give the girl a prize," Shinji growled. "How can you even be sure that you can't if you aren't even going to try?"

"I told you, it hurts when I try to use magecraft."

"Well try anyway!" Shinji demanded, "I believe in you!"

The sarcasm in his voice was downplayed by his anger, almost as though Shinji actually had the vaguest sliver of confidence in Sakura's powers, should she actually have any. Of course, that was no surprise: According to Sakura, she'd been his lifeline for a rather long time now. The sarcasm was still there though.

"No! I'm not doing it!"

"Yes, you are! Don't make me do this the hard way…"

“You can’t force me to do anything anymore, Shinji! I’m not your servant!”

“The hell you aren’t! You’re the most eager-to-please person I’ve ever met in my life aside from Emiya. What else did you pick up from him, huh? You suddenly want to be a hero too? Tall order for someone who’s already dead inside!”

“That’s not fair!”

Already uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going, Rin decided it was time to interrupt, walking into the kitchen, Shirou in tow.

“This argument is as fascinating as it is disturbing, but would either of you care to explain what’s going on?” she asked.

Shinji and Sakura both nearly jumped out of their skins.

“Tohsaka?!” Shinji sputtered, “Wait, Emiya?! What are you doing here?!”

“Uh, this is my house. It belongs to me. I live here,” Shiro said, scratching the back of his neck. “What are you two doing here?”

“Full disclosure!” Sakura stammered, maybe a bit too loud, “We’re hiding.”

“What are you doing, you idiot! You don’t tell people that!”

“Well, it is Senpai’s house. And we…kind of forgot to mention we were using it as a refuge.”

Shinji visibly withered, practically shrinking in on himself. "I hate it when you're right," he grumbled.

“Er, okay, that opens up an entirely new book of questions,” Rin said.

The door opened and Taiga Fujimura casually strolled into the house, sliding into the kitchen, the grin on her face wide as ever.

"Hey hey, Sakura! You getting breakfast ready yet?"

“Now what?!” Rin sputtered.

Taiga looked toward the sound of the familiar voice, and momentarily ignored Tohsaka in favor of the boy standing next to her.

“I didn’t know you were coming home, Shirou!”

“Why are you still even coming here, Fuji-nee?!”

“Sakura’s been feeding her… like an idiot,” Shinji grumbled, “Can’t you see she’s freeloading off of your charity?”

“But we’re freeloading off of Senpai…”

“He's not your senpai anymore!” yowled Shinji, his voice rising to a hysterical high pitch as his frustration continued mounting.

“While you’re here, Shirou, do you think you and Sakura could make breakfast? I’m starving!”

“I haven’t even been home for five minutes!” Shirou complained.

Secretly, Rin was actually very proud of him for at least showing some disdain for being ordered around first thing. He still decided to start bustling around the kitchen like he was Taiga's househusband though, so the only thing expressed in her face was disdain.

"So how long do you think you'll be staying?" asked his former homeroom teacher, taking a seat in front of the table.

"Dunno," Shirou answered honestly.

"Well then, perfect! Now I get to eat like a queen for at least…" she paused. "Well, a couple days, I'm sure."

"That…" Shirou trailed off in the middle of a groan. '…sounds like a really bad idea.' He finished in his head. What could he even say? She wasn't the last person he wanted to get involved, but she was close enough. So he just stayed silent and prayed that she'd at least show up in a timely manner.

It was a scene both familiar and unusual. And busier than any of them—bar Taiga—needed. But this was how they'd arrived back in Fuyuki. They'd just have to manage.











---Roughly Three Years Earlier…---







“I didn’t know that Sakura was your sister,” said Shirou as he swallowed another forkful of fish.

That was the moment Rin knew she shouldn’t have tried to talk to her boyfriend about old insecurities.

“Well, I…” she stammered, “She isn’t anymore. She was given away to the Matous to become the family heir.”

Shirou was sure that Shinji had told him that Sakura had no idea about the Holy Grail War, but if she was the heir, wouldn’t that mean that…

The thought died before it could reach his tongue.

“She’s a mage?” he asked smartly.

“I would expect so. And, yes, I would expect she knew what was going on that week.”

Shirou closed his eyes. So that was why she was so worried by Saber all that time ago. Across the table from him, his significant other popped a pair of french fries into her mouth. He had no idea why Rin had taken a newspaper and stuffed the fish and chips into it though, and frankly, he had been appalled at how frivolously she just made a mess of her meal. What if ink came off on them? Not that this was the first time she’d done it. Well, actually he did recognize it as being a cultural thing, but it wasn’t even observed anymore. And there was probably a very good reason for that.

“Anyway, it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“You’re the one who brought it up, not me. You can’t say that you don’t still care about her,” he said, then stammered, realizing he was in dangerous territory. Actually, it was far too late to do anything about it. Better to just go all in. “I-I just mean to say that it looks that way to me. You wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise.”

The gears in Rin’s head were spinning at about a thousand RPM trying to think of something to fudge her way out of this. She wasn’t having much luck. There was only one thing that this could lead to, and she was not at all ready for it. Reconciling with her sister would be something she was forced to do only when the two of them inevitably found themselves in a life or death scenario against a threat of apocalyptic proportions. That way the awkwardness could be bypassed by terrified desperation, and she wouldn’t have to deal with it.

“You should really call her or something.”

…Motherfudger…

She gave Shirou the evil eye.

“Well, Emiya, I’m afraid that I simply don’t want to. You can’t exactly force me to do anything. You’re just not that kind of person.”

Shirou fixed her with a strange look.

“You’re right,” he said with the faintest hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I can’t force you to do anything.” The grin got wider. “But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to drop this. I can’t make you do anything, Tohsaka,” he dipped a piece of his fish in ketchup and then bit half of it off his fork, then pointed at her with the loaded kitchen implement, “but I can still prod you until you give in to reason.”

Rin sneered at her boyfriend.

“Really, now?” she chuckled, “Good luck then. You’ll most certainly need it.”

* * * * *

“Guuuuuuhhhh! What’ll it take for you to just shut up already?!” Rin whined as she stormed through the front entrance. How had she let this happen? Oh, right: Hubris.

“I told you that I wouldn’t drop this, and I’m not going to. Sakura was like a little sister to me too, you know. I want what’s best for her. Even so, this is for both of your sakes. Just give her a call.”

“Oh, be quiet. You don’t know anything. I don’t need anything from Sakura, so live and let live!”

“How about live better because you’re not constantly worrying about her?”

“Oh, no. You’re not getting me that easily.”

She stepped through a door just as a girl in a black hoodie walked past her in the hallway, her face expressionless.

Shirou and Rin both did a double take. That girl looked… unsettlingly familiar. But now with nothing but the back of her hood to look at, there was nothing to see. They couldn’t place the girl’s face to a name without a better look. And the two of them both had classes to get to. Naturally, they never had classes together, except for the ones in which she was his private instructor. And those often turned into heavy petting sessions. Actually, just as often as not, she just played the part of his magic instructor/fitness coach. It seemed that El-Melloi II might have been onto something with his theory that one can improve their own performance through training the body and mind. While Shirou’s magic circuit count remained the same, his mana reserves had nevertheless increased significantly, as had his talent in regards to using that mana. While that still wasn’t saying much for his actual capacity as a mage, everything she’d learned about magecraft insisted that such a thing was so far beyond the realm of possibility that it was dangerous to even suggest otherwise. But on the other hand she could see why this lie would be perpetuated: After all, if a first generation mage could grow to become as powerful as a fifth generation mage from a lazy, third rate family with decaying circuits, then what would the pedantic and floating elite be able to discriminate against?

To be fair, there were plenty of powerful mages from prestigious families with talent to spare in their arts, but it was difficult to say when everyone kept their abilities secret.

Although…

It seemed Shirou had made a few friends among the new families, who actually did share their abilities with one another. They still kept it between themselves, but it was different.

As a rule, Rin was competitive. As a rule, she was curious. She wanted to know what these people could do if it could give her some leverage against them if they were ever to try something. So she needed to meet with these friends Shirou had.

It had taken a lot of prodding and a promise to never speak a word to anyone about what she saw inside their little society.

But most importantly…

“I’ve sworn I wouldn’t talk to a soul about it, what more do you want?!” Tohsaka demanded, tugging at her hair.

Shirou smirked.

“I’m pretty sure you know already.”

So it was do that, or suffer a disadvantage of knowing that there actually were trustworthy people in the Clock Tower but not knowing who they were.

“This is blackmail.”

“No it’s not. And it’s not even a big deal either. You’ve made a mountain out of an anthill.”

“The expression goes ‘making mountains out of molehills,’ Emiya,” she sighed.

“Yeah, but what I want you to do shouldn’t bother you at all. A molehill is tiny, but an anthill is completely inconsequential.”

“GAH! Fine!” she howled, “I’ll write her a stupid letter, are you happy now?!”

Shirou let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, and nodded.

“Very,” he said, earnest as ever, “I mean it, I really do want you and Sakura to have a good relationship.”

Rin could only look down at the floor and and sigh helplessly.

“How can you not see that’s impossible?” she muttered.

Shirou didn’t hear her.

* * * * *

The meeting was apparently held in a vacant room in an apartment building a few blocks away from Luvia’s. Inside she was surprised to find upwards of fifteen people already there, sitting on cheap plastic chairs, set up in a large semicircle.

She immediately felt a change in atmosphere as soon as she walked inside. And not just because of the bounded field soundproofing the room.

People began whispering the moment they saw her. Which was nothing new for her, but still, she could feel their animosity like a thick shroud on top of her.

“Who let her inside?”

“Isn’t she that smug elitist chick?”

“Yeah. I think her name is Toh-something. I think she’s from Japan.

“It’s Tohsaka. She’s supposed to be one of the most dangerous people in the Clock Tower.”

“Backwater eccentric.”

“What do you think she wants from us?”

“Anyone care to speak up?” she drawled. “I can still hear you; the whispering only makes it annoying to listen.”

That shut the other mages up with perfect efficiency. Before she could say anything else, Shirou put a hand on her shoulder and spoke up.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s not going to say a word to anybody. She’s actually better at keeping secrets than anyone else I know.”

“Keeping your abilities secret is something of a special case,” she said with an almost affectionate grin.

“It doesn’t matter. Besides, they already know about my projection,” he said, hoping nobody got suspicious. “Look, she was just interested in learning what a few other people’s forms of magecraft were.”

“Erm… can I go?” asked one of the girls, a woman about Rin’s age, maybe a little older, “I, uhh…”

“Look, if you’re intimidated by me, don’t be. One of you said I’m dangerous? That’s true. I’m an exceptionally talented mage—I'm not bragging, it's just a fact—and attempting to kill me results in severe injury or death, but unlike many of our peers and colleagues, I’m not so insecure about my standing in society that I have people killed left and right.”

Everyone stared at her, expecting her to continue. She rolled her eyes.

“I’m saying that unless you try to kill me, I’m harmless. I don’t even participate in Clock Tower politics unless absolutely necessary, so your status is safe too."

Still no response.

“What do you want from me? A show of goodwill or something? Fine: I can store and transfer mana in various objects and then use it as I see fit. That’s the simple explanation at least. I primarily use jewels. I’m also of the Average One designation.”

She took three gems out of her pocket, and tossed them into the air in front of her. She had them spin around in a circle in front of her and then shot them across the room where they exploded against the wall in various different results. One caused a coating of ice to spread across the wall. Another produced a small light show, and so on.

There were a few more whispers.

“What? You want more? Tough luck,” she snapped, “you aren’t getting anything else outta me.”

To her surprise, someone actually stood up and offered her his hand. Another Japanese boy.

“Nice to meet you, Tohsaka,” the boy said, “This is the first time we’ve spoken, right?”

“I think so, but I think I’ve seen you around. Kishinami, right?”

“Yeah.”

He was both incredibly awkward and as a member of this sort of group, he was likely a bit too soft to survive for very long in the Clock Tower without a few friends looking out for him. Judging by the way he carried himself and the condition of his clothes, she also figured that he lived just off of campus with a parent, probably his mother.

Tohsaka determined all that in a matter of moments, and was able to respond smoothly by stepping away and saying, “Familiarity aside, isn’t it proper manners to introduce oneself before laying hands on a person?”

“Just a handshake…” the boy muttered. “Whatever. Anyway, I’m Hakuno Kishinami. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Tohsaka.”

Rin stepped forward again, and made as though to shake the boy’s hand, then grabbed his shirtsleeve, and pulled it up, examining his forearm. Nothing there. No spell at the ready. No traps of any kind. She looked at Shirou to see him shaking his head in embarrassment for her. She sighed, trying to salvage as much dignity as she could.

“I’m going to guess that your impoliteness is just par for the course with you and move past this. I’m sure that if Emiya brought you in, you can’t be all bad.” He turned to face looked the rest of the group.

“I suppose that while I’ve still got the spotlight, I may as well show off a bit. I created a new mystic code while I was falling asleep last night,” he blinked, “Oh, right, you don’t know about what I do,” he turned to look at Rin for another moment. “I’m good at constructing mystic codes. I’m just barely capable of using any magecraft on its own, but I can make things that have their own Mysteries and powers… which could make me eligible for a sealing designation, except I’m rarely able to choose what I come up with next.”

He placed a block of wood on an empty chair.

Rin couldn’t deny that he’d piqued her interest.

“So you're giving us a demonstration?” she asked.

“That’s what I just said. Now,

“Basic Construct. Two layers.”

It was a four word incantation in English; Rin wasn’t expecting much, so wasn’t particularly surprised when the chunk of wood transformed into broom.

Hakuno counted out the number of patronizing looks he got and a sly smirk worked its way onto his face.

“It probably has something to do with the fact that I never clean my room at home. Fortunately, making this is really inexpensive so I was able to do it again here.”

“Congratulations, Kishinami,” a girl drawled, “you’ve created a tool that even the old fashioned mages don’t use anymore.”

“That so? I’m thinking that I may have a market. Can everyone take a very close look at the floor?”

“Are you kidding? I’m not putting my head that close to floor! I mean, pardon the topical relevance but this place can’t have been swept up in years.”

“Yeah, you're probably really right. The dust is visible even without bending over. White glove test then."

As it turned out, he actually had brought a disposable rubber glove with him. Running his finger along the floor, it came away almost black.

A round of disgusted noises filled the room.

“Well then.” He raised the broom like it was a sledgehammer, and brought it down. A few people actually leaped out of their chairs so quickly that the chairs actually followed them a few feet as they tried to distance themselves from the imminent dust cloud. Which, of course, didn’t come, as they would all soon decide should have been obvious to them.

Instead, the floor changed color.

“Huh. Oak floorboards.” Hakuno mused.

Or rather, they could see the real color that had appeared rather faded because of the dust coating, all of which had simply been removed from existence. He took a large plastic bag and shook the broom inside it, and it suddenly looked a lot heavier.

“You could eat off the floor if you wanted to now. I’m sure you wouldn’t, but you could. And it’s not just this room. This entire floor of the building now has no dust. Or hairs, or eraser shavings, or any other negligibly small objects that might end up on the floor. Incidentally, you probably don’t want to look inside this bag… it’s like sand,” he shuddered.

