Chapter Thirteen

Raising Happiness

Kiritsugu chewed absently on his lip as he contemplated the dark above him as he did math in his head. Irisviel was sleeping, and thankfully very peacefully so, in his embrace. Ilyasviel slept peacefully too in her bassinet. There was only the cadence of the howling wind outside, but that wasn't what was keeping Kiritsugu awake, it was the math.

In truth, being that the next War's cycle wouldn't be for another sixty years, and with the distortions in Ilyasviel's growth rate, he knew that logically speaking, it was doubtful he would outlive his daughter. More it was the fact that even so, she wouldn't have a choice in the matter, and anymore, dying in one's sixties—even late sixties—rarely happened, and was actually considered a rather young age at which to pass on.

That said, in reality he had to keep his priorities in order. The main objective wasn't changed: win the Fourth War at all costs. If he could do that...Ilya and he could at least...

Besides, if there was no Fifth Heaven's Feel thanks to the wish he would have the Grail grant for him, it could be that the adjustments to Ilya's embryo in Irisviel's womb would act accordingly and be nullified in respect to her lifespan. After all, a homunculus was, unlike a human being, more of a cluster of Magic Circuits that took a humanoid appearance. Ilya was even more unique than any human or homunculus, being that she was born like a human and possessed human DNA as well as the genetic material of her original progenitor, Justeaze von Einzbern. So even as she would grow (even if it was stunted) like a human, she was at the same time born with knowledge and memories of magecraft from Justeaz and her homunculus foremothers (like Irisviel had been), so she would probably already be adept at performing magecraft once she could manage it at a physical level.

That being the case, he felt for once like the level of uncertainty was freeing rather than a burden, as it normally was. Because he didn't know what could happen, there was just as much chance that Ilya would be truly saved from fate as there was chance that she wouldn't.

He only wished…he could put it into words…for Irisviel to hear….

He quit chewing his lip and heaved a sigh, burrowing gently into his wife's hair as he held her closer. She made a small sound in her sleep, but was otherwise undisturbed, and he soon fell asleep awash in her lovely iris scent. He allowed himself the pleasure of dreaming just a little of what kind of future he could have with Ilya. He supposed, since he would no longer need to be an assassin, he would find some simple life for them in Japan perhaps. He had a feeling that Irisviel might like that for her daughter, to be raised by him in the country where he was born. Really, it didn't exactly matter where they went, for he already knew that wherever the two of them could be together, the two of them would both be happy.

Shortly after he fell asleep in fact, Ilya woke him and Irisviel with her cries to be fed, and though they were both tired, they wouldn't have traded a moment of it for anything, as the two of them sat up together while Irisviel nursed their precious daughter.

"What did I tell you?" Kiritsugu joked, gently pinching Ilya's tiny foot between his thumb and forefinger in a playful way, amazed still at the smallness of her. "Not a moment's peace."

"Wrapped around her finger," Irisviel agreed.

There was still a slight melancholic edge to her voice, and Kiritsugu imagined that his wife couldn't entirely shake her fears that they would fail Ilyasviel. Though Kiritsugu shared her fears, such things were great motivators for him, whereas fear was still something Irisviel was new at it, even as she did her best to handle it.

Kiritsugu held her more tightly in the warmth of his arms. "I won't let that happen. I know it isn't easy to go on faith alone when you're scared for something this important, so I'll understand if what I say now doesn't really allay any of your doubts. I wouldn't blame you. I've lost that kind of faith myself."

Irisviel looked up at her husband. "Yes, you have, haven't you?" she agreed with even more sadness. She leaned into him while she went on nursing Ilya. "Even so, here you are trying to reassure me. I think that means something, and I'll hold onto those words with a hope all my own."

Kiritsugu felt a tender ache at her words, and the expression with which he regarded her reflected that. "Iri..."

It was moments like these Kiritsugu wished that just by holding onto Irisviel very tightly, he might be able to save her somehow. Still, he tried to find solace in the idea that it was enough that at least for this moment, he could be with her this way as she held their child.

"After all," Irisviel went on, "I told you I believe in you, didn't I?"

Kiritsugu laughed softly in the dark. "Yes, you did. So I'd best live up to that faith, hadn't I?"

For your and Ilya's sakes.

"What do you say then," he then suggested, "that we start on learning a little ice skating tomorrow?"

At this, Irisviel's face lit up the gloom of the night. "Really, Kiritsugu?"

