It was late by the time Shirou collapsed on his futon, tired from working with the Gordius Wheel. As he lay there, he stared blankly up at the ceiling, registering that the ticking which the clock in his room seemed to make more noise than it actually did. Though his body was tired from the work, and his Circuits well-exercised from using the od in his body, his mind was still too preoccupied to allow sleep's sweet embrace to take him yet.
"Senpai... If it makes you feel better... I want you to know that, in my eyes, at least... you're a wonderful, amazing person."
The way her gentle voice seemed to give him calm when he was discouraged.
"You always give everything you do your all, and never give up when you set your mind to something."
The way her soft lips seemed to make him feel uncommonly happy as she commended his everyday nature.
"You're kind, you're accepting--and you're incredibly strong. I wish... I really do wish I was more like you."
The way her small hands had felt so soft when she gently held his own.
Shirou rolled over in his futon, groaning. "...The hell is wrong with me...?" He muttered. "Having all these weird thoughts... noticing all these little things in her I didn't really see before... Just what is Sakura to me?"
Before he could reflect further, however, Shirou's sore muscles and drained reserves of energy finally managed to overtake his swirling thoughts, and the boy finally closed his eyes, falling sleep.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Waver groaned from the ache of another long night, gyrating his arms to alleviate the stiffness in his shoulder while he sat on the roof of the Makenzies' house, a cigar in his mouth. Since Martha didn't allow smoking inside, he'd usually have to take his cigars to the spot Glen showed him all those years ago.
Over the past few days they spent at the Mackenzies', Rin and Waver were absorbed in their furthered investigation of Caster's movements. They had managed to track her to Ryuudou Temple, where Caster had hijacked a key leyline and therefore given her a critical strategic advantage. He'd concluded, alongside Rin, that the cases of people collapsing across town were all Caster's doing.
At first, Waver put it off as a way Caster was obtaining additional prana, but some wheel in his head was beginning to turn as he started to see some sort of pattern in the cases of people collapsing--specifically, the locations where the incidents were occurring. If his memory hadn't gone bollocks on him, Caster's signature was reading on several key leylines throughout the city. For some reason, the more he observed them on his Crimson Web, the more he got the feeling they were not isolated incidents. Caster was up to something.
He just didn't know what. At least not yet.
His train of thought was sidetracked when he heard a familiar whoosh of air coming up beside him. "Ah, 'bout time you guys got back," Waver exhaled a smoke-addled breath.
Indeed, descending from higher up in the air came Iskandar, with Rin in his lap as both were mounted atop Bucephalus, the latter of whom not many people knew could fly--a singular oddity among Heroic Spirits, being Iskandar's personal steed, and all.
Iskandar was the first to dismount, careful not to smash the roof beneath his massive foot, then turned to help Rin down, who wasn't exactly looking like she enjoyed the ride.
"You look a little pale, Rin," Waver commented with a semi-concerned look. "Considering how many trips to London I've taken you on, I'd have never guess you'd be the type to get airsick."
"Riding an airplane and riding an over-sized horse--with a huge, sweaty, Greek man sitting right behind me--are on completely different ends of the spectrum..." Rin groaned, "On an airplane, you've got walls and a ceiling of metal to make sure you don't have the immediate fear of falling out, the ground isn't openly displayed beneath you, and wind isn't constantly blowing in your face." She sighed. "Seriously, how can a horse be so huge? Just riding that thing makes my thighs ache."
"You'll get used to it after a while," Waver gestured sympathetically to his student. "You should go ahead and get ready for bed, Rin. I'll stay out here a while longer, so change into your pajamas."
"O-of course I'm going to change into my pajamas for bed, you idiot!" Rin flustered as she crawled through the window into her and Waver's room then shut the curtains behind her. "Don't you dare look in here!"
After Rin turned on the light inside, Iskandar dematerialized his bronze armor and mantle, reverting to his casual cloths as he dismissed his charger, then sat beside his former Master. "Ahh," He sighed nostalgically. "Pass me a beer. The moon is gorgeous tonight, isn't it, lad?"
Waver scoffed, a small smile forming on his lips as he passed a cold one from the six-pack beside him. "You shouldn't drink so much, you know. Not exactly healthy for your system."
"Bah, you worry to much," Rider grinned. "I'm as healthy as an ox--this stuff couldn't bring me down!"
Waver sighed. "True, that. Any doctor of today would've considered your liver to be utterly ridiculous. Hell, your whole set of organs would probably all become the marvels of the medical world."
Rider laughed his great, booming cackle at that. "I'm overjoyed that they'd hold my body in such high regard!"
"Any luck out there?"
"Not much. We circled over Caster's lair for a while, but neither I nor the lass could flush out her nor her Master."
"Wait a second, where's Archer?" Waver blinked.
"Who, Porcupine-Head?" Iskandar asked in turn. "Oh, he's going about town, keeping look-out around the city for anything suspicious--or something like that. I tell you, those lone wolf types are real sticks in the mud to hang around. That guy really needs to settle down and find himself a woman."
"Says the guy who's been fooling around for the last ten years, 'sampling the local goods,' so to speak."
Rider laughed at that. "Touche, my friend, touche."
"...Good grief, that is horribly convoluted." Waver pinched the bridge of his nose. "What kind of woman would it take to keep you occupied, anyway?" He took another can of beer, cracking it open as he took a sip.
Iskandar scratched the back of his head, a grin on his face. "Well, I do confess that Saber may be a good candidate to be my queen."
Waver violently spat his drink out. "What?!"
"What? Is your hearing bad or something? I said I wanted Saber for a bride."
"Tha--that's..." Waver was flabbergasted. "Your technically in your mid-thirties, if not your mid-forties--give or take the ten years since I've summoned you--and she's, what, FOURTEEN? Not to mention she's Shirou's own Servant, or the fact that you and her are fundamentally incompatible!"
"Bah, trifling matters, those. Saber is doubtlessly older than she lets on. And besides, nothing is impossible to he who tries! I shall win her heart without a doubt!"
"It's incredibly vain to quote yourself, you know." Waver said derisively.
"Ah, enough about that, though," Rider ignored him. "How's Shirou doing?"
"Can't really say--Theodore hasn't come back from the house, yet. I'm actually a little worried, to be honest--"
"KYAAAAAAA!!!" Rin screamed in the room behind them, causing Waver to instinctively jolt for the, pulling back the curtain fabric. "Rin, what's wrong--?!"
Rin was panicking around the room, a clearly distressed look on her face as something was poking up out of the backside of her shirt. Though Rin's flailing left it hard for him to actually see it, he could guess from the jet black, fuzzy head which protruded out from the back of her collar, smothered in her long raven hair, was a slender, small ferret.
And the chattering noise it made while Rin ran in a circle only confirmed it. "Theodore!" Waver barked, "What did I tell you about sleeping inside other people's clothing?!"
"GetitoffgetitoffGETITOFF!!" Rin screamed, "Get this filthy rodent off me! He's gonna ruin my hair!"
"Well, if you'd hold still, maybe I could," Waver remarked as he climbed in through the window, then reached out his hands to grab the little furball. Theodore responded by ducking his head back down.
Rin screamed again. "Eeek!! He-he's i-i-i-inside!!!"
"Dammit, Rin, just hold still a second!" Waver grunted, preparing to reach down Rin's shirt to grab his ferret familiar--
"Get your filthy hands off me, you pervert!" Rin blurted with a flushed red face, spinning around as she thrust her foot up between Waver's legs, prompting the magus' eyes to almost bulge out of their sockets and go cross as he crumpled to the ground, writhing as he grabbed his now-assaulted family jewels. Theodore, by now running laps around Rin's waist in her pajamas, forced laughs from the girl as his tiny claws skittered across her very ticklish navel, powerless to flush the little fuzzball out of her shirt. Eventually, Theodore found his way out of her collar, shooting out the window.
"Oooowwww...." Waver groaned as he struggled to get up, gingerly clutching his inner thighs. "Rin. you didn't have to do that..." He said in a barely audible wheeze, peering up at his pupil--
Only to be horrified as he saw her stand ominously over him, her eyes holding an almost yandere-esqe dullness to them. "Sensei..." She said menacingly as she raised her right hand to form a 'gun,' as a small ball of black light appeared at the tip of her index finger.
"Wait, Rin, calm down--!!" Waver barely had enough time to dive for the window before she began firing.
"Gandr, GandrGandrGandrGandrGandrGandrGandr!!!!"
Waver miraculously managed to avoid the bullet-fast little pellets which could make him go kablooey, tumbling out the window and onto the roof, and nearly falling off the side to the ground below, had Iskandar not hauled him back up in time. Waver hollered back inside to his student, "Are you trying to kill me, Rin?!"
"You can take that stupid familiar of yours and die, for all I care, you perverted freak!" Rin hollered back, seeming almost like a cat with a bad fur day.
"You vicious harpy!" Waver barked back like a dog, in turn. "Just wait 'till I get in there! I'll show you why I'm an archmagus!"
"Hmph! As if you could intimidate me, you third-rate old fart!"
"You take that back ya little sod! I'm not even thirty yet!"
"Well, your wrinkles sure say otherwise!" Rin spat her tongue out at her mentor.
