Author's Note:

OK, I'm kinda new to writing fanfiction. Honestly, I've thrown some stuff around before, but nothing too fancy.

Who knows? This might go somewhere. But given that my word count sucks, IDK.

I got into Fate recently, and this idea had me thinking. So, I decided to start with this. If it's OK, I'll continue.

Please review! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Fate. The folks at Type-Moon do, and they do a good job of it.


Fate/prismatic illusion

Prologue: Equivalency

Death.

Death was in the air.

Screams of pain and anguish, sorrow and agony, all of them pierced the burning landscape amidst the crackling fires. Unrelenting, the embers laid waste to the new hell that was the Holy Grail incarnate cursing the ground it was summoned upon.

Bones and flesh were gnawed at by the fire, falling into the maelstrom of desth that was the Great Fuyuki Fire. Memories, both immaterial and alive, were engulfed and thrown into the conflagration.

And as everything burned and even Gaia herself tried to put out the unholy inferno, a boy wept.

The boy trekked through the inferno, even through his pain and the infernal heat. With a sob, he staggered along the charred and singed ruins of the house that once stood.

Suddenly, he fell, tripping over a toppled tree, a small one which numbered among the many that had once lined and dotted the neighborhood.

He could feel the heat eating away at his skin; with each passing step, it hurt more and more. Despite being a child, Shirou Aoki completely understood, through his dulled senses that had saw death, that he was about to die.

Struggling to recover from the setback leaving him with another set of third-degree burns, Shirou's legs failed him. He crumbled into the abyss of death, crying to himself as his mind tried to process every image of flames and destruction he was immersed by.

Starting in small teardrops, the tears stabilized into a slow, but steady stream of anguish and loss.

He cried, thinking about Mama and Papa who had told Shirou to run as his home collapsed and burned like a handful of kindling. He cried, thinking about his sister, who was playing at a friend's house in the same neighborhood, the house collapsing minutes after his entire life was erased by flickers of bright orange and red. To him, those minutes seemed like an eternity, and he cried even more, as he lost feeling in his limbs, vaguely understanding and accepting of his fate.

And as his eyes slowly blurred, seemingly trying to block out the imagery of horror that had pervaded his very being, the heart of hearts that Shirou Aoki possessed accepted that everyone was truly gone.

The moment that Shirou Aoki's soul surrendered to the flames, the pendulum of destiny was swung.


"For want of a thought, a soul was lost.
For want of a soul, a heart was shattered."


If Kirei Kotomine were alive and well to see a show displaying Kiritsugu's reactions to the fiery blaze, Kirei may have very well choked while laughing.

The slight hint of humor that had found its way into Kiritsugu's subconsciousness was immediately extinguished by the next scene of destruction.

The fire was gone here. The rain that pattered the ground did nothing to put out the flames, but instead highlighted the hopelessness that Kiritsugu started to feel after waking up.

In this particular stretch of ruin, five bodies laid, terribly burnt. Even Kiritsugu in his desperation and longing that there was someone he could save in the ruins and ashes of the fire realized that these people were already dead.

Yet, for no particular reason, he slowly analyzed the bodies, trying to hear or see, just to find signs of life among the living hell.

After looking at four of the bodies, he noticed one laid on the ashes, its head turned to the side.

Suddenly, he saw the rubble twitch. Barely noticeable to the human eye, Kiritsugu Emiya was not human.

And with all his strength, he rushed towards the body.

He heard the weak, irregular heartbeat.


"Time Alter: Triple Stagnate!"


He saw the body- no, the boy's chest rise a bit.


"...hm."

Then gunshots flew in the world of mirrors.


Frantically, he pulled out Avalon, trying to be as brief and quick as possible. If he succeeded, he would save someone. He would-

As he pushed Avalon into the boy, he saw the holy light of the scabbard of the fae shine brilliantly.

Just as he had hoped for, the boy's wounds slowly started to close. As the light glided across the boy's body, slowly forming a sort of bandage, Kiritsugu slowly tried to wake him up.

He motioned to the boy, trying to stimulate the boy's senses.

"Hey, wake up. You'll be OK."

Nothing.

He nudged the boy, whose glazed copper eyes were unmoving.

"Hey, wake up."

Even as Avalon's light faded, Kiritsugu started to forcefully nudge the boy's body.

"Wake up."

And then, his anger overtook his common sense.

"WAKE UP!"

Suddenly, Kiritsugu felt a pit in his stomach beginning to form. He tried to feel for a heartbeat on the boy.

It was gone.

Kiritsugu's heart thumped.

No, I was too late.

Another thump.

Avalon, The Ever-Distant Utopia. That which is unnatural or unholy, return to what it once was.

Pressure filled his chest.

I...couldn't save...a single...life?

A light chuckle came.

