Author's note: Despite my best efforts, is not forgiving when it comes to formatting, even spacing. As a result, it is not kind to poetry, and I'm afraid the quoted works are a bit massacred - if you're interested in them, they really do deserve to be seen in their original formatting as intended by their authors. But then they also deserve not to be mentioned in this trashfire of a fic, so maybe a little late for that, hah.

Sunlight from the warm afternoon filtered down through the high windows of the Tohsaka manor's library, catching stray dust motes that hung in the still air. Rider let her fingers glide across smooth spines as she wandered the shelves. She breathed in the faint smell of old but well-cared for books, musty with a hint of vanilla. It was all too easy to lose herself among them, a small but comfortable harbour in the frantic, noisy ocean of the modern world.

The peaceful silence was broken only by the occasional grunt from the other side of the room. Rider glanced over her shoulder to watch as Rin searched through her family's books. The girl had already pulled down dozens, considering each in turn and muttering to herself before returning it to its place on the shelf. So far she had set aside a scant three volumes to accompany her to London.

Rider had readily accepted Rin's invitation to help her sort and pack for her studies at the Clocktower. Partly because she wanted to let Sakura and Shirou have some much-deserved private time, but also because she deeply loved books. Coming from a time when manuscripts were rare and jealously guarded by scribes, the opportunity to freely browse written works still brought her a thrill. The Matou library was one of the few things she could stand over in that hellhole, even though most of its tomes had been distasteful even to someone as (monstrous) jaded as herself.

The Tohsaka collection was also largely focused on magecraft, but there were also things of more interest to the Heroic Spirit. Numerous books on mythology (as perhaps expected of one of the Three Families), but also treatises on philosophy, mathematics and the natural sciences. There was even some fiction, novels and poetry in Japanese, German and English. Perhaps some of Rin's ancestors had more of a frivolous streak than the girl would care to admit.

It was while browsing in this latter section that Rider found her fingers pausing at a particular book, its spine adorned with the characteristic letters of the Greek alphabet. She hesitated before pulling it out, dreading a recounting of her own myth and the accompanying painful memories. To her relief, it proved to be a collection of works from the famed Nine Lyric Poets so esteemed by Hellenistic Alexandria.

The book was beautifully bound in gold-tooled leather of a rich reddish-brown. Flipping it open, she found thick paper bearing writing in the ancient Greek that her heart still ached for, accompanied by infrequent but beautifully illustrated scenes. Warriors and ships for Pindar's victory odes, family hearths for Sappho's works, the sunlit plains and gentle waves of her homeland.

She was eventually pulled away from her thoughts by a deep sigh behind her. She turned to see Rin lean against a shelf, absently rubbing her eyes.

"Before the War, I would have tried cramming whole suitcases with books," said the magus ruefully. "Scared to leave anything behind that could help give me a leg-up. Now it just doesn't seem that important anymore." She glanced at Rider, noting the volume that the spirit was still holding open in front of her. "Enjoying that?"

Rider paused, then gave the faintest smile. "Yes. It is… nostalgic."

"Take it then. It's yours," said Rin as she turned back towards the shelves. Rider's head snapped up to look at her in surprise, and then back at the book. She considered it for a long moment, turning it over in her hands to admire the gilded surface, before reluctantly shaking her head.

Rin sighed impatiently, correctly interpreting the silence even with her back still turned. "Magi always return favours. And I owe you for looking after Sakura. So take it already."

"It's beautiful, but it's unsuited to a monster," Rider demurred. She was keenly aware of the blood scent that lingered on her skin, of her unnatural stillness that discomfited the people around her. All marks of her past crimes – killing so many men that she grew to revel in their blood and agony, leeching life from innocents through her Blood Fort Andromeda, even going to far as to devour –

Pale alabaster skin, once shining radiantly in soft moonlight, now cruelly torn apart by venomous fangs; flowing lavender hair that was once the envy of gods and men alike, now trailing in gore and entrails; loving eyes now lifeless and cold, while furious jaws still thrashed away to snap up every last morsel –

– devour her own sisters. She felt a violent shudder run through her as the old self-loathing bubbled up in her throat like black ichor. Nor could she pretend that it was all in the past, because she knew that even now, she would kill, and kill again, for Sakura's sake.

