Happy Family Story
Dr. Yuuichi Sawada walks home with weary steps. The sun, on its way to the horizon, saturates the sky with bright orange color. Being used to come home at this hour, he usually paid no attention to the sky. This time is different. Seeing the clouds in the sky helps soothing his sour mood somewhat after his experience today.
He has been reminded how fortunate he is for being able to once again see the skyline on his way home. Somewhere, somebody else isn't as lucky as he is.
Also, he is now living with someone whom he doesn't want to show his sulking face to.
“I'm home!”
Finally reaching the middle-raised house he lives in, Dr. Sawada calls out as he opens the unlocked door. It's only been three days since he could just leave the door of his house that way every morning.
“Welcome home, Dad!”
A small smile is formed on the middle-aged doctor's face when he hears his daughter's cheerful greeting. A warm sense of gratefulness fills his heart. To think that he can still feel the joy of togetherness after being left alone as an old man, God must love him.
Just like what that young priest has said.
“How was your day?”
Appearing from the hallway in white apron over casual clothes is his daughter, Miho Sawada. Her dark, wavy hair reaches her lower back and a pair of shapely legs holds her tall stature; he often has a hard time believing that his skinny little Miho has really grown into such a beauty.
“A little tiring, I'm afraid,” he answers, loosening his necktie as he does so. Miho takes his briefcase and jacket without being asked and then quickly gives him a peck to the cheek. He frowns.
“Miho, I told you to mind your manners. You're in Japan now.”
Responding to her father’s fifth chastising after her arrival, Miho giggles. “Sorry, Dad. Been living in Paris for years...”
“That's the same excuse you gave me yesterday. And the day before yesterday. You didn't go around Paris kissing old men, did you?”
Instead of answering, Miho hops back to the hall, smiling widely to her father. Then, “Oh wow, almost forgot our dinner! Can't have our stomach filled with blackened chicken, can we? You should go take a bath, Dad. I've prepared the hot water for you!” she says.
After that, she runs to the kitchen.
“... She didn’t, did she?” Dr. Sawada says, reassuring himself.
(IV)
Night has fallen. After bathing and having dinner, Dr. Sawada sits on the couch with his daughter, relaxing his body and mind. The TV is on, showing today's news. The murder case on Fuyuki City Central Park is the headline of the day. There is not much progress of its investigation, so the news is mostly only rehearsal of the same information from the morning.
Deciding that the news bores him, Dr. Sawada starts talking. “Today, one of my patients died.”
As he has expected, Miho seems curious. “Who? How did he die?”
“It's a high school girl, only two or three years younger than you. It really is unfortunate of her; I couldn't fully understand what caused her death.”
Miho, knowing that her father wants a good listener, turns the volumes of the TV down.
“She coughed up blood and according to her boyfriend, seemed to be suffering from severe abdominal pain; so I thought it was internal hemorrhaging in her digestive system. But she also showed heart burn symptoms, and she suffered damages to her spine – and by extension, her nerves as well.”
“That's really... peculiar.”
“You're right. It's like she had had about eight terminal diseases for years that suddenly reached their critical state at the same time this morning.”
“What about her medical records?” Miho asks. Her father shrugs his shoulders, sighing.
“Everything is normal. She was as healthy as a girl her age can be.”
“Could it be... poison? Or drugs?”
Dr. Sawada shakes his head. “Negative.”
Hearing it, Miho leans her back to the couch. “Poor girl,” she mutters, folding her legs and hugging them.
“We'd like to do an autopsy, but her family didn't allow it. Her funeral is tomorrow.”
“May I know her name?”
“It's... Shina Emiya, if I recall correctly.”
A brief silence follows, filled only by noises from the TV. Dr. Sawada's eyes were fixed on the screen when he gave Miho the reply, so he couldn't see his daughter widened her eyes as she heard the dead girl's family name.
“I saw how deeply her death affected her boyfriend. The boy really had a hard time believing it that I needed to repeat the news several times. Then he went back to his school, looked like a dead man walking. It seemed another good person had been taken to afterlife way too early.”
Finishing what he wanted to say, Dr. Sawada lets his head fall to the comfort of his couch. He feels relieved off the burdens now.
Aah, I've really gotten old, just keep rambling and rambling lately...
Ever since his daughter came home from Paris, he has been talking to her about many things: his job, his political views, and his hobbies. Maybe he is just that glad to have a conversation partner after having lived alone for years and Miho never showing any dislike to this habit just encourages him. In fact, she would gladly chime in, commenting on his opinions with her vast knowledge she must have learned in Paris.