"Okay, that's it! The minute I get in there, you're getting the paddle!!" Waver barked back again, flailing his arms in outrage as he was still being dangled from the collar by Rider, who, meanwhile, couldn't help but cackle as the two volleyed insults at each other.
--------------------------------------------
--BGM: Fate/Stay Night OST; Ever-Present Feeling--
The Emiya residence, five years previous
"Kiritsugu-san?" Shirou said aloud, noticing the older man dozing off. "Say, Kiritsugu-san? If you're gonna fall asleep, you should do it in your bed!"
"Hm?" Kiritsugu replied in his gentle but tired tone, seeming to wake back up, then sigh. "Nah, I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" Shirou asked, not convinced. "You've been acting pretty weird lately. I mean, you invite me over so much that it's kinda hard to not notice."
"Oh, so you think I'm weird, eh?" He chuckled in reply, looking up at the moon. "I've just been remembering things, lately. You remind me of when I was a kid."
"Remembering things? Like what?" Shirou blinked innocently.
"Well... when I was your age, I wanted to be a superhero."
"A superhero? You mean like Superman?"
"Oh, nothing that flashy. Just someone who could save everyone around him."
"That sounds pretty cool!" Shirou said with a smile, then frowned. "Wait, you said you wanted to be a hero? What, did you give up?"
"Yeah," Kiritsugu admitted with some melecholy, "It's regrettable, but being a hero is a part-time thing. When you get older, it becomes harder to call yourself one." He chuckled sadly. "I should have realized that sooner."
"Hmm..." Shirou muttered, looking up at the moon. "I don't think that's really true. I mean, I think you and Dad are heroes, and you're both grown-ups. I know you and him don't get along all the time, but it's what I believe."
"I don't think you should see me as a hero. I did a lot of things a hero shouldn't do."
"But you did save me, right? My dad may have rescued me from the fire, but he told me you're the one who saved my life. So, in my book at least, you're a hero to me."
Kiritsugu simply looked at the boy, smiling. "Thank you, Shirou-kun. I'm glad that you think that way. But wouldn't that be kind of selfish, to have a biased opinion of what a hero is?"
"Well, my dad says a hero can mean a lot of things," Shirou shrugged. "Batman's as much a hero as Superman is, so heroes can be different from one another, right?"
"Well, sadly, I don't have superpowers or a utility belt which can get me out of any situation," Kiritsugu laughed. "So it's a little harder for me to be a hero than they make it seem."
"Well, sure, a hero can't solve every problem on his own," Shirou admitted. "That's why he has friends, right? To do what he can't do."
"And I assume your father told you this?" Kiritsugu asked bemusedly.
"Yeah, he did. He told me that he couldn't have gotten as far as he did in life by himself. He also said that every true hero inspires others to rise above themselves, and be heroes themselves. That way, there's more than one hero, right?"
"Hm." Kiritsugu nodded, "True, there is some merit in that. The more people who are on your side, the more bases you have covered... But you'd have to be charming to attract people to fight for a cause like that--charm I don't have, I'm afraid."
"Didn't you have someone who believed in you, Kiritsugu-san? Someone you called an ally?"
Kiritsugu seemed genuinely surprised by his words, then closed his eyes. "...Yeah, I did. I had people who believed in me; sadly, I ended up abandoning them at the last minute. Your father was right, though--I'd never have come as far as I did without their help. But I can't call myself a hero now. I'm just... too tired."
"I see..." Shirou said in a dissappointed tone. "Well, that's too bad."
"Indeed, it is." Kiritsugu looked back up at the moon, taking a deep breath. "Ahh. It really is a beautiful moon tonight."
"Hmm... well, I'm not sure how good I'd be as a hero, but I'll be sure to find one!" Shirou said with gusto.
"Huh?" Kiritsugu looked at Shirou again, wondering what he meant.
"You may be too tired to be a hero now, but I promise to find a true hero and bring him to you! That way, you know you weren't wrong and can rest easy, right? So you just leave it to me, Kiritsugu-san! I'll make sure to pass on your dream to someone else, 'kay?"
Kiritsugu simply looked at the smiling boy, before a genuine smile of his own broke out on his face. "You know, you sound like you'd make a better hero than me already."
"You think so?" Shirou blinked. "I think I'm a bit too selfish to be a hero."
"I know so. You're not the loner type." He closed his eyes once more, smiling. "But I am relieved. Now... I can be at peace."
"Huh? At peace?" Shirou wondered, confused. "Whatcha mean by that Kiritsugu-san?"
The man did not respond back, seeming to have fallen into a very long and deep sleep...
"Kiritsugu...san?"
--OFF--
---
Shirou woke up in the middle of the night, finding himself embarrassed as tears were silently streaming down his cheeks. He thought he had put the matter behind him, but every time he dreamed of those last, final moments of Emiya Kiritsugu's life, it always had the same sting to it--evoked the same amount of pain at every turn, no matter how many years past.
"It just keeps coming back..." He muttered as he dried his tears. He wouldn't be able to get back to sleep for at least an hour now. He figured maybe a bit of a work-out would knock him out cold; so he got out of bed and dressed, all the while trying to be careful not to wake up Saber, who was asleep in the other part of his room. He remembered that Rider was on watch that night, so he figured Saber was resting easy...
But the drool on her face as she muttered something about steak only confirmed it. He lamented that Saber could be really cute when she wasn't hiding behind that kingly persona.
After tip-toeing out of the room, Shirou went straight for the dojo, making sure to walk softly so he wouldn't wake anyone up. The dojo itself was largely empty, except for a locked chest on the far side from the entrance.
The box itself was large enough to fit a grown man inside, comprised of petrified cedar, and weighed more than a quarter of a ton. The padlock on the front was enchanted so that it would curse anyone trying to fiddle with it; the only ones who knew the combination--and had the key--to unlock it were himself, his uncle, and his father. Shirou quickly put the combination down, then pulled out a key from his back pocket, and sure enough, the lock snapped open. Shirou then pulled up the lid to view the contents of the box:
--BGM: Fable OST; Summer Fields--
Three magnificent swords.
--
Shirou swung Ascalon through the air, slashing at his imagined foe.
He darted Colada at an imaginary foe like an arrow as the boy thrust the short-sword, handling it as deftly as any great fencer.
Shamshir-e Zomorrodnegar's green-black blade was heavy against the air as he gripped it with both of his hands, hefting the huge, wide blade with a dexterity belying his size.
Putting the last sword down, Shirou grabbed a towel he'd left beside, wiping the sweat off his head, when he suddenly heard a small voice call out to him. "...Senpai...?" came Sakura's sleepy voice as her quiet footsteps patted across the wooden floor of the dojo. "What are you doing up so late...?"
"Ah, did I wake you?" Shirou said apologetically as he turned to face her. Sakura was wearing pink pajamas which were obviously hand-me-downs from Fujimura, judging from the way it tightly clung to her frame to Shirou's immense bother, causing him to fluster and dart his gaze away. "Sorry about that. Just... having trouble sleeping, so I thought maybe working up a good sweat would help, aaand..." He lowered his head in embarrassment. "I sound like a complete moron, don't I...?"
Sakura merely smiled at him reassuringly. "Not at all, senpai," she said softly. "It's good to see you working so hard at something your good at. If I had a complaint, it'd be that I'd want you to be careful. Training or no, a weapon is still a weapon."
"You know," Shirou eyed her suspiciously, "Some part of me is thinking that you're supportive of my training only because my cooking gets rusty because of it."
Sakura giggled. "Guilty as charged. If you don't concentrate on something with the utmost effort, senpai may just lose to me." She puffed her chest with pride.
"...Admittedly, I think you've already beaten me. My dad's a die-hard fan of your cooking, and Uncle Waver isn't the biggest lover of Japanese dishes, anyway," Shirou muttered fatalistically. "Just the other day, he straight-up told me I should just go ahead and forfeit the kitchen to you..." Shirou felt like going to the nearest corner and sulk.
"I'm happy to see Waver-san liking my cooking," Sakura said, looking at him sympathetically, "But you're still great at making food--it's just that Waver-san is picky, is all."
"It's totally not fair," Shirou grumbled. "Since you rock at making western meals, Uncle Waver automatically defaults to your cooking. It'd probably explain why he approves of you coming over all the time."
Sakura blushed immensely at that, recalling some offhand comment Waver made some time earlier.
'You two need to hurry up and get married--that way, you live here; consequentially, the percentage of food I get to eat that's yours rises exponentially, and I don't have to eat Japanese or Chinese dishes so much...'
Hoping to change the topic, she glanced behind Shirou, at the three blades. "That aside, senpai, those swords look really splendid. It must have cost Shoriusha-san quite a fortune to get them..."
"Oh, them?" Shirou replied, "Well, there's a bit of a story to that, if you're willing to listen."
Sakura smiled sweetly. "Alright. Senpai's stories are very nice to listen to. You get so animated when you recount something you enjoy."
Shirou flustered embarrassingly. "W-well, pardon me for being artistic! Anyway, it was around nine years ago. My dad had just gotten back from a business trip with Uncle Waver to London, lugging that huge thing on his shoulder." He jabbed his thumb towards the chest. "When he opened it, well..."