Hakuno looked at his creation proudly.

“So, until I can come up with a better name, I’m calling it a dustpurger. Ah…buster was taken, you know. I’d open the floor to suggestions, but I doubt anyone will care that much.”

“You’d be right!” said another student.

“Seriously, Coulter, can you just let me have this?”

The other boy rolled his eyes, shrugged and made a noncommittal noise.

“So, you create mystic codes?” Rin asked.”

“Yeah. It’s a bit like projection, but not quite. I need base materials to start with, like alchemy. I don’t really have anything else I can show off right now, and this was the only reason I came to the meeting, to be honest.”

“Yes, yes, we know, you’re a shut-in,” said a girl off to the side.

“Thank you, Charlotte,” sighed Hakuno, “you know how much I value your opinion.”

“Well, at least I do things that have served a purpose more than once.”

“Runes aren’t particularly special. Though I’ll admit that you use them to beautiful effect. But need I remind you what happens every time you try to use fire-based magecraft?”

“Just because I unfailingly blow myself up every time I so much as try to light a candle without a match means nothing. My ice is more useful anyway. And makes much nicer gifts during winter.”

Rin watched the two students argue with no shortage of disinterest. Around the room, other mages were talking to one another, but only occasionally would she see someone actually using magecraft.

“Is it always like this?” she asked. “It seems incredibly quiet.”

“What were you expecting?” Shirou asked.

“I don’t honestly know, but… I suppose I was hoping for something more interesting?” It wasn’t a question. She really just didn’t know what she was hoping to find in here.

“Well to be fair, some of them are just being cautious around high tier mages like you,” he said, dismissing her statement. “But most of the time there isn’t a lot of magecraft going on around here. Testing out ideas or showing off is only an occasional thing.”

“So, if there wasn’t anything going on, why didn’t you just tell me?”

Shirou gave her a look that said, ‘I did, but you didn’t listen.’

“Dammit, is anyone here actually going to do something?” she spouted off abruptly. She stood up and snapped her fingers repeatedly in irritation. “Be creative for a minute. Have any of you tried using your abilities together? Coordinate things? You guys are actually telling each other what you can do here, so why aren’t you applying that? I mean as long as you don’t teach each other your individual Mysteries, your abilities don’t lose any of their power, so you could be secretly reshaping the study of magecraft as we know it just by way of your lack of twitchy paranoia, and instead you’re just sitting around doing nothing!”

“Multi-gen bitch she may be, but I suddenly like her a lot,” said one of the other girls.

Rin raised her eyebrows suggestively, her trademark devil’s grin surfacing.

“Are you coming on to me?”

“Ew, no. I just met you.”

“Fine, that was in poor taste. But my point still stands. I’m coming back here again, and you’d all better believe that you’re going be getting more industrious next meeting.” Seeing that she had gotten her audience’s attention, she took their silence as a cue to continue.

“You could probably convince one of the instructors to give you extra credit for doing something like this too, you know. El-Melloi seems like a reasonable guy. And based on some of his work that I’ve read, he’d love seeing people breaking the rules set by the pedigree maniacs. He could set up a fake extracurricular studies program in the Faculty of Modern Magecraft.”

There was some murmuring among the crowd. It wasn’t unanimous, but several people sounded like they thought the idea had merit. Shirou looked at Rin and gave her a lopsided half-grin.

“What’s with that look?”

“Nothing. It’s just that…well, you’ve been here for less than half-an-hour, and you’ve already taken over the group.”

Hakuno, who had stopped arguing with his older classmate and was halfway out the door stopped short, one leg suspended in mid-step.

“Wait, Emiya, are you saying you were expecting her to do something like this?”

Shirou shook his head.

“Not really. She’s just got a commanding presence. And she tends to be good at just about anything she puts her mind to.” He grinned, “Except twenty-first century tech. She’s helpless in that regard.”

“Yep,” Rin smiled, “and if he says another word about that, I may just be forced to increase gravity’s pull on him by nine times.”

“Let’s not kill your boyfriend, ‘kay?” said one of the students, an American. “He owes me twenty d…err, pounds. Damn currency.”

“Crap, I totally forgot about that!” Shirou stammered, fishing a few bills out of his pockets and handing them over. “I’m really, really sorry.”

“No worries. You can make him strangely attracted to the center of the earth as much as you want now, Tohsaka.”

“Well, that’s not very nice of you. Pick a side and stick with it.”

He waved her off. Rin turned to look at Shirou.

“I don’t like him,” she said matter-of-factly. “What’s his name?”

Shirou just shrugged. It was for her own good that she didn’t find out.

When they returned to their apartment, Rin walked over to the pantry and took out some ingredients—which Shirou stole right out of her hands.

“Tohsaka, you gave me your word that you would—”

“Ugh, don’t say it! Fine, alright, I’ll write her a letter. Don’t expect very much. But can we at least make dinner first?”

Shirou heaved out a sigh.

“You’re writing that letter now, or I’m not making breakfast for you for the next week.”

She stared at him. There was no way he’d do that. He knew she needed the time he saved her every morning.

“You’re bluffing.”

“I’m dead serious.”

Tohsaka knew she was going to hate herself for doing it, but she had no choice anymore.

She gave him puppy dog eyes.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t very good at making them, and mostly just gave him an incredibly intense stare, which had him struggling to not laugh.

“I’m holding you to this.”

Her kicked-dog whimper was more effective. But it was too little too late. She sat herself down at her desk, and started writing.


Dear Sakura,

Well, I accidentally let it slip that we were sisters the other day, so naturally Shirou won’t stop badgering me about calling you. I’m not going to do that, and it’s not like I owe you any explanations for why that is, but here we are.

I’ll apologize for one thing, and one thing only. I’m sorry I didn’t make more of an effort to talk to you before I left. But really, what was I supposed to do? Go over to another magus’ house and say ‘Hi, Sakura it’s me, Rin, your estranged sister who hasn’t bothered to talk to you in fifteen years, just thought I’d drop by to say hello.’

If we’re going to do this, I may as well try to get to know you better. Didn’t really pick up on much from our godawful smalltalk. So, how have you been, since you were sent to live at the Matous?

(“No, I can’t say that…” she muttered. She crossed it out completely, leaving no trace of what had originally been said.)

…since father gave you up?

(“Are you kidding me?! That’s even worse!” she snarled at her own foolishness and crossed it out as well. She continued trying to finish the sentence to poor effect, crossing out what she wrote each time. By the time she stopped, she had scratched out three entire lines to the point of illegibility.)

…since everything happened?

(“Yeah,” she mumbled in exhaustion, “I can at least say that.”)

I mean, I’m sure you know what father was aiming for when he gave you to that decrepit old creature by now, but that doesn’t mean it was right.

They weren’t completely terrible to you, were they? You’d have told someone if something was wrong, right?

The truth is that I have actually missed you. It would have been nice to not always be alone in that big empty house. I’m also sure you probably aren’t too thrilled that I’m writing you now instead of just talking to you when I had the chance. I told Shirou this was a stupid idea. But he’s also threatening to stop cooking breakfast for me for a week if I don’t send this, which is mostly fine, I’m a good cook myself, but still…

[No surprise,] she wrote in the margin beside the mention of Shirou’s ‘bad’ idea. [Most of his ideas are stupid. He occasionally (very occasionally) seems like a clever boy, but more often than not, he just says and does the dumbest things. It’s almost enough to make me pull my hair out sometimes. I'm exaggerating, of course, but nonetheless]

Look, write back if you want. Or don’t. It really doesn’t matter to me, but I’ll probably be writing again anyways, so you don’t have to do anything, I guess.

Your sister,

Rin

"There," said Rin. "Are we good now?" "Wonderful," said Shirou. And with that, she got on with her day. She was never doing that again. On the other hand, if she just sent this letter to the Matou house, if Sakura herself wasn't the one to pick it up, there was every chance in the world that it would be destroyed. And if that happened… She looked at Shirou warily. "What's Miss Fujimura's address?" she asked, immediately penning up a few decoys.

* * * * *

Six months later, Rin was checking their mailbox, not expecting much more than bank statements or flyers, but her hand brushed against an envelope that wasn’t regulation sized.

She blinked.

It was impossible, right?

Since writing her first letter, Shirou had managed to badger her into writing two more letters. The following letters however, were written of her own volition, to both Shirou’s surprise as well as her own.

Somehow, even if Sakura wasn’t replying, something about writing the letters had made her feel…something. A connection she hadn’t felt in a long time, even if it didn’t go two ways.

At least, until she finally worked up the nerve to pull the letter out of her box.

In a happy coincidence, Shirou happened to come into the lobby a few moments later. He found her staring at an envelope, speechless.

Shirou looked over her shoulder, curious as to what she was staring at. He saw the return address.

It wasn’t the Matou residence. But there was only one person who would be writing her whose return address included Fuyuki City, and it sure wasn't Taiga.

“I… I got a response.”

The two of them hurried back to their apartment and tore the letter open.

What they found…wasn’t quite what Shirou had hoped. In fact, he actually had trouble believing that the person who had written back was actually Sakura.


Dear Tohsaka,

Thank you for writing. Things are about what you’d expect. Not great, but I can’t complain either.

Shinji hasn’t had much time to pick on me. The house has been trying to kill him for some reason, and nobody wants to put him up for any period of time, so it’s up to me to keep him safe.

So, I guess I can complain after all. Even though Shinji never hits me anymore, the house is just coming to life and doing it anyway.

Speaking of being alive, Zouken is extremely old. He’s definitely not actually anyone’s grandfather. Maybe a great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, but there is no reason he should be alive right now. And there is nothing great about him. If you ever saw him, you’d understand. He looks like a corpse, and his eyes are scary. I don’t know why your father trusted him, because one look in his eyes is enough to see there’s something wrong with him. But I'm sure you already know all that.

Given the choice between you and this Luvia girl having Senpai, I would prefer it if he stayed with you. So, show this other (something had been aggressively scratched off the page here.) girl who’s in charge.

Please don’t give me details on your relationship though.

It’s funny you should mention that he wakes you up in the morning, because I sometimes woke him up during high-school.

Okay, I’ll admit that was meant to be another passive-aggressive jab, but I still have to wonder, how did he manage to sleep on a concrete floor? Having fallen asleep in a few uncomfortable places myself, I’ll admit I’m not in the best position to judge, but on the few occasions he wasn’t awake when I got there, he was rarely in his room. I’d always find him sprawled out in the storage shed. Have you gotten any insight into that?

You can’t get up in the morning? That’s strange. You always seemed to lead a perfect life. It seems strange to think that you would have any flaws. Kind of like you’re lying. But just in case you’re not, I’ve been getting up before sunrise for years.

Your sister,
Regards,
From,

Sakura Matou


Tohsaka was astonished. She was both excited by the prospect of actually communicating with her sister again, but at the same time, appalled by the resentful tone of the letter.

How much had Shinji really bullied her? It was definitely a response to one of her more recent letters, considering that Luvia was mentioned, and she hadn't asked nearly enough about her lately, so there weren't any answers that she could get from the letter on its own.

She also reminded herself not to jump to conclusions. Shinji was Shirou's friend, once upon a time, regardless of how fucked up he became.

“I've…never even seen her get mad before,” Shirou said quietly. “I just…can't imagine why Sakura would write something like this…”

“I can,” said Rin. She wasn't sure if she had it in her to write back in a way that wouldn't push Sakura even further away than she already was, but at the same time, she really did want to try.

“Dammit! Just bite the bullet!” she growled, startling Shirou. She leaped up from the couch, grabbed a sheet of paper and sat down at the table.
This was going to hurt a bit.

“Shirou, I'll need your help keeping me on track here.”

“Eh?”

“You know me, I'm really bad at just… being nice. Or admitting to flaws, and I may have to do something like that.”

Shirou nodded his agreement and sat down next to her at the table. When they were finished, Tohsaka wasn't feeling very happy, but she was able to accept what they had written back.


Dear Sakura,

I’m sorry you feel that way.

I also admit I deserve any and all criticism you have for me. If railing on me makes you feel better, I won’t complain. I don’t have the right. And if Emiya wasn’t sitting here breathing down my neck, there is no way I would ever have admitted that.

Life was far from perfect, and it was selfish of me to let you think so. It wasn’t fair for me to make you feel jealous, especially considering that I barely know anything about your situation.

Father died not too long after you were taken away, and shortly after that, Mother suffered some sort of head injury, and… you don’t even want to know. It was almost terrifying to listen to her. She thought that you and Father were still around, and was always talking to these phantoms.

After she died, that freaky priest became my guardian. You know the creepy man who ran the church in New City? Him. He used to be Father’s apprentice. He’s dead now. I wish it had been messier.

I’m torn between feeling glad you thought I lived a perfect life, and feeling guilty for not being honest with you. The whole thing was an act. I’m something of a pleasure-seeker, and I get a sense of satisfaction from making people envy me. That was the reason I came to school. It was all a game to me. Except in your case and eventually Emiya’s. I only got perfect grades, joined the student council, and made myself look perfect because I wanted everyone to think I was the blessed heir to the Tohsaka family, when in fact I was just a jaded orphan, with an absent and ultimately sociopathic guardian. He tried to kill me in the Holy Grail War.

Shinji has a rape-dance by the way. Not entirely unrelated.

(“Wait, what?” Shirou asked, deadpan.)

(“I mean exactly what I wrote.”)

The student council president was really the only normal person who saw through my ruse, even partially. He was pretty sharp for a regular human.

Oh, also, Shirou’s told me once or twice that I have a short temper, that I hold really long grudges, and that I’m overconfident because of my natural talent. But I don’t believe any of that…

(“Can I please get rid of that?”)

(“You could, but I wouldn't if I were you. She clearly wants something to feel better about herself with, so it would help if you made her feel…well, put bluntly, like a better person than you, at least in some ways.”)

(“This is driving me crazy!”)

I really wish I had done more. I’m probably going to regret it for the rest of my life, and it kind of serves me right.

Emiya’s telling me that isn’t true, but he has a thing for always seeing the best in people he likes. Which is really dumb, and he has to stop. He has to start seeing the world in more than just black and white.

That’s one of my projects here actually; Shirou-Rehab. He was in a big disaster as a child, and since he survived, it’s like he believes his life doesn’t belong to him. So yeah, he’s crazy. And if he weren’t sitting right next to me breathing down my neck, I wouldn’t have felt the need to write that.

(“Do you really have to say that?”)

(“Think you can stop me?” Rin asked testily.)

(“Don’t forget that you’re the one who asked for my help.”)

By the way, if everything sucks, go find a puppy. They can solve all your problems for hours. Which is a proven fact: Even Shirou isn’t immune.

Wishing you a reversal of fortune,

Rin

P.S. Shirou slept on concrete?!? Well, this explains a lot. Like why he says that our hardwood floor is comfortable. And yes, he has actually said that. There’s even a sofa right next to him, but nope, he wants the floor.


She could physically feel his eyes rolling at her as she wrote the postscript.

Sakura's response felt like it took a long time, but Tohsaka realized it actually arrived faster than usual when she looked at the calendar. It wasn't very cohesive either, but she supposed it addressed everything she had asked about in the previous letter.


