((Angst angst and more angst mostly written by Byaku))
{Pretty much just angst, really}
((Okay yeah I basically wrote it and Byaku edited the whole thing and she basically rewrote it to make things 100 times better. So this is more like Byaku's story with hints of my writing scattered about.))
It has been a slow day at the graveyard. Behind his desk in the little booth a little way in, the current watcher sits at his post, yawning as he stares out towards the rows of graves. Only three people have come today. One is the daily visitor, an old woman who always buys four yellow roses and three red tulips for her dead husband, and the father-daughter pair who walk through once a year plus a few other times.
Probably when the weather suits their mood, the man thinks. The father could just as well be an uncle, or any distant relative or even a friend. After all, there is no family resemblance. Perhaps the dead parent (or parents, as the girl bears no clear resemblance to the man) have stated in their will that the man is the guardian, and that he will watch over the girl and manage the family finance or something. They have the look of rich people.
"Ah, here comes Kotomine-san again. I thought he was already satisfied with that one visit, but perhaps not. He is visiting his beloved teacher and he is the current caretaker of his teacher's daughter, so I wouldn't be surprised."
The watcher doesn't really like his partner. She is chipper and friendly, and while he doesn't mind this, and this is also good for everyone who visits, being stuck in a small, 3 meter by 3 meter metal box for eight hours with someone who sounds like a game show host is not pleasant and does grate on the mind.
But she is right, and sure enough, a man in dark, dark purple jogs (who even jogs these days) up the sidewalk. In one hand is what looks like a takeout bag; in the other hand is a bouquet of flowers bought from the flower shop just further down the street.
"Welcome," says his partner as Kotomine jogs past them. Kotomine spares them a cursory nod before continuing on his way. The watcher, as per his duty, watches him go - and as usual, Kotomine takes the usual path - down through the main path, all the way to the old mausoleum in the back that isn't really a mausoleum at all - it's more of a glorified statue in the shape of a house. The watcher doesn't question it - the Tohsaka family always gives a large donation to the graveyard, and as part of that donation is his salary…
Kotomine disappears from view. The Tohsakas have a burial place designated for them, behind the mausoleum, just rows and rows of dead Tohsakas.
The watcher's partner turns to him. "Did you see what he was holding? In that bouquet?"
"No, why?"
"The flowers! They have such deep meaning! He must be a well educated man, indeed. His teacher taught him well, a pity that he is dead."
"Really? How are they different?"
"Well-" The watcher tunes his partner out.
The watcher thinks nothing of it. A year after the Tohsaka man was buried, they all came - the caretaker, the daughter, a woman he assumes to be the mother - and left flowers. Hydrangeas, roses, chrysanthemums, carnations, gladioli, sweet peas, the list went on, as his partner informed him with a sort of manic glee in her eyes (he's sure this is why she was hired, and it will probably be why she will be fired, if that ever happens). Over the years, the mother disappeared, with the caretaker and daughter coming together, coming alone, at various times throughout the year, bringing various varieties of flowers, with his partner eagerly telling him of the news.
"The child brings primroses all the time, don't you notice? And yellow and white camellias, and bluebells!"
"What of it?"
"Don't you know? She's desperate, she's grateful, she longs for something, she's waiting for something! And if you add in all the meanings from around the world, it means so much!"
"Is that so?"
"Yes! Don't you ever pay attention to the flowers?"
"You're the one who sells them. I watch, remember?"
"Yes, you may watch, you may see, but you don't observe. You really should try it sometimes."
Daffodils, his mind says. Daffodils, bluebells, sweet peas. Respect, gratitude, goodbye.
The watcher scowls. He doesn't have time to be thinking of flowers, he has to watch the graves and the people who come to visit. There can be no disturbances in the graveyard - all must visit or rest in peaces, living or dead. He turns to his partner, who is busy with a haggard mother of two. He sighs and turns back to the window. His mind has lately taken on the voice of his partner - it is not good, and he needs to distract himself from it.
"I'm going on my rounds," he calls to his partner. "Can you handle the place by yourself?"
His partner waves and nods, still in the middle of explaining to the mother the meanings of the roses while the two children amuse themselves by jumping on the patterned stone path.
He passes Kotomine on his way around. The man is on his knees, looking as if the world is crashing down around him. The watcher sighs and continues on his way.
