Interlude
The End of Escape
This is the story of a fugitive.
A woman who averted her eyes from her own sin, and turned her back on the "punishment" closing in on her. She had no hope, no destination; she could not even see one step ahead on her road. Even so, she could not stop. She just kept running. Even knowing that there was nothing but destruction at the end of her road, the fugitive continued to cling to something.
In the town of Fuyuki, there was an apartment building called the Semina Apartments. It was the point where everything started, and, to her, it was the end of the world. Her memories of the time before those apartments no longer had any meaning for her. All of her extraneous past had been peeled off in flight after flight. All that remained to her now was consciousness of guilt and fear of punishment. That, and the figure of the girl-like "something" in a red hood that continued to watch her.
Whether it actually existed, or was an illusion brought on by her own awareness of guilt, even she did not know. In the end, as long as she could see it, it did not make much difference. At least, that was what she thought.
In search of salvation, she had even made her way to the church on a hill in Fuyuki. It was only a vague memory now, but she had a feeling that the priest there had told her something. It was only a feeling, because all her memories around that period were hazy.
"..., ___ will _____..."
"Could it be that __________ deal with..."
She knew that it was odd, but when she tried hard to remember, her head hurt.
"Ultimately, ___ is..."
Her inability to remember was strange, but the feeling that she must never go near that church again, at least, was carved deep into the fugitives instincts, like a wild animal's aversion to fire.
Then she had fled the town of Fuyuki, and wandered aimlessly for months, then years. Always sensing the presence of "Red Riding Hood" in the dark behind her, in the black of night, on the other side of the shadows birthed by city lights.
What should I do?
Unable to endure the strain, she continued to wander from place to place like a living corpse. At last, as if drawn by something, she returned to the town of Fuyuki.
She heard rumors in town that the priest had changed, but she still could not bring herself to make her way to the church. The Semina Apartments were supposed to be her home, but she could not return there, either. She just went on forcing her corpse to shamble around the town.
Then, while she was searching for someplace to go, she heard a rumor: "There's a Western-style house in the forest." When she heard other rumors about the house, such as that ghosts appeared there, she naturally found herself heading for it.
If the rumors were true, if ghosts did appear there, she had to see them with her own eyes. She had to see them so that she could be sure if the "Red Riding Hood" lurking in the darkness around her was of their kind. That was the reason she told herself, but she may just have been looking for a place to die.
But then, when she had heard similar rumors about the temple on the mountain, and made her way there, she had not managed to see anything but unusual fish making a commotion in the pond, so she did not expect much from rumors. In spite of that, she thought making her way to the forest was better than being in the city. At the very least, "Red Riding Hood" would not appear in the forest.
Following the rules she had discovered in her flight, she walked between the trees, which reminded her of a witch's forest in a fairy tale. Then an enormous, Western-style mansion, out of step with the atmosphere of the region, reared up in front of her. Before she could appreciate the eeriness of such a large house being constructed in secret, she was overwhelmed by the majestic appearance of the building. She might as well call it a castle.
The fugitive only surveyed the castle from a distance. She certainly never tried to go inside. She was afraid that such an enormous mansion might be fitted with some kind of service elevator.
"Red Riding Hood appears in elevators."
That was one of the rules. The reason went without saying.
She cautiously strolled around the castle. As she did so, she sensed a change in her own heart.
What could it be? It's strangely, how should I put it... umm... calming. Yeah, that's it.
She did not know why, but she felt relieved for the first time in years. After that, she visited the castle in the forest many times. She never set foot inside it; just abandoned herself to the constant scenery.
Then, several months later, she was visiting the castle as usual, when the voices of women arguing about something reached her ears. She was surprised by the first sign of people she'd encountered there, but she did not find it especially strange. A look at the flowers blooming in the garden was enough to make clear that someone was at least seeing to the upkeep of the place. She was curious to see what sort of people the castle's staff were, and quietly headed in the direction of the voices, keeping hidden in the shadows of the trees.
Soon, two women came into her view. At first glance, she thought they must be twins, or at least sisters. That was because their distinguishing features were so much alike. Their beautiful silver hair was so clear that she mistook it for pure white, and their white skin put her in mind of a snowfield. Their red eyes, recognizable even from a distance, matched as well.
The pair of them appeared to be arguing about something, but one seemed to be trying to persuade the other, while the other's demeanor suggested she was merely giving vent to her anger.
"There's not a scrap of sense in such a thing! Filia, what on earth are you—"
"Enough! I won't rely on you people... I'll see it through myself!"
Who could they be? Maybe this castle is some foreign billionaire's vacation home, and those two are their staff? The fugitive wondered as she observed the "white women." It seemed to her, however, that an aura of difference, greater than that of foreigners, surrounded the women. Almost like they had snuck out of a fairy tale...
While the fugitive was busy indulging in fantastic suppositions, she completely failed to notice that she had not fully concealed her presence.
"Even if it means abandoning the name of Einzbern, I will—"
At that point, the enraged woman suddenly froze.
"...Who's there?"
The woman's face, from which she erased all expression as she turned to look at her, seemed incredibly beautiful. And that was as far as she went. Her memories after meeting the white woman's eyes became hazy, just like those of her visit to the church. Probably, she had been placed under suggestion or something of the sort using magecraft. The fact that such things existed was hammered into her head later by the white woman.