"Really."

Irisviel was so ecstatic she could only sigh, and snuggled happily into him. Kiritsugu couldn't help feeling content himself, and he began to believe again in everything Irisviel had promised him in the power of the two of them loving each other this way. He tucked her head under his chin as he held her and the suckling Ilyasviel, and his heart reveled once again in the remembered ability and dream of being happy.

But as Kiritsugu's fondness for efficiency hadn't changed, his teaching Irisviel ice skating had an additional purpose to simply making her happy. It had to do with continuing her preparations for the Fourth Holy Grail War. Little as he wanted to think about it, he saw that it lifted Irisviel's spirits when he explained his additional motives behind it to her, indeed because it strengthened a new resolve in her to win for Ilya's sake. Indeed it strengthened that resolve in him too.

So in addition to exercises in learning ice skating, they returned as well to training in physical combat, and also how to use alchemy to its best advantage in battle. Kiritsugu quickly found that Irisviel was adept at an incantation that could morph whatever object she wished into whatever shape and purpose she wished. From there they devised a technique involving the use of her silver hair, since it was an ammunition resource readily available to her and one that no other mage would suspect she could use as a weapon in the course of a fight. Acht too took note of this, as it came up in the form of rare praise in battle strategy discussions.

And as before, Kiritsugu and Irisviel worked together as teacher and student as easily as they did husband and wife. From that alone, Kiritsugu found he was happy. Even with Maiya, as in sync as she was with him that she could act without having to always give her orders, with Irisviel, it was that and something more somehow. Like they could trust the other as if the other was in their position, and knew in either case the other would do the right thing without doubt. It was a level of intimacy that Kiritsugu knew he and Maiya would never share, even though they had worked together for far longer and shared similar blood-stained pasts.

"That's it, Iri," he praised as Irisviel brought a bush to submission with her hair magecraft alchemy. "Strike quick, don't give them a chance to blink or even breathe a single breath. And right at the moment when they think they're safe and let their guard down, even a little."

Irisviel raised an eyebrow at him over her shoulder. "You know, that's a pretty pointless bit of praise when my opponent is a bush."

"Yes, but your speed suggests you understand what's required of you to win." Kiritsugu's smile turned mischievous, much like his boyhood self. "How about taking me as your next target?"

"Oh." Irisviel covered her mouth with both her gloved hands, feigning being scandalized. "I couldn't possibly attack my beloved husband."

Kiritsugu shrugged, playing along. "You had no problem when I wasn't your husband."

"But back then I didn't realize I loved you."

"Ah. Still, I doubt you would hesitate if your life depended on it."

"No, you're right. Not now I wouldn't. If you were to strike at me now, like when we first met, I would block you. And if it were Ilya's life that depended on it, I think I might turn positively savage."

"You? Savage?"

But the playful smile Irisviel flashed him suggested that that would be a distinct possibility if circumstances warranted it.

With that in mind, Kiritsugu crouched slightly in a position of readiness, as he always did when they were working on combat.

"Shall we, then?" he invited.

But he had barely spoken when Irisviel struck, headlong, silver hairs flying and whipping the wind. Within a matter of seconds his wife had him bound by the wrists with those strong hairs, even after his valiant effort to fend off the flying eagle shape they had made in their initial attack on him. Falling to his knees, he admitted defeat.

Hands on hips, Irisviel laughed in triumph with her usual flair. "Ha, ha! So you concede and submit to my will, sir?"

Kiritsugu let out a loud laugh, bound as he was. "I have no choice, do I?"

"Don't answer my question with another question!" Irisviel reprimanded.

"Then yes, I surrender!"

"Excellent! Now I may do as I wish with you."

Kiritsugu looked up at her approach. "So what will it be? Questioning under threat of torture?"

"Only if you consider this torture." Irisviel bent over and touched her lips to his.

Something about the way Irisviel spoke to him with the power and authority of the victorious caused Kiritsugu's pulse to race faster as he responded to the kiss she offered. When they broke apart, they touched foreheads a moment before Irisviel undid the bonds tying her husband's hands together.

"If that's what you had in mind for me, I feel sorry for whatever enemy is at your mercy," Kiritsugu joked.

"Stop kidding, you wouldn't feel sorry for them," Irisviel accused.

Kiritsugu was about to get up once he was unbound when his wife pushed down on his shoulders, stopping him. She touched her forehead to his again, very solemn but full of love.