The sky almost seems cruel today, he thinks. Such wonderful weather - plenty of sun, wind, it is as if the gods themselves are mocking him and his sadness.
Kirei stands in front of the grave. Despite the earlier visit, a thin layer of dust has already covered the grave, and already the carved words are not as sharp and defined anymore. Rin didn't like coming here, it reminded her too much of what she had lost - her entire family. She came as customary to pay her respects, to tell her father how she was doing, to tell her how Sakura was doing, to talk about how her mother was doing-
"She's getting worse, Father. I don't think she'll be here much longer, so if she leaves when I'm not there, please tell her I said goodbye. Sakura's doing well, she seems to have made friends, and she even has a crush. I'm doing fine. Kirei says he's proud. I think he's a jerk. But he's all I have, so I guess I'll put up with him."
-and now, to visit her mother too, who lay buried next to Tokiomi. The white marble gravestone is already robbed of its purity - it has become a murky, confused, otherworldly gray that sits next to the carved granite gravestone with moss that is Tokiomi's.
Kirei kneels down in front of the grave.
"Aoi-san," he greets the grave to his right. Aoi's grave is already covered with flowers - white carnations, pink carnations, even striped carnations, heather, the list goes on, along with various small magic trinkets - protection, love. Tokiomi's gravestone is similarly covered. Rin thinks Kirei is oblivious to how much time she takes. Kirei knows. He knows that the monthly allowance he gives her is carefully, almost obsessively saved for the flowers and trinkets. She is so devoted to this that she rejects so many offers to go to the arcade, or to the ice cream shop, or to other girls' houses. Using this money and time, she can choose the magic jewels she uses for the charms and trinkets, so she can weave flowers together in intricate symbols, into magic circles, even, without the stems snapping or bending at strange angles. The girls gossip, the boys gossip, the teachers - everyone speaks about Rin or of Rin, but no one speaks to Rin. It is the price Rin has paid, and she seems to have paid it all too willingly. She is an ice queen, cold, precise, and polite to a point, hiding behind a perfectionist mask she has built up far too quickly and far too skillfully. Sometimes Kirei looks at her and wonders if he should intervene, tell her to make friends, to go out and enjoy life like a carefree girl once in a while. Then he looks at himself, a twisted man who only has immorality to cling to, who could not bring himself to love, and steps back.
She is the spitting image of her father, he thinks. Having a kind side, which she shows to her loved ones, and have a cold, perfectionist side, which she shows to everyone else. When he stands behind her and watches her handles the Mage's Association with an ease the greatest politicians would be jealous of, when he watches her create delicate models out of jewels (the horses are the best, the most life like), and when he watches her work with the magic crests with such skill, he can't help but smile and say, "That was fine work, Rin. You are your father's daughter, in mind and body."
He hopes she took that as a compliment, not as something that makes him seem like he is just merely pretending to be a fatherly figure to her nor as something to remind her that her beloved father is dead.
Kirei reaches forward and wipes the thin layer of dust off the cross. It leaves a smudge of filth on Kirei's hand, and he promptly takes out a handkerchief to wipe away the tiny particles. A soft wind sweeps through the area, finding its way around the grave and through the strands of Kirei's hair that he had grown longer within the year.
Kirei kneels down before the grave, and traces the engravings of Tokiomi's name with sincere affection.
There will be a few years left, Kirei thinks. A few years before they will need to be recut.
"You were a good teacher," Kirei finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Even if you didn't really teach me so much as use me, you were still my teacher, and you taught me things I find useful today. I am deeply grateful for all that you have taught me-" Kirei clutches the grave tightly, "-and you and your teachings-" he's shaking now, the rigid trembling of a man who does not want to cry but cannot help but cry, "-will forever remain in my memories and heart."
Having said what he wanted to say, Kirei rises up back onto his knees, still fighting the tears, and sighs, looking back up at the sky.
Such fine weather, he thinks. Perhaps the gods mock me after all.
Tokiomi was not what one would call a kind man. He was very aware of what he did, and why he did it. Growing up as a mediocre mage in a mage family as old as the Tohsakas meant that there was no room for unnecessary kindness - you took every advantage you had, and even the ones you didn't have. But for Kirei, he was kind. Tokiomi did not bother with empty words of congratulations, with idle conversations meant to whittle away the time. He hadn't bothered with going over things Kirei already knew.