---
"Wow, Dad!" Shirou said with gusto as he looked starry-eyed at the three weapons. "Where'd you get these?" He tried reaching down to touch one, only for Martha to slap the back of his hand with a wooden spoon.
"Shirou-chan," Martha said in her motherly voice, "It may look really nice, but you mustn't touch it. You could cut yourself on such a thing."
"Aw, c'mon, Grandma, I'll be careful..." Shirou pouted as he rubbed his hand.
"You'd do well to listen to her, Shirou," His father said sagely. "As admirable a quality your enthusiasm is, you are simply too young to wield a real sword properly."
"Alright, Dad..." Shirou muttered, puffing his cheeks as he conceded that he had to contend with his toy sword for the time being. "Then why'd you even show me them...?"
"Well, I wanted you to hear a story, and stories aren't nearly as entertaining if you don't have something to demonstrate with. You see, I found these on a diving excursion during my most recent adventure. These very weapons, I will have you know, were wielded by my single greatest enemy."
"You're greatest enemy, Dad...?" Shirou said, already enchanted. The boy really had a love for his father's grandiose tales.
"Hmm," Rider nodded. "He and I clashed several times, and I will admit I have never once triumphed over him. In our final, glorious battle, I only survived because we were interrupted at the very last moment."
"Ah, your stories are always so interesting, Alex-san," Martha chuckled.
"They aren't just stories--it's truth!" The burly man defended himself.
"And he used these swords to fight you, Dad...?" Shirou said with awe as he looked down at the weapons.
"Well, not these weapons, specifically. My foe's greatest asset was that he had more weapons stored in his... erm... shiny-goldy thing... than any armory. And these aren't your run-of-the-mill swords, either; these blades are of finer quality than any other ever made before or after their times. It is these fine weapons that many heroes would later wield in their own legends!"
By now, Shirou was really excited at his dad's story. "So, do you know which heroes used these swords?!"
Iskandar grinned, pleased at his son's enthusiasm. "As a matter of fact, I do! Behold!" He reached down to take up the first weapon, a broadsword whose blade was almost ivory white, swinging it around with surprising deftness for a man his size. Though the blade was almost as big as Shirou was, in Iskandar's giant grip, it was little more than a short-sword which he could twirl around like a baton. "This fine sword was wielded by the famed Saint George, who used it to slay a most ferocious dragon which was so large, it could cover half of this city in it's wingspan. It is especially effective against those scaled wyrms, and possesses his devotion to defending the weak." He then put it down, picking up the next weapon--a large, black, two-handed scimitar which easily eclipsed Shirou in it's length. "In the lands of Arabia, a brave hero known as Amir Arsalan used this blade to slay a terrible demon--it was the only weapon capable of hurting it, as it counters the effects of magic. A wound inflicted by this weapon can only be healed by a singular potion, now all but lost to the peoples of today." He swung the enormous weapon through the air, causing a whooshing sound to resonate where it passed. Setting the scimitar down, he then picked up the last sword, which was the smallest of the three--so small, it seemed little more than a dagger in his hands. "And this weapon was wielded by the champion of Spain, El Cid Campeador himself! It is so incredibly sharp, a glancing blow can cut through the thickest armor like parchment! Any man unworthy of fighting the wielder of this sword is said to be struck with terror, and flee before the might of a worthy wielder!" He then put the short-sword back with the others on the ground, then placed both of his hands on his hips in a masculine manner as he laughed his booming cackle. "Thus are the legends of these swords!"
Shirou's eyes seemed to twinkle like stars, by now utterly enthralled and convinced his father was telling the truth as he ran up to him. "That's so cool, Dad! When I get bigger, can I use them?!"
"My, my, youth is such a wonderful thing..." Martha said with a chuckle.
"Of course, lad! You are my son and heir, after all," Iskandar beamed at Shirou, patting his head. "But to use them properly and safely, strength and age aren't quite enough. You must also train your body to become skilled with them. And that could takes years of training, exercise, and making sure you eat all the right foods."
Shirou nodded enthusiastically. "Sure! I'll make sure to eat all my meat, Dad!"
"Don't forget your vegetables either, Shirou-chan," Martha added softly. Shirou groaned at that.
---
"Aaand, that's about the gist of it," Shirou finished, as he sat cross-legged on the floor, Sakura sitting Japanese style adjacent to him. "It took years of training and exercise, but I eventually got the chance to use these guys about the same time I got out of junior high."
"Training, exercise, and eating plenty of vegetables," Sakura commented with a smile, as though echoing Martha's words.
Shirou grunted. "And eating lots and lots of vegetables, admittedly, but mostly the hellish training and body-building."
--OFF--
"And it certainly shows..." Sakura said faintly, looking down at Shirou's shirtless torso, her cheeks rosining as she gazed dreamily at his well-built, powerful physique. The faint aroma his body exuded was making her dizzy, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped in those powerful arms and to run her fingers across that chiseled chest...
A pulse.
Sakura bit down hard on her lower lip as she tried vainly to stifle a gasp, clutching at her chest as a deep, insatiable ache pulsated through her. Her eyes became cloudy, her cheeks flushed with a ferverish pink. Although she tried to bear it with a stoicism honed over years of torture and abuse, Shirou's keen eyes caught on in an instant.
"What the--Sakura, what's wrong?" He asked worriedly, only to be startled when she swayed like a leaf in the before him, then falling forward into his chest, breathing laboriously. As her forehead contacted his sweaty skin, he could tell she was running a fever. "Gezz, you're burning up! You must've caught a cold--it IS winter, I guess--but..."
"I...it's nothing..." Sakura breathed in little more than a whisper, "I'm fine..." Why, she thought to herself, why did have to happen now...? Why did this have to happen front of senpai...?!
"Like hell you are," Shirou retorted sharply. "Hold still for a second." He then cupped her cheeks in either of his hands, closing his eyes. "Trace, on."
"Eh--senpai, what are you--?" Sakura gasped, flustering deeply as she felt his calloused hands on her face. For a few moments, the boy answered in only silence, as she saw him in deep concentration.
Analysis was one of the few magecrafts Shirou was any good at. Waver had taught him the value of honing a skill which you tended towards; Analysis let Shirou understand in an instant the physical makeup of something, usually a tool, weapon, or machine. But he could use it for understanding the human body, as well--he'd analyzed his own body to train himself to reinforce precise muscle control so as to increase his ability whenever training with his father. He could also see a sort of metaphysical outline of a person's prana flowing through their body, though it required utmost focus to view so much as a hazy glimpse of it at any given point, and he also couldn't concentrate on anything else when he did. But it was enough to see how sorely depleted Sakura's Circuits were. Like any well-oiled machine, the body of a human needed a balance of inner energy to run properly. If said balance were put out of whack, performance would be downgraded, or even risk damaging the body. Though he did notice something about Sakura's Circuits was... off.
But he didn't have time to ponder on it. He couldn't keep his focus for very long when viewing another person's Circuits. Besides, he'd found the problem: Sakura needed prana. Opening his eyes, Shirou looked understandingly at the girl. "Having trouble keeping Rider up and bouncing, huh? Berserker did do quite a number on her. Woman must have been sucking up extra magical energy to accelerate her recovery," He grumbled. "Jeez, can't she at least be a little bit considerate of her Master?"
"Wha...?" Sakura breathed hazily, "N-no, senpai, this isn't Rider's fault... I..."
"Then, what, you've been fast-feeding her, or something?" Shirou shook his head. "That's too reckless, Sakura. You can't push yourself like this. Rider may have gotten badly hurt, but that doesn't mean you should overexert yourself because of it." He sighed. "Well, I'm gonna have to recharge you. Granted, it's an unorthodox method, but it should work. Can you trust me to take care of it? On second thought, actually, I expect you to trust me. I know it's tough, but grit though the pain, close your eyes, and let me take the wheel."
Despite the fever flaring through her body, Sakura felt like her heart just about shoot up to her throat, eyes widening as her blood rushing to her cheeks. Grit through the pain...? Sakura wondered wildly, Let him... take the wheel? No way... It's so sudden--! A rush of thoughts ran through Sakura's head as she began to jump to conclusions. "S-senpai..." She whimpered expectantly.
"Just leave it to me. It'll be over in a flash," He said with a smile.
--BGM: Final Fantasy Chronicles OST; Light and Darkness--
The words were too much. Shirou was saying things which quite simply caused Sakura's resistance to melt away as she resigned herself to him, the rigidity in her shoulders ceasing. Sakura closed her eyes, holding out her chest, waiting for him to do with her as he desired... until she felt him touch her forehead with his index finger, using his other hand to clasp her shoulder tenderly. His seemed to be muttering something under his breath--that was when she felt the joining. Shirou was connecting himself to her, both in a mental sense as well as physical. A moment passed before a strange feeling of euphoria enter her, slowly but surely replacing the feverish aching. If she had to describe it, it felt akin to being filled with warm honey or anointing oil. After around a minute of this process, Sakura felt her Circuits cool, the longing which had been coursing through her calmed as the boy loosed his grip on her.
