A little idea I got from reading a review. Enjoy.
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Fire.
That’s the first thing I can remember.
Laying on a pile of wreckage, coughing on shoot, the glow of the flames.
The fire that killed my family, probably all my friends too. Even today, the smell of soot or anything burning brings that memory back.
But it’s not bad, because that’s also when I met him.
I remember… seeing his face looking down on me as he held me in his arms. He looked… so happy. So overjoyed to see me, to find someone else alive in all of that destruction. And I was happy too.
He later told me his name was Kiritsugu. That was also when he asked me if I wanted to come live with him. He told me that otherwise I’d probably have to go live at an orphanage, and that wasn’t very fun, he said he knew from experience.
I asked him, ‘Why me?’, and he told me about how he too had lost his family in the fire. He told me how he had also lost his parents when he was just a kid too, and knew what it was like to grow up on your own. He said that it wouldn’t just be him helping me, I would be helping him too.
For some reason, I liked that idea, and I liked him too. So I accepted his offer, and that was when he adopted me. I was 8 years old.
Looking back, it was amazing how easily we settled in together. Like everything just ‘clicked’. I guess it was because we were both alone, everything we knew had been taken away, and now we just had each other. Or something like that.
I’ll admit, Kiritsugu didn’t hold up the house all on his own. I certainly pulled my own share of the weight, but I never minded. He wasn’t exactly ‘Greatest Dad in the world’ material, but he was always there when it mattered.
I remember how he seemed to let me get away with anything, he certainly never gave me a bedtime, or the ‘don’t eat junkfood’ line, though I think that was because I preferred to make my own meals (and his).
And whenever I did do something wrong, he never seemed to get angry. Thinking back I can only remember a handful of times where he even raised his voice at me, let alone yell. Instead, he would just seem… disappointed, and sad. And somehow that always straightened me out.
He also traveled a lot, especially in the first two years. He’d always leave me with the neighbors. That’s how I met Taiga, or Taiga-nee as she always tells me to call her.
It was on my twelfth birthday that things started to change. That was when he came back from his latest trip, and last trip. He had looked so empty when he walked through the door. When he saw me, he seemed to just… break. He pulled me into a hug, saying ‘I’m sorry’ over and over. I can still remember the feeling of the tears he was crying. And I knew I wasn’t the one he was apologizing to.
The next day he told me that he was a magus, and the truth about the night we first met.
He told me how he used to be a Hit-man, an assassin. The ‘Magus Killer’ as he was infamously known. He told me how he had a wife, and a daughter, and how he was part of this contest between mages called the ‘Holy Grail War’. And he told me how it had all gone wrong, how his wife had been turned into the Grail itself, and how he had been forced to destroy it. And that he had been the cause for that fire. And he told how his daughter was still alive, but her family wouldn’t let him see her, because he had failed to bring them the Grail.
And he told me that he was dying. How the Grail had ‘cursed’ him when he had destroyed it. That was why he always seemed tired. His life was slowly fading. He told me he probably only had a few more years at most.
There were a lot of things going through my head at the moment, but hatred wasn’t one of them. I didn’t hate my Dad for causing that fire. I knew he had his reasons.
And for the next few years, he taught me how to take care of myself. He told me that since I had his last name, some magus’s might recognize it and come after me after he was gone. So he taught me things. He taught me how to fight, he showed me how to use magic. He finally let me see what was in the secret basement (Wow…), and he taught me how to survive.
And then there came that one night, when I was sixteen. It was his birthday. The small party had long ended, and we were sitting at the backdoor, looking up at the moon, just enjoying the view.
“When I was kid… I always wanted to be a Superhero.” He said to me.
“Why did you stop wanting?” I asked, though I had a feeling where this was going.
“Because I was naďve. The world isn’t a kind enough place for Superheroes. I tried my own way to save people but… Well you know how that turned out…”
“Well don’t worry about it.” I replied, “Because I’ll do it for you. I’ll find a way to help people. Count on it.” I probably made the biggest grin off my life.
And I remember how he looked then. He looked… relieved. Like for once, the weight on his shoulders lessened, if only a little.
“Thanks… I guess now I can rest easy.”
As I helped him into his bed, he told me that he loved me.
It would be the last time I would hear his voice.
Somehow, I knew. I knew it was coming that night. But Kiritsugu Emiya died with a smile on his face, so that made a little easier.
So I choose not to remember that moment of cold realization that hit me the next morning. I choose to remember all the other moments, the moments where he was the best Dad I could ask for. How he took me in, and gave me everything, when I had lost everything but my name.
Irisviel…
Irisviel Emiya.
I always liked how that sounded.
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Betcha’ didn’t see THAT coming, huh?
I give you: The Iri Route!
Edit: And yes, there is going to be Iri/Saber in this.
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Originally Posted by asterism42