"Is that how you see yourself?" murmured Rin to herself, so low that even Rider's acute senses had trouble picking it up. Then the magus turned to glare at her, her voice taking a familiar sharp edge. "Stop being stupid. I'm going to make sure you take it, so stop wasting time and just accept it."

"I lost my mind! I killed my sisters! I don't deserve something like this," Rider protested, her voice uncharacteristically hoarse as she choked on her grief and guilt.

Rin laughed harshly, without a trace of humour. "Then what does that make me? I was in my right mind when I tried to kill my little sister. And I neglected her for years before that. I was so damn focused on my own goals that I had no time or energy for her. So I lied to myself and told myself she was okay, even when she obviously wasn't." She took a deep breath against the trembling in her shoulders, before continuing in a softer tone, "While I was busy treating Sakura like the enemy, you tried to help her. You came to her call, you sympathized with her pain. You wanted to save her even if it meant becoming a monster again."

Rider shook her head, trying to push the words away, even though she couldn't say that they were entirely wrong. She didn't deserve the small wave of relief that accompanied them, the slight easing of the crushing burden of her self-hatred. "But you didn't kill her, in the end," she argued. "And I did kill my sisters, even when they were trying to help me."

"I can't speak for your sisters, or say how they felt about that. But as an older sister, I think I'd want my little sister to be happy, no matter what." Rin looked determinedly away as she pulled another book from the shelf, a faint redness colouring her cheeks. It appeared the young magus was as uncomfortable as ever talking about her own feelings.

After a long moment, Rin huffed irritably. "Anyway, stop calling yourself a monster. It's annoying. You and Sakura aren't monsters, and you aren't just victims either. You're survivors." She glared at Rider with an intensity that took even the spirit momentarily aback. "And you're both allowed to be happy. No, you deserve to be happy. So take the goddamn book already."

The words lanced through Rider, filling her with unexpected warmth. She still had doubts of course; mere words, however kindly intended, could not undue a lifetime of rage and pain. But still they comforted her; a lamp that sent out a ray of light, however thin, into the darkness of her heart. Rider wanted to eat those words whole, wolf them down so their soft heat could suffuse her body.

And as she gazed down at the magus, letting her eyes roam from midnight tresses and piercing aqua eyes, down along smooth curves to the tips of elegant toes, she felt another hunger growing inside her. She had always thought Rin beautiful, so much so that she had gladly adopted the girl's form to tempt Shirou in his dreams. And while that memory was pleasant enough, she now wanted to touch that lithe body herself; to draw comfort from the heat of her flesh.

Rider stepped towards her prey, lightly and slowly but with measured intent. The girl seemed to sense the change in her mood and peered up at her, blue-green eyes wide with curiousity and a touch of apprehension. Taking advantage, Rider quickly closed the distance and boldly laid her hands on the girl's arms. She could feel the warmth of the skin underneath even through the material of the sweater.

Rin's breath hitched, but she otherwise stayed planted to the spot, paralyzed under the spirit's gaze as if the glasses binding her Mystic Eyes were so much air. Rider let her fingers glide upwards, over shoulders and the trembling pulse in the girl's throat, before finally letting them come to rest on each side of her face. The sensation was stronger than she had expected, the feel of smooth warm skin and living blood flowing just under its surface. However much control she had in the dreamlands, she couldn't entirely prevent a certain haziness of impression; even the most intimate of touches felt like it was being experienced through several layers of gauze. Here in reality, things felt clearer, sharper, and disarmingly present. And if a little frightening after all her distant centuries, it was also undeniably exciting, intoxicating. She wanted more.