Sakura slowly opened her eyes to find Shirou panting slightly. "Ugh," Shirou groaned, "I don't think I'll be training for a few days, now... That took everything out of me. Those Circuits of yours are something else, Sakura."
"Senpai, are you... alright?" Sakura asked hazily. Though she was worried for the boy's sake, whatever he had implanted inside her still numbed her senses.
"I'm okay-- just winded. I'm not used to dealing with so many Circuits like that... Well, my dad doesn't have Circuits to begin with, and Uncle Waver's are outright laughable in comparison; so it an entirely different situation altogether..." After he seemed to finally catch his breath, he continued, "Feeling better?"
Sakura could only nod slightly as she leaned into his grasp, her consciousness beginning to fade. "Senpai... what was that...?"
"A little trick I learned from one of my dad's old friends, my other teacher in magecraft." Shirou scratched his cheek nervously at the last part. "It's an ancient Middle-Eastern magic, though you wouldn't find it nowadays. For lack of better terms, I created a sort of 'bridge' between our bodies' respective Circuits, and used that connection to supplement you with a decently-sized portion of the residual od currently inside my body; any more than that, and I risk starving myself of it... Sakura?"
He looked down at her again, only to find the girl breathing evenly again, sleeping soundly. "Well, I guess it's to be expected," He sighed, "The spell has that sort of effects on minds not used to it's influence. She'll be sleeping like a rock now. Honestly..." He scoffed as he picked her up, as though chiding her. "Such a troublesome kouhai."
---
Rider was out on watch that evening, so Shirou wasn't surprised when he saw Sakura's room being empty when he stepped in. By now, Sakura was in his arms, her head leaning against his shoulder as she continued to sleep deeply. Gently placing her on the bed, he pulled the covers over her, careful not to wake her up. "There," He whispered, though he knew she probably didn't hear him. "That should do it. You should be back to normal by the time you wake up, so you can sleep easy." He absently parted a lock of the girl's hair from her face, gazing at her peaceful expression.
"Still, she really has grown..." The boy muttered to himself, "I'd be lying to myself if I said she hadn't become beautiful." Sakura's pale skin seemed almost like that of a porcelain doll, her violet hair fanned out on the pillow. As soft a hue of pink as her namesake, her lips were full, ripe, and luscious. She certainly wasn't the quiet little girl he'd met as a child--nor the surrogate little sister who had begun to smile at him around the time of Kiritsugu's death. Her words of encouragement from the previous evening, and how they had stoked the embers of happiness in him, echoed through his head. And then, the question which had be gnawing at the back of his mind over the past few days:
"Sakura... just what are you to me?" He wondered aloud, despite knowing she was fast asleep. For a moment, Shirou simply gazed at her, wanting to make sense of the confusion in him, but to no avail.
"Keeping vigil, are we?" Came a honeyed voice from the door, as Rider came in wearing her Servant attire. "Could it be the young prince has come to steal a kiss from his princess?" She grinned devilishly as Shirou's face turned red.
"Sh-shut up..." Shirou muttered, before looking at her critically. "Don't go poking fun where you've caused trouble."
"Oh? This is my fault, is it?" She feigned shock. "Could it be my womanly beauty set you off, only for you to go and vent it on poor Sakura? I'm appalled, carrot-top."
"Okay, now you're really warping it!" Shirou said in horror, then recomposed himself. "First of all, this whole thing started because you're sapping Sakura of magical energy too much, ya beer-swilling glutton."
"Really?" Rider shrugged, "I don't think I'm taking any more than Saber is of you."
"Well, why else would Sakura have depleted od in her body if not that? She collapsed in the dojo."
Rider's eyes lost their humor at his words, replaced with a mild sense of concern. "She collapsed, did she? Strange, I thought I'd..."
"Huh?" Shirou blinked. "What's wrong, Rider?"
"Oh, nothing. Just thinking to myself. So, she collapsed, did she? She seems fine enough now--blissful, in fact."
"Well, I did give her some of my own prana, so she's fine."
That statement took Rider by surprise, as she looked at him with a surprised raise of her eyebrows. "You... what? You mean, you two... Goodness, lad, you're bolder than I took you for."
"What the heck are you talking about--?" Shirou asked confusedly, before they both heard Sakura shift in her bed, breathing ever-so-softly in her sleep.
"Well, regardless, I think it well past your bedtime, lad. I need to head back to watch, and I wouldn't want you waking Sakura up, after committing such a strenuous effort to put her back to bed, would I?"
"...What do you even mean by that--oh, whatever, I'm going..." Shirou groaned.
"Don't worry, lad," Rider winked at him as he turned away. "I'm sure Sakura will be grateful in the morning."
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Shirou turned over in his sleep as the morning sunlight assailed his closed eyes. He felt terribly groggy, his limbs felt like lead, and his head hurt something fierce--though he knew he wasn't sick. He wasn't used to giving away so much prana like that. In his training, his uncle had proposed that Shirou give away any excess prana to his dad, to both condition him to be more efficient with prana consumption, as well as giving his dad a boost to his own reserves of magical energy. Giving prana to his father was simpler than when he had given Sakura his od last night; this was primarily due to his dad having no Circuits whatsoever, while Sakura had an enormous amount of high-quality Circuits.
--BGM: Fate/Stay Night OST; Into Sunlight--
Sitting up, he rubbed his aching head. "Uuugh..." He groaned, "I feel like utter crap... I think I really will have to lay off the training for a few days." He sniffed experimentally, and was treated to the bliss of some heavenly aroma wafting through the air. Yep--Sakura was definitely cooking breakfast. His nose was never wrong on that. As though in response, his stomach growled. "Alright, I get it--just lemme get dressed first..."
---
"Shirou, your face...?!" Saber looked worriedly at her Master as he entered the dining room.
"Looking like you got out the wrong side of the bed, carrot-top," Rider said nonchalantly as she sipped on a cold one.
"Eh, just went a little overboard during my training, is all," Shirou replied sleepily, scratching his head. "Judging from the enthralling smell in the air, I wager Sakura's in the kitchen?"
"Isn't it obvious, kid?" Rider replied, "Bollocks, what did you teach that girl? The smell alone is driving me nuts."
"Well, barring Tohsaka--and even then, I'm not really sure--Sakura is the best cook in the house. I'm good, too, but since I don't have as much room to dedicate myself to it, it's natural Sakura would get better at it than I am. Though I think I may at least still have her beat as far as hamburgers go."
Saber's ahoge twitched at the word. "Ham...burger? What exactly is that?"
"Well," Shirou replied evenly, "Their basically patties of beef which are grilled, then put between two halves of a bun; usually with cheese and a variety of other stuff you can put on it. It's usually best to have it not cooked all the way, so it retains it's juiciness..." Shirou was beginning to get nervous at the stare Saber was giving him.
"Oh, you've done it now, lad!" Rider said in a warning voice, grinning. "You best hurry along before she really starts fantasizing."
"Point taken," Shirou deadpanned as he quickly made his way towards the kitchen, leaving Saber trying to make flustered excuses while Rider teased her. "Sakura, I'm coming in."
Sakura was wearing Shirou's pink apron over her casual cloths, attentively overlooking what looked to be a marvelous meal in the making. "Ah, good morning, senpai," She said softly as she turned to face him, smiling. "I'll be finished with the preparations soon, so you can just relax until then."
"What on earth are you talking about?" Shirou argued, "I can at least help you with the last bits. Just because you're better than me at cooking doesn't mean I can't help."
"Well..." Sakura said with a demure smile, "Since I know just how stubborn sempai can be, I suppose I better let you at least help with the preparations, or you won't leave me alone."
"You make me sound like I'm a kid or something." Shirou grumbled.
"That aside..." Sakura looked at him in a mix of both worry and shyness. "After what you did last night... are you sure you're alright?"
"What, that?" Shirou blinked. "I'm fine, really. A little fatigued, yeah, but nothing to be really concerned about. Admittedly, I bit off more than I could chew, considering those wondrous Circuits you possess, but any individual will naturally regenerate the od in their body when it's depleted, right? So, ultimately, I'm fine. Despite what Saber's gluttony may imply, as well as her inability to go into spirit form, she's actually using her own reserves to compensate whenever I'm unable to provide enough magical energy for her. That's why she has to eat and sleep--to conserve her own supply of od." He then decided to change the topic as he opened the cabinets, searching for dishes. "On that note, are you sure you're okay, Sakura?"
Sakura flushed at him in reply, nodding. "Y...yes! It's thanks to you that I'm feeling better, senpai! I feel really energetic now..." Then her face became downcast as she looked back at the oven. "But, because of that... you won't be able to train for a while--ack!" She was cut off as she felt a twang of pain as Shirou flicked her forehead.
"Sakura, stop blaming yourself for something so silly, or I'll call you an idiot again," Shirou waved his finger at her. "It was my decision to help you; if you wanna blame someone, blame me. Besides, isn't it natural an for allies to help each other during war?"
"But, senpai...!" The girl protested, but stopped when she saw his expression change from a stubborn adamant to genuine hurt as he looked at her.
--OFF--
"...Sakura, did you really not want my help last night? Was me butting in like that only a bother to you?"