Dear Tohsaka,

I'm sorry about our parents. I didn't know.

I don't know who the priest you're talking about is.

Senpai's still sleeping on the floor?! Why!? And I didn't know he was caught up in a disaster. So you're trying to make him realize that he can still live his life for himself, or something?

Also, the dog thing won't work. Animals don't tend to like me. Shinji turns into a different person around dogs though.

Do you think that Senpai might be able to write me once in a while too?

From,
Regards,

Sakura Matou


Overall, it wasn't very uplifting. However…

“Well, you saw what the lady said. Get writing. Then dinner.”

Even if Sakura was angry with her, they were still talking. She remembered dreaming about being able to be sisters again when she was still a child. At least, briefly, before she’d had to smother such thoughts. She had long dismissed the notion as being naïve and, well, childish, but it was actually happening now. The magic of written correspondence.

And to think she had been so adamantly against this. The Rin of yesterday was a dummy.

…The Rin of today was probably going to buy something scandalously sexy to wear for Shirou on a special occasion.

* * * * *

Rin had taken to staring absently out the window over the past several months. Her new Collaboration Club was really making her think, and she found she was able to do that very well while looking at the London skyline from their apartment. Every once in a while, her eyes would stray to the ground. Sometimes just because some sort of movement caught her attention, or sometimes because there was a specific person who’s presence was unusual. In this case it was the latter. She scampered into her room and hurried back to the window with a pair of opera glasses. She took another look.

“Oh, what’s Fiore doing all the way out here? She lives on the other side of campus, if memory serves.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just that’s Fiore Forvedge,” she said, pointing at the ground, where Shirou could see a brunette in a white blouse sitting in a wheelchair.

“Who’s she?”

“We’re acquaintances, and credit where it’s due, she’s a very talented mage. She’s been studying here for a while now, but I don’t see her very often. It’s just that she’s paraplegic and…well, as I said, her residence is pretty far from this side of campus.”

“Can you think of any reason she might be here then?” asked Shirou.

“I doubt she got herself lost, that’s far too convenient of an explanation. Maybe she’s meeting someone? It wouldn’t be a surprise. The Forvedge family’s incredibly wealthy. The Yggdmillenia family’s been after her and her brother for years, despite the fact that she’s turned them away every time they ask. And I can understand why. They want her in their ranks so much that they haven’t even made any attempts to kill her if she doesn’t join them because they don’t want to risk losing her potential.”

“Who exactly are these people?”

“A bunch of generally vile human beings. Darnic Prestone Yggdmillenia’s a two-faced plagiarist, and he’s been letting just about anyone into his family lately. The Icecolles for instance. They’d really press your Hero buttons. In the bad way. I don’t think even you would feel compelled to save any of them.”

“How’s that?”

“Even the most basic forms of their family’s magecraft require…well…human sacrifice. This is all according to rumor, actually, if I’m being perfectly honest.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, you’re right on the mark,” said the voice of their uninvited landlady.

Rin seethed at the intrusion, grinding her teeth, but she didn’t stop Luvia. After all, this was useful info, and she was getting it free of charge.

“I had the misfortune of meeting Celenike once. She killed two terrified children right in front of me. The spell was impressive, but she failed to hide the look on her face as she cut them up. She wasn’t quick about it either, carving them up by degrees, and listening to them scream. And it was obvious that she was getting some sort of psychotic sexual thrill out of it, if the blush on her face and dilated pupils were any indication.

“I’m sure if she’d sensed my pure repulsion toward her, she’d have gutted me as well.”

“And how did you have the dubious pleasure of meeting this lunatic in the first place?”

“She invited herself to my family’s estate in Finland. Tried to steal a few of our secrets, and to that end had a pair of little girls on leashes. The murder apparently allowed her to scan our entire mansion.”

"Wow. Stealing from the hyenas. Whatever pride as a mage she has is grossly misplaced."

"Oh hush, you ignorant little…"

“I wasn’t even aware that human sacrifice was actually practiced. Why wouldn’t they have abolished something like that?” Shirou cringed in disgust. “I mean even if you ignore their complete moral bankruptcy, wouldn’t it only be effective to sacrifice people with high magic circuit counts? They’d be all over someone doing that for wasting resources.”

“Actually, you’ve got a point there,” Rin muttered. “Someone should mention that to one of the professors. Maybe they’ll even have an answer. On the other hand, maybe no one does anything about it because doing so would make anyone who tried a target, along with their families.”

Shirou winced.

“Ugh. I still don’t think I have the stomach for these people.”

“Hey, if you want to go risk your life to ruin their operations, be my guest, but…” Rin’s eyes softened, apparently having changed her mind. “Actually, no, please, don’t do that.”

Shirou clapped her on the shoulder.

“Not going anywhere. Don’t worry about that. Weren’t we talking about those two girls down there though?”

“Wait, what do you mean two? The only person down there is Forvedge.”

“No, some other girl joined her around the time Luvia barged in,” Shirou noted. Giving Luvia an odd shrug. “Sorry, but you did come in uninvited.”

“No offence taken, dear Shero.”

Rin ground her teeth together so tightly at the weird pet name that Shirou thought they might crack.

The two girls looked outside to discover that a second young woman had joined the girl in the wheelchair. From their place on the fourth floor, features were difficult to discern, but she was had platinum blonde hair and appeared to be wearing a uniform of some sort. Rin brought her opera glasses back up and swore and was immediately reprimanded by her rival in blue for her foul mouth. She ignored her and kept talking.

“So, she is meeting someone after all. Two high profile visitors at the same time, and they’re here together. This isn’t a coincidence.”

“What? Who is that? Let me have those!” Luvia grabbed for Rin’s stage binoculars, snatching them out of her hands and putting them to her eyes just long enough to identify the other woman.

“Ah, so she was reeled in by Chaldea, I see,” she mused.

“What? I mean, I’m assuming,” said Shirou, “that you aren’t talking about the Semitic nation from the biblical era, so…”

“They’re a ‘forward thinking’ organization trying to incorporate science into magecraft. The two concepts are normally mutually exclusive, however, they’re finding a way it seems. They’ve even brought non-mages into their fold.”

“Yeah, forward thinking my ass, just messing around with nonsensical techno-gibberish.”

Sensing weakness, Luvia immediately capitalized on her opportunity.

“Now, now, Tohsaka, no need to get all hot under the collar simply because you can’t understand the basics of technology.”

“Right, because last I checked you were such an expert on that subject!” Rin snapped back, moving away from the window and snarling into Luvia’s face. “How many times have you even used a microwave or a coffee machine?”

That shut Luvia up quite soundly, and after snarling at each other for another minute, they both looked out the window again.

“So you were telling me who that was?”

“We didn’t already cover that?” Rin asked, putting the stage glasses to her eyes, leading Luvia’s attention to the fact that her own hand was now empty and Rin had managed to remove the prop without her noticing. She ground her teeth in a manner that was most certainly completely unlike her rival beside her. Then she reminded herself that ladies didn’t grind their teeth, and stopped.

“You only told me about Chaldea. But that’s a thing, not a person.”

“Right, right. That’s Olga-Marie Animusphere. She the current director of Chaldea,” Rin paused, squinting through the opera glasses. “Geez… I thought she looked young, but she can’t possibly be much older than we are, if that.”

“So, a genius and the head of a mage organization,” Shirou wondered. “What do you think they’re doing here?”

“Probably getting funding for a big project. I doubt that’ll happen though. On the other hand, showing off Fiore’s face could work in Animusphere’s favor,” Rin explained, gesturing at the two women down at ground level. “She’s likely using her new member as a prop to influence the brass here.”

“Seems manipulative.”

“Yeah, but no more than usual.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“Please don’t make a scene.”

“I don’t think you even need him for that, Tohsaka.”

She spun around and snarled at the fiend from Finland.

“What was that?!”

“Oh, I do believe you heard me the first time.”

Shirou sighed helplessly, resting his head on the windowsill as Rin and Luvia bickered back and forth. A soft breeze swept through the flat, rustling a few loose papers.

Eventually, the two girls settled into a debate over what the two notable women were doing here, and after spacing out for a while, something caught Shirou’s attention and he sat back up, just as the girls turned back to the window.

“Hey, where’d they go?” Rin asked.

“Probably on their way up here.”

The two girls just about jumped out of their skins.

“What?!” shrieked Rin.

“Why would they be doing that?!” Luvia stammered.

“I’m guessing because they noticed you spying on them and decided to confront you. Us. Dammit. Why did I have to get dragged into this?”

“Well I for one am not cleaning up your mess,” snapped Luvia, storming over to the door with some impressively righteous indignation, considering that she was half to blame. She threw the door open, took one step out, collided with something solid and landed flat on her backside. In a most dignified manner, of course.

“Oh, hello,” she said, even as her composure beginning to crack, “What-a-surprise-who-might-you-be?”

“Don’t give me that show of innocence, you weren’t exactly being subtle.”

“Oh, fine… very well. Welcome to my apartment complex,” she said, choking on her pride as it actively attempted to throttle her. “How might I help you today?”

“Luvia, this is still our apartment that they’ve come to, so at least let me welcome them inside, considering I’m the only one here who wasn’t actively watching them.”

“You see, Madam Director, I told you that this was the right door,” said a soft voice. Fiore leaned forward in her wheelchair to peer inside the room.

“Oh, Miss Edelfelt, and Miss Tohsaka? I thought I recognized a voice. I didn’t know you lived here.” She turned to look at Shirou, “Oh, there’s another? Hello, a pleasure to meet you,” she said, offering Shirou her left hand, “My name is Fiore Forvedge.”

“I’m Shirou Emiya,” he answered, and after a moment of hesitation, responded with a firm handshake. “Tohsaka says you two know each other.”

“That we do. Not as well as I would like, but nevertheless.”

“Hmm, not half bad,” said the girl standing in the doorway, her voice carrying a distinct air of appraisal, as though she were used to analyzing things on a regular basis. Or maybe just used to being constantly scrutinized, as her sudden change in tone indicated. “Now start explaining yourselves. What do you hope to gain from spying on us?”

“Nothing. They just let their curiosity get the best of them, and didn’t notice that they weren’t being subtle, by any stretch of the term,” Shirou sighed.

The platinum blonde girl, Olga-Marie, if Rin's info was accurate, squinted at him. She walked inside and gave him a closer look, as though she were examining a suit of armor for cracks that she could exploit.

“And you?” she asked.

“I just live here.”

“And collect swords, by the looks of things,” said the girl in the wheelchair, rolling inside, giving Luvia—who was still on the floor, and now sitting against the wall in stupefaction—a polite wave, “Some of these are very nice. Thank you for your hospitality by the way.”

“You really don’t have to show any courtesy to a bunch of eavesdropping brutes,” said the woman standing on her own.

“You’re Olga-Marie, right?”

“Miss Animusphere will do just fine.”

“Okay, if that’s what you’d prefer,” Shirou agreed diplomatically, “Are you really the director of a mage society?”

“No, I’m not. I’m the director of a Security Bureau, thank you very much. Chaldea’s primary goal is to ensure the perpetuation of human civilization. You should be thanking us, not trying to steal from us.”

“Madam Director, you could afford to be a little less intimidating,” Fiore chirped, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she tried not to laugh. She swiveled to face Rin, “The truth is that we were only wondering how far away from the Clock Tower we would have to go before we could find a nice place to eat. Erm, before we came up to your flat, that is. You’d have had no way of pilfering a mystery whether you were eavesdropping or not.”

Strangely enough, Olga didn’t look happy that Fiore had given this away.
“You just gave up any leverage we had over them,” she said bluntly.

“Why do we need any? Tohsaka has an overbearing personality from what little I’ve seen of her but she isn’t going to damage your reputation or anything of the sort. And I’ll be perfectly honest, having me in their flat is enough of a threat on it’s own.” She clicked the fingers of her right hand against her wheelchair’s armrest and the three Clock Tower mages noticed that her arm was encased in a white glove reaching up to her shoulder and held in place by a buckle. At least, the sleeve was like that of a glove; the piece fitted over her hand was much closer to a gauntlet. It was white like the rest of the apparatus, but also had bronze claws at the end of her fingers and studs along her knuckles. A number of wires ran from the inside of the sleeve to a disc around her wrist. Shirou attempted to analyze its basic structure, but as it wasn’t a blade, doing so from a distance wasn’t a simple task. What he could determine was that the device had something to do with what looked to be four pipes that wrapped their way from the back of her wheelchair to somewhere beneath its seat.

“Oh, you needn’t worry,” she said with an embarrassed smile, raising her arms in a placating gesture. “I keep this on in case of emergencies, but I would never use my Bronze-Link Manipulators without very clear provocation. It’d make a nasty mess besides. More to the point, it’s intended for self-defense, not so that I can go attacking people willy-nilly. But enough of that. As I said, Madam Director and I were looking for an eatery in the area, and to my knowledge, we don’t have any restaurants on the premises, other than the cafeterias, which are good, but nevertheless merely fast food with magecraft, so since there wasn’t any shady business taking place up here, we should really be going. Actually, would any of you happen to know of anywhere…” she trailed off as she noticed the red and blue mages’ eyes gravitating to Shirou, who appeared to have had some sort of switch flipped on in his head. No longer looking subdued at all, he immediately began pulling a series of baking dishes and measuring cups out of the cupboards above the counter. A cut of meat came out of the refrigerator along with a number of ingredients. Several more were also removed from the cupboards.

“Is he…?”

“You just pressed his hospitality button,” Rin shot the three other women a sardonic grin. “He can’t resist feeding his guests if they’re hungry. It’s a force of habit.” She looked at her significant other and asked, “Can I tell them about Miss Fujimura?”

Shirou filled a pot with water and set it down on the stove, setting the element to maximum before stripping two stalks of rosemary. “Go ahead, I guess. It’s not like they’ll ever meet her,” he said.

“Wonderful. His homeroom English teacher, Miss Fujimura, was a close friend of his late father, and she was sort of an older sister to him. She was never short on cash because despite being a teacher, she’s also the heir to the Fujimura Group, with is a branch of the Yakuza—”

“Pardon me, the what?” Fiore asked, genuinely curious.

“Think of it as the Japanese mafia. Yes, our hyperactive high-school English teacher is in fact a future mob queen—Moving on.

“She would go over to his house every day and got two square meals out of him. They say that there is no free lunch. There is, in fact, a free breakfast and dinner, apparently, at least when it comes to Shirou Emiya. Like I said, he can’t resist. This went on for a number of years that Shirou hasn’t bothered to keep track of, but almost a decade at the very least.”

Fiore was wide-eyed, while Olga-Marie’s irate expression hadn’t changed at all throughout the little detour. Shirou hadn’t really been paying attention; too busy pressing his fourth clove of garlic and chopping up rosemary.

“Luvia, are you staying for dinner too?” Shirou asked just a bit absently. The water had started boiling, so he turned down the element, then reached into the fridge for a stalk of broccoli and placed it into the pot.

He sounded much more amicable than Rin was comfortable with. Granted, even if he were to take a stern tone with Luvia with an irate undertone, she would have still found it too friendly, so that was sort of a moot point.