Rider moved to brush her fingers over soft lips when Rin finally moved, recoiling backwards from her touch. The spirit paused in the face of the unexpected reaction, then stiffened as she felt ice settle in her stomach. Of course Rin wouldn't want to share this. It was one thing to offer kind words to a monster, another thing entirely to let said monster touch you.

She began to pull away. Then Rin leaned back in and gently pressed her lips to the spirit's.

The predator in Rider immediately flared up, grabbing the girl firmly around the shoulders to prevent any escape. At the same time she hungrily returned the kiss, turning what had begun as a tentative exploration into a heated thing of tongues and teeth. She eagerly pressed Rin back against the shelf, raising a knee aggressively between the girl's thighs. She smiled when she encountered damp cloth, the sweet scent of lust.

Rin was a blaze of fire, welcoming warmth and searing heat all at once. Rider knew that she would end up burnt if she was careless, lashed by Rin's vengeful streak and vicious talents, but right then she didn't care. She wanted to claim that blaze, swallow it whole to feed the heat that was growing between her thighs.

She ground her leg upwards against Rin's core with wicked intent, smiling when the girl gasped and instinctively pushed her hips down in response, rubbing herself on Rider. Then the girl slid downwards against the shelf, her legs growing weak in the face of sensation. Rider eagerly followed her down and tugged at her limbs, spreading her out on red carpet. The girl hazily blinked up at her, ebony hair in disarray, eyes dark with awakened desire, and Rider felt her mouth water at the feast laid out before her.

If only it wasn't partially covered by unnecessary clothing. Fortunately, that annoyance was easily taken care of. A few fluid motions let Rider slide easily out of hers, revealing a toned athletic body that more than met with Rin's approval, if the latter's admiring gaze was any indication. Resisting the urge to smirk, Rider sat the girl up a bit and smoothly pulled up sweater and undergarments alike, revealing creamy white skin that her fingers longed to touch. Rin didn't protest, too busy letting her eyes trail along the spirit's body before lingering on her full chest. Rider smiled indulgently even as she hooked her fingers in the girl's skirt and tugged firmly down, dragging soaked panties along with it.

There now, that was much better. Rider drank in the enticing flush that spread along Rin's bare body, giving a delightful colour to the lean muscles of her arms, the appetizing curve of her hips. And especially her chest, where rose-coloured nipples were already hard and begging for contact.

Without hesitation she reached out and palmed the soft mounds, eliciting a gasp and a full-body shudder from the magus spread out underneath her. She gave each a soft squeeze before rolling and pinching the nipples with practiced skill, drawing out low moans that were like music to her ears. But more, she needed more. She needed to fully possess her, claim her body and mind, if only for this brief span of shared desire.

Obeying her instinct, Rider kept kneading the girl's breast with one hand while she let the other trail down, over the warm flesh of her stomach and pelvis, to rest between trembling thighs. Soft dark curls were already damp with arousal, the girl's scent thick and sweet like honey. Rider purred in approval as she let her fingers tease along slick lips, enjoying how wet Rin was for her. How clearly the magus wanted her too, even if she was too proud to verbally say so.

Rin's breath came in harsh gasps now, even as her legs parted to give Rider better access. The spirit bit down lightly on the girl's shoulder as she pushed two fingers into swollen flesh. Rin shuddered with pleasure, then buried her nose in long lavender hair, as if to hide her flushed face.

Rider deftly curled her fingers to stroke inner walls. Gently at first, then rougher and deeper as Rin's core began tightening around the long digits. More fluids coated her fingers, and now they were sliding effortlessly into her partner's depths, drawing out gasping moans. She moved her thumb upwards to brush against Rin's clit, circling it with the same intensity, even as she let her other hand wander down from the girl's breast to firmly grip her hip. And now she could feel heat with every glide of her fingers across smooth skin, every stroke inside that hot wet core. As if there was a fire burning inside the girl and spilling out to envelope Rider, hot and fierce and desperate.