"O-of course not!" Sakura said with an unusual fervency. "Of course it wasn't a bother! That you would be so caring towards me makes me unbelievably happy, senpai--!" Her last statement seemed to have been blurted out, because Sakura's eyes widened when she realized what she'd said, looking at the ground as she bunched her hands in the apron.
"Oh? Really?" Shirou smiled at her words. "Well, in that case, I'm glad. If you're happy, Sakura, I know I did the right thing."
Sakura visually gasped at his words, her whole face turning the color of her namesake as she looked down bashfully. "Senpai... that's not fair..." She muttered under her breath.
"SHIROUUUU! SAKURA-CHAAAAAN! I'M HERE TO EAT!" Hollered an all-too-familiar voice from the front door.
"Oh, great," Shirou uttered, peering out the kitchen door and, sure enough, saw Fujimura Taiga shooting through the house until she came to the dining room. Shirou preemptively winced when he saw Taiga and Rider make eye contact--Taiga had yet to meet Sakura's Servant. "Three... two... one."
Faster than the human eye could follow, Taiga shot into the kitchen, grabbed Shirou by the collar, then began to violently shake him. "Shirou!!" She roared with her tiger-face, "What is the meaning of this?!"
---
"So, she's a relative of yours, Sakura?" Taiga sat at the table as she shoved her face full of food alongside Saber.
"Um, yes, Fujimura-sensei," Sakura replied nervously, sitting beside Shirou as they both faced Taiga. "Onee-chan and her side of the family live in England--She was facing some financial troubles there, so I decided to..."
"Take her in, hmmm?" Taiga finished the statement, still eying Rider, then swallowing her food. "Well, I may not like it, but Raida-san and Waver-san are the bosses around here. But you listen up, missy!" She brazenly pointed her finger at Rider. "I can tell you're the type who might try something sneaky on Shirou, so I'm keeping my eye on you!"
"What, the carrot-top over there?" Drake asked, shaking her head. "Naw, he's not the one I've got my eye on at the moment, so you can rest easy, Miss Tiger."
"Ah, that's a relief..." Fujimura sighed--then suddenly slammed her hands on the desk. "DON'T CALL ME TIGER!!!"
Sakura's Servant then smiled deviously, as though ignoring her entirely. "His pops, on the other hand..."
"WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!" Shirou wailed, beginning to bang his head into the wall.
-------------------------------------------------
After Taiga left when breakfast was done, Shirou opted to take a stroll through the market after breakfast. He'd written it off to the others as a way to go get ingredients for dinner--as well as to get his mind off of what Rider had said--and it was true that he was getting groceries...
But his motives for volunteering to go out weren't entirely selfless. What Shirou really wanted was time to think things through. Ever since he'd laid eyes on Sakura in the kitchen that morning, a strange thought had been scurrying about in his head--as if he hadn't had enough trouble regarding his relationship to her. Seeing her attentively oversee the kitchen as well as the house, wearing that pink apron, all the while having such a serene look on her face...
He knew she would make a wonderful wife some day. It was painfully obvious to him, even before his feelings for her began to change, that she'd make some guy a very happy husband. But that was the problem. Shirou didn't like the idea of some other man having the her as a bride one bit; heck, the thought of another guy getting too close to her was making him antsy of late. Sure, he was always protective of her before, but he could justify that reasoning as acting where Shinji had failed as a brother, or because she was a dear friend. But now, Shirou knew he'd be lying if he said his intentions were quite so pure and platonic.
Walking through the market street and meeting up with familiar faces, Shirou pondered further. If he continued looking at Sakura merely as a sister or a friend, he would--and should--by all rights be disgusted with such selfish thinking. But he couldn't just shut those feelings away, either; his father had taught him that keeping one's emotions bottled up would never help one in the long run. Instead, it'd be wise to simply understand those feelings, come to terms with them, and confront the individual who evoked those emotions in order to resolve them.
After an hour of getting the groceries he needed, Shirou decided it was time to head back, or else the girls would start worrying. Sadly, he hadn't come any closer to putting his finger on his predicament, and was preparing to bike back home when he heard another familar, though unexpected voice.
"Ah, Shirou-kun, what a coincidence seeing you here," Came a wizened old voice behind Shirou which he readily readily recognized, causing him to turn in surprise to see an elderly man in his late seventies, tugging a cart along with groceries.
"Glen-jiisan! You're here picking up groceries?"
"Mm-hm," Glen nodded with a warm smile, "I may be getting on in years, but I'm not as frail as you and Waver-kun might think, lad. Alex-san is at the house, so we decided to make extra portions for dinner."
Shirou sighed in an embarrassed manner. "I apologize if my dad's eating you outta house and home, grandpa. I sometimes still find it hard to believe someone so overbearing can be my pops..."
"Ah, not at all," Glen chuckled, "Alex-san is a very merry man--very fun to be around. And besides, you needn't worry about me, really. I'm frankly more concerned about you."
"Huh?" Shirou blinked. "Why's that?"
"You look troubled about something--by the looks of it, something important. It's written all over your face, I must admit."
Shirou blushed, scratching his nose. "Geez, is it really that obvious...?"
Glen smiled sympathetically. "I'm afraid so. Want to talk about it?"
"But what about your groceries? I'd hate for you to have to face Martha-baasan's bad side for being late."
Glen laughed. "True, she can be mighty frightening with that wooden spoon! But I'm alright. Come on, there's a place nearby where we can talk without much hassle."
"Wait, but--"
"Come now, I insist," Glen said with a challenging raise of his eyebrow.
Shirou pouted. "Alright, grandpa..."
-----------------------------------
Rin's brow furrowed in frustration as she tried to make sense of the sight before her. Her mentor and guardian, the man who was praised as one of the greatest Lords of the Clocktower, was sitting in his room wearing nothing but a wife-beater and boxers while playing some game she couldn't bother to remember the name of. Rider--or rather, as she corrected herself, Raida--was out buying more videogames, while Archer'd gone strangely off-radar since the night before, leaving the two of them alone as Rin became increasingly annoyed as she watched her mentor just sit on the ground idly playing his game.
It simultaneously infuriated as well as confused Rin to no end at how... modern her teacher was. His obsession with videogames was one thing, but he also had a very un-Magi-like appreciation for technology in general. Perhaps it was because he was originally from a lower-born family of Magi, but it was no excuse for him to have that attitude now. He was the head of one of the most influencial families in the Association, with access to nine generations of knowlege and power... And yet he cared for none of it, if not was outright disgruntled by it altogether.
It only enforced the contrast she had made between he and her father. Waver Velvet had been graced with his position by mere chance, while Tohsaka Tokiomi had worked himself to the bone to become the man she admired. Where Waver seemed to almost detest his position as a Lord yet took liberties with modern society, her father prided himself as a Magus, and despised technology. Waver was blunt and snarked constantly, while her father had always been mild-mannered and polite.
Rin knew that, by magi standards, Waver had every right to be called a disgrace. Yet he was so gifted when it came to teaching, that when he took her to London on their infrequent visits to the Clocktower, no one he knew seemed bothered by it. "Sensei, don't you think we have more important things to do? Like, say, figuring out Caster's next move?"
"We're in no hurry, Rin," Waver said offhandedly as he munched on a potato chip. "The samples we got will take until evening to settle properly, and there's nothing new that's shown up on the Crimson Web. Besides, some off-time will do us good."
"Off-time...?!" Rin gaped at him. "Sensei, we have no idea where or when Caster may strike next--not to mention the other Servants--and all you want to do just stay and waste away hours in front of a television playing some stupid videogame while people are at risk?"
"Please," Waver deadpanned, "As if any Servant or Master would actually be stupid enough to try something in broad daylight. Besides, kiddo, you've been pushing yourself too much lately. You need rest, or you'll start forming wrinkles on your face before you even--GUAGH!!" Waver was interrupted as he took a drop-kick to the back of the head, courtesy of a very angry-looking Rin.
"How dare you--!" Rin howled as she repeatedly kicked her mentor in the head. "I can take care of myself, thank you very much!"
"Says the girl who used to wet the bed at the age of nine--BWAGH!" Waver again received a kick to the face.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!!" Rin flustered deep red from outrage and embarrassment. After a few more kicks, Rin let her teacher drop to the floor. "I thought you agreed to never talk about that, geez..."
"Ugh, you're kicks are as hard as ever, I see," Waver groaned as he sat himself up. "You and Shirou really are alike, you know that?"
"Wha...?" Rin retorted harshly at her mentor. "How could me and that idiot have ANYTHING in common? He's stupid, short-sighted, has next to no sense of respect for authority or decency, and I'm beginning to think at one point in his childhood he was dropped on the head!"
"Well, that last one is a bit inaccurate--see, it wasn't so much that we dropped him, per se, it's more that His Majesty kinda... punched him really hard in the face one too many times."
"Punched him in the face...?" Rin looked oddly at him. "But I thought Shourisha-kun and his dad were..."
"What?" Waver blinked, "Oh, don't get the wrong idea, his Majesty isn't abusive towards Shirou." Waver then shook his head, as though recanting himself. "...Actually, by modern standards, it goes past abusive and straight into inadvertedly near killing him a couple of times--but that's only because Rider is one of those guys who doesn't hold back when it comes to training, and the occasional need to slap Shirou silly for being a moron."