"Are you____? Or _________________."
Unlike with the church, she felt no sense of aversion toward the castle or the white women themselves.
"What sort of coincidence? It couldn't be _____..."
"It couldn't be so... No, it doesn't matter."
The groaning deep inside her brain whenever she tried to remember what had happened then, however, was the same. She felt sure she must have been placed under suggestion, or something like it. Or perhaps it was the same as what that priest and ___ had done to her at the church.
___.
Something that had been with the priest. When she tried to remember that being, her brain creaked and her memories blurred.
The woman at the castle and the priest. She knew very well that it was those two who had guided her down this path when she had been a mere fugitive, but however she tried, she could not remember what had been said to her when she had met them. The hazy, black and white memories went on swirling through her brain like the split halves of a yin-yang.
But she did remember one thing that the priest had said to the "something" beside him.
"Its
fate has piqued my interest. Did you not do the same for me, once?"
And she remembered just one thing the white woman had said to her at the castle.
"You have no right to choose your own fate. I shall give your life meaning."
The word "fate," etched into both the priest's and the white woman's statements, had become a malediction, and in the end, the fugitive had been carried along by her surroundings and put Japan behind her, just as the white woman said. Even now, when the fugitive — Ayaka Sajou — had been drawn into a mystical war in America, she continued to wander in search of answers.
How can my crimes be forgiven?
What in the world am I supposed to do in this city...?
X X
America. Snowfield. In a nightclub.
The basement of a rundown building in the city center.
A stage for live musical performances had been erected in the space, which could not be called spacious, and a pastoral melody resounded across it. The tone and melody of the tune, which was blasting out of an electric guitar amp, seemed mismatched at first, but it gradually picked up speed, added a peculiar rhythm, and metamorphosed into a sound suited to the atmosphere of an electric guitar in a nightclub. It was almost like the melody was being remade to suit the instrument as it was played.
Once he had finished the tune, the player spoke.
"There... How was that?"
The man holding the electric guitar did not match even the initial, pastoral music. He was clad in magnificent armor, and a breeze from the air conditioning stirred his blonde hair, streaked with red. At the Heroic Spirit's — Saber's — words, a number of wide-eyed men and women around him launched into a flurry of excited replies.
"Woah... You rock! Was that seriously your first time?"
"Amazing... You've got style. I was sure you were an up-and-coming comedian or something."
The boisterous men and women all wore their hair in gaudy, multi-colored mohawks, and their entire bodies were girded with clothes, piercings, and tattoos of otherworldly designs. They looked like personifications of the word "thorny," but their faces wore friendly smiles, and they were all admiring the man who looked, in a sense, the most otherworldly of them all.
"You expect us to believe you've never played a guitar before? ...Or so I'd like to say, but I get the weird feeling that you're not lying..."
"I don't want to sound vulgar, but you could get paid for that performance."
Saber shook his head, looking pleased but bashful.
"Oh, I can't hold a handle to professional such as yourselves. This is the first time I've touched one of these 'electric guitars,' but I did learn a stringed instrument something like it a long time ago."
"I'm telling you, you're plenty good! Speaking of which, what was that tune? I've never heard it before."
"Oh, once, a long time ago I made a blunder and got captured," Saber replied, smiling as if it a fond memory. "I just tried speeding up the rhythm of a tune I composed on a whim while I was imprisoned."
"You mean you can compose, too? And you're an ex-con?"
"You're him right? The guy who got arrested on TV earlier, and gave that speech?"
Saber nodded, a little bashfully, in answer to a question from a woman in punk clothing.
"You were watching, then. Well, my words were too few to call a speech, but..."
"Wait, did you break out of jail? That's pretty cool."
"We merely evacuated in the confusion following what happened to the police station. It is not for me to judge whether or not that's considered a jailbreak," Saber replied courteously, shrugging his shoulders. The gaggle of young people around him grew even more excited.
"Man, that was amazing! What was it? That explosion, I mean?"
"It looked like the hotel got hit pretty hard too."
"Speaking of which, I heard somebody won so big at the casino earlier you wouldn't believe it..."
"..."
A figure leaned its back against a corner of the stage, listening to the young people's conversation without a word. The woman who was supposed to be a solitary fugitive — Ayaka Sajou — gave her head a big shake, and groaned inwardly.
Is this supposed to be my fate?
At the end of her flight, she had arrived at a nightclub. She was surrounded by young people dressed in punk fashion — nothing like anyone she'd known in Fuyuki — and a meddling Heroic Spirit who kept fearlessly stepping over her boundaries.
"Say, I feel embarrassed in front of professionals such as yourselves, but I've just thought of a new tune. Would you mind if I played it?"
"Sure, go ahead. We're looking forward to hearing what sounds jump out too."
"Thank you! Would you listen closely as well, Ayaka? I'd like to ask your feelings later."
She glared at Saber, who had begun to strum the electric guitar again as he spoke. At length, she heaved a sigh of self-reproach, as if to deny the part of her that felt just a little moved by his playing.
What in the world am I doing?
Originally Posted by OtherSideofSky
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