"You already understand how to use them," Tokiomi said. "I'm going to teach you why they work."
So he said, and he'd done it, with a precision Kirei had rarely seen before. With the skill Kirei had, successes were frequent, and any errors were uncommon and extremely minor. There were constant smiles, nods of approval, and compliments, usually accompanied by a pat on the head. Kirei was sure that the shoulder was much easier to reach, but no. Tokiomi insisted on raising himself up on his toes and affectionately ruffling Kirei's hair, much to Gilgamesh's amusement.
(Of course, that stopped after, in a rare fit of strange drunkenness (Gilgamesh spiked the wine), Tokiomi instead patted Gilgamesh on the head and cooed at him.)
Kirei looks at the gravestone. He could almost see Tokiomi there, standing on the gravestone for no other reason other than to prove he could.
Kirei sighs again, and stares at the cheerful, oblivious sky.
Today is definitely a busy day. Kirei's visiting twice. Did something happen again? The last time he came twice, Rin was in the hospital from exhaustion...but she visited earlier, so she should be fine...the mansion, then? Or Sakura?
Tokiomi is dead. He understands that. He isn't particularly worried, after all. After a mage's death, if their magic circuits are strong enough, they simply wander the earth as spirits. He'd passed his father on the street just two weeks ago, and just the other day he'd seen his old enemy Emiya Kiritsugu leaning against house he'd built after the aftermath of the Grail War (there was a part of him that worried over the deaths, and a part of him that still yearned to have enough power to create such a firestorm).
He's dead now, and that's why he's currently balanced on his own headstone, staring as his former student tries not to cry on the his own dead (probably decaying) body.
Tokiomi watches as Kirei raises his eyes to stare at him. For a moment, a stupid, eager hope rises in his chest-
'He sees me? He sees me! Oh, I knew you were skilled, but-'
-before Kirei sighs and looks up at the sky as if he is asking God to help him.
It's futile.
It's stupid, it's useless, it will be completely in vain and all that will happen is a shudder and an uncomfortable feeling on both sides, but Tokiomi can't help but reach out a hand to try and rest a hand on Kirei's shoulder.
Just as he thought, Kirei jumps, and shudders briefly, but he quickly composes himself (much too quickly for an average person, but since when is Kirei average?) and faces the grave again. He raises the takeout bag.
"I brought some mapo tofu...the Lava-Lava Burning Night kind, the only one you'd eat. It's still pretty hot…"
Tokiomi chuckles softly to himself. I can't believe I didn't expect that. He did always enjoy it, eating it all the time...
"Is he eating that vile substance again? I can smell it from here."
"I wouldn't be surprised, milord. Ever since the shop opened up across the river he's been going back and forth buying it in bulk, almost."
"Really now? That shop's been there for how long?"
"Around five years, give or take."
A scoff. "He's really crazy about it. What does he even eat it for?"
"Perhaps he has a frozen heart and can't feel anything, like in the fairy tales."
"Oh, that? And I suppose the spiciness of the food fills the cold, empty void that is his missing heart?"
"Who knows? Perhaps he seeks to thaw his frozen heart."
The golden king laughs. "Hmph. Perhaps he seeks the pain that the spice brings to the taste buds. A punishment?"
"I do not know of anyone who would willingly seek pain for so long."
"You are the one who said he had a frozen heart and could not feel. I simply added onto it."
Tokiomi sighs. "For all our sakes, let us hope it is not true. A cold soul like that can only lead to a painful future."
"Do you speak from past experience, Tokiomi? Or are you predicting the future?"
Kirei sits back on his knees.
"You're probably laughing at me right now. Probably doing that little chuckle you do when I messed up something very minor, but I still panicked over it."
Tokiomi stops laughing.
Right now, he realizes, Kirei is trying to imagine him here. He's never done it before, just quietly, respectfully, reservedly, greets him and stands back while Rin does all the updating. Rin is the one who talks to Tokiomi as if he is sitting on the gravestone, listening. Kirei does not do much other that the customary funeral actions, and he even averts his eyes, sometimes. Always in the direction of the wind, Tokiomi thinks.