Luvia, on her part simply stood back up, dusted herself off and politely declined. Perhaps she felt she didn’t have enough background information to keep an upper hand in this particular situation, but it was only typical of Luvia to see everything as a competition.

Rin, on the other hand, was completely different. Absolutely. No question about it. She breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the obscenely fancy blonde had left the room.

Shirou poured some sort of sauce over the meat, which was now sitting inside a glass baking dish, before removing it and thoroughly coating it with powdered rosemary and chopped garlic.

“You know, you could sit down if you want, Miss Animusphere,” noted Rin, gesturing to the sofa in the corner of the room.”

“I’ll stand, thank you,” Olga grumbled. “I’m not going to leave myself vulnerable to—Dear God!What in the hell is he doing to those bananas?”

Indeed, he had pulled the peel off, and the entire thing just fell off the fruit, which was no surprise, since said peel was almost completely black, which meant something about the insides. He then proceeded to crush the fruit into a mixmaster bowl with both hands. Aside from the phallic imagery, the bananas were most certainly not edible. They were a few days away at most from being slime after all. And that was being generous. …Probably.

There were, in fact, other ingredients in that mixing bowl of course, but Rin decided it would be more amusing if she didn’t tell them that.

“He isn’t going to make us eat that, is he?” Fiore asked.

“He won’t make you do anything. I on the other hand—”

“Stop tormenting the guests, Tohsaka,” Shirou interrupted. “This is an apartment, not purgatory.”

“Who says it can’t be both?”

“Tohsaka!”

“Aw, fine! …You’re no fun anymore. And that wasn’t nearly approaching torment.”

Shirou sighed, and turned on the electric beater, mixing the mush into something akin to batter. Tohsaka wondered why the two intruders-turned-guests didn’t seem to have realized that yet as he put the beef in the oven.


---Forty-five Minutes Later…---


“Are you clandestinely running a restaurant out of this flat?” asked Fiore, placing four more strips of Shirou’s butcher’s steak onto her plate. “Is this man you live with a chef? …Does he do catering?”

“Chef, blacksmith, bleeding heart altruist; you can really take your pick. Actually, I’m not half bad either. He regularly teaches me things, and we even compete sometimes. Helps us keep our edge. —Wait, you sounded a little too eager there asking if he did catering…”

“Why, of course I did,” Fiore said without missing a beat, “I haven’t eaten this well in weeks, thank you very much.”

“Well, more money wouldn’t be a bad thing…” Rin mused.

“I’ll decide what part-time jobs I take, thank you very much, Tohsaka. But I’m really glad you like the food.”

“Madam Director, the least you could do is thank our hosts.”

“They could still be trying to poison us,” said Olga, who had since resigned herself to sitting down at the table.

“That's not even funny. I’d eat my own poison if I ever ruined my cooking with it. You’ll know if your food is poisoned because I’ll die first,” he grumbled.

“He definitely would. Shirou takes food very seriously,” Rin noted. “Poisoning something he made… it’d tear his poor, poor heart out.”

“Anyway…” Shirou trailed off, not liking the direction this conversation was headed.

He stood up, went to the oven and came back to the table a few minutes later, carrying a freshly baked pastry that had a fluffy texture reminiscent of pound cake. Placing it on a trivet, he went to the cupboard and fetched dessert dishes for everyone as they finished the main course.

“That was wonderful. I’ll thank you in the Director’s place since she’s likely not in any mood to do so. She very much liked the potatoes if the way she kept scooping more onto her plate was any indication.”

Olga gave an almost inaudible whine and shrank into her seat, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Actually, what is this?” Fiore asked as she took a slice of the cake. She took a forkful, chewed slowly, swallowed, then, “Hmm, I don’t think I’ve ever had cake quite like this one. The chocolate chips are a nice touch. They add a nice accent to the flavor.”

Rin’s smile widened. Oh, she’d waited almost an hour for this singular moment.

“It’s banana bread.”

Fiore barely held onto her composure and Olga, ever the upstart, nearly choked in the middle of a bite. Her fork fell to the table.

“Oh my god…” she whispered in equal parts awe and horror.

“This… is what became of those bananas?” Fiore looked down at her dessert plate.

“It can’t be possible,” Olga croaked.

“You’re not serious are you?” asked Fiore.

“Completely,” Tohsaka nodded. “Can you honestly say you don’t like it though?”

“It’s the truth,” Shirou confirmed. “I was looking up new recipes a few months ago and found a few sources that all said old bananas make for better banana bread.”

“Baking month old bananas into a cake…” Fiore mused, her voice bearing a distinctly melancholic tone.

“Two weeks old, actually.”

“I wish it weren’t so good!” Olga choked out, taking another bite, and wincing at how much she enjoyed it.

Rin’s predatory smirk was glued into place. If only Shirou could have left things well enough alone.

“Tohsaka, you really shouldn’t be making that face at them. You had the same reaction the first time around,” he turned to the two girls across the table. “Actually, it was a lot more aggressive. She tried to smash the cake tin with a—”

“Okay, one more word out of you, and you’re going to wake up tomorrow morning either as a furry, or with a long ‘traditional’ wizard beard.” Rin interrupted. Shirou stopped immediately, his only retaliation a brief roll of his eyes.

The guests looked at him.

“Wait, you’re just going to take that?” asked Olga.

“She’d do it without a second thought,” he explained.

“I somehow feel that this may be an abusive relationship. Exactly why do you two like each other?” asked Fiore, “She seems so mean to you.”

“She’s… actually no, it’d be funny, but I can’t say that in front of people,” Shirou chuckled. “Take two: Neither of us is bound by the maddened shackles of Akashic obsession and paranoia, and we both find that incredibly attractive.”

“Hmm, I almost believed you had an ego there, Shirou,” Rin smarmed.

“Well, that, and she’s also not nearly as mean as she likes to think she is. Ow,” he added nonchalantly as Rin dug her heel into his foot.

“I suppose I’ll simply have to move on and accept this,” Fiore mused. “The banana cake, I mean, not a comment on your relationship.”

Deciding it was time for a change of subject, Rin was about to ask Fiore how she came upon her mystic code when they heard an unfamiliar ringtone.

Olga reached into her coat pocket and removed a cell phone, answering her call with a tap to the screen. Rin winced. Smart phones. They didn’t seem all that smart to her.

“Hello, this is Director Animus—Oh!” she cut herself off. “I’m so sorry. I completely lost track of time. We’ll be there right away.”

The way her voice softened while talking to whoever was calling her was actually quite jarring, particularly after her perfectly curt behavior throughout most of the meal. Rin could hear someone chattering frantically on the other end of the line. She could make out the words, ‘…waiting…twenty minutes…worried…something happened…’

“I know. I’m really, really sorry. We’re on our way right now……I know, thank you for waiting so long……Goodbye Leff. I’ll see you soon.”

“Sorry, Fiore, I know you’ve been enjoying yourself here, but we’ve fallen almost half-an-hour behind schedule.”

“Oh. Oh dear, I suppose we really do need to get going then.”

Olga stood up and set her jaw.

“Thank you for…treating us to dinner,” she said, somewhat reluctantly, “It’s… appreciated.”

She didn’t make eye contact with either of her hosts, but somehow it still felt genuine.

“It was all delicious,” said Fiore, her hands moving to the rails of her wheelchair and rolled away from her spot at the table. “I’m so sorry to have troubled you.”

“It’s no problem at all,” said Shirou. He and Rin escorted their guests to their front door. “Always nice to see that there are other mages here who have a moral compass.”

“Fiore, we’re in a hurry,” Olga said, already out in the hallway.

Fiore beamed.

“I really shouldn’t keep Madam Director waiting any longer. It’s been quite the pleasure.”

“Goodbye, then.”

“Uh…so long, I guess.” Shirou gave a small wave.

Fiore waved back, whereas Olga simply walked away to the elevators.

“We got a little aggressive a few times there, didn’t we,” noted Rin as Shirou closed the door.

“Yeah. We kinda did,” Shirou answered.

The apartment went silent except for a few sounds from outside and some clinking as Shirou started cleaning the dishes.

“Hey, Shirou, pin me against the wall later.”

“Okay, sure,” he said reflexively. She waited for what she had asked of him to register, and sure enough, a few seconds later, “Wait, you want me to what?”

“Too late to take it back,” she sang.

“That’s bull, and you know it.”

“No I don’t!” she chirped, sweeping away to her bedroom.

After all, she was ‘Present’ Rin. Now in two senses of the term.

Fishing an old purchase out of its bag, she slipped out of her clothes and replaced them with her new… well, for now, she’d just call them her distraction. He wouldn’t be able to resist.

She was wearing swords after all. Not real ones, but the two pieces of lingerie were connected by a pair of giant sword-themed plastic clips that were the only things covering her breasts. The back of the ‘bra,’ if it could even be called that, and it really couldn’t, was just made to keep them in place. They fit through a pair of slits in the panties. Overall, it was the ultimate Shirou seduction ploy. For now at least. She’d come up with something better eventually, but for now, she could probably lure him into a bear trap with this.

“So, Shirou, are you sure you won’t do it?”

Shirou sighed and turned around, glass in hand, to gently rebuke her, but no, her plot worked. The glass fell from his hand and clattered along the floor. Trust Shirou to buy tempered glass cups.

They’d finish cleaning up tomorrow. This was way more important.

* * * * *


Dear Sakura,

Hope all is well. Living situation improving any? The weasel isn’t being a total prick to you is he? Because I can curse him through the next letter if you want. Please tell me to curse him. I can make him perceive directions as colors.

Did my suggestions work, by the way? The priests at Ryuudou temple may not be aware of magecraft, but their practices are based on Mysteries.

Sorry to make this letter so short, but I won’t have time to write very much for the next week. I kind of accidentally overthrew Shirou’s non-paranoid magus after-school-club and now we’re actually doing something that could actually be considered important.

I’ll be in contact again before the end of the month.

Your sister,

Rin


Her suggestion had worked. Though he’d taken it in about the grouchiest way possible, Lord El-Melloi II had seemed very interested in what she’d had to offer him. Seeing a group of students cooperating without a ton of ulterior motives had quite impressed him, so he’d agreed to help out. He’d instructed them in the creation of five magical arrays that assisted up to four students in using their abilities directly in conjunction with one another. They were now clearly embossed against the apartment floor in plaster. He had also given the club various projects to work on:

Could they incorporate runic powers into the creation and function of mystic codes? Maybe Emiya could only project swords, but what if Rin were to activate his magic circuits remotely using their latent connection? Maybe she could create something else? Not that she needed Shirou if she wanted to use gradation air. It was all part of the project, and she hadn’t been about to risk anyone finding out what Shirou’s real ability was. Either way, these were only a few of the early ideas they had before they really started brainstorming.

Lord El-Melloi had also given the group an official name: The Metamagecraft Collaboration Club. Rin thought it sounded like something out of an idiotic computer game, and it obviously wasn’t used on the official reports, on which the 'class' was labelled as a very long lecture series entitled Applications and Functions of Magecraft in Regards to Science and Technology. But regardless of her opinion, the name had stuck. The study group was listed as an extracurricular class, like any other lecture series that wasn’t being directly funded by the Association. The Clock Tower hierarchy who were always scrutinizing Lord El-Melloi seemed satisfied that he couldn’t do anything significantly damaging with so few students of high standing, so they had let the club do whatever they wanted without checking in on them. It probably also had to do with the fact that the topic involved subjects that made mages run away screaming, to put it figuratively. The ones of greater psychological fortitude just thought it sounded incredibly stupid, and thus, not worth their time. And it wasn't like he was getting paid for it. Though the members weren’t always having fun now, they were also getting school credit for their activities.

Shirou's current assignment was to work with Coulter, and another member named Malcolm Richards on a project involving time alter and whether it could be used to speed up a difficult projection ritual that normally took several hours. Specifically, earlier that week, Lord El-Melloi had dropped a series of increasingly complex objects off with them, and assigned them the task of replicating them in perfect detail. Coulter had the time alter spell engraved in his magic crest, and Richards specialized in projection. However, he had a particular failing when it came to analyzing preexisting objects, or at least anything he wasn't responsible for creating, so that was where Shirou came in.

The first few items hadn't been that difficult; a folding chair, a monkey wrench, a deck of cards, and a few other marginally simple objects. They hadn't even required time alter. Then they got to a toaster, and things started to get more difficult, so Coulter finally got to participate. That one had apparently taken three hours for them, but to the rest of the group, they had only spent nine minutes of blurry-looking gestures on it.

They had naturally needed a break after that. They only got one day, but tat was enough for Shirou at least.

Rin happened to know that El-Melloi had a stocked mini-fridge hidden in a secret compartment behind one of the two wall-to-wall bookshelves in his office—in fact, he had an entire other room hidden away in there. More of a walk-in-closet, to be sure, but still, surprising. She knew all this because she had analyzed the office from outside once. Just wanted to get a feel for who the man was. Unfortunately, she also got caught: She had made sure to wait until he and his hooded assistant had left, and had gone to take a look a few minutes later. And they came back while she had her hand against the wall.

This was only relevant at the moment because it looked as though El-Melloi had brought that minifridge with him two days prior as the next part of Shirou's project. That had taken them the around half-an-hour. Evidently, it took a long time because Richards had to do two things at once: Project pieces of the device while also reading Shirou's mind for the schematics.

Finally, today El-Melloi had come in, and placed a game console in front of them.

He'd also told them that he didn't expect them to be able to do it. It was far more difficult to make circuit boards than a refrigerator after all, so the project wouldn't count for anything if it turned out to be impossible.
They'd taken it as a challenge. It had been an hour outside their time alter field, so Rin could only imagine how long it had been inside. She was a little concerned for Emiya though. Richards was something of a prick. Credit where it was due though, he had some impressive skills for just a second generation magus.

Whatever the case, Rin was starting to get just the tiniest suspicious of El-Melloi's motives. It wasn't a very well-kept secret that he played a lot of video games, and… well, minifridges were also expensive, and he rarely took advantage of his family's coffers…

"Whoa!"

Rin jumped as someone yelped elsewhere in the room, and she saw Hakuno tumble across the floor as a rune backfired, or rather blasted him away with a violent, frosty gust.

"I'm sorry. Really, I swear that it was an accident this time."

"I'm sure it was, Charlotte," Hakuno answered her, barely any of his irritation apparent on his features or in his tone.

Rin watched, only half-focusing on her own task, specifically creating a familiar using one of the other students' magecraft as a base to start from.

She couldn't understand it. Unlike many of the other members, she could have figured it out with little difficulty if she were trying, but she wasn't here to dilute mysteries, and thanks to their clever arrays, the only thing she had to understand was the theory and functionality.

"Trying again, Kishinami," Charlotte announced, a glowing rune appearing on the floor.

"Alright. Please though, don't blow me up a third time."

"I'm sorry. It's very complicated to maintain my Isa rune whilst also trying to access your particular brand of magecraft. I've never even heard of something that created its own mysteries before encountering you. I'm having some amount of difficulty merely keeping the rune inscribed with my focus split thus."

Hakuno sighed.