She flinched in surprise when she felt tentative fingers slip between her own thighs, lightly caressing before plunging in, bringing delicious friction with them. Rider ground shamelessly against them as she moaned in pleasure against Rin's shoulder, feeling arousal curl ever tighter in her center. There was only one thing missing to make this perfect, and her hunting beast could smell it right under her mouth. Just a taste, and she would truly claim the slender body trembling below her.

Without waiting for her rational mind to kick in, Rider followed the scent to where the vein was most exposed under soft skin. She bit down, just hard enough to draw blood. The warm coppery taste she craved filled her mouth, carrying with it undertones of sweetness and just a hint of ozone. There was a sharp hiss of pain from Rin, but it was quickly lost in her strangled moans as Rider's fingers picked up the pace just that little bit more.

The girl's fingers spasmed, then redoubled their own efforts. And now their shared heat was growing stronger still, more intense as they both approached their peaks, but Rider was enjoying teasing out every last bit. After so much time hiding in darkness, it felt like awakening to the sun.

Rin crested first, clutching at Rider and shuddering as each wave of pleasure rolled over her. That sweet surrender helped push Rider into climax herself, white-hot pleasure that shot through her mind and left her gasping for breath.

They lay quietly together after the pleasure had subsided, sweaty and exhausted, Rider still on top of Rin. Two sets of ragged breathing echoed through the silence of the library. Eventually Rider slipped off and to the side before wrapping her arms around the other's shoulders to pull her closer.

To her surprise, Rin didn't resist. At first the spirit figured she must just be too tired to protest, but then the girl curled in and quietly- affectionately – carded her hand through long lavender tresses. She stopped when she noticed Rider looking at her, pulling away and sitting up.

There was a long silence as the two of them looked at each other awkwardly, before Rider broke the silence. "I'm sorry. About the bite."

"Bite nothing," snorted Rin. "You should apologize for my shoulders. I'll be feeling that carpet burn for a week." She tentatively reached out and ran her fingers along the edge of Rider's glasses, obviously wanting to pull them off but knowing better. Eventually she sighed. "Look, I … didn't hate it. But we can't do this again."

"Sakura," whispered Rider to herself, as an unpleasant weight settled in her stomach. Her master, the girl that she had sworn to protect, and with whom her first loyalties must always lie. She had gotten swept up in the moment, hadn't paused to think about how her master would feel about what had just transpired. Would she see it as a betrayal?

"Yeah," Rin agreed after a moment. "She finally escaped from her nightmare, got together with Shirou after years of pining for him. She can finally be happy. And the first thing I do is try to steal her servant away. God, what kind of big sister am I?"

The magus reached for her sweater and started pulling it on, then groaned when a thought seemed to occur to her. "… masters and servants dream of each others' lives, don't they? Argh, I really hope Sakura doesn't end up dreaming about this." She shook her head in self-reproach, before glaring at Rider. "This never happened."

Rider nodded in agreement.

And that should have been the end of it.

A few months later found Rider sitting behind the counter at the antique store on a lazy winter afternoon. Business was generally slow when the wind blew colder, which left the spirit with plenty of time to smuggle in some reading. It unfortunately also left her with equally plenty of time for stray thoughts.

She wasn't really helping herself by lingering over the poetry book that Rin had given her, revisiting favourite verses and breathing in the faint musty scent of the Tohsaka library that still clung to the pages. She had found herself indulging in this kind of ill-advised reminiscing more and more often over the last few weeks. Fortunately Sakura didn't seem to have noticed, absorbed in her new life with Shirou. Even during that awkward send-off at the airport when they had seen Rin off, and Rider had startled herself with how badly she had wanted to snatch the girl up, before she slipped away seemingly forever. But she had restrained herself, Rider was very good at restraint, and she was fairly sure that nobody had noticed.

Her quarry had escaped, and that was for the best. She should have been satisfied with that. But somehow, irritatingly, it gnawed at her. Rider had lain with many lovers, and she could easily coax someone new to her bed anytime she wished. Then why was she so hung up on raven hair and aquamarines?