Always in the direction of the wind, so he can blame his tears on the wind.
Tokiomi sighs. The poor man. First he takes his teacher's life, then he (indirectly) takes his teacher's wife's life, and he's also sapping away the daughter's life too (Tokiomi know how long it takes to weave flowers into magic circles - he's not stupid).
"Ah."
Tokiomi jerks to attention.
Kirei gives a weak smile. "I don't think you can physically eat it...so I'll just eat it for you."
Despite himself, Tokiomi laughs. A weak, crazy laugh, but a sincere laugh. He watches as the man practically inhales the food-
"Perhaps he seeks the pain that the spice brings to the taste buds. A punishment?"
-and watches as the man finishes and sets down the takeout container.
Then, with the sun shining in the sky, Tokiomi stands there, on his gravestone, and watches his beloved student break down in tears in front of him.
The breakdown, Tokiomi thinks, is strangely very characteristic of Kirei.
There were tears. There was shaky breathing. There were all the things a normal person would do, but it was strangely distorted, as if the man himself could not even bring himself to cry wholeheartedly.
It was...stunted. And it was abruptly, forcibly cut short, as if Kirei had simply opened a door and let out his emotions, then thought better of it and slammed the door shut.
"I can feel sorrow now."
What? Tokiomi whips his head back. Kirei is standing now, carefully brushing himself off.
"I think I feel sorrow now. I think I also feel regret." Kirei looks at his hand. It does not tremble. He takes out a mirror and studies his face. It has not changed at all. Nothing looks like it has changed, yet his throat is clenching and there is an uncomfortable weight in his stomach. He knows that feeling well. The last time he felt that was when his wife died, when he was sad that she was dead, when he regretted the fact that he could not kill her himself, that he could not be the one that controlled how quickly or how slowly the life bled out of her body and the shock in her eyes turned to pain and betrayal, before fading away completely.
But this is different. This is the first time he regrets what he has done, not what he did not do.
It is a new feeling.
Kirei doesn't like it.
He sighs, a tired, defeated sigh. What has been done cannot be changed, and he is not going to wait to ask the Holy Grail for such a wish. It can only end badly.
Quietly, he picks up the empty container and deposits it in a nearby trashcan.
He turns to the gravestone and bows low.
"I will admit that I regret my actions. You were a kind teacher, Tokiomi-shi...kinder than I deserved. Thank you. I am forever grateful."
Kirei turns and walks towards the entrance to the graveyard. He does not jog.
Tokiomi stands on his gravestone and watches him go. He does not follow him.
Kirei...The next time I see you, you'd better not be like me.
Extra: Aoi's Funeral
There's a commotion. Tokiomi glances up from where he is sitting on his gravestone, studying Rin's latest flower creation. She's replicated those jewel magic circles he showed her right before the War started, and in the middle is a crystal water lily, mean to show enlightenment, if the lady at the front is right. In addition, Rin, the little perfectionist she is, has also woven charms throughout the magic circle and the lily itself to protect against thieves.
In the distance, he sees the tall figure of Kirei and beside him, Rin. They're both dressed in black - Kirei is in his usual gear, but he carries a small book and is leading a group of men, with a center group bearing a coffin. Rin walks next to him, clad in a black dress that goes a bit past her knees, and wearing black stockings and shoes.
Cold fear grips Tokiomi's heart. He doesn't have any colleagues that are particularly important or close to him. Neither Rin or Kirei are dead. Shinji is not present, so it cannot be Sakura…
It has to be Aoi.
Despite himself, he runs towards the procession at full speed, and skids to a halt.
The coffin is simple and elegant - it seems to be made of white pine (his was made of aspen), and it has be polished. There are detailed engravings over it, but nothing extravagant. The creator has obviously spent a long time carving it; it feels handworked, cared for.
Just like Aoi.
Tokiomi pauses, then moves up to walk in front of Kirei and Rin. He leads the procession to his grave. As they approach, Kirei moves to stand behind Tokiomi's gravestone, and the men not carrying the coffin move to either side of the grassy plot and start digging. Rin sits quietly on the bench across the pathway and watches the scene with a detached air.