"Thank you," she whispered. "After this...with Ilya to fight for too...I'm not afraid anymore. I'm like I was before, but...better than that. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Now who's the one giving themselves too little credit?" Kiritsugu teased affectionately. But he too joined her in solemnity, reaching up and touching the side of her face. "You're welcome."

They stayed this way a little longer, and then at last Irisviel let her husband up, taking both his hands in hers.

"Shall we go again?" she asked.

"If you're up for it." Kiritsugu leaned in give her another kiss, only to receive a swift kick in the shin.

When he recoiled, Irisviel's playful smile was back.

"You let your guard down, so I struck."

Kiritsugu couldn't help a swell of pride, not to mention a little embarrassment on his part for having gone so easily fooled. "It would seem I've taught you well."

As far as the ice skating went, while that was indeed mostly for fun, it did lend itself as another tool to help improve and maintain both his and Irisviel's physical strength. For the most part though, it did serve as a breather as well. Irisviel's natural grace made her a perfect candidate for learning all the twirls and other performance moves involved, after she'd mastered the basics, but of course Kiritsugu, in his usual attitude of reservedness, was content to watch while he kept to doing simple laps around the frozen lake.

Still, at the end of the day, he always had it in him to give her at least one waltz on the ice, which usually ended with one of them losing balance in the abandoning rhythm of the dance, whereupon they'd fall laughing into each other's arms. And in the meantime, this all served as a fixed point for the passing days that were filled with how much Ilya grew, little by little. It seemed that before Kiritsugu's eyes, he would return each day to where Aloisia would be looking after Ilyasviel in his and Irisviel's absences. An upset Ilya would be returned to them, calmed and contented to be in his or Irisviel's arms, appearing to be just a little bigger than before. Then after a brief lunch, the afternoon would usually go with Kiritsugu returning to his office to work over the phone and computer with Maiya and his other various contacts outside the castle spying for him for the War. And then he would return to Irisviel and Ilyasviel in their room for dinner. Usually he would find Irisviel nursing Ilya, and that alone was enough to make him marvel at how much a tiny girl like her could eat.

One thing was clear though: Ilya was at her most content when she was under the watch of her parents. And Kiritsugu would be flat out lying if he said that he didn't feel happy pride whenever he came in to the sight of his wife and daughter together. And even more so when, for Irisviel's part, she began teaching herself lullabies with that lovely voice of hers.

"And then I can teach them to you," she told him as he sat with her by the fire in their room at the end of another long day, Ilya sleeping sweetly in her arms.

Kiritsugu shrugged off his usual suit jacket. "I'm...not much of a singer," he mumbled.

"Come now, you were fine when you were teaching me those Christmas carols."

"Yes, but to an infant's delicate ears, my voice would be too rough and upsetting, I think."

"Oh honestly. You're quite tender when you sing. In fact, if we changed your wardrobe to a...hmmm...tuxedo perhaps, you could pass off as an opera singer."

Kiritsugu felt the color rise rapidly to his face. He stared, stunned, at his wife a moment before coughing into his hand. "No, don't be ridiculous."

"Oh, I think you'd look very handsome in a tux," Irisviel cajoled, plucking at his shirt sleeve with a free hand.

"I'm fine with what I normally wear, Iri..."

"Very well, you win this battle but I won't give up the fight."

But Kiritsugu smiled fondly at the determination in his wife's spirit, much the same way he would smile no matter how many times Shirley would butcher the pronunciation of his name before resorting to calling him Kerry again.

And then Ilya opened her eyes and gave a tiny baby yawn as she woke up and shifted, wiggling around in her bunting, wrapped so lovingly in her mother's arms. Her red eyes found her father just as Irisviel was saying:

"At any rate, it'd still be nice if you'd sing to her. I can tell she likes the sound of your voice. I think she might even remember it from hearing it when she was still growing inside me."

Irisviel sounded absolutely thrilled at the possibility.

"That's not unlikely," Kiritsugu agreed with her, as he reached over and very carefully brushed Ilya's soft round cheek with his knuckle. "Ilya..." he murmured.

Irisviel chuckled.

"What?"

"You're besotted."

"Ah. Well. Maybe."

"Good. I'm glad."

Kiritsugu looked up at his wife. "Hm?"

Irisviel's eyes were overbright. "There'd be no point...if you didn't love her."

"I..." Kiritsugu felt his eyes grow hot with the threat of tears. Desperately, he shook his head. "Of course I love her. How could I not? She's..."