Rin looked nervously at him. "Just what exactly did you guys put Shirou through as a kid? You mentioned training, but you said you only taught him projection and reinforcment... right?"
"That's correct, but there's more to it than that. Shirou's potential as far as magecraft goes is severely limited, due mostly to his Origin and Element both being strikingly specific, his talent as a magus being outright abysmal, as well as the mediocre quality of his Circuits. Granted, he does possess a surprising amount for someone starting at the first generation, but he's not on any accounts your equal in any of those areas. At the same time, however, it's precisely because of this narrow zone of competence that he's been able to focus so hard on it. Thanks to that, Shirou is actually more knowlegable and compotent in both reinforcement and analysis than you are, Rin."
Rin's eyebrows furrowed in apparent frustration. "W-well, he's still no match for me as far as being a magus is concerned!" She huffed with a hint of indignation mixed with smugness, "All it'd take is a Gandr, and he'd be toast!"
"See, that's where you're mistaken on two grounds, Rin," Waver sighed, "First of all, Shirou isn't even a magus. Technically, he's just a magecraft-user; he uses what little magic he can to enhance his own fighting ability. Speaking of which, you shouldn't be so quick to underestimate him. In a head-on fight, Shirou would likely pummel you."
Rin's eyes widened. "You're kidding, right...?" Rin asked, sounding almost nervous. "How could a person with no Crest possibly be able to...?"
"I'm quite serious," Waver said frankly, his forehead creased in annoyance. "And if you think with that kind of mindset, stop it right now. Bloodlines mean next to nothing on a battlefield."
Rin seemed to almost wince at her mentor's biting critisism. "Well, alright, but how could he beat me? I know offensive magecraft amoung so much else, so are you telling me he knows how to counterbalance that?"
"I'm getting to that, if you keep your gob shut long enough," Waver replied though grit teeth. "It is true you outmatch him as far as magecraft goes, but in an actual combat situation, Shirou would beat you by a large margin. For one thing, he's got much more upper body strength than you could ever hope to have--not to sound sexist, just a simple fact--and he's been much more trained in close-quarters fighting than you have. To add to this, what you consider reinforcement is little more than breathing for Shirou. And that's not even getting into what he's capable of whipping out with his projection magic."
"That would explain how he was able to survive two encounters with Lancer for as long as he did, I suppose..." Rin admitted. "But the level of physical training it'd take for him to get to that point... outside of Enforcers or Executioners, I've never heard of anything that rigorous."
"Well, considering he's been training with Rider for the past ten years, I would think it to be expected Shirou would reached the level he's at now. Against someone like Saber or Berserker, Shirou would naturally be acutely inferior; but as he is right now, he could very likely beat the likes of Caster and Assassin in a melee."
Rin's eyes widened in shock, her mouth agape. "Wha--?! But that's impossible! No matter how much a person trains, they simply can't match a Heroic Spirit!"
"Try telling that to his Highness," Waver shrugged. "He's the one who insisted on training Shirou himself in the first place. Both of you are my students, but Shirou's true place was with him."
"But Rider's has at least fourty times the strength of a human being! You let him try something so dangerous and reckless, and you didn't even bat an eye?"
--BGM: Fate/Zero Anime OST; Painful--
Waver's eyes narrowed in a way which unsettled Rin. "Okay, three things, missy: First, if there's one thing Shirou wanted more than anything as a child, it was to make his father proud, so he jumped at the chance to train under him. Secondly, I did protest. A lot. Shirou was hospitolized more than once due to injuries he sustained, and there were a few times where we thought he had every right to be permanantly crippled, if not knocking on death's door. But I also knew that Shirou's path was with a blade, not flinging around spells. Lastly, you're in no position nor have any right to criticize me or Rider for putting Shirou through such training. You've endangered yourself on enough occasions during your own studies of your family's magecraft. The only reason I allow either of you to push yourselves past your limits is because I know that the areas you devote yourselves under are where you truly shine. As a teacher, it's my duty to see you both further yourselves down paths which you excel at, no matter how risky it may be."
To that, Tohsaka had no reply as she looked down, an ashamed look on her face as she sat on the bed, unable to meet her mentor's gaze. Then, she meekly asked in a small voice, "Sensei, you... really care about Shourisha-kun, don't you?"
For a moment, Waver seemed confused at his pupil's expression, before he realized the reason why she seemed so sad when saying so. He sighed, shaking his head. "I do. But that doesn't mean I think any less of you, Rin."
Rin peered up at the man she aspired to defeat, a certain vulnurability in her eyes. It was one of the things she liked about Waver--she could afford to show weakness in front of him, because he never once condemned her for it. As much as her father had always told her to remain composed at all times, she was only human. Showing weakness in front of Kirei only seemed to humor him, while showing pain in front of Waver earned her at least some merit of comfort. "I guess I was kind of putting him down too much. I mean, he may be an idiot, but... he seems so genuine. Even back at school, he was like that. He never hid anything from his friends, never tried to wear a mask to hide who he really was. I have to admit I looked down on him at first because he lacked any sort of decorum or reservations, and yet at the same time... I can't really decribe it, but it's like he can make friends of almost anyone."
"It's not so much that he's honest with others; it's more that he's honest with himself," Waver replied. "Yes, he's a moron whom I suspect has lost more than one brain cell due to his training with Rider, but his honesty with himself lets him be sincere to others. He accepts anyone willing to put up with him, and because of this, he's made a great deal of loyal friends--many of whom have had their lives changed simply by being around him."
Rin recalled an image from school--a bunch of misfits who never quite fit in anywhere else at school, who all gathered around a certain fool; all of them laughing and simply having a good time, acting like the whole of the world was their backyard. How everyone else at school envied the happy-go-lucky attitude they had, and admired the odd yet undoubtedly kind boy who brought the whole ragtag team together through nothing but his own force of personality.
And she could not help but be envious of him. For though he was indeed a fool... he had something which Rin would have killed for.
The image of a boy happily riding on his father's shoulders.
"Rin?" Waver's deadpan voice came, ripping Tohsaka back into reality. "You've gone quiet again."
"It's nothing, sensei," Rin said with the sort of aloofness she might put in front of Sakura, "Nothing at all."
---------------------------
Ilyasviel von Einzbern was very, very bored. As she walked through the market after escaping her maids while Beserker slept--having wanted to sneak out of the castle for some time alone--she couldn't think of any way to entertain herself.
The War was supposed to be simple. Berserker would smash all the other Servants, and she'd finally get her revenge for Kiritsugu abandoning her. Shirou would become hers and hers alone, so she's have someone to play with. And the El-Melloi Lord, whom Grandfather had told her had helped Kiritsugu in betraying the Einzberns, would die a horrible, agonizing death for his role. With her Servant at her side, it all seemed so easy. Saber had proven dangerous at first, but she had let her guard down the moment she killed Heracles the first time, and she'd lost her ability to win the fight when Berserker regenerated and crushed her arm. Then Rider interfered, actually managing a second kill from a lucky shot. Ilya was quick to have Berserker smash her as well, before Archer and his Master showed up...
Followed by the black monster.
Ilya bunched her hands into her purple coat, angry at that mysterious Servant who'd humiliated her Berserker, wanting nothing more than for it to be crushed beneath Berserker's foot. All the other Servants were supposed to have already been summoned, with Shirou having summoned Saber last. But that mad warrior was definitly a Servant--so how could it be there, then? She couldn't even read the status on the Servant's capabilities, but it's feral state indicated it was a Berserker like Heracles.
And it was absurdly strong. It shrugged off Berserker's blows like they were just scratches, and could make anything it touched a Noble Phantasm--and through brute force alone, it claimed three of Berserker's lives; which added with Saber and Rider's attacks, meant they'd taken nearly half of Godhand's protection. That alone made her angry, but being forced to retreat only added to the indignation she felt. She wanted to find Shirou and take him to her castle so she could make him her Servant. She hoped he might come by, so she decided to try and find him.
However, as she made her way through the shopping area and passing a playground, she suddenly felt the presense of a Servant nearby, causing her to instinctivly duck behind the gate so as not to be seen. She couldn't be wrong--it was a Servant she was feeling, but... something seemed off about it. It felt similar to the black monster, but not nearly as menacing or ominous. Plus, Ilya knew the War wasn't supposed to be going on in daytime, much less in such a populated area. So she decided to try and investigate. Peering into the playground area from the gate, the girl narrowed her gaze to look--and was genuinely surprised by what she saw.
--BGM: Fate/Zero Anime OST; Little Drop of Peace--
A group of children, some seeming to be as young as she appeared, some even younger, were playing with a large, burly man, grabbing onto whatever part of his body they could, as though trying to make it too heavy for him to move. The children were struggling to topple the giant of a man, who just laughed and encouraged them to try as hard as they could.
"Come, now, little ones! You won't take down the great Shourisha Raida like that!" The red-haired man bellowed.
"We're gonna make you eat those words, jichan!" A young boy brazenly yelled as he latched on his leg.
"Today, for sure, we'll bring you down!" A girl growled as she yanked hard on his arm.