"Just… please be more careful," he strode back to his position on the array where Charlotte was attempting to make a mystic code capable of freezing objects. Several of the other students were already snickering about freeze rays, ice beams, and one very specific comic book villain.

Hakuno understood why they would feel this way; he immediately made the connection himself when El-Melloi II directed the two of them to make a mystic code that could project ice.

So far, all they had produced was some sort of thick hose. He had no idea what they were supposed to do with that. Fortunately, they had plenty of time to continue working on it before they were scheduled to be reassigned with different partners.

Elsewhere, El-Melloi II allowed himself a brief smirk as he thought about what he had assigned several of the students in the MMCC. He'd need to be on-site supervise if and when they finally got that freeze ray right, because that was going to be fun. Although he'd need to make sure those kids didn't have too much fun. That was how people got hurt… Or turned to ice.
The console would be interesting too if it worked. Hopefully one of the students that made it would be open to online matches. He really was sick of playing with randoms.

Speaking of which, he had let himself get distracted and was now trapped in an infinite combo. There went his win. He set his controller aside.

He really had only one grievance, and it was a problem that had him as its source. Specifically, he felt that he should have been doing more to find practical applications for his students' abilities. He had never conducted such a chaotic subject, so at the moment he was basically just throwing things at the wall to see what stuck.

But he needed to do better. If there was a way to advance mage society with these kids, and he knew there was, he was going to find it. Whether he knew how yet was irrelevant. He prided himself on only one thing: being a very good teacher. So even if the only person judging him was himself, he still felt his reputation was on the line.

He didn't know it yet, but his work was going to be untidily interrupted before he could come up with a solution.

* * * * *


Dear Rin,

Thank you for the stationary. In response to your question, Shinji and I are getting along better than we ever have, (written in the margin was He’s also very perturbed that you’re still calling him a weasel) although that may be entirely due to the fact that the house stops trying to kill him when I’m around.

Yes, we are still having that problem. And no, sutras, crosses, and your various other exorcism suggestions did not work. And if I go back to Ryuudou temple to ask for their help again, they’re all going to think I’m crazy.

All this being the case, this may sound strange, but if I were to attempt to start learning magecraft, what would be a good place to begin?

Your sister,

Sakura


Her hand started to shake as she read the last line of the letter. If looks could kill, her gaze would have been as lethal as a gorgon's.

“Tohsaka, are you alright?” Shirou asked.

As was par for the course, he was reading the letter over her shoulder as she sat at her desk.

She wasn’t surprised he was worried; she probably looked furious.

This wasn’t right. She was supposed to know magecraft already, wasn’t she? Hadn’t that been the entire purpose of separating them?!

“Something isn’t right here. You remember, I told you how magecraft is passed down through families from generation to generation.”

“Yeah?”

“My father gave Sakura to the Matous because she had incredible potential as a mage, just like me, but he couldn’t give his magic crest to both of us. He chose me, and the Matous adopted her, under the expectation that she would inherit their magic crest. I had assumed that she had been taught something, even if she hadn’t participated in the War, but she’s saying she doesn’t even know where to start.

“Now I have to assume that she hasn’t gotten any training from the Matou family…and in that case… What was the point! What was the goddamn point of father tearing her away from everything she knew?! From her real family!”

She swung her arm, knocking over her desk lamp, which clattered to the floor. Fortunately it was a utilitarian piece from Ikea, not an antique or something with a history. The casing still broke though. She sighed and made to stand up but Shirou just held up his hand and moved to pick up the chipped pieces.

“Is… is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, throwing the plastic shards into the wastebasket.

“Unless you can take me back in time so I can call Father an idiot, no. I… I always thought that Father was infallible, but if this is true… if Sakura was just wasted by that family, then he made a colossal error in judgement.”


Dear Sakura,

I’m afraid that there’s no ‘good’ place to start so to speak. Magecraft is passed down through families, and the families are expected to teach their children.

I don’t understand. Are you saying that you never were taught any magecraft? None at all? Wasn’t that the entire reason that father did what he did?! This is going to make him turn in his grave. Of course, if this is in fact the case, I guess it probably serves him right for being… well… incredibly careless.

If I were to make a suggestion, I would need to know more about your family’s form of magecraft first.

Luvia is still insisting on coming on to Shirou even with me around. I’m pretty sure that she’s just doing this to piss me off now. I apologize for having to cut this letter short, but I have to go plot a homicide.

Your sister,

Rin


Maybe not the most tactful way to end the letter, but hopefully it would draw Sakura’s attention away from the tension in the first paragraphs.

“Why, Father? Did you know this would happen? What did you do it for?” Rin whispered, folding her arms on the desk and laying her head down against them. She felt an unpleasant churning sensation in her stomach.

Infallible…

But if that were true…

Wouldn’t he have come back that day?


* * * * *

Continued in next post...

[Draconic]

The results of several assignments came in the following morning. For Shirou, Richards and Coulter, they had managed to finish constructing the game console. And evidently it worked. It was odd to watch the marks being given out, considering that the most surprised out of all four parties involved was El-Melloi himself. He was nothing short of flabbergasted.

He also wheeled in the minifridge they had successfully reproduced on a dolly and offered that to them in case one of them had a use for it.

'So he wasn't mooching for free stuff after all,' Rin thought. 'Well, that's boring. Though I suppose this is a good thing.'

Richards took the fridge. Coulter already owned one, and Shirou certainly didn't need it; their kitchen might not have been state of the art, but their refrigerator was a good one. Coulter declined El Melloi’s offer to give him the gaming platform, so that left Shirou as the only person who could take it, so he did.

She was surprised to find that El-Melloi decided to approach her after he was done relaying the results of the finished assignments. It suddenly occurred to her that he hadn't had a one-on-one session with her yet.

"Okay, I'll admit, I’ve been neglecting you because you are both a genius and talented in the art," he said, getting right to the point, "But I've had sessions with everyone else in the MMCC and I can't justify leaving you out anymore just because you technically don't need the help."

Tohsaka raised an eyebrow.

"I sense a 'but' coming on."

"You need to be more patient."

Patient? Was he nuts? She had spent years honing her skills. She was teaching Shirou Emiya, magecraft and tracking what felt like agonizingly slow progress. Why would he even think this?

"I know what you're thinking," he grunted, 'I'm as patient as anyone else here.' That may or may not be true, though I can say that you're probably more patient than I was at your age, but that isn't the kind of patience I'm referring to here.

"You've gotten very used to flashing off spells at the drop of a hat, and I've found that a lot of the mistakes you make are due to your attempts to rush things. You like being able to snap your fingers and produce a miracle, and that's no surprise; if I could do what you can, I'd probably be a completely different person. I wouldn't be zipping along making wondrous things happen all day, but I'd be different. Regardless of that however, I'm just not a powerful magus. And that's how I recognize that you're trying to perform certain rituals too quickly."

"I suddenly want to punch you in the jaw, except there's a part of me that says 'oh shit, he might have a point.' "

"Never mind that. I'm assigning you a task that I want you to perform every day. And it's so easy as to be considered trivial: For your own benefit," one corner of his mouth twitched upward ever so slightly, "I'll need you to meditate for an hour every day. Preferably the same hour each day so that I can send a golem in and make sure you're doing it."

"Really? Meditation? What's next? Breathing exercises? I'm pretty sure I'm long past such things."

"As am I. But I'd like you to revisit them. Learn to slow down so that you actually can when it's required of you."

Tohsaka ground her teeth together to keep from voicing immature complaints.

"I think you'll be pleased with the results. On the other hand, if it doesn't do you any good, you can consider that a free license to clock me, so either way, you have something to look forward to. We'll reconvene in two weeks to check your progress.

He stood up and went to inspect one of the nearby groups, giving each member of the team quick bits of advice.

"Ugh, why me…?" she grumbled.

* * * * *


Dear Rin,

I’m pretty sure that the Matous specialize in absorption, as well as in commanding familiars. I think.

I think grandfather plans on using me for something too, he sounds like he wants me close by. He said something about me being necessary as a vessel. What does that mean?

Your sister,

Sakura


The letter exploded into flames the moment she finished reading it.

“FUCK!” she howled. “Sonofabitch! GOD-FUCKING-DAMMIT!” she continued adding to her string of curses, throwing the burning page into the wastebasket. She kept screaming until the fire burned itself out.

“Tohsaka, what’s wrong?” Shirou stammered, scrambling over to the desk, but by the time he got there the page was already half-consumed, and nothing was legible. What his girlfriend was so distraught over was anyone’s guess.

“Shit! This is—I can’t—what am I supposed to—!” she was hyperventilating. She had to calm down. She couldn’t do anything to solve this problem if she was in a manic rage. But on the other hand, she couldn’t do anything to solve this problem period!

But she had to do something! She was her big sister! She had failed to protect her from so goddamn much for so many goddamn years, and now this was probably worse than anything that could possibly have happened to her before, and she couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it!

What the hell was wrong with her?!

She nearly jumped as she felt a familiar pair of arms wrap themselves around her.

“Tohsaka. It’ll be alright.”

“No, Emiya, it won’t be alright! Nothing about this is alright!” she squirmed, trying to break free of his arms, but he just tightened his grip.

“Let go of me!”

“Not until you calm down. You wouldn’t want me to just go along with you if you knew you weren’t in control of yourself, so I’m not letting go.”

“Shut up! Get off!”

She thrashed about violently in an attempt to escape his grasp but he wasn’t giving any quarter. If she were in a better frame of mind, she probably would have reinforced her arms and legs, but she just wasn’t thinking clearly right now.

“Tohsaka! Stop this—Tohsaka! Look, I don’t know what that letter said, but I know you. And I know you’re a genius. Whatever’s gone wrong, I know that you of all people can solve this problem.”

“But I can’t! There’s nothing I can do! Not from here!"

"Fine. Tomorrow I'll book us tickets back to Fuyuki."

"If I go back, certain people will take an interest—"

"Since when do you care about Clock Tower politics?"

"I don't. The people here aren't the ones I'm worried about. Remember Sakura mentioned her grandfather?"

"Of course I remember, but not from the letter. He was the chair of the PTA when we were at Homurahara."

"HOLY SHIT!"

"Get a goddamn grip!" Shirou huffed.

"Are you serious?! We had a fricking magus on the—forget us, how the hell did anyone survive that?"

Shirou didn't know, but he figured she wasn't looking for an answer. He was surprised that Rin seemed completely unaware of everything on the subject. Wouldn't she gave wanted to know more about the other Mage families in Fuyuki?

On the other hand, she evidently had avoided any contact with Sakura at every opportunity, and that could easily have resulted in her growing negligent in regards to researching the Matous.

"Anyway, the point is that Sakura already told me he was sketchy once, and now, he's apparently got plans for her and every possibility of what those could be is a fucking nightmare!

"He is the reason we can't go back right now. If you want to try, go ahead but I'll drag you back. You'll only put her in more danger by showing up out of the blue."

The thought aggravated him, but Shirou nodded. However, he was already feverishly trying to come up with ways of getting to Sakura without capturing unwanted attention. Rin, having come to expect such behavior, just gestured God him to stop. She looked like she was ready to go ballistic at the slightest provocation, but had at least stopped raging.

"I'll write her another letter for now. But if we do go back to Fuyuki, we'll need a better excuse than just checking in on Sakura."


Dear Sakura,

Necessary as a vessel?! Sakura, I don’t mean to alarm you, but that could mean a number of different things, none of them good. Best case scenario, it means he’s planning to use you as a container for magical energy, but doing that will destroy your psyche, leaving you a hollow shell. A worse scenario would be that he’s insinuating that he’s going to take over your body.

That said, the moment he lays a single finger on you is the moment that gruesome death becomes unavoidable for him! I will personally vaporize him if he even tries anything!

Now itching to kill the bastard,

Rin


She needed some air, and some time to think. And a lot of both. This was all getting far too overwhelming, and the apartment had grown positively stifling. She absently checked the thermostat before heading out into the hall. The A/C was on. She vaguely noticed a cool breeze and wiped the sweat beading on her brow away with her sleeve before putting her shoes on and throwing open the door.

She should have expected things to take a sharp downturn. Shame on her for letting herself imagine that anything involving mages could be sorted out without someone suffering.

* * * * *
Lord El-Melloi II, once known as Waver Velvet stared witheringly at a sheet of paper on his desk, removing a cold compress from the side of his head. Rin Tohsaka had, unsurprisingly, demonstrated that his suggestion was indeed helping her but, also unsurprisingly, she had said otherwise, and as per their arrangement, punched him in the head. He supposed that he had given her too much leeway so he could only blame himself. At least there hadn’t been any swelling. The headache had since faded, but it had returned with a vengeance upon reading the letter that now lay before him.

“Gray, if you wouldn’t mind,” said Lord El-Melloi II, “could you bring me some of those papers and then cut this goddamn desk in half along with this letter our so-called benefactor just sent me?”

“You sound out of sorts,” said his assistant and favorite student, transforming Add into Grim Reaper just for good measure. “Are you sure? It’s a very nice desk.”

El-Melloi II sighed, a weak smile barely playing at his lips. “I suppose not. Mr. Escardos hasn’t touched it yet, at the very least. I’m sure he will some day however. Then cut it in half.”

“As you say, Master,” Gray agreed in good humor.

She walked around to his side of the desk and looked at the letter he was reading. If it had agitated him such that he asked her to use her scythe to destroy something it had to have been something terr—

It was a recipe for stuffed turkey breast served with hardboiled eggs and asparagus.

“I take it you don’t like eggs?” she asked.

“It’s encoded,” her master explained. “I’m sure you remember that I was in a Holy Grail War ritual when I was younger. My darling ‘sister’ has gotten wind of another one and is suggesting that I participate.”

“And knowing Miss Archisorte, the ‘suggestion’ is mandatory,” Gray followed.

“Exactly. For the glory of the family, of course. Honestly… planning to participate in one eventually, and then she goes and orders me to fight in one for her sake before I can even get around to it!” he added, proceeding to open the rest of his mail. “Jeez, you would think that with all these sealed envelopes, they wouldn’t just be advertisements—"

The door to the office flew open and Luvia strolled inside.

“Hello~!” she sang, her usual elitist grin shining on her face. “I was listening through the keyhole and heard the wonderful news.”

‘Wow…’ Waver thought, ‘she just came right out and said it.’ He almost admired the chutzpah.

Keyword: Almost.

“Gray, throw her out.”

Gray made to comply, raising the scythe broadside as not to accidentally kill the mage.

“My word, such disrespect. I merely wished to hear any intelligence you might have on any other participants.”

“I’ll give you one name: Harway. Now off with you,” he raised his arm and shooed the heir to the Edelfelt family as though she were a dog, then opened up another letter. This envelope, like the others, was sealed, but with a different wax stamp. One used not by the Clock Tower, but by the Church. He pulled the letter out—and then he very seriously contemplated whether or not spontaneous human combustion sans-magecraft was possible. He certainly wanted to burn the letter.

Luvia and Gray both looked at the letter from the other side of his desk. There, written in an unfamiliar hand, was an invitation, one far clearer than the first:


You are formally invited to participate in the Sixth Holy Grail War in Fuyuki. The winner is awarded a single miracle of their choosing and


A lighter flicked open and a few seconds later, nothing remained of the letter.