He still didn't understand it himself. But he took it as an affirmation that all this time he was still human, that he could love, that he must love, even given the high probability that he would lose that love...

Ilya...was his last hope...for a life after the War...after all he had suffered and would suffer undoubtedly...and the woman he loved dearly had given him that...perhaps that was enough to inspire such love for his first and only child. There didn't need to be any other reason apart from that.

And like her mother, Ilya was very cute. That much was clear from the start.

Indeed Kiritsugu watched his daughter grow as the days went on with great and loving fascination, and felt privileged to be there the day Irisviel stood their little daughter up on the floor and let her experiment with cruising, taking uncertain shaky little steps as she hung onto the furniture in their room, or the library, where the three of them liked being best. Even more so when he came to them in the library one evening after yet another long day, and Ilya, wearing a brand new little purple dress Kiritsugu had picked out for her, looked up at his entrance, and, giving a sound of happiness, positively beamed and let go of the chair she was holding onto entirely.

"Ilya!" Irisviel exclaimed, and lurched forward to catch her daughter in mid-fall.

But Ilya stumbled only once as she made the crossing several steps to her father before falling to her hands and knees, where she resorted immediately back to crawling, looking up at him with those great, bright, jewel-like red eyes.

Kiritsugu laughed when she reached his feet, and he bent over to scoop her up into his arms off of the floor.

"Look at that! What did I say? Eager as your mother. A few more tries and then you'll walk all on your own as if it's nothing." Kiritsugu pressed his daughter's small body close as she cuddled into him, his cheek against her soft head, taking in that sweet, violet scent that was uniquely hers, just as the scent of irises was uniquely Irisviel's. Then he turned his smile onto his wife, and she returned it, relieved that her daughter was unhurt. "But you know, if you don't let her fall now and then, she'll never learn."

Irisviel became meekly contrite, but maintained pride in herself as she took Ilyasviel in her arms when Kiritsugu handed her over to her, with Ilyasviel embracing her around her neck. "I know that. That won't stop me worrying for her." Her eyes drifted to her child with an unmistakable expression of loving pride. "Even so, I couldn't tell you what it means…to see her trying to walk like that."

"I understand. I think the best way to describe it…is as a positive affirmation…that our daughter can figure things out for herself, that she is strong, and that she'll be all right no matter what. It's good because it's kind of a relief we didn't even realize we needed until just now."

"Still…I can't help that niggling worry in the back of my mind despite that. But I suppose it can't be helped. And I'm glad for it. I couldn't rightfully call myself a mother if I didn't feel that way for my child's sake."

"And I would expect no less from you." Kiritsugu slid an arm around them both, as Ilya looked at him, red eyes wide with newfound, joyful wonder. With a small hand, she reached out to touch his face. So Kiritsugu leaned in so she could brush the tips of her tiny, soft fingers against his nose.

"Hm-hm."

"Does that tickle?" Irisviel asked on a giggle.

"A bit." Kiritsugu chuckled at the sensation.

Ilya gave another experimental smile. It seemed she was grasping onto emotions even more quickly than her mother, than most babies in fact. That and she already recognized her parents' faces, enough to look between them and distinguish the difference, one from the other, as she did now. And then she seemed satisfied in her own infantine way and gave a tiny yawn before snuggling into her mother, to which Irisviel responded by nuzzling her growing tuft of silver hair, which inspired Kiritsugu to hold her and Ilya closer to him, touching his lips softly to his wife's temple.

Despite his inexperience with children, Kiritsugu only now really felt any kind of surprise that he managed rather well as a father. Setting aside his insecurities that crept up now and then, that the blood on his hands and the fact that he would one day spill Irisviel's blood as well made him, fundamentally, unfit to be a father, in particular to Ilyasviel, day-to-day life, in the end, was in and of itself a distraction from such that its demands on his attention drew him into a happiness he wouldn't have otherwise allowed himself to feel so easily, and with that did what he could to make both Irisviel and Ilya as happy as he could. And of course there was the simple fact that, again, he wasn't about to punish Ilya for the sins he carried. That would have been a selfishness contradictory of his true nature, and indeed, when it came to loving someone, once he allowed it, he never held anything back if he could help it.