Tokiomi knows it's a coping mechanism. He knows, because it was the exact same look he had on his face when his parents died - his cousin had told him that he had "the strangest look on your face, Tokiomi, as if you were not in your body." He'd seen it again when Tokiomi announced that Sakura was being adopted by the Matous - Aoi had simply pressed her lips together and accepted it. Sakura had bit her lip and tried not to cry when Byakuya came to take her away, but Rin had coolly stared at everyone, a blank look on her face. Byakuya had obviously been unnerved by it - he had a permanently uncomfortable look around him, made even more uncomfortable by Rin's stare.
He know there is nothing he can do - so he crosses the path and sits down next to Rin, and watches his wife get buried. Aoi won't be joining him - any magic circuits she has are not strong enough to keep her in this world. Besides, the damage that was done to her in the church would still be with her - it would not be a good life.
He remembers that very well - it was one of the first things he'd seen. He'd jolted awake in the church and started to examine his surroundings, only to see his own dead body sitting on the bench beside him. That was when he decided that yes, I am dead, and yes, Kirei did really stab me, that man really was too crafty for his own good. He'd watched Kariya come in and wondered how he was still alive, then watched as he discovered Tokiomi's dead body and leaped backwards in shock. Then the door had opened and Aoi had come in, and assumed that Kariya had killed Tokiomi. A logical assumption, Tokiomi thinks. If he'd walked in on Kirei standing over the body of Aoi he would've suspected Kirei too. The big shock was when Kariya violently strangled Aoi - that he did not expect, with Kariya being her beloved childhood friend and all.
"-May she rest in peace. Amen."
With a jolt, Tokiomi realized that he had zoned off throughout the entire service. Looking to his side, Rin did not seem to have listened either - her eyes were shut, her hands over her ears. A shadow fell over them, and Tokiomi looked up to see Kirei looming over them. Kirei placed a hand onto Rin's head.
"Rin. It is time to go."
Rin stood up. "Ok." she said in a subdued voice. "Let's go."
Tokiomi sat there on the bench and watched as the pair left, then, quickly after, the remaining group of people, as if Kirei was the only thing that held them there. He turned to the freshly buried grave next to him.
"Hello, Aoi. It's been a while. How have you been?"
If he tried hard enough, he could almost see Aoi smile and him and hear her answer.
EXTRA #2
Tokiomi wasn't sure why he came to attend his own funeral. He supposed it was normal for a ghost to want to see himself getting buried, out of some sort of morbid curiosity. In hindsight, he'd probably gone overboard with his observing - he watched as Kirei noted down his cause of death as "Died from stabbing by Master of Berserker - Matou Kariya", then called emergency services for Aoi. He listened as Kirei informed Rin's school of the news, then the funeral services, then the hospital, then Rin, again, who was now waiting at the school office and on the verge of a breakdown. He even followed Kirei to his car and slipped into the back seat as the priest drove to Rin's school, and stayed as they visited the hospital. He watched everything happen, up until the death of his wife.
Kirei awkwardly stood by the door and let Rin squeeze her mother's hand and cry for a few minutes. The sobbing didn't last long - Kirei didn't expect it too, but it lasted for longer than he'd thought.
When the doctor came, looked in, and politely moved to the side to wait, Kirei placed a hand on Rin's shoulder.
"Rin, we need to leave. The doctor needs to look over your mother to make sure she will stay stable."
Rin showed no sign of acknowledging him.
"It's fine," said the doctor. "I can wait a few minutes."
"Thank you for your kindness," said Kirei, "But it's no problem. Her health is our top priority, after all."
He bent down and picked Rin up. He nodded to the doctor.
"Then, we'll leave her in your care then. Thank you."
"Ah, yes…"
Aoi didn't take very long to recover, but when she did, it was clear that the damage was irreversible. Kirei immediately sent her back to her parents house with Rin, then conducted a quick burial for Tokiomi - after all, they were still in the middle of a war. A proper funeral could be conducted later. When he returned, he proceeded to "Rin-proof" all the parts of the house that held things that she shouldn't see, including all pathways leading to the wine storage and the rooms Gilgamesh frequented - the Servant was awfully possessive of anything he took an interest to, and even if it was a completely accident, Gilgamesh would probably find some sort of way to deal out divine punishment upon the young Tohsaka heir - something Kirei had no desire to happen.