Two at once?! What kind of insanity was this?!

“Was that an invitation to a second Holy Grail War?” Luvia asked, positively beaming. “Oh my, how fascinating.”

Waver stood up, and pointed at the door.

“Miss Edelfelt. I’m going to ask you politely this time. Please leave immediately.”

“And my motivation to do so?”

“I won’t have you expelled! Now run along before you force me to take drastic action.”

“Well, I never!” though not at all willing, she did as her professor ordered.

He waited for her to turn ‘round a corner in the hall, and only then closed the door. He then stuffed the keyhole with tape.

He sighed miserably, but managed a weak smile. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to meet him prematurely. Better make the best of a bad situation.

“So, Gray, do you want to see what I saw when I was still an immature student mucking about with forces beyond my comprehension?”

Bright green eyes widened with rare enthusiasm.

“I can’t think of any reason why I wouldn’t. Lead on.”

“Oh, we won’t have to go anywhere. I can inscribe the circle right here. You can attend to your studies for now. This should be finished in no more than half-an-hour.”

It took a little more than a half-hour. Twice that long in fact. Gray didn’t bring it up, of course; her master may have lacked any talent as a magus, but he didn’t need, or deserve, to have it pointed out for him every time this fact asserted itself. However, he checked the clock when he finished constructing the array anyway. Her effort to spare his feelings came to nothing if the wince that momentarily twisted his features was anything to go by. She shrugged.

“Well, I apologize for keeping you waiting, but everything’s set. If you wouldn’t mind, you should probably stand back a fair bit.”

Gray nodded and walked behind his desk. Waver nodded his approval. Then, carefully as to not damage any of the lines, placed an old box in the center of the circle.

The catalyst. The scrap of cloth that he had stolen from his greasy, scum-of-the-earth predecessor. It was finally time.

He might not be using the power of the Grail that he was going to fight for, but it would work just as well. He didn’t specifically want to irritate miss Archisorte, but he couldn’t do this on anyone else’s terms, or in a way, he’d be failing before he began.

“Okay… Now then…”

He took a deep breath.


“Close the four gates.

Come forth from the crown,

And follow the forked path that leads to the kingdom.

Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill.

Repeat five times,

But when each is filled, destroy it.

Set.

Heed my words:

My will creates your body.

And your sword creates my destiny.

If you heed the Grail’s call,

And would obey my will and reason,

Then answer my summoning!

I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world.

That I shall destroy all evil in the world.

Seventh heaven, clad in the great words of power.

Come forth from the binding circle,

Thou guardian of the scales!”

The array, which had already begun to glow, bloomed into a shining circle. The light was almost blinding, and they could hear the air in the room as it was violently displaced as much as they could feel it. Lightning arced between the lines on the circle, and then erupted from the floor of the messy office. The entire room shook and for a moment, Gray ducked behind the desk, but quickly found she couldn’t help but watch further, peeking up over the desktop. Then, with another burst of light, a chariot pulled by two oxen slammed down on the floor, shooting even more lightning everywhere. Much to her relief, the surging energy died down shortly after that.

It was a wonder the cacophony hadn’t attracted more attention, but on the other hand, it sounded like an explosion, and those weren’t exactly uncommon, no matter which building in the Clock Tower you were in.

A large man with red hair and an impressive-looking beard stepped out of his chariot and looked around, appraising his surroundings.

“Well, hello there old friend.”

The man stared down at Lord El-Melloi II, his expression that of someone trying to recall an important memory.

“Hmm, do I know you?” asked Rider.

“You should, vaguely at least,” El-Melloi II frowned.

“Hmm,” he stroked his beard thoughtfully.

El-Melloi grimaced. He was really hoping that the King of Conquerors would at least have some recollection of their time together. It didn’t sit well with him that one of them could forget a relationship that had helped shape so much of the other’s life. In fact, it bordered on insulting. On the other hand, he didn’t exactly look the same as he used to, and Heroic Spirits generally didn’t remember events from past summonings, at least, not in the conventional sense. Was that it?

The room was suddenly filled with Iskandar’s bellowing laughter.

“Oh come now, Master Waver, you didn’t really think that I’d completely forgotten you?”

“Hmm, so you do recognize me.”

“Well, somewhat. It comes back easily enough.” he said.

Waver staggered as Rider gave him an amicable pat on the back. Or at least, amicable for Rider. It was still painful as hell. He silently reprimanded himself for forgetting how much those thumps hurt.

“And look at you, boy!” he continued, “I told you you’d put on a good few inches! Looks like you’ve gained some weight too. You don’t fall over as easily as you used to.” He barked with laughter.

“Yes, I did, but as you can tell, I’m getting old. You can’t exactly call me ‘boy,’ anymore.”

“Nonsense! You’re, what, in your mid-thirties, early-forties? I’m already over two-thousand!”

“Moo…” said the oxen supportively, flicking their tails from side to side.

Waver looked up at Rider, not very enthused. Was this guy serious? Actually, that was a dumb question; Iskandar had proven time and time again that he was earnest to a fault.

“When you put it that way, I can’t really argue, but I’d say that physically speaking, we’re about the same age. In fact I’m probably older than you.”

“Just because my physical body died at the age of thirty-two means nothing.”

Waver smirked. He knew where this was going, and he was fully prepared to interrupt.

“Because as long as your name continues to survive throughout history and as long as people admire you for your achievements, you’re immortal. I know your game.”

Iskandar looked at him with amusement. He might have grown up, but Waver was definitely the same boy, or rather the same man, as the one he served in the Fourth Holy Grail War.

He wouldn’t tell him that he didn’t actually remember a great deal of their time together. That was just too sad a thought for him to cling to. He wasn’t that kind of man. It was important to stay positive after all.

“So, what do you do here?”

“I teach, actually.”

“Is that so? Teach what?”

“Plenty of different subjects, from Mineralogy to Formalcraft, but I’m actually the department head of the Faculty of Modern Magecraft, and I also do investigations for the Mage Association. There’s also one-on-one student assistance, research, and of course, I do my best to work history into my curriculum. I have an entire unit on you actually.”

“That so?”

For a man who just told his friend he was teaching a course about him, he didn’t seem all that enthused.

“Yes. A short one, but there are a fair few important figures to look at, so I couldn’t get away with giving you the attention you probably deserve. It’s right after Cyrus the Great.”

“Now there was a great man!” that was more like it. “I’d like nothing more than to meet him if he’s ever summoned as a heroic spirit.”

“I can understand why. He’s the embodiment of your greatest ideals.”

“MooOOpph!” agreed the oxen. Were they agreeing? They were certainly nodding their heads…

“Indeed. Did you know that the damnable soldiers who I had assigned to watch his tomb—”

“—Desecrated it, yes. Prompt execution for them, I must say.”

Alexander frowned disdainfully.

“I can’t understand what drives men that they would feel the need to deface anything built in the honor of their superiors. I imagine they somehow thought I would appreciate it, but that was nonsense. Cyrus was a far greater man than I ever was. To dishonor him is as bad as dishonoring me. Perhaps even worse.

Gray cleared her throat and the corners of Waver’s mouth twitched upward for a moment.

“Oh, right. I should probably introduce you to a good friend of mine,” he said. “Rider, this is Gray. She’s a star pupil, and the most dependable assistant I’ve had since, well, you, to be perfectly honest.”

“Hello, erm, is it Al Sikander?”

“Hello, little one,” Rider greeted. “And yes, you may call me that as well.” He scratched his chin. “You look familiar in a way I find difficult to place.”

“I’ve been told that before,” she answered without hesitation.

“Gray, this is Alexander the Great. Yes, that one. He prefers Iskandar, but Rider is fine too, and actually preferable in public.”

She nodded.

Suddenly Waver swore he heard a tiger in the room with them.

“Err… sorry about that. I’d like to continue catching up, but, well, your school here wouldn’t happen to have one of those cafeteria things would it? I feel like I haven’t eaten anything in years.”

“I don’t think it provides for banquets on most days, but yes, we have food here. Come with me, I’ll take you there. Incidentally, you probably haven’t. Eaten, I mean.”

It really was good to see him again.

“Hey, what’s that big machine over there?” asked Rider as he followed Waver out the door of his office, pointing to what could be best described as a Tesla coil on wheels with colorful glowing orbs orbiting it’s central antenna. “The one that girl’s carrying?”

“Don’t wander off.”

* * * * *

Rin was returning to her shared apartment from her class on runic magic, which had begun shortly after her session with El-Melloi. Maybe it was the angle of the light, or maybe a particular color caught her attention, but regardless of how it happened, as she was walking down Slur Street, she noticed a bright glow coming from behind a covered window in the Clock Tower.

“Okay, who blew what up this time?” she muttered, turning away from her apartment and made her way all the way back up the road. She was halfway up to the room in question before she realized that if her estimate was correct, she was heading towards El-Melloi’s office.

“Sonofa—”

Rin picked up the pace, activating the reinforcement magecraft in her legs and jumping up the stairs six at a time. She put on a burst of speed at the landing and skidded to a halt in front of the door.

“Lord El-Melloi!… I mean Lord El-Melloi the Second, or whatever you want to be called! Are you alright?!” she shouted through the door. “Goddamn it, if someone’s gone and killed you, this is gonna be a lot of trouble for me.” She twisted the door handle and pulled to no effect. Pushing didn’t do any good either. She threw her weight against the door and may as well have charged into a solid cliff face. She continued pounding on it with her fist. “Shit! For the love of— Open this goddamn door already!”

Someone cleared their throat behind her.

“Good afternoon, Miss Tohsaka. I'm not sure what's come over you, but I assure you, there's no need for you to go splattering more of the fractured remains of your sanity all over the floor,” said Professor Charisma, true to his nickname.

“What’s up? We got a snack,” said the young woman next to him, saying it as a single statement.

True to her statement, she was carrying about five styrofoam takeout boxes in her arms. Cafeteria food. Wait, no, ten containers.

What the…?

Rin stared at the two of them in stupefaction.

“Right… That… Well, this has been incredibly anti-climactic, good day to both of you, thank you for wasting twenty minutes of my afternoon.”

She turned on her heel and walked back down the hall, until she remembered something and came to a full stop.

“Wait a second,” she commanded, stopping both master and apprentice in their tracks. “I know for a fact that you have a fully stocked mini-fridge in that office. Why on earth would you be getting magecrafted fast-food take-out?”

She suddenly got a horrible thought. It didn’t help that she was suddenly getting an unpleasantly familiar tingling sensation at the back of her skull. She turned back and walked back toward them, stopping a safe distance away.

“So, who’s your invisible friend?” she demanded, forcing herself to wear her signature evil grin. She couldn’t be sure of anything, so it was only a bluff. One-hundred-percent bluff, but…

“Hmm… this girl is a sharp one, isn’t she? Well, I suppose it’s no use hiding from you anymore.”

Wow! Right on the money! she smirked. Then she grimaced. And now I'm dead. I did not think this through.

Lord El-Melloi smacked his forehead.

“Goddammit, Rider! We could have had deniability if you had just kept your mouth shut!”

“Huh? But, what would the point of that be?” the voice asked.

Moments later, a large, burly man in red armor that matched the color of his beard materialized before them. El-Melloi looked was muttering like he was at his wit’s end. “What would the point be? What would the point be?!” his assistant gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder, and aside from that, he went completely ignored.

“Good to meet you, girl. I am Iskandar! The King of Conquerers!” Rider declared with his usual bluster.

“No you’re not,” Rin said without missing a beat.

“Erm, excuse me, what?”

“You’re not him.”

“Pardon me, but, yes, I am.”

“But you’re not.”

“I think I know who I am better than you do, little girl.”

He had seemed offended at first, but now was somewhere closer to disconcerted.

Tohsaka scoffed.

“If you were really Alexander the Great, you’d be two feet shorter, minimum. Who are you, really?”

“I told you the truth the first time,” Rider insisted, an unusually suspicious frown contorting his features.

“He’s the real thing. I was expecting a shorter person too when I first summoned him, but here we are,” Lord El-Melloi muttered. “and he’s still able to knock me over with a friendly pat on the back.”

“Supposing for a moment you are Alexander, why should that make me feel any better? After all, it probably means you’re going to kill me.”

The professor glared at her. “Miss Tohsaka… exactly what kind of scumbag do you take me for that you believe I would really attack any of my own students? Really? Who do you think I am? My predecessor?”

“Wait, what? He did that?”

“Yes, among other things. To be sure, as a magus he was objectively better than me, but there is no questioning the fact that he was a complete louse.”

“There’s something to be said of the fact that you still outlived him in a war that generally leaves no survivors,” Rider noted.

“Yes, and now his family owns me, meaning that whenever that demon girl tells me to jump, I have to ask ‘how high?’ ”

“You refer to Lady Archisorte?” Rin assumed, “Yeah, she kind of rubs me the wrong way too. Something about her eyes.”

“You noticed them too?” asked the other girl.

“Yeah. Whenever I see her, she watches me in a weird way. Not so much like she’s examining me for a weakness she can exploit, though I’m sure she’s doing that too, but mostly like she’s expecting me to kill her. That liquid mercury maid of hers is pretty creepy too. Reminds me of a movie I saw once.”

“I didn’t get that impression actually,” said the girl. She abruptly grabbed at her right hand and an extremely stern look flowed across her features. One that Rin was sure she was very familiar with, but… somehow it still looked out of place. And Rin definitely didn’t know anyone with silver hair either. At least, no one her own age.

“I’m sorry, but what’s your name again?”

“Gray.”

“Um, okay, Gray what?”

“Just Gray.”

Rin continued staring at the girl in the hoodie, her face going through multiple expressions until she settled for perplexed.

“You don’t have a last name?”

“I’m sorry, but I do not. I apologize if you're confused.”

“No, it’s fine, I just… I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before,” said Rin uncertainly.

“Pardon me, but I am in fact Iskandar, we haven’t settled that yet, and I find it most peculiar that you've started ignoring me.”

“We also haven’t settled the fact that someone’s hosting another goddamn Grail War. If it’s happening here, I’m getting out now. Where’s it happening?”

“I…really feel like I shouldn’t tell you,” El-Melloi cringed.

“Okay, what are you hiding? And don’t play games, I will resort to violence if you don’t give me a straight answer.”

The thought that El-Melloi had a Heroic Spirit with him who could probably take a hundred of her gandr and come out no worse for wear crossed her mind for a moment. Then it didn’t. She held her ground.

“Little girl, you do realize that I—” Rider started but was silenced by a hand from the professor.

“Don’t care.”

“You’re making a mistake,” El-Melloi warned.

“Losing patience,” she raised her arm, narrowing her eyes.

“You don’t want to hear this, Miss Tohsaka.”

“Anfang!”

“Fine!"

Neither location would make her particularly happy, and while the one here would aggravate her less, he didn't really feel right about hiding the other from her. So he bit the bullet and readied himself to duck behind Rider if she had a volatile reaction.

“I’ve been tasked by my darling step-sister to participate,” he heaved out an exhausted sigh, “In the Sixth Holy Grail War in Fuyuki.”