She gazed down at the page for a moment, turning the thought over. Sappho considered love to be a battle, a hunt. And Rider was nothing if not an excellent huntress; her inner serpent screamed at her not to give up her prey without at least one last attempt at a strike.

After some consideration, she reached for the paper and ink under the desk. She would write the letter, the recipient would ignore it, and maybe her instincts would finally let her rest so she could move on. But try as she might, she found herself unable to put pen to paper. Even at the best of times, she found it difficult to express her feelings; the thought that this would be her first, and last, missive on the subject only made her mind tangle itself up all the more. The words wouldn't flow.

She sighed as her gaze strayed back to the open volume. She straightened as she skimmed over the verses again. Perhaps she could borrow some words, until such time as she could summon her own. Besides, she told herself to assuage any lingering doubts, it unlikely that Rin would actually read any of it.

She wrote down two brief lines and folded the paper into its envelope, ready to mail on her way home. It was odd, because although nothing had changed, she felt somehow just a touch lighter.

Rin greeted the letter on her desk with suspicion. The postmark was from Japan, and she could tell from a glance at the handwriting exactly who it was from. What could Rider want? She couldn't quite stop her heart from taking a small leap before wrestling it back down to earth. They had both agreed never to speak of that afternoon again. Which meant this had to be news about Sakura, or perhaps some occurrence in Fuyuki that required her attention as Second Owner.

She took a deep breath and opened it, blinking in surprise when she found only a few sentences on the paper. No, not sentences – citations.

Sappho, Ode to Aphrodite II, Stanzas 5-7

Percy Bysshe Shelley, Love's Philosophy, Stanza 2

Ode to Aphrodite? Love's Philosophy? Rin frowned. This had better not be what I think it is. Still, she should look up the passages, just in case this was some sort of coded message.

She didn't have the required books on hand, but it wasn't hard to obtain them in a campus with pretensions of culture. A short while later, the verses mocked her from where she had copied them out.

"What is your heart's desire, Sappho?

And who is in need of my gentle persuasion?

Vainly fighting the power of love?

Say who resists!"

"Make bold, take heart, for now if she flees,

Tomorrow she follows; now she refuses,

Tomorrow, submits; now hates, tomorrow

She loves and adores."

"Lady! Now I am newly released

My spirit soars, loosing my bonds,

Happy to go with Your mighty aid

Back to the battle."

And the second one:

"See the mountains kiss high heaven

And the waves clasp one another;

No sister-flower would be forgiven

If it disdained its brother;

And the sunlight clasps the earth

And the moonbeams kiss the sea:

What is all this sweet work worth

If thou kiss not me?"

"This… is definitely a love letter," groaned Rin. If an unusual one. And also a declaration of intent, of sorts. "Damn it Rider, we agreed that we can't keep going with this."

But she couldn't deny that she had been having dreams of flowing lavender hair, a lithe powerful body, continuing even into her waking hours. Or who was on her mind when she touched herself in the shower. A flush came unbidden to her cheeks.

Rin sighed. She really should ignore this letter. Although that might prompt Rider to write more. She forced herself to ignore the butterflies taking flight in her stomach at the thought – focus, damn it. Write back and tell her that you're not interested. Not to write you again. That was absolutely the correct course of action. Why, then, did her heart clench so painfully?

She looked at the letter again, then at the transcribed verses, and swore. "Damn it. What does that snake think she's doing?"

Rider placed another dish on the drying rack as she quietly hummed to herself. It was difficult to expel Shirou from the kitchen when there was any work to be done, even after a day spent cooking and cleaning. It was a minor miracle that he had allowed himself to be coaxed into accompanying Fujimura-san a little way down the street, and even then probably only because the fierce teacher had insisted on discussing something with him. Probably to do with his burgeoning relationship with Sakura, if the boy's blush had been anything to go by.