Kiritsugu Emiya's restraints had broke.

The chuckle turned into a crescendo of laughter. It was the unnatural laughter of an implacable man, a man whose mind of steel finally shattered.

Kiritsugu Emiya fell onto the pile of ashes lining the ground with his hands and knees, as the rain muted the Magus Killer's mad laughter.

And when that cacophony of sound ended, Kiritsugu's face fell into his hands, which straddled the ground.

And when the reprieve consisting of ambient raindrops and panting ended, the Magus Killer haphazardly raised his head.

And screamed.


"For want of a lost heart, a dream was remembered.
For want of a dream, all he saw was an illusion."


TWO WEEKS LATER

"Hello?"

A knock on the door.

No, less a knock and more a person trying to get in.

"Is there anybody in there?"

Silence greeted the voice.

"Well then," the voice seemingly fumbled around a set of keys. The door started to slide open.

"I'll just have to drop this off for Kiri-"

Taiga froze. The bags that she were carrying fell onto the wooden floor of the genkan. As she looked closer, she saw the mess that had engulfed both the dining room and the kitchen. Littered with dishes and God-knows-what-else, the table was a far cry from its usual cleanliness and maintenance, even out of alignment.

As she looked for how and why the house had ended up looking like the aftermath of an earthquake ripping through it, she muttered to herself. "What in the world...?"

Suddenly, as she marched down the hall, Taiga saw a figure to the left. Immediately with heightened senses, she looked inside the room.

With a dull gaze that seemed to be present yet unfeeling, Kiritsugu Emiya looked at Taiga. Taiga, before acknowledging this, noted the large amounts of tissues scattered across the bedroom's floor. She also noted the presence of two rather long bandages lining Kiritsugu's arms.

As Taiga looked at Kiritsugu, she was in shock. She had no words, absolutely unprepared to see Kiritsugu, her longtime friend, in such a condition all so suddenly.

Hoarsely, Kiritsugu tried to clear the mood with an uninspired quip.

"I think this is what people nowadays call 'looking like shit'."


Kiritsugu struggled to get out of the futon. Feebly, he repeatedly tried to rise and walk to the dining room, while Taiga was preparing a meal for him, but his physical strength failed him.

"Here, Kiri."

Taiga lent a hand to Kiritsugu, who staggered as he walked. Slowly, with Taiga's help, he was able to reach the dining room and sit down. He could smell the refreshing scent of soup permeating the air, a small part of life he missed.

"Geez, what happened to you?" Taiga handed him a bowl of miso soup and a bowl of rice, which he was barely able to place on the table. "First, you say that you'll be gone for a week. And then, no one sees you for another week! Everyone was worried about you, even Grandpa!"

"Nothing much. I just happened to get a nasty cold, that's all." He tasted the soup. Then, he motioned to Taiga. "This is pretty good."

Suddenly, Taiga turned around, with more than a hint of anger in her voice. "Don't change the subject, Kiri!"

She softened, as she saw Kiritsugu flinch at that. "Seriously, I'm worried about you. How in the hell does a cold cause you to injure both of your arms? A cold doesn't make you look like crap all of a sudden."

Kiritsugu cursed under his breath, as he thought. Then, he started to talk.

"Remember what happened two weeks ago?"

"Of course I do, you dummy." Taiga teased. Yet, deep inside, she couldn't help but start to feel unease building up in the air.

Kiritsugu began to mouth a reply after finishing his soup, but then stopped himself. There was a moment of silence.

Taiga was suddenly scared.

"...in the direct aftermath of the Shinto Fire, I went to go look for survivors."

Her eyes shot wide open, her hands coming together over her horrified expression of shock.

"So...so those injuries..."

"No, they're from something else."

Taiga sighed. "Thank God."

"Taiga," Kiritsugu caught her attention, as he looked down, "the reason why I haven't spoke with anyone in 13 days isn't because of what happened to me."

"It's what happened to them."

And the moment that Kiritsugu Emiya says this, Taiga realizes the full extent of his words, his actions.

So he went all the way out into the fire, just to find someone, and he found no one. Taiga thought for a second. No wonder why he's been so reclusive. I know that his dream was silly, but to think he would actually try...

"And what I failed to do."

When Kiritsugu looked back at Taiga, tears streamed down his face.

"I could have saved them. I could have saved them. I could have saved..."

He broke down, and started crying into Taiga's arms. She comforted him, even as the dissonance between the warm afternoon air and the stone of guilt being lagged behind himself grew.

She was truly the last person he could rely upon, even in his weakest moments.


"For want of an illusion, a prism was forged.
For want of a prism, the crane wings flew."


WOW

That went better than expected. Let me know if you have any criticisms right now. I'm a Type-N00b, at least in comparison to some other writers out there, so I appreciate any comments/review made.

Thank you! :)