"Hahahaha!" The man laughed heartily, "That's the spirit! Come on now, come at me all at once! Perhaps a surprise attack shall topple me, hmm?! Pour your unwaivering spirits into the effort, and you shall triumph!"
Ilya could only looked on in surprise, unable to understand the scene. The huge man was undoubtedly the Servant she had felt... but she simply couldn't fathom why he was there. He seemed entirely oblivious of her presense, and sported the single most ridiculous-looking grin on his face as he seemed to truely enjoy playing with the children. Even her own instincts, honed over the horrible training her family had put her through, betrayed no sense of danger from him. Against her better judgement, she walked cautiously into the playground, approaching the group.
She almost flinched as the man noticed her. He cocked one of his big eyebrows at her with an intrigued look on his face, his red eyes holding a dazzling light in them. The shift of attention caused the children to stop, likewise turning their attention to her. "Hoo? I don't believe I recognize you, little one. Are you new to the area?"
Ilya looks at him with a guarded look, hesitant to respond. "No. I'm only visiting for a few weeks. ...What are you doing?"
"I believe it quite obvious, lass," The man replied with a confused blink. "I'm playing with the children."
"But why are you doing it?"
"Hmm, well..." He seemed to try to find the right words to say as he scratched his beard, even as a child hung from his forearm like some sort of chimp, before peering back down at the group of heads which hardly came up to his knees. "Well, children, could you explain the situation to her?"
"Jichan here is the king of the playground!" The roudy boy said with gusto. "We're gonna topple him so we can take his crown!"
"The king of the... playground?" Ilya was genuinely confused. "What do you mean?"
"Well, I've made a claim to the playground myself--even put my standard there, see?" The man said frankly, jabbing one of his sausage-like fingers towards the top of a nearby flagpole. There, a flag of royal colors hung to the side, though even without the wind flapping it, Ilya could see the standard. A golden sun with outstreached rays was emblazoned upon a field of regal blue, with a fiery red sword impaled through the star itself, a pair of similarly vibrant crimson wings cresting each side. "The locals here are usually out busy around these parts at this time of day, and I just so happen to be a reliable enough member of the community to warrent them entrusting their little ones while they take care of their business here."
"...Weirdo," Ilya said simply. "What kind of king rules a playground?"
"The kind who gets us all crepes!" A girl chimed in.
"Come now, lass, you couldn't have simply come here to gawk at us, have you?" The man asked with a bemused grin at Ilya, "Of course, I would not blame you if you did--who WOULDN'T be marvelled at my presense?" He cackled heartily.
A strange, familiar feeling began bubbling inside Ilya. She couldn't understand why, but the man seemed to exude the same feeling she had around Berserker; she felt like she could trust him completely, that she didn't have to throw up walls around him.
Like she was with her father and mother again.
"...Just who are you, greis?" She asked in German on the last word, an uneasy look on her face.
"Ah, German, is it?" He grinned. "Well, I must ask your pardon, engelchen." He replied the last bit in surprisingly fluent German. "My name is Alexander, as your would pronounce it in your tongue. You would also know me as the King of Conquorers, ruler of the glory that was the Macedonian Empire. Here, however, I am referred to as Shourisha Raida." He made a deep bow, then glanced down at the young ones. "Come now, children! You should greet her as I do--'tis only courtious, after all."
"Nice to meet you!" The children said with absolutely no coherency or unity.
"Well, now that we've all properly introduced ourselves, may I ask what your name is, little one?"
"My name...?" She asked warily as she peered up at him. "...Ilya. Ilyasvial von Einzbern."
"Hm...? Einzbern, you said?" Alexander scratched his chin. "Ah, no matter. So, are you here to play with the other children, Ilya?"
"W-well, not particularly," She replied with a huff. She felt a little frustrated he was being perfectly friendly enough for her to lower her guard, but also felt relieved as she understood him to be the type not to betray trust once it had been gained. "It was boring at my place, so I came here looking for someone."
"Oh? And I presume you were able to find him?"
"No, because you're just too strange for me to ignore," Ilya said in an irritated puff of her cheeks.
"Well, if you'd like, we can look for this individual if you're so intent on doing so. What's their name?" Alex asked.
"Mind your own business," She glared at him critically. In turn, he groaned, seeming to be at an empasse.
"Well, that's hardly good manners, child. You want me to explain my situation to you, and yet you insist on keeping to yourself?"
"You wouldn't know who he is, anyway, so why should I bother?"
He raised a challenging eyebrow. "Try me."
For a moment, she simply continued glaring at him, before casting her eyes to the ground. "Emiya... Shirou."
"Ehh?" One of the children chimed in, "Does she mean Shirou-nii-chan?"
The words seemed to surprise him, as his eyes widened at the sound of the name. "Emiya... Shirou? Well, I cannot say I know of such a person--"
"See?" She glared at him again. "That's why I didn't want you sticking that big, stupid nose where it didn't belong."
"Hey, take that back! Don't you insult jichan in front of us!" The uppity boy said angrily, before Raida laid a hand on the boy's head to stop him.
"Now, now, lad, there's no need nor benefit to react so viciously," He said in a calm, almost fatherly voice, then turning his gaze back to Ilya. "But I do know two people who have one part of that name. A man by the name of Emiya did live here some time ago, and Shirou is the name my son possesses."
Ilya's eyes widened. "A man named Emiya...?"
"Well, more specifically, his surname was Emiya; his given name was Kiritsugu. For lack of better terms, he was something of an accomplice of mine."
Before Ilya could respond, another of the children spoke up, impatiently tugging at Raida's arm. "Jichan, we gotta hurry! Our parents'll be back soon, so we gotta hurry and get the crepes you promised!"
"Huh?" The burly man cocked his head to the side, raising his arm to look on his (rather huge) watch. "Hmm, come to think of it, it is about that time, isn't it? We'd best hurry if we're to make it in time before the parents return to pick you all up, and we can't let them find out I'm stuffing your faces with sweets!" He sported a huge, cocky grin, which only seemed to evoke cheering from the little ones, inspiring the lot of them into an impromptu charge towards the playground gates, to the nearby crepe stand as they pushed Raida along.
"Hold on a second!" Ilya blurted. "What about--"
"We can discuss it later, young lady. Come! You'll be treated to a crepe as well!" He then plucked her up with ease, ignoring her protests as he set her on his shoulder.
---------------------------
Glen sighed with relief as he sat down in the chair for their table, finding the leather seat most welcome for his backside. "Ah, this place sure does bring back memories. Martha and I used to take you here all the time, didn't we, Shirou-kun?"
Shirou blinked uncomfortably at his grandfather. "Yeah, and I haven't been here since I was in elementary school. Glen-jiisan, you do realize I'm not a kid anymore, right? And the fact I don't really eat sweets?"
"Oh, I know that, but I've got a sweet tooth to satisfy," Glen replied with a chuckle. "No matter how much I age, I can't get enough of the pastries they sell here."
"You need to keep better care of your teeth, grandpa," Shirou sighed.
"I keep my teeth well-maintained, thank you very much," The elderly man said with a wave of his finger. "You should know as well as I do how Martha is about these things."
"Can't argue there," Shirou shuddered. "Martha-baachan made me brush my teeth three times a day, including flossing and gurgling. Heck, I still do it sheerly out of terror she may find me backsliding."
Glen nodded. "She's such a sweet woman--it can be hard somtimes for me to remember she has a bit of a scary streak when pushed." He then cleared his throat evenly. "But enough about that. What's been eating you?"
"Er..." Shirou muttered awkwardly, before relenting with a sigh. He reckoned some outside input might actually be a good idea. There was a reason therapy was a successful business, after all--telling others your problems not only let it out of your system, but it could just lead you to the answer you were looking for. "Well, you see Glen-jiisan... it has to do with a girl. You remember Sakura, right?"
"Oooh..." Glen said with a comprehending look. He had met Sakura before; a sweet girl who was long-time friends with Shirou, with a not-so-subtle infatuation with him. Quiet for the first few years, but became much warmer later on. Shirou brought her over occasionally, when he had opted to help with chores--which she naturally insisted on helping after coming out of her shell. "Sakura-chan, hm? Well, I do suppose she'd be the one... You've known her for so long, after all. My memory isn't what is used to be, but you met her back when you were little, right?"
"Around nine years, specifically," Shirou nodded. "I was held back a year due to the conflagration, and my dad transferred me into her school. I just happened to be put in her class, so I tried to make friends with her. Thing was, she was awfully quiet when I first knew her. But..." He looked down with an unreadable look on his face. "It was her eyes which bothered me the most. My dad once told me that eyes can be a window to the soul; she never seemed happy, or sad, or anything beyond that... emptiness in her eyes."
The same look I had in the fire which killed my parents, Shirou thought.
"So, you tried to make her smile," Glen concluded. "Evidently, you succeeded, I take?"
"Eventually, yeah. Oddly enough, I wound up in every class with her up until high school, so we saw a lot of each other. Took about four of those years to get through to her, but Sakura did finally open up to me. When I saw her eyes light up for the first time..." Shirou smiled bashfully, scratching his cheek, "I felt really happy."
"You were quite stubborn," Glen nodded, "Most boys would have given up long before you did, but you soldiered on. You had the most determined little face when it came to making friends with her."