She heard the door open, and his familiar footsteps as came down the hall. He spoke quietly to himself as he sorted through the mail. "Phone bill… grocery flyer, I'll look at that later… huh, a letter from London. I should set it aside for Sa –" He paused and looked at the addressee again. "Nevermind, this one is for you," he said, with a hint of surprise in his voice, as he came over to hand it to her.

Rider put down her drying cloth and took the proffered letter. It was unmistakably addressed to her, with Rin's distinctive handwriting looking somehow a little sharper than usual, as if written in some degree of annoyance. The spirit smiled fondly – it was only too typical of the magus she knew – as she sat at the table and opened it.

She had fully expected to be told off by her erstwhile flame. Instead, she found a single line on the paper:

Richard Siken, Crush, "You are Jeff" 24 (Yale University Press, 2005)

Rider blinked, before she allowed herself a small smile. Could this be reciprocation? But no, she shouldn't get her hopes up. It would be just like Rin to make her look up a citation that would amount to a "fuck you".

She looked at the title again, and drew a complete blank. Not entirely surprising, as her interests generally ran to older literary works. This was not only a recent book, but an American publication. She would need to leave her usual comfort zone and venture into more unfamiliar bookstores and libraries to track it down. She wouldn't be surprised if that was entirely deliberate.

Still, a hunt was a hunt, and she would be lying to herself if she said that this one did not hold a certain amount of appeal. Rider made a mental note to make some additions to her schedule over the next few days.

"You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won't tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you've done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you're tired. You're in a car with a beautiful boy, and you're trying not to tell him that you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling, and you're trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you've discovered something you didn't even have a name for."

Rider found her answer in a book of same-sex poetry; written about male rather than female relationships, but probably still applicable to what Rin was feeling. It certainly communicated the hesitance, the sense of desperately wanting something while being afraid of it.

She smiled, her hunter's instincts flaring anew. Time to press her suit a little further.

Three days later Rider mailed her next letter, this time containing a single line:

Pablo Neruda, Cien sonetos de amor, "Love Sonnet XI",Editorial Losada (1959)

She couldn't help but smile at the thought of her quarry, and the verses that would soon be shared between them:

"I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.

Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day"

"I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,

the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,

I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,"

"and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,

hunting for you, for your hot heart,

like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue."

She received a reply only two weeks later.

Tyler Knott Gregson , Chasers of the Light, "Typewriter Series #2091", (TarcherPerigee, 2014)

Again the single line, but the writing was somehow softer, the tension gone from its strokes. She could smell a hint of jasmine from the folded paper. Perhaps this hunt wasn't as one-sided as she had originally thought. She was only more encouraged once she had found and written out the precious words:

"I would sleep with the thought of you,

with the silhouette

of a single memory, with the scent

left hours after you've touched

me.

I would lose myself in the folds

of your dress, the fabric

of the shirt you wore when you

fell asleep leaned against

my shoulder. Paint me

in the soft focus fog of your

tenderness, pull me from

myself."

Hyakunin Isshuu, Fujiwara no Sanekata, 51

How can I tell her

How fierce my love for her is?

Will she understand

That the love I feel for her

Burns like Ibuki's fire plant?

Adrian Mitchell, Come on Everybody: Poems 1953-2008, "Celia, Celia" (Bloodaxe Books, 2012)

When I am sad and weary

When I think all hope has gone

When I walk along High Holborn

I think of you with nothing on

The letters traveled back and forth regularly, carrying their carefully chosen directions that would guide their recipient to borrowed words of longing, of lust, and occasionally professions of love. Rider wasn't entirely sure what to make of this (courtship) game the two of them were sharing, even if she had started it. She wasn't even sure where she expected things to end, only that she wanted them to last as long as possible.

One day Rider was carrying in the most recent missive, eager to open it up and see what Rin had come up with this time, when she noticed Sakura's gaze following her. The normally cheerful girl's mouth was set in a tight line, her eyes dark with worry.

"Rider, can we talk?"

"Of course," said the spirit, frowning as she tried to think of what could be troubling her master. "Anything that is bothering you, you can always tell me."