A finn shot exploded against Rider’s armor where it would have just barely missed the side of El-Melloi’s head.

“Try again,” she snarled, “and this time leave your sick jokes at the door. My sister still lives there and she's dealing with enough shit already without having to get through a fucking Grail War, so don’t even suggest—”

The professor backed up against the wall and let himself slide down to the floor. He looked like he had aged fifteen years in the last few seconds.

“You have no idea how much I wish I were making a bad joke. I was expecting to have much longer to prepare for this.

"Moreover, I have no idea how the Grail managed to recharge so quickly. I've done my research; it should have taken another fifty-five years before it could function again. I haven't even had a chance to look into why it was able to reactivate itself five years ago."

"Oh god, you're serious," Tohsaka was starting to look very ill.

"Girl, are you feeling alright? You seem—"

Rider never had the chance to finish. Tohsaka had already sprinted off in the other direction, running back to her apartment like her life depended on it.

“Will she be alright?” Gray asked.

“As she said, her sister lives in Fuyuki, as did she and her significant other. These Grail Wars aren’t exactly harmless.”

“I’m aware,” she said, looking up at her master.

He knew that look.

“But…?” he asked.

“You haven’t changed your mind about allowing me to accompany you into this battle, have you?”

“No. I haven’t.”

‘You would likely follow me anyway if I didn’t,’ was what he left unsaid.

“Then I can only look forward to this.”

Waver Velvet hid the sigh that threatened to escape him. Gray most certainly didn’t hold any illusions about the world, but nevertheless… he could only pray that whatever happened over the course of the coming conflict didn’t change her into a person neither of them would recognize.

* * * * *

Upon arriving in her apartment, Rin started scrambling about gathering up possessions and various objects, and tossing them onto her bed. Shirou repeatedly tried to get her attention but she couldn't spare him a thought even if she wanted to.

“Tohsaka, you have to—”

“Whatever it is, Shirou, it can wait. Start pa—”

“No it can’t,” he said. He sounded out of breath. In his hand he held a letter. She knew who it was from and what it would say the moment she saw it.

“Holy Grail War,” they said at the same time.

She finally saw the expression he was wearing. She recognized it. It was the one he had whenever he thought about the New City Fire, or saw a particularly red sunset.

If she'd just been paying attention she’d have realized he knew already.

"What did she say?"

Shirou handed her the letter.


Dear Rin,

I’m very sorry to bother you, as I’m sure your work at the Clock Tower is very important. I only wanted to let you know that strange things are happening in Fuyuki. There have been a string of disappearances over the past several days, and one person was actually found beheaded.

By the time you receive this, the killer will have been at large for several days already. I don’t actually consider this to be a dangerous situation, but I did feel you deserved to know. I know that it’s supposed to take sixty years before the Grail can manifest again, but I just have a nagging feeling that these incidents have something to do with the Holy Grail. More than a feeling actually.

Also I think that my grandfather may have summoned a Servant.

She’s some sort of vampire, and it looks like she was the ghost that was trying to kill Shinji for so long. I don’t think she’s behind the murders though. I feel like she would be the type to be showier, if her creepy fashion sense is anything to go by. Anyway, these disappearances remind me too much of what happened during the last War. Everything’s fine for now though, so don’t worry about anything.

Please give Senpai my best.

Your ████ sister,

Sakura

P.S. Actually, we may need just a little bit of help. Please come quick.


“I don’t even understand what's happening,” she snapped, throwing a number of personal effects into a suitcase, she still had plenty of clothes that fit her back in Fuyuki. “What Sakura said? She's right. It takes sixty years for the Fuyuki Grail to charge. There’s no way to make this situation work; no matter how you turn it, it doesn't make a picture. Shirou, am I panicking? If I am, I have to not…be panicking. Or whatever. I can't think straight! Don’t just clam up Shirou, say something!”

“…I'm sorry, I don't know what you want me to tell you.”

“Just remind me what I normally do in this type of situation!”

They both stopped. Taking a few deep breaths.

“Okay, this is a problem, but we've dealt with it before. We've won before, we can win again.”

“You’re right,” sighed Tohsaka. “We even have a teacher on our side. El-Melloi just summoned Alexander the Greatly Exaggerated.”

“It's three on four then. That's one more person on our side than last time. We can take them down, and smash the Grail to pieces. No surprise eighth Servant either, so there’s that too. And we should take Sakura into account too. She'll want to help out. That makes four of us against three individuals, and she'll—”

“The hell with that! I am not dragging her into this! Not after making so much progress!

You know perfectly well that she's already involved—"

"Then I'll get her uninvolved, or maybe we can get the damn Weasel to take her place!" she complained. Nevertheless, the thought made her feel better at least.

"Tohsaka…" Shirou fell silent, as Rin watched him intently. He didn't continue though.

Finally, she had enough. She was okay now, she didn't want to get worked up again so quickly.

"What?! What is it?! Just say something!"

The corners of Shirou's lips curled upwards. "I think that the best thing you can do is keep Sakura in the middle of all this, actually."

She had almost calmed down, but she completely fell apart the moment he said that. The fury roiled off her like steam from a boiling cauldron.

"Shirou, I love you, but if you make a joke like that again, I swear I'll turn you inside out."

"Just think for a second. She's shown a consistent lack of self-worth throughout her letters. If we keep her with us, she'll know that we trust her to help us. That you trust her, even though your only real interaction over the past decade-and-a-half was through these letters, and that you're willing to let her fight beside you."

That was nonsense. It was just Shirou not thinking— but what if…? What if Sakura could help? What if she wanted to help? Who was she, an absent, estranged sister to tell Sakura what she could and couldn't do? But…

"Shirou, I need a moment to think about this," she said.

"Well, you'll have all the time you need while you're packing. I'll book us plane tickets. We're leaving tomorrow morning on the first flight out of here."

* * * * *

It was a typical foggy London morning. The sun hadn't risen yet, and Rin didn't feel rested at all. But she had at least come to a decision. Shirou walked into their room carrying a box of sandwiches, and noticed that her eyes were open.

"Oh, you're up… I… guess you probably didn't sleep well either?"

"I've slept better under threat of imminent death. Now my sister's in trouble and I can't even think straight anymore."

"So, you still don't know what you want to do about Sakura?" Shirou surmised.

Rin yawned, and rolled out of bed, carrying the sheets with her as she slid down onto the floor. Rolling over one more time, onto her back, she stared up at Shirou as she lethargically kicked the blankets off.

"No. I've decided. I have a lot of doubts about this," she groaned, "but I'm going to let Sakura make her own choices. I don't have the right to do anything else. But after how much of a failure I was as a teenager and how much progress I've made in the past couple years, I am not letting some group of self-important, Akasha-seeking lunatics ruin this for me!"

Standing up, she trudged over to get dresser, removing a few articles of clothing and tossing them onto her bed. She pulled on her leggings and a red button down, then she went over to her vanity and opened up a drawer. Removing a fake bottom, she took out a startlingly familiar red hair tie.

"Wait a second," Shirou started, "isn't that—"

"One of a pair that I did my hair up in when I was little? Why, yes it is. Where do you think Sakura got hers from?"

"I… I'm starting to see how little I really know about the two of you."

"You know plenty about me. I just kept my connection to Sakura in particular a secret for a long time."

She didn't wear it, instead placing it in her handbag, and removing two more familiar ribbons from another drawer. Those she added to her ensemble.

"So, how do I look?" she asked.

He stared at her, appraising her like a jeweler would a gem.

"Like you did in high school but with longer hair, and sharper features. I always liked the style."

Rin rolled her eyes. Typical Shirou. But she had asked for his opinion. She couldn't really blame him for giving her an honest answer.

"We should probably get a move on," she yawned again. "I really hope I'll have time to take a nap while we wait at the airport.

"Should we tell El-Melloi?" asked Shirou. "Where we're going, I mean. He's your sponsor after all."

"You can tell him when we get there."

"Huh?"

"He should already be halfway to Fuyuki by now. He left earlier this morning."

"Wait, what? Why's he—?" Shirou started to ask, then thought better of it, grumbling, "Oh, right. I almost forgot he was a participant…"

"I don't even know if you can call him that. He didn't sound like he was in it to win, so much as to prove something to himself. It's not anything he said to me, it was just a feeling I got. From his Servant, actually. It's hard to explain."

Shirou checked the clock. "Crap, we really need to get moving. Explain later. If we aren't at the airport in the next forty minutes, we'll have to wait seven hours for the next plane."

"Seriously?! Okay, did you check to make sure all of our valuables are with us?"

"Twice. We're not leaving anything behind here for other mages to steal. Granted, I've seen your security system and it's just terrifying, but nevertheless…"

* * * * *


---Meanwhile, out in the hall…---


Damn it all…

If the time was any indication, that red devil was going to be on the same plane as her. She'd have to mask her presence somehow…

Luvia twirled a lock of hair around her finger in thought… wait… her hair. She could—no! No further! She was not taking her hair out of the ringlets she so painstakingly crafted. No way in hell!

Were those footsteps?! She ran down the hall and into the stairwell, carrying her suitcase so that the sound of her luggage rolling along behind her wouldn't give her away.

"How much time do we have?" she heard Tohsaka ask her dear butler.

"Just over half an hour. The taxi should already be here."

Ooh, not if she had anything to say about it… wait, no, too risky. She'd just have Auguste drive her to the airport. Oh, of course, Shero was a dear, but it was good to have someone on hand at all times.

She heard the elevator doors open and started down the stairs to the floor below. She'd catch the elevator as it made its way back up again.

On second thought…

She ran back up to the fourth floor.

"Auguste! There's been a change of plan. I'll be booking a later flight."

Her butler was at her side in moments.

"Of course, madam. If you don't mind me asking, is there something the matter?"

"Not in the least, but thank you for your concern. I simply thought of something that in my humble opinion is incredibly clever.

"Before you book me another flight, could you fetch me some gems from the vault?"

"Right away, Miss Luvia."

"Thank you, Auguste. This won't take very long. You'll find me in the other, other usual spot."

She opened her suitcase and removed a small wooden case from inside. She had acquired its contents in the wreckage of another mage's workshop. It was in pieces, but it wasn't so badly damaged as to be unusable. Whoever had broken it was either careless, or in a great rush.

She brought it to her workshop and placed it on her desk, then took a piece of chalk and started drawing…

* * * * *

The flight took seven hours, by the end of which Rin was falling asleep from sheer exhaustion, but they were on a tight schedule. Sakura had asked her for help, and she was going to be there for her sister this time. No more pretending they didn't exist to the other.

Of course, they weren't expecting to find her in Shirou's living room. In retrospect, perhaps they should have.

That was how it started. Or maybe it started the moment the previous War ended. One man might have said that this story began with an unexplained fire that destroyed a swathe of New City in Fuyuki. His father would have said it began with the birth of a girl in a snowy castle in Germany to a one year old homunculus and a professional killer. Some would look back even further, to the night a desperate family summoned a monster and in so doing, permanently introduced a fatal flaw in the dream they had spent generations chasing, or the day that the heads of three families decided to build a Holy Grail capable of granting a single wish, as a single decrepit old worm might still have suggested.

But those who'd have said such things wouldn't be looking back far enough.

The truth was that it began on a hilltop, with a single girl. A girl who had her own dream. A simple desire to save her homeland that culminated in a battle that would completely destroy her.

With the conclusion of the Fifth Holy Grail War, she had finally left her demons behind.

Whether she could conquer them when they arose to stare her in the face… that was another matter entirely.

* * * * *

Closing Notes: These two stories took a very long time for me to write. Almost two years, the first of which was spent mostly stumbling around in the dark, without a proper knowledge of how things work in the Nasuverse. I still lack a great deal of understanding, but it's not the mess it was when I started. That fic was a travesty. This was… less so. I hope. Nevertheless, they're two incredibly long stories in which very little happens. In fact, it's all basically set-up for a potential HGW6 fic. But I think I need to do some original work for a while: I have an idea for a whole series of Supernatural/Dark Fantasy stories set in Victorian London, inspired in part by Castlevania. But back on topic: Literary sins:

Fiore and Hakuno were both out of character, even in my opinion.

In Fiore's case, it was due to never having had any content to go off of until very recently, but I do also have the excuse here of her not being with the Yggdmillenia. I imagine that spending any significant period of time around scum like Darnic would have a damaging effect on anyone's personality, to say nothing of Celenike, so sticking solely with her brother (presumably) would probably be good for her. On the other hand, I suppose I could also argue that she's also not acting quite as professionally. She didn't really need to, as she was there as a fellow Clock Tower student. Also, I wrote her with what I hope sounded like a British accent, which is definitely not going to be the case when it gets dubbed, and probably not accurate anyway.

In Hakuno's case, it's a bit more complicated, since he's something of a self-insert for the player, and as you may know if you read Mashu's Guide to Surviving Chaldea, I am the last person that I want in my fanfiction.

Back on topic, I've always felt that Hakuno was never assertive enough. At least in EXTRA. And definitely not in EXTELLA. He might have plenty of opinions, but without ever knowing what he says outside of a few bits and pieces, and the occasional response to a question, it's often hard to get a feel for his general behavior. And of course, he spends 100% of his time during the action sequences as an accessory to his Servants, in the most literal possible sense. I mostly just reused a few character traits from his personality in the Fox Tail Manga. So basically, Hakuno was the Straight Man in this fic.

He had very little talent as a wizard in the Moon Cell, but it's kind of shocking that a passive guy with so little talent or experience could be able to craft reams of mystic codes, as he apparently does in the games, so I decided that would be the only thing he could do: he could create mystic codes, but he had a supremely limited capacity to make use of this ability, needed materials on-hand, and wasn't able to choose his repertoire of creations, with them just coming to him randomly from bursts of inspiration.

[Rai Burnout]

Personally I loved your take on the "Letters" series. You should get someone to fact check though. I noticed a few things are wrong. Like one instance was when Rin was talking to Shirou about his training. You can't gain Magic Circuits by training. The circuits are spiritual organs. You can get better at using what you have and (might) be able to slightly increase quality with use but you can't increase the number.

On the subject of things I liked, introducing Chaldea is an interesting move as well as a direction to take this after the current arc is done. I did like the school life segments as well as Waver's teaching. I would criticize Iskandar remembering Waver but FGO seems to have chucked that canon to the side first so I can't complain.

On the whole, don't give up. I think this has promise and I don't think the forum has been that active in awhile. I read this the first day you updated but had to wait to post since I had college work and finals to work on.

[RoydGolden]

Like one instance was when Rin was talking to Shirou about his training. You can't gain Magic Circuits by training. The circuits are spiritual organs. You can get better at using what you have and (might) be able to slightly increase quality with use but you can't increase the number.

Maybe I'm misremembering something here, but I thought Shirou's training actually did create new Magic Circuits. It's just that's an incredibly dangerous and inefficient method that mainly produces low-quality Circuits, and he stops doing it once he learns how to open his existing Circuits properly. So he still shouldn't be doing it after Fate, but that doesn't mean it's impossible.