As he soon discovered at the end of the Fourth Holy Grail War, he was right - Gilgamesh was more than capable to wreaking havoc and divine punishment if the opportunity came to it, and Kirei was most definitely not capable of defending himself against a wrathful, demigod with a storage of at least a couple hundred swords, axes, and whatever else the king took a liking to.
Rin left her grandparents' house to live with him, and she brought Aoi with her. The grandparents had assigned Aoi a hired nurse to care for her, as Aoi hadn't gotten any better - she was under the illusion that she was happily married with a loving husband and two children.
It took two weeks before the doctor cleared Aoi for travel around the area, and the day after, Kirei took them to see Tokiomi.
Tokiomi leaned against the wall. It had been raining for most of the day, and the cold, pelting rain had finally forced him to take shelter under the roof by the front of the gate. He didn't get wet, but there was something distinctly unsettling from watching rain pass through your hand, and when it did, it felt like a torrent of icy-cold needles. Rather painful, especially on one's head.
"Ah, look, it's the Tohsaka family." The watcher spoke from behind him, and Tokiomi jumped.
"You can see them from this distance?" asked the flower seller next to him.
"Kotomine called and said he'd be bringing the girl's mother. He asked if the ground was too slippery for a wheelchair, and I said it was fine. And if you look over there-" Tokiomi and the flower seller both looked at the same time, one behind the other, "-then you'll see the shape of an umbrella over a wheelchair. They're the only people who would be coming with a wheelchair, so it has to be them."
As the group approached, the bulky shape of the wheelchair could be seen, with Kirei walking beside the wheelchair holding his own umbrella in one hand and an object wrapped in bandages in the other.
"Ah, Kotomine. Welcome." said the watcher.
"Good afternoon, Kotomine-san," said the flower seller. "Will you be making a purchase today?"
Kotomine gave a smile and shook his head. "Not today. It's just a quick visit, Aoi-san can't afford to catch a cold right now, when she's recovering."
"That's a shame. My condolences, I hope she gets better soon."
"Rin, why are we at the graveyard?"
Everyone stopped to regard the speaker. Rin had stopped pushing the wheelchair, and her hands shook as she struggled to compose herself.
"It's...it's to visit Father. He's...he's dead, Mother. Father is dead."
"It's someone's funeral, is it…" She turned to the side as if to look at the flowers, and saw Tokiomi standing there. Their eyes met. For a moment he thought she was merely looking past him. But after staring a bit longer, he realized that she was indeed looking straight at him, like she could see him.
"Ah, dear! Come here, your tie is crooked!"
Tokiomi wasn't sure how he managed it, but somehow he walked over to the wheelchair. Aoi was there to meet him, her arms reaching for his tie. Unfortunately, her hands passed through his chest, making him feel like he had a strange lump in his chest. He reached up and fixed his tie himself. Satisfied, Aoi sat back in her wheelchair.
"Really now, dear! You should pay more attention to yourself! You're the Tohsaka head after all, and my handsome husband! See, look at Rin and Sakura!"
Tokiomi obediently looked where she was pointing. Rin stood alone behind the wheelchair, a look of pity on her face. He nodded approvingly and tried to smile.
"Yes, Aoi. They look very beautiful."
Aoi smiled and turned to look proudly at Rin.
"Ah, Sakura isn't there..." She turned frantically. "Where could she have wandered off? Um...oh! She's across the street, with that Matou boy! Tokiomi, go and get her, maybe she's gotten lost and is asking him for help. She's never liked the idea of death, poor thing. Do you think Kariya is nearby? Maybe we could ask him to watch Sakura."
"Mother." said Rin. "Mother, it's time to go."
"Really? Then, Tokiomi, I'll leave Sakura to you!"
Tokiomi smiled again. It was harder this time.
"Of course, Aoi."
And as he walked away through the pelting, painful, rain, he heard Kirei speak.
"Rin. This is for you."
"What is it?"
"An Azoth dagger."
Tokiomi froze. He slowly turned around to see Rin unwrapping the bundle Kirei was holding.
"My teacher...your father gave it to me when I finished my tutelage under him. I think it is fitting that you should receive it to use in your battles. A memento from your father, so to speak."
"F-Father…"
Tokiomi stood in the rain and watched his daughter cry.