He did have a reserved attitude overall, that was just a result of his efforts to avoid getting emotionally close to anyone so he wouldn't have to suffer again and again the pain of his losses in the past. But in the solemnity of solitude, when it was just him, Irisviel, and Ilya, he could be far more affectionate than in the presence of anyone else. For example, when it was interrupted by a knock from either Aloisia, or one of the other maids, Kiritsugu would immediately withdraw into himself, so they would only see the cold facade that he'd presented to the rest of the world for so long. In that sense, combined with the little amount of time he knew he would still have with his family, it made every tender touch he gifted to his wife and child all the more precious.

Now, with Ilya falling asleep in her mother's arms, she and Kiritsugu left the library and returned to their rooms, where Irisviel put her down in her newly (and beautifully) built crib, tucking her in underneath the blankets with her usual immense loving care. Everything in her was as genuine as anything else. No one would ever think for a moment that Irisviel had assumed this personality because she felt that that was what was expected of her as a mother. She built this all for herself, but Kiritsugu knew that she wouldn't have been able to if he hadn't taught her love first, love for him and for herself. And that, happily enough, gave him another reason to feel even prouder of his wife, and prouder of his daughter for that matter.

As Ilya drifted off, Irisviel put on the finishing touch by sliding her little pacifier into her mouth so she could suck on it the way she liked to while she slept. Ilya was also absently tugging one ear, but that relaxed as she fell deeper asleep. In this respect, Kiritsugu was grateful on Ilyasviel's behalf for the blissful oblivion of sleep and developing dreams drawn doubtless from shapeless colors and patterns before her eyes, and all of them soft and happy. An extra shield against the true ugliness of the world.

Kiritsugu, for his part then, observed this all with great affection. And it softened, at least for the present, memories that would drift in and out focus that were so terribly full of not just his own pain but the pain he had seen others endure, whether it were the countless souls crying out as they were slaughtered en masse on the field of battle, or the fear that plagued them before the fighting would start, the desperate courage that proved to be in vain, the raw despair that followed, the flowing blood of so many corpses, the screams and the tears of grief and rage.

And he felt within himself all the greater drive to protect his daughter from all of that horror. If he could give her a pure life filled with as much happiness as he could, it could be the fulfillment of another dream he and his wife shared, even when Irisviel was gone. At the end of it all, he knew he would be the only person left who could and would love and protect Ilya.

Irisviel looked up from the sleeping Ilya and gave her husband the same loving smile. "She was less fussy this afternoon."

Kiritsugu tugged off his tie, feeling as he always did like he was removing a fetter from around his neck. "That's good."

"I think she'll end up like her father though," Irisviel teased, crossing over to him with her hands clasped behind her back. "Very particular about her attachments and all of that."

"Yes, but not for the same reasons, I hope," Kiritsugu admitted, taking Irisviel in his arms when she reached him. He hugged her, tightly and gently, enjoying the brief respite that came with it, stroking his hand through her hair. "Iri..."

Irisviel nestled into his embrace, sighing. "My love..."

"Do you know then," her husband went on, doing his best to hide the threatening crack in his voice, "that right now, I'm happy? Can I tell you that? That I'm happy right now, and not only that, but it doesn't even hurt this time?"

"Ah…Kiritsugu…."

Kiritsugu soon felt Irisviel's tears of happiness for him soak through the shoulder of his shirt sleeve, and of course he didn't care. If anything he held onto that feeling of happiness as tightly as he held onto her, for once able to completely shut out the constant, morose companion of his that was despair.

Now to say that Irisviel quickly grew overprotective of Ilyasviel to a fault was true enough too, and to the point that Jubstacheit's observation of it and how it affected her behavior with regards to him and the other Einzberns, Malte in particular, forced him to bring it up as a matter of concern, mostly in terms of whether or not this would at all hinder her ability to perform as the Grail Vessel in the coming War, since, though her skills in battle were growing more formidable each day she spent learning from Kiritsugu, she was perhaps in danger of coddling Ilyasviel a tad too much. At least for Jubstacheit's liking.

"I won't say that I'm not surprised to see this unprecedented change in you, Irisviel, and to be honest, it's noticeably increased your determination in your preparations for the War, of which I'm very proud. But Irisviel, you must not let your emotional attachments entirely cloud your thinking. Why do you think it is that we hired your dear husband as our trump card? We value his many ruthless talents, one of which is his ability to cut his mind off from his heart and think based purely on logic." Acht raised his eyebrows at Kiritsugu and gave a rare smile. "Something I try to create out of every one of my homunculi, and yet, I suppose you being born as a human is really the only way to create a perfect fighter like you. Which is why Ilyasviel's birthing was such a fortuitous concept, and with that said I'm eager to see what she'll be capable of. Therefore, Irisviel, we can't afford to have you stumble over emotional trip-wires over this, as it were."