"Yeah, and after she opened up, she became something of a little sister to me. My dad approved that I was bringing a girl over, and my uncle seemed to like her, too. And then there's Fuji-nee..." Shirou grumbled in annoyance. "Honestly, they tease us constantly to the point it's getting on my nerves."
"So what's the problem?" The elderly man asked, confused. "Are you annoyed that they're trying to pair you two up or something?"
The boy shook his head. "No, it's not that... it's just... lately, I've been having these weird thoughts about her. Noticing little things she does which I didn't see before. When I see her hurt, I feel like I wanna punch the daylights out of whatever is causing her pain. When I see other guys starting to get too friendly or close to her, I get really agitated for some reason. And... when she smiles in front of me, I feel like butterflies are in my stomach. And I have no idea why."
"Hmm..." Glen muttered thoughtfully, "I thought as much."
"Huh?" Shirou looked at him with an almost annoyed expression. "Glen-jiisan, if you know what my problem is, could you please not beat around the bush?"
"Oh, it's not a problem, lad," Glen smiled. "It's actually a very natural part of life, what you're experiencing. Me and Martha were a little worried when we didn't notice the changes when you were around twelve, but it looks like you've finally come around."
"Wait, what changes--? Ugh, nevermind, now can you just tell me?"
"If I did that, it'd be cheating, Shirou-kun," Glen said with a certain chastising in his voice. "All boys have to come to this conclusion themselves. Anything less would be a meaningless victory."
Shirou just about thudded his head into the table. "Jiisan, you shouldn't tease people like that..."
"However, I can give you a healthy tip, I suppose," Glen went on. "As your grandfather, it's my duty to see that you're prepared for this sort of thing. I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer me without thinking too hard on it."
"Well? What is it?" The boy blinked, by now more than a bit miffed by being pulled around like a rag doll.
"If you had to choose between letting Sakura leave your life for whatever reason she may have, or having her stay with you regardless of circumstances, which would it be?"
"..." Shirou simply stared at Glen, the question hitting him like a brick. Despite it's hypothetical nature, it felt like one of those do-or-die questions, the ones which could end up changing your life if given the right answer. Scratching his cheek, he muttered, "...Well, if I had to choose... I guess I'd want her to stay with me." He didn't know why he would choose such a possessive answer; was it because Kiritsugu had told him that girls needed to be protected? Was it because his own family seemed to like her?
No, it wasn't either of those reasons. It was far too personal for him to write it off so casually. Sakura had simply become someone irreplaicable to him. In fact, he hadn't even considered beforehand the fact that she could well end up leaving his life at some point. And that realization... terrified him. Even if it was selfish, even if it was unreasonable, he wanted to keep her in his life. He had to, or else he wouldn't be able to keep his promise to himself--the oath he took at Kiritsugu's funeral:
To never lose someone precious to him again.
"Then the answer isn't far out of your reach," Glen said with an approving smile, reaching an arm across the table to pat Shirou's head, snapping the boy back into reality.
"But... isn't that selfish? Greedy?"
"It can be, in a sense. But you do genuinely care about her, right?"
"That goes without saying--!" Shirou retorted, a sudden fluster coming across his face. "It's just... would she be mad at me for acting like that?"
"Maybe you should ask her about it, Shirou-kun. I can't speak on Sakura-chan's behalf; so if you really must know, you'll have to take it upon yourself to find out the answer." It was at that moment one of the waitresses came to the table, finally brining Glen a small parfait, which he seemed rather delighted at. "Ah, perfect timing. I don't know what they put in these little darlings, but I'll never get tired of it! Want a bite, Shirou-kun?"
"Er, well..." Shirou mumbled hesitantly, before hearing his watch beep several times. Taking a look at his watch, he made a short gesture of shock. "Oh, geez, it's this late already?! The girls are gonna kill me--!"
"Hm?" Glen blinked confusedly, "Girls, you say? What do you mean?"
"Sorry, Glen-jiisan, I gotta split! At this rate, I'm a deadman!" Slapping some pocket money on the table, Shirou lugged his groceries and went for the door, but not before shooting another glance at his surrogate grandfather, a broad grin on his face. "Thanks for the advice! It really helped!" He then headed out, the bell on the door clanging as he left, beginning to load his groceries back onto his bike.
Glen sighed, smiling helplessly as the boy left. "The wonders of youth, eh? Still, he's left with a better expression than the one he had before, so I suppose it works out in the end." He took a bite of his dessert before continuing to muse to himself.
"'A man will leave his family and cling to his wife,' huh...?"
---------------------------
Ilya was still absently munching on her crepe as she watched the children being picked up by their folks, a look of envy in her eyes. Sitting on one of the swings, she just silently stared as one by one, each of them took their parents' hands in theirs, walking out of site.
"Ah, that was close, I must admit," Alexander said with a grin. "If those mothers had found out I was giving away crepes to their children, I imagine I'd be in a world of trouble!" He laughed heartily, then turned his attention back to Ilya. "Well, then, now that that matter is over, I imagine you'd want to continue our discussion from earlier, lass?"
It was at that moment Ilya had realized she and the Servant--Rider, she now knew--were alone. Her grandfather would have been screaming at her for the foolishness of her actions, of letting her guard down so easily. Yet as she peered up into those dazzling crimson eyes of his, she again felt like she was with Berserker, like she didn't have to be scared of anything while he was in her sights. "...You're a weird Servant, you know that?"
Alexander made a displeased grunt. "You've said that already, lass. Surely you could think of something else to speak of, already!"
"But what you said was impossible," she said with a glare. "A Servant can't exist outside the Grail's power, so if you were summoned in this War, you can't have known Kiritsugu." However, her eyes were filled with uncertainty as she looked back down again. "But... at the same time, you do seem to know his name. There's already a Rider who's been summoned, and those big, stupid eyes of yours are telling me you aren't lying."
"Well, I suppose when you put it that way, you'd be right," Alexander nodded, scratching his beard as he closed his eyes in a contemplative look, before opening one eye at her. "However, also as you said, I'm not lying. Then allow me to ask you, Ilyasviel: if I were a Servant, but I seemed to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, how could you justify me being here? How would you explain my relationship with the people of this town?"
The man waited for the words to sink in. For a moment, she blinked at him in a frustrated confusion, trying to understand what he meant--before it hit her. Her eyes widened in shock at the revelation. "No way... that's not possible! Are you actually saying you're--?!"
Alex sported a large grin. "Spot on, lass. I am not of this War; but of the previous one! Summoned under the class of Rider, with one Waver Velvet as my Master, I fought in the fourth Heaven's Feel ten years previous. Though my road was filled with perils beyond your wildest dreams, I managed to emerge from the crucible triumphant in my original goal to claim a body of my own! With true flesh and blood, I shall soon commence my complete subjugation of the world!" He once more roared with laughed, leaving Ilya bewildered by his ambition.
"Wait... Waver Velvet?" Ilya blinked. The name was known to her. The true name of the upstart El-Melloi Lord who had supposedly helped Kiritsugu betray the Einzberns in the previous War. Once more she narrowed her eyes at Rider. "Then you helped him destroy the Grail?"
"Destroy the Grail?" Alex looked genuinely perplexed. "Hardly. We had actually joined forces to rescue your mother."
Ilya was stunned, her eyes widening like saucers. "You... you knew my mother...?"
"Indeed," Alex nodded. "The very image of beauty, she was. Kind, radiant, bubbily--if she weren't already married to that Kiritsugu fellow, I would have asked for her hand in an heart-beat." He chuckled at the words, before his expression softened. "You are very much her spitting image, lass."
Ilya's eyes filled with saddness as she recalled her mother. "...You really are telling the truth." Rider sat in the swing next to her, surprisingly not breaking it under his weight. She glanced back to meet his gaze once more, a desperation in her eyes. "Did... did Kiritsugu really betray her? Did he really leave her to die?"
For a moment, Rider simply looked down at the girl, a certain sadness in his voice before he replied. "The mother you knew, lass, that man never betrayed. What she became, I'm afraid, had to be stopped."
"What do you mean, what she 'became'...?!" she asked angrily. "My mother was always pure! She'd never betrayed anyone!"
"All the more reason what took her form had to be stopped," Alex replied gravely, his eyes seeming to bear into her very soul, before he sighed, scratching his head. "Perhaps, lass, I should start from the beginning. It will be easier for me to explain what happened that way."
"The beginning?" Ilya asked, "The beginning of what?"
"The final hours of the Fourth Grail War, to be specific."
--------------------------
Author's notes: Well, that took a while, dinnit? Sorry for the delay, folks--real life and writer's block is a marriage formed from the deepest bowels of hell. I was really stuck on what to put here, but I finally decided that I needed to get around to explaining just how Broskander survived the Fourth War. So, as a way of compensating you folks for the MASSIVE delay, I will be posting the PRO-prologue (Or Chapter Zero) of SotG, set during Fate/Zero. And, yes, I promise you there will be action. There will be fight scenes. And there will be the ZETSUBOU of Urobutcher smudged in there. Thanks for putting up with the hiatus.
Fail Event Horizon, out.
Originally Posted by Arch-Magos Winter
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