Cu's cloak got caught in the wind.
Before he slipped into the heavily guarded jail in the suburbs, he had been wandering outside the window of the tiny local inn.
Lit by the swaying flame of a candle, the young female magi sat straight, facing the window. Her silhouette was graceful, her expression calm, but her sapphire eyes had that lost look, like a child who suddenly found herself homeless. Unfocused, she stared through his body of a spirit, as if trying to reach something long lost.
Those eyes...He was so tempted to just burst into the room, show himself, remove his hood before her startled eyes, and let her rest her head on his shoulders while she sobbed.
But he didn't. He knew the rules.
And he knew that, she who had been independent and steadfast all her life, she who left him mesmerized in those brief moments when their paths cross, will not fall in the face of such trivial pain.
The little girl of his past had indeed grown, he thought.
-But the little boy was still trouble, as always.
Tonight's wind blew heavy. Like butterflies ready to take off, the half-withered leaves flapped about in their branches, raising a noise like waves crashing shore under the disguise of darkness.
Before the military searchlight flashes past the corner where he had been hiding, Cu Chulain vanishes again into the air.
He had returned to visit someone.
"...You?"
"Ah, you remember. Seems like your brains aren't sizzled yet."
However, looking upon the prisoner lying barely alive at his feet, ragged clothing bloody all over, gray eyes a shade too bright with high fever, Cu felt like the one suffering from permanent brain damage.
Was this what he really wanted, wasting a wish by the Grail on this kind of meaningless reunion?
He was there anyway.
Stooping down, he began drawing those healing runes with a well-practiced hand.
They didn't even need to execute the prisoner. Even if left alone, he wouldn't survive.
Abusive use of mage craft far beyond the capacity of his body. Many long years spent on the battlefield. And that suicide mission in the nuclear plant. All those life-squandering stuff could overload any person, no matter how tough he once had been. Cu's fingers brushed across his shoulders and back. Only sharp, protruding shapes of ribs and shoulder blades could be found where the muscles should be.
"If I had known that little brat could look this ugly...That's it. How would you like me killing you here and now? It will be quicker. Less pain, less shame."
"Thanks for the kindness, but no thanks."
That hint of mockery had returned to his voice. So familiar. So infuriating.
"And I have to remind you, I'm a 'brat' no longer. Simple math. I am now ages older than you have ever been, the Irish Son of-"
The fever had been no improvement to that bastard's stinging character. Cu squeezed hard on his bandaged left arm, and watched with a certain satisfaction as those white brows screwed together, forcing back a groan of pain along with the unfinished sentence.
"...Spare some politeness for a visitor, will you? "
It has taken half an hour for the prisoner to recover enough of his strength, and for Cu to help him sit up against the wall.
"Why are you here? Surely not just to offer quick deaths." That question got asked, after all.
"Well, because I have nothing better to do. Just an impulse to visit a comrade." Cu sat down beside him. The ground felt cold and moist, on the verge of growing moss. No wonder he got a fever. "You signed the contract, you must have an idea of what's going to happen after tonight. No matter when and where I get summoned, I see you. Such nuisance."
"...Comrade?"
Broken images flashed before Cu's eyes.
Seven-layered, petal-shaped shield blossoming in the near darkness, absorbing the full impact of his Gae Bolg.
Muscular figure in a torn red cloak, raising hands in mock surrender, smirking, steel-colored eyes with just a hint of exhilaration.
"Yeah. Comrade, sometimes enemy. Very annoying enemy. "
"Such an honor, to be recognized by a great hero like you. "
"Doesn't sound like compliment, the way you put it. "
Silence fell between them.
The wind had died down. When, they didn't notice. Cold moonlight shone through the rails, casting shadows at their feet.
The conversation went on and off, going nowhere. The prisoner grew talkative, stating absurd opinions that Cu didn't bother to listen.
This person, technically, still wasn't the archer, who knew Cu intimately through countless battles. But he easily accepted Cu's brief presence, treating him like an old friend.
It was just like another holy grail war they fought together, and it was as if they were in a truce, a brief period of peace between fights to the death. Sometimes, just like this time, he had those rare moments of honesty, losing his interest in quarrels and pouring everything out to anyone who'd listen.
Cu didn't listen. He just happened to be there.
He didn't try to understand why his companion could still smile. How did that fragment of innocence survive the wars waged, the lies told, the betrayals initiated, the infinite desperation of a counter guardian's afterlife?
But he made an educated guess.
Cu's lack of attention was never discovered, even after the arduous preaching of the prisoner came to an end.
When silence descended again, he got up, stretched, untied the laces of his cloak and threw it over the prisoner.
And, as if it had just occurred to him, reached for something inside his clothes.
A necklace.
As he had expected, those gray eyes responded.
"Picked it from the warden's pocket." He shook the chain, placing the ruby into the prisoner's stretched out hand, moonlight bouncing off its shiny surface. "The girl will come tomorrow."
"Thanks...a lot. Is she well?" A little hesitant when he spoke, just like the youth he'd almost killed twice years ago.
He remembered.
"She's not that fragile, or I wouldn't have had my eyes on her. What, you have regrets? Want to go back and see her?"
The provocation was ignored. The prisoner simply closed his eyes, his right hand placed before his heart, fingers around the pendant.
Cu exhaled deeply. He reached for a lance that wasn't there, then as if to cover up for his actions, leaned his weight against the wall. He grinned at the prisoner.
"Farewell, then."
The prisoner looked up at him. The corners of his mouth tightened, on the verge of tilting upwards. The hard edges of his face suddenly gone, replaced by a subtle tranquility, the slightest touch of human warmth-
That impression...He knew nothing about it, didn't he? About how much he looked like a child when he smiled. Children are harder to deal with, harder than self-righteous women-
Cu was too lost in thought to realize how much his own smile had changed. A strange sadness so unlike him, creeping over his face, softening his own features-
"Farewell."
The sun was rising. The edge of the sky glowed red, like the color of the blood, lusted by those crowded in the plaza.
Cu stood a few paces behind Rin. He had slipped a runestone into her pocket, so she wouldn't get a cold for wearing a thin coat on a cold autumn morning.
She wouldn't discover. Like the cloak, the stone was invisible to eyes other than his. When he left this world, they would disappear like illusions. Never having existed.
When did he become like that guy on the gallows?
Cu pondered, as the final trace of life left the body of the convicted, as he felt his own consciousness fade.
Giving out warmth that was never needed, arriving and leaving without a trace.
Just like the first rays of dawn piercing though the morning sky.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Corrected some typos in the second draft.
Those who left comments and likes for this fragment, I'd like to say thank-you.
Had many difficulties with this website as a first-timer, plus network problems…So in the end I forgot to hit the Complete switch. I meant this as a one-shot, so terribly sorry if it's a disappointment…
But it might be possible to continue the story in two dimensions. Tracing back the changes in Emiya's path that led to his destination, and moving on to what he went through as a heroic spirit.
When I'm done with my finals I might come back for it.
If you find my style familiar, it might be that I've been reading All the Light We Cannot See. LOL. Now that I've mentioned it, Werner and Archer both had white hair…They have very little in common, other than that they both sought the impossible and were betrayed by their ideals.
Thank you all for reading.