Kiritsugu couldn't help a glare in Jubstacheit's direction, but it was cold enough that the old sage didn't notice. Still, Irisviel kept her head and remained obediently stoic until she and Kiritsugu had returned upstairs, where Irisviel immediately took a fussing Ilyasviel away from Aloisia and waited until she took her leave before spilling out her frustration.

"I feel so uncertain now, like I don't know whether to take to heart what you've taught me, or try and go back to the way I was, or even try and find a balance…only I don't know if I can," she grumbled as she sat with Ilya at a small low table they'd had brought into their room so their daughter could play with things like blocks and paints her father had picked out for her and they could sit with her as she did so.

Despite his own frustration with Jubstacheit, Kiritsugu couldn't help a dry chuckle as he sat cross-legged across from the two of them at that table. But that was also partly to do with the shapes Ilya was figuring how to put together with her tiny hands using those wooden blocks.

Then, shaking his head, he heaved a sigh. "It's difficult for most to do what I do. I just had a talent for it from the very first. To be honest, I've always considered it a dark gift, a curse even. It's brought me nothing but...sadness." He kept smiling, even when he knew it had turned quite melancholy. "You're fine the way you are. Wonderful. Don't listen to what Acht says. Leave all the darkness to me. If anything, I can be of use to you at the very least by being the one to shoulder the sins to come."

Irisviel looked up from the shapes Ilya was making and frowned with heartfelt compassion for her husband. "Kiritsugu..."

"It's what I've always done. It never bothered me before because I felt I deserved it for having been unable to save Shirley, the first girl I loved, for killing my father in the name of what I believed in...for foolishly thinking it wouldn't come without a price, though I would pay that price again and again without fail because of what I stand for. But now..."

He watched as Ilya arranged her shapes, at the same time growing fascinated with them and their colors. And then she paused and looked up much like her mother had done, as if sensing the way her father was watching her...watching her as if his heart was anchored to her, similar in its level of devotion to how he would watch her mother, particularly when Irisviel didn't realize he was watching her, as she did daily things like brush out her hair, or dressing in the pale light of early morning.

And then Ilya tried for another smile, mimicking her father, though she expressed far more pure happiness. Even so, Kiritsugu was glad to see it, and he reached over and petted the top of her silver head.

"After this, I won't have to be that kind of person again, and I'm happy just knowing that for Ilya's sake, I'll do everything to live a normal life with her and raise her right, as any good parent would want to do."

Ilya made a sound that was definitely her first attempts at laughter, and the effect it had on her parents was predictably contagious, but no less moving to the both of them.

"Are we having fun, sweet Ilya?" Irisviel embraced her daughter tightly, at which Ilya giggled a little harder, especially when Irisviel tried her hand at giving the little one a tickle under her arms, causing a peal of giggles, bright like coins in sunlight, to burst out of the child.

And then something seemed to become renewed in the optimism of Irisviel's spirit, and she reached out a hand to Kiritsugu.

Kiritsugu withdrew his hand from Ilya and took Irisviel's, grateful that for now, there was still a loving hand in his life that would reach for his this way. Ilya quit laughing as she peered at the clasped hands of her parents across the small table, looking between them as the two of them looked into each other's eyes, a wordless reaffirmation of all of their promises to each other.

"What do you say? Think we're doing all right as parents so far?" Irisviel asked.

"I think so," Kiritsugu decided, and cherished the brilliant smiles on his wife and daughter's faces as they both giggled again.

In truth, his bigger concern was whether he could go back to the way he was so he could carry out his end of everything in the final fight of his life. But he kept this fear from Irisviel, knowing that it would only worry her and only make her feel like she was to blame. Logically, she was, but Kiritsugu couldn't regret it, and that in and of itself felt like a precious miracle.

Almost as precious as the miracle that was the birth of his daughter. Almost, but certainly not very close to. And in his beating, wounded heart that still yearned to live and love, he was beginning to understand that in the eyes of most, the miracle of Ilya's birth was even greater than anything the Holy Grail could grant.

For the present though, he wouldn't and couldn't let it bother him. After all, ordinary happiness was all he'd ever wanted for everyone, and now here it was, a happiness all his own…sitting right in front of him at last.