Disclaimer: I do not own Fate/stay night, and the italicized quote in the fourth section of this one-shot is from The Story of the Grail and the Passing of Arthur by Howard Pyle.
56 Days
7 Days
It's his night to make dinner. Shirou mechanically goes through the motions of preparing a meal; his usual enjoyment for cooking has been absent lately. He hardly notices what dishes he's making, but at least has enough focus on the task at hand to make sure nothing is burned or overcooked.
It's only when everything is ready that he realizes he made too much—again. His heart clenches painfully as he remembers that Saber is gone—again.
This is the third or fourth time it has happened.
If Taiga, Ilya, Rin, or Sakura have noticed that Shirou's made enough food for six or even seven instead of five, they make no comment.
14 Days
The picture of Saber he's trying to draw is only half finished. He's sketched out her facial features and slim frame, colored her long skirt blue, and used the palest yellow he could find to color her hair. He still hasn't found the perfect shade for her eyes, though; the various colored pencils either have a lot of blue and not enough green, or a lot of green and not enough blue.
With a sigh, Shirou pushes the picture aside, adding it to the small collection of similar, partially finished drawings on his bedroom desk.
A while later, he writes a letter to Saber. He doesn't intend to write much, just some things about how his day went (nothing terribly exciting, but that seems to be the norm these last couple of weeks), how Sakura and Rin are doing, the latest argument Ilya and Taiga managed to get into.
In short, just harmless, safe topics.
I miss you.
Shirou blinks, hardly believing what he just wrote. A simple, clear truth, yet it suddenly feels much more real now that it's in his own words.
I miss you.
Those three words repeat over and over like a mantra in his head. With his eyes burning and his throat tight, Shirou shoves the letter away before he can even think to just rip the thing up.
21 Days
Nightmares are nothing new for him. The fire that destroyed his hometown and the night his father died have visited his dreams on a regular basis for years. In a twisted, morbid way, the most emotionally scarring moments of his life are almost like old friends.
But for the past few weeks, Shirou has not dreamed about that inferno or Kiritsugu's death. Instead, he dreams about Saber.
In the dreams where he relives the moment of her disappearance, he often begs her not to leave, but sometimes he's unable to speak or even move a muscle. Either way, the dreams always end with her fading away while smiling serenely, and he always wakes up desperately calling her name.
Other times, he dreams about Saber being brutally killed by Gilgamesh as he watches helplessly from a distance. The ground is splattered with her blood, her normally bright, piercing eyes are horribly lifeless and dull, and Kotomine is taunting him in the background. Those dreams result in him waking up with his breath ragged and his body drenched in cold sweat.
Occasionally, however, his dreams of Saber are not nightmares at all; in some ways, that's even worse. In these particular dreams, he envisions a future where she returns to him somehow, where she's alive and well and they're happy together. He dreams about playing with a blond-haired son and a red-haired daughter as she looks on with a smile. And when he slowly leaves his fantasies to return to the waking world, for a few blissful seconds, he can fool himself into believing that she's sleeping next to him in the futon.
But only for a few seconds.
At present, Shirou is awake, staring mindlessly at the ceiling and not daring to fall asleep. For some reason, he vaguely remembers one of the dreams he'd had towards the end of the Grail War.
Saber is dressed as a peasant girl, running through a beautiful meadow and smiling more joyously than he'd ever seen her. He thinks that maybe it's the scenery that has her so happy. But he is quickly proven wrong.
To his utter astonishment, he sees himself, his back turned. He watches as his dream self turns around to face Saber, who is now standing before him, with a smile of his own. Neither of them speaks; the fierce embrace they soon share says more than words ever could.
That utopia in the dream...it's the place for which Excalibur's scabbard is named.
Suddenly feeling more awake than he had a few seconds ago, he makes plans to go to the library as soon as possible.
42 Days
Shirou has been reading any book on King Arthur he can find for three weeks straight. Some stories have a few inconsistencies with the dreams of Saber's life he'd had during the War, and others are completely, utterly fictional, but he pays it no mind.
The only thing he cares about is if he can come across anything about Avalon.
The book he is reading right now has this to say on the subject:
There in that pleasant country is no snow and no ice; neither is there the scorching heats and droughts of summer, but all forever and for aye is the tepid warmth of vernal springtime. ... There, people believe, yet liveth King Arthur, and he is not dead nor is he yet awake, but ever he lyeth sleeping as in peace.
But it is believed by many that the time shall come when he will awake again. Then he will return once more to this earth, and all shall be peace and concord amongst men.
A bittersweet smile crosses Shirou's face. Unfortunately, Saber returning is too much to hope for.
It's too much to hope for...but he has one more idea.
56 Days
Shirou stands on the same bridge where he and Saber had watched the sunset after their date. He stares without really seeing the flock of birds flying in the morning sky.
In his mind's eye, an image of Saber appears.
She feels so close, but when I reach out my hand, she's not there.
Even after two months, she is never far from his thoughts. He can't train in the dojo without thinking about their lessons in swordplay. He can't sit down for a meal without wishing she was there eating with him. And with every thought of her comes the reminder that she is not coming back.
But still, even if I can't reach her, part of her will always be in my heart.
As short a time as they had together, he knows he will never find another one like her, will never love someone else the way he loves her. He doesn't want to.
For a brief moment, we breathed the same air and looked up at the same sky. If we can remember that, then we will always be with each other, no matter how far apart we are.
What he wants is to reunite with her—if not in this lifetime, then in Avalon. He wants to see her and know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they won't have to say goodbye a second time.
Maybe that wish is impossible. Maybe it will never come true. But one thing is certain.
For now, I'll just keep on running. If I set my goals way out there, then someday, I should be close enough to reach out and touch what I've been chasing after.
He will fight to his last breath if it means he can hold her again.