Sakura smiled nervously. "I've noticed that you and Neesan have been writing to each other a lot. Please, be honest with me –"

Rider tensed. This was it, she should have known there was no hiding anything from her keen-eyed master, and now she was going to have to explain her entirely impure intentions towards her sister –

"- is something wrong with me?"

"What?" blinked Rider, entirely confused as her brain tried to catch up with the unexpected turn in the conversation.

"Is… is the Black Grail still growing inside me? Am I a danger, is that what you and Neesan have been discussing? Please! I … I don't want to hurt anyone anymore…" Violet eyes brimmed with suppressed tears as the girl looked at her desperately.

"No! No, nothing like that," Rider hurried to reassure her. "There is nothing wrong with you. Please, be at peace."

The girl gave her a weak smile, but she could still see the uncertainty and fear creasing that gentle brow. Rider felt her heart clench painfully at her master's distress. All this time, all that suffering, and still she worried about the harm she might do to others.

Rider knew she had to put her master's mind at rest, even if it meant letting some uncomfortable cats out of the bag. She sighed and bit the bullet, even as she felt a faint bit of colour rise to her cheeks. "My correspondence with your sister is… ah, of a personal nature."

"Oh," said Sakura softly, before her eyes lit up as the meaning of her servant's words sunk in. "Ooooh! I should have known, the way you two were looking at each other when we saw Neesan off." Her eyes took on a sly cast, one that was far too reminiscent of her sister's. That expression had become increasingly familiar in the months after the War. "Come on, let's hear all about it."

"You aren't angry?" asked Rider nervously.

"Of course not," said Sakura with a soft smile. "I've always wanted both of you to be happy, as happy as I am with senpai. And if you make each other happy, then that's great." She giggled. "Just don't get into any serious fights, okay? That would be really awkward for me to try and sort out."

"I'll certainly try my best," she said, scratching the back of her head awkwardly. Sakura smiled sympathetically – they both knew how difficult Rin could be at times.

"This is going to be fun," enthused Sakura after a moment. "Maybe we can go for double date with senpai? Oh, but Neesan won't be coming home until the holidays..."

"I'm sure we'll work something out," said Rider with a small quirk of her lips.

Sakura's warm acceptance was certainly welcome, but it also made Rider wonder if perhaps she should be looking at moving things deeper. Sharing sentiments through borrowed words was fine in its way, but no matter how lovely the poem, it never transmitted exactly what she meant to say. Exactly how she felt about the raven-haired girl, gone halfway across the world from her.

The obvious next step was to write her own words, risk laying all her own feelings bare. A love note, or perhaps a poem? But for all that she devoured words, she had very little experience in putting together her own.

She was still debating the issue the next day when another letter showed up, London postmark and all. It was unexpected, if of course welcome – they had fallen into a comfortable pattern, writing a letter then waiting for a reply, a process that generally took about two weeks all told. The letter's unexpected timing suggested that Rin had written it barely a day after sending her previous one, long before she could expect any sort of response from Rider.

Nervously she opened it, wondering what change this signaled – the end of their game, or perhaps the next step to something better? She was surprised to find a print-out of a flight itinerary, London to Japan, with the arrival date and time circled in red. An arrival date that was only two weeks away.

Her heart beat faster in anticipation as she unfolded the accompanying letter. Just a single sentence, not even a citation.

I want to see you.

Rider had read miles' worth of books, scoured through untold libraries, read the most touching works of poetry and philosophy. But those five words were still the loveliest she had ever read.

Author's note: What I even writing? I'm going to have to face it, I am trash that writes femslash trash. I know I previously said next fic I wrote, I would put the smut upfront to get it out of the way, but does it count if it's a one-shot?

I'll admit that this isn't my OTP – I'll go on shipping Rin with Luvia to my dying day – but this plot bunny just wouldn't let go. And try as I might, I couldn't really make it fit our favourite Finnish magus. Whatever else you can say about Luvia, she never has any trouble expressing herself.

As always, comments and feedback more than welcome.