[Tobias]

No it didn’t. That was just a hair brained idea arai came up with once when he had been drinking

[RoydGolden]

No it didn’t. That was just a hair brained idea arai came up with once when he had been drinking

So there's nothing true about him supposedly converting his nerves into Magic Circuits?

[Tobias]

He can temporarily create a false mystic circuit. It doesn’t last.

if your curious the idea arai had was that it was really odd that archer was supposedly this self made magus who had nothing but what he built for himself...but also had more then your average mages worth of circuits. To explain this, he came up with the idea that perhaps when shirou was creating false circuits, maybe his successes were actually leaving the fake ones around but he didn’t know that.

the argument went that shirou’s success rate with his magical training was considerably less then 1%.

run that out of ten years, and plausibly the number of successes would be around 27 successful attempts.

...however this theory falls apart upon reflection because shirou’s shed is full of his magical artifacts. See whenever shirou failed at strengthening he would do a little projection to cool off. That he did on a nearly nightly basis. As a result, you can understand that while he may have only succeeded at strengthening a few dozen times, he created the false circuit thousands of times. If arai’s theory was correct he would have more circuits then ciel.

[RoydGolden]

He can temporarily create a false mystic circuit. It doesn’t last.

So, a temporary Circuit then. That's sort of what I'd assumed. Thanks for clearing it up.

[Draconic]

Personally I loved your take on the "Letters" series. You should get someone to fact check though. I noticed a few things are wrong. Like one instance was when Rin was talking to Shirou about his training. You can't gain Magic Circuits by training. The circuits are spiritual organs. You can get better at using what you have and (might) be able to slightly increase quality with use but you can't increase the number.

On the subject of things I liked, introducing Chaldea is an interesting move as well as a direction to take this after the current arc is done. I did like the school life segments as well as Waver's teaching. I would criticize Iskandar remembering Waver but FGO seems to have chucked that canon to the side first so I can't complain.

On the whole, don't give up. I think this has promise and I don't think the forum has been that active in awhile. I read this the first day you updated but had to wait to post since I had college work and finals to work on.

I am so thrilled to have gotten even a single positive response. I was going to ask if anyone wanted to actually see this continue on it's natural course, and you've bought my cooperation. The next chapter isn't even close to finished (these took me two years in total, and I've been writing largely out of order.)

As for Iskandar, he doesn't remember, but I used the thing about how memories from a previous incarnation could be accessed via the throne or some bullshit that allowed him to see the memories or something, just not truly experience them. He's basically lying to preserve the good mood, and now he's sort of 'reading' through the previous Iskandar's memories to get an impression of how he should slightly adjust his behavior in order for everything to be more fun. Was never going to bother revealing that in-story. too much work, because as you probably saw, there are two fucking Grails in this goddamn Grail War fic. I apologize to the veteran masses who want something other than Fate.

Maybe I'm misremembering something here, but I thought Shirou's training actually did create new Magic Circuits. It's just that's an incredibly dangerous and inefficient method that mainly produces low-quality Circuits, and he stops doing it once he learns how to open his existing Circuits properly. So he still shouldn't be doing it after Fate, but that doesn't mean it's impossible.

Unfortunately, it's all bullshit. Tobias has given you the facts. This was basically the one thing that was most certainly not canon that I didn't even try to fit in properly. So I J-J-Jammed it in... Like a pervert.

[[As of December 15^th 2017, I've changed that particular bit to be something that's slightly more on board with canon now.]]

Anyway, aside from my several clashes with the nasuverse canon, I have successfully partially patched things up between Sakura and Rin, to a partial extent. You know, nothing can truly be solved until someone freaks out. Expect to see our friendly neighborhood SEIBAH!! next chapter, if it ever happens.

If not, here's a preview anyway, clipped in such a way that I hope it's at least mildly tantalizing.
Next time, on Fate/Spiral as this Fic may come to be called if I actually ever get to the real story:

(scene)

"This is your first actual summoning ritual. You realize what you're doing is tantamount to suicide if you want to keep people from dying in this Grail War?"

Shirou took the sparkling dust and scattered it on the floor.

"It won't be. I can feel it. I can't explain it, but I know I'll get her. For a fact. I'm that sure it'll work."

"Hmph," she looked away hautily, "Watch it be some deranged loon. Caligula would serve you right."

Shirou rolled his eyes.

The dust began flowing through the grooves in the floors and the circle began to glow with an otherworldly light.

* * * * *

Even as she felt herself drifting away, something tugged her back. Sharply at first, but steadily losing its bite.

The clouds above her parted ever so slightly, and angel stairways descended, illuminating the carnage around her. It felt like…

"████"

It was a different voice. Someone other than the person crying out below her at the foot of the hill. This time, she couldn't hear it, but she could understand it. Someone was calling out to her. She reached up toward the sky with her waning strength.

A third time? Why? There was no point, was there? She didn't even have to answer the call.

For a moment, fear gripped her heart once again. It was a fraction of a second, but that fraction was all she needed to accept.

She supposed she would find her answers in due course. The world around her faded. She knew what to say. The words felt far too natural coming from her mouth.

"I ask you," she said as the world resolved around her again… "Are you worthy, to be—"

…And left her in some astonishingly familiar surroundings…

(scene)

Eighteen Hours Earlier...

A woman in a violet robe, eyes hidden beneath a deep hood, stood before Luvia.

“Hmm. I ask you now, girl; are you worthy of calling yourself my master?” the woman continued, smiling with the corner of her mouth.

Violet lipstick? Luvia noted, Who would ever wear such a thing?

“Why, yes I am.” she answered, “My, I’m glad to see you catch on quickly.”

She began to notice a chill in the room. It hadn’t been nearly this cold before she had performed the summoning rite. The woman frowned beneath her hood.

“It would have been ever so tiresome to have a Servant who needed to have things explained to him,” she said, gliding around behind Luvia to whisper over her shoulder, “Now wouldn’t it?”

With that as her only warning, a skeletal hand ripped its way out of the floor, followed by an arm. Luvia shrieked as skeletal creatures began pulling themselves out from beneath the floorboards with an unholy rattling noise. A thin fog began to condense around them as the temperature in the room began to drop. Though the woman’s hood hid her eyes completely, Luvia was overcome by the sensation of being carefully watched by a cunning predator.

“I assure you that you have no need to instruct me, little miss,” she continued to speak over Luvia’s shoulder. “And don’t be frightened of my dragon tooth warriors. They’ll never attack you as long as you possess your command seals, and as a magus, you’re skill is… adequate. At least for a child.”

How dare you!”

The woman’s lips twitched upwards ever so slightly, and the skeletons’ bones clicked together as they shuffled closer.

“How dare I? I wonder?” she drawled, “Perhaps if you were to pay more attention, you’d have sensed the difference in our abilities. In comparison to myself, your capacity as a mage barely warrants so much as a glance, much less any true attention.”

Luvia’s eyes narrowed, trembling with fury.

“That said, I will admit that I have you at an unfair advantage, being a heroic spirit, and one from the Age of Gods at that.”

Taking a deep breath, Luvia answered with as much dignity as she could manage.

“I take it that this means you belong to the Caster class.”

“Yes, indeed I am.”

As angry as she felt, Luvia knew that there were still a few formalities that needed to be taken care of.

“Very well, so you’re a Caster and have all the strengths and weaknesses associated with that class of Servant. What else should I know about you? Do you have any proficiencies or deficiencies that I should know about?”

Once again, the invisible eyes watching her began boring holes into her soul. Caster’s brief smile had vanished and her lips were now set in a neutral line.

“Perhaps we should get to know each other better before I start telling you what makes me tick.”

“Hmph. Have it your way then. My name is Luviagelita Edelfelt, heir to the Edelfelt family.”

“Mind your tone, little girl, lest I be forced to teach you a lesson in manners.”

Folding her arms across her chest, Caster took to drifting around the hotel room, keeping her eyes, locked on her master. She also dispelled her dragon tooth warriors, knowing that for the time being, she needed to conserve her mana. One by one, the skeletal monsters dissolved into black mist and vanished.

“I—You… Argh!” Luvia ran her hands through her glorious curls with obsessive fervor as the frustration she felt continued mounting. “I thought Servants were supposed to be obedient!”

“We are, dear. You just need to focus on the bigger picture here. I’ve no intention of insulting your pride. Even the difference in our skill levels has no reflection on your ability as a mage.

“I merely meant that as a spellcaster, I am beyond comparison,” once again, Caster let a smirk appear on her lips, holding it for a few moments before letting it drop.

“You’re that good, are you?”

“Yes I am, and I say that without exaggeration. Only a handful of sorcerers throughout history could ever hope to match my skill as a mage,” she paused, putting a hand to her lower lip in contemplation.

“And who might these powerful sorcerers be, Servant?”

“Oh my, do you honestly expect me to lower myself to the extent of listing a parade of equal or superior mages?”

"Humor me. I'll agree to a compromise; you need only name three."

Caster's face went through several expressions before settling on a sly grin.

"Very well, you ask for three superior mages, and you shall have them. Above all, King Solomon himself. Merlin for another. and Morgan Le Fey for a third. Are you satisfied?"

Luvia folded her arms across her chest and grimaced.

"Well played, Caster."

"You should have specified that I not name historical figures who would be considered the paragons of the art."

“At any rate, you seem to have no shortage of confidence in your abilities. But I’ve been burning with curiosity for more than long enough. Who are you, really?”

Caster’s expression, at least what Luvia could see of it, didn’t change, but her tone indicated that she was satisfied.

“I’ve been called many things, but aside from Caster, my favorite is the name I was born with. You may call me Medea.”

“Medea,” the smile that took over Luvia’s face was reserved, but she was quite obviously thrilled. “I can see where that confidence comes from. The witch who brought heroes to…their…knees.”

The temperature of the room plunged. Caster’s mouth was twisted into a scowl as she lunged across the room toward Luvia, stopping inches from her face. Her cloak billowed out to her sides like a pair of bat's wings.

“Little girl,” she said, her tone smoldering in contrast to the chill in the room. “Call me what you like, but if you value your continued existence, you will never refer to me as a witch, ever again. Do we understand one another?”

“Y-Yes! Yes! M-my deepest apologies!” Luvia gasped, shocked by the aura of sheer terror Caster had given off. “I promise, I’ll never call you…that… ever again, whether you’re present or not. Not for the rest of my life.”

The room’s temperature abruptly returned to normal, and Caster nodded, taking a slow breath to calm herself.

“That will do. That will do just fine,” she said, “My apologies, Master. I assure you that my temper isn’t lost easily. I happen to have an… unfortunate history with men who’ve called me a witch. You do seem to be a decent girl. Perhaps a little naïve, but who isn’t at your age?

“I’ll admit, you do remind me of another girl I once met. An enemy Master in a previous Holy Grail War. I found her to be an unbearable little tart. Perhaps my perspective is biased by my opposition toward her, but you seem to lack the qualities that made me dislike her so much.”

Luvia didn’t like admitting that she had anything in common with that lowborn upstart, but she was still curious, even if it was also incredibly unlikely.

“This girl you refer to,” she began, “Her name wouldn’t happen to have been Rin Tohsaka?”

Caster broke out in a grin, her shoulders trembling until she couldn’t contain her glee any longer and laughed. It was a diabolical laugh, but it did seem appropriate in the context of their conversation. For the first time, Luvia felt just the faintest bit of warmth in that invisible gaze.

The sorceress allowed her laughter to run its course and then glided into the easy chair in the corner of the room and with a flick of her hand toward the kitchenette, made the kettle fill itself and set itself down on the stove.

“Miss Luvia, was it? You seem to be quite the interesting young woman. I expect that we’re going to get along incredibly well.”

Luvia was beside herself. Not only had she summoned an incredibly powerful Servant, but the wit… er… sorceress even knew and disliked her sworn nemesis among her peers at the Clock Tower. Things couldn’t possibly get any better!

Hmm…”

“Are you sensing something, Caster?” she asked, checking on the tea.

“Nothing of great importance. Nor can I be certain,” Caster noted, “as my scrying crystal is still foggy. However, it appears as though that our mutual friend has just tripped over a stray cat.”

Luvia grinned like a bottle imp.

Life was just so wonderful.

(scene)

Sakura looked at the circle on the floor in front of her.

Shinji, holding his laptop in one hand and typing something using the other stepped in behind her.

"Are you pining for him in here aga—Oh no!"

Oh. So he noticed. Darn.

"No, don't do it. Don't do it, moron! You heard Tohsaka; if something happens to you, I'm a dead man. This definitely qualifies as something happening to you!" he snapped.

"I know. But, this is a Holy Grail War," Sakura protested. "We're in danger no matter what. This will only make things safer."

"If you go through with this, I swear to god, I will punch you, screw what that bitch said!"

"But I—"

"Think about it, Sakura, doing this just puts a big red target on your back. You can still avoid that. You know that if you summon something here, you might as well start wearing a giant sign saying 'tear my lungs out.' Avoiding Grandfather's Servant will become the least of your worries. You'll be in danger constantly.

"But you can avoid all of that," he hissed. "All you have to do, is walk. away. Right now."

Sakura giggled. Not her dangerous, unstable giggle either. It was genuine laughter. Shinji's 'stressed' face tagged out and was replaced by his 'damn that Tohsaka' face. He never thought that Sakura would be able to embarrass him.

"What's so funny?" he growled, "And think carefully about your answer."

"You're like the devil, Shinji, don't you think?" she smiled, "Maybe more like the little one who stands on a person's shoulder opposite a little angel?"

Shinji moved on to his 'I hate my life' face. He'd keep it on for a while. It'd probably be useful in both the short and long term.

"I don't even need to guess who the angel standing on your other shoulder is," he grumbled. "Wait, don't—"

"It's Senpai."

"—say it…" he groaned. Too late.

"Look, I will seriously punch you if you go ahead with this!"

It seemed as though that was the wrong thing to say. In fact, it seemed to solidify her resolve.

"No. I have to—" she twitched. "—to do this."

She stood up straight. Almost proud even.

"I'm going to help my sister!" she declared.

She…really believed in what she was doing. That it was the right thing. Well, maybe if she hated herself a little less, she'd at least be a little less irritating.

She moved to bite down on her hand. She didn't have a catalyst, so her own blood would have to do, but she stopped before her hand was half-way to her mouth. She twitched again.

Wait.

Those weren't twitches. Those were spasms!

Shinji went pale enough to earn the jealousy of a ghost.

"Oh, shit."

Sakura retched, then her legs gave out. She supposed it was that 'other' time of the month as she slid to her knees in front of the circle. Another retch, and she vomited up altogether too many crest worms. At least they were dead and not squirming around. It was still pretty horror-movieish.

(scene)

I deny any accusations that giving Luvia Caster is either contrived or a spoiler, there are plenty more Servants coming along... I'll keep you guessing about the rest.

[Draconic]

At long last, after seven scrapped drafts, multiple crises of confidence, four binged TV series, and two evicted raccoons, it's finally ready.

Chapter 1 of Fate/Spiral
Coming this Christmas

And happy second day of Chanukah to those of you who are also currently celebrating.

[Levnekov]

Oh my God

Between this and Eresh for FGO I can't tell which one's a better early Christmas present.