Again, he feels very grateful to have Miho by his side.
“You have done your best, Dad. I know you did,” there, she is trying to cheer him up. A good daughter, isn't she?
“There's nothing you need to worry about. Just relax and rest for now.”
As she says so, Miho runs her fingers through his whitened hair, massaging his head. The pressures are comforting, causing him to feel more relaxed than ever.
“Mmhm, thank you, Miho,” he says, turning his head to look at his daughter. She responds with a smile. Her brilliant scarlet eyes show nothing but genuine affection.
Wasn't she used to be a rebellious girl? Have something happened in Paris that turned her into such an ideal daughter?
Without a sound, Dr. Yuuichi Sawada falls asleep.
After making sure of it, Servant Assassin materialized himself. Deep blue cloak and turban covering his whole body, the Heroic Spirit of Stealth and Murder appears as if emerging from the shadows. His eyes, hidden beneath the smiling white skull mask observe the pair of father and daughter. One would have an impression that Assassin is silently mocking the scene before him.
That's partially true. He is both admiring his master's flawless acting and mocking Yuuichi Sawada's foolishness.
“There are some changes to our plan, Assassin,” Miho Sawada, or more correctly the woman who stole Miho Sawada's identity, says with a voice that bears no semblance to the way she talked earlier. She is showing her true self; a woman with countless traps and secrets hidden behind her delicate features.
“What are they, Milady?”
“You will be watching the fight between Archer and Lancer by yourself. I think there's something interesting at the hospital Sawada works in, so I'm going to check it out,” saying so, Assassin's Master rises from the couch, carefully placing Dr. Sawada's head so that he won't fall from his sleeping position.
“And if one of them gets slain?”
“Obviously, kill the winner's master and take their grimoire with you,” as if being excited about her disturbing orders, she smiles. “I'll also place some of my familiars around the area. The first clash of Servants will definitely tempt quite a crowd to come.”
“As you wish,” is Assassin's curt reply.
Assassin's Master walks to her room, taking out her favorite jacket from the wardrobe. Familiar weights in its pockets tug on her shoulder, boosting her sense of safety. She reaches the right pocket and takes out a cellphone; an item that's quite rare for an ordinary homely girl to possess.
“Assassin, have you finished my request?” she asks her Servant as she dials a number while approaching the door.
Assassin, following her from behind without a sound, takes something from beneath his cloak. “Here it is, Milady,” he says, extending his overly skinny hand to his master. She quickly accepts the item and puts it in her jacket pocket.
“Well, then, I'm off. Good luck, Assassin.”
“Good luck for you too, Milady.”
Waving her hand, she makes her way out of Sawada house, not seeing her servant disappears like a smoke.
On her first step outside the house, her phone call gets answered. A male voice speaks out from the other side.
They have a conversation as Assassin's Master makes her way to the hospital.
“Good evening. It's me. Yeah, the information broker. Tonight Archer and Lancer will clash. The place is Homurabara High School. Surveillance? No problem, I'm already on it. What? My name? You forgot already? Well, I guess it's rather hard to remember...”
She laughs. Despite the secretive nature of this conversation, the young woman's way of talking never strays from being cheerful.
“Okay, let me introduce myself for the last time. My name is Misaya. Misaya Reiroukan.”
Finishing her phone call, Misaya puts her cellphone back in to her jacket’s right pocket. Inhaling the fresh air, she looks up to the sky where the moon is hanging. Its shape is not yet full, but she can already feel her blood flows faster and her movements becomes smoother as its soft silver light reaches her.
“I might miss this sensation after this ridiculous war is over…” she muses aloud, sounding languid despite her unchanging smile.
“… but, I’m missing the warmth of sunlight for now.”
After affirming her dearest wish, Misaya Reiroukan continues her trip to the heart of Fuyuki City, silently spending the first night of the Fifth Holy Grail War in her own way.
To be continued...
Author's Notes: Chapter 4 is being rewritten because the fight scenes need more works. For now, let me introduce you to some rather important supporting characters: Misaya Orihara Reiroukan, her OC of a fake father, and the blandly written mysterious Servant Assassin. And some more foreshadowings.
Ayaka and Misaya here are different from their original Fate/Prototype selves when it comes to backstory, otherwise, in terms of characterization and magecraft they are... uh... quite similar. Why I include them here? Well, because I want to and I'd rather avoid using OCs. That's it.
Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy it. Reviews and criticisms are highly welcomed.
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Originally Posted by Imperial
