Her fingers were small sickening digits that she wanted to cut off. The power that other Heroic Spirits maintained when they were placed in their class containers was nowhere to be found in her own skillset, no matter how hard she searched. Against Lancer they failed her, as they always had. Against Berserker they nearly shattered under her, because they were weak. Because she was weak. Her fingernails couldn't cut through her own skin to find the sinew beneath, even though she wanted to tear it out
piece
by
fucking
piece.
Even in astral form, where no one could see her, she wanted to rip their eyes out so she wouldn't see them looking at her, so they could avoid her ungaze.
better blind than dead
She couldn't stay inside the dining room, where her Master sat so cheerfully with the two women that loved to follow him around. The pollutants of their small happiness made her want to choke and spit and be sick all over them. In a moment she was outside, on the roof of his compound. She wasn't going to bother watching out for enemy Servants. If they came, Saber would kill them. She was completely unneeded.
never there when you are
Saber sat in the seiza position, his eyes closed and his hands resting on his thighs. His body was pointed towards the street, and he gave no reaction when she materialized on the roof. She did not bother imitating his formal posture. She let herself fall onto her behind and pulled a knee up, resting her arm on it.
She tried to use her breathing to calm herself down, listening to the violent inhales and exhales and attempting to mediate them. It didn't work. All she could think of was Lancer's stupid playful smirk and the naïve face of her Master as he tried to force his ideals onto the servant. She couldn't help but growl and clutch at her arms, clawing at them but finding herself still unable to pierce through the skin.
still unable to make marks
She tried to breathe again.
In
and out.
In
and out.
In
"Your restlessness is palpable."
And out in a growl as Saber's calm voice rolled over her. She spun in his direction.
"So what?" she asked, "You want to kick me off of the roof? It isn't yours to lord over."
"Nor is your Master yours to abuse," his tone remained unnaturally even, "yet you find it fit to do so nonetheless."
"That's none of your fucking business." She stood up fully, failing to intimidate him with her diminutive size.
"Unlike you, I wish to win this war." He finally opened his eyes, gray steel that cut into her soul. "An impossible victory if you continue to antagonize our gracious host. Are you so immature, locked in this petty hatred of yours, that you are blind to even that?"
Her spear manifested itself in response to her rage.
"You don't know me," she said quietly. "Don't act like you know why I'm angry."
A huff came from the old man, a quiet exhale of laughter.
"How is anybody supposed to," he asked, standing up in one smooth motion, inhuman in how perfectly he straightened his posture, "when you force them all away? You are a little girl playing house with a divorced marriage in the middle of a battlefield, and as such—"
Mash lunged forward with a scream, drawing her spear back to strike his side. His katana materialized, sweeping down to block the blow as if he could see one step ahead of her, but she was already countering. She twisted herself clockwise to change the angle of attack and threw the spear at his head, simultaneously lashing out at his right knee with a straight kick.
He effortlessly read her attempt to trap him, shifting his stance downwards to easily deflect the spear with the back of his sword. She moved in closer to throw a jab into his side, but her breath caught in her throat as he caught it with his elbow. Her balance was thrown off and she stumbled behind him, unable to block the thrust of his sandal into the small of her back. With but the smallest push, she careened over the side of the roof in almost cartoonish fashion. Her yell of rage echoed impotently as she bruised against the earth.
The exterior door slid open.
"Avenger?" Her idiot Master spoke in that disgustingly fake voice of his. "Are you okay?"
"Fuck off!" she shouted without so much as a glance in his direction, quickly recovering only to jump upwards once again. She met Saber's gaze as she rose higher than him, then flipped in the air to bring a heel drop against him. She saw his block coming, no, wait, was that his preparation for a parry?
Damn you, stop reading my fucking moves!
She turned herself around so that she could avoid his parry, landing a few feet away from him. The roof grumbled at her landing, but grudgingly kept itself together as she growled at the Servant.
"Your style matches you quite closely," he said, expressionless. "Immature and graceless, fitting more for a bear than a bearer of arms so precious as your own."
While he held the katana in one hand, with his other he reached behind and ripped her spear out of the roof. Small pieces of tile fell away as he beheld it, his gaze curious.
"Interesting," he commented, "a steel made from the fragments of soul—"
"Don't you dare—" She was already sprinting forward to take it back, but before she made it more than a few steps he had let it clatter onto the ground, sweeping his blade upwards at her. She sharply bent backwards as the sword passed right over her nose, cutting the wind in its wake, but found herself unable to stop the fist he planted in her abdomen. She coughed as the air rushed out of her lungs and hissed in pain when she landed on her spear, the spines digging into her exposed back.
His weight pressed onto her as he pushed his wooden sandal exactly where his fist had hit her. She wanted to cry out in pain, but refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd hurt her even more.
"Pathetic," Saber spoke calmly, not even deigning to berate her with any passion. "You are not gifted with the enhanced characteristics that come with being a Servant. You come to a battle with no talent or training. What warped judgement do you hold that predicts a victory for you? What kind of fantasies do you dream of, I wonder?"
"Then kill me," she growled at him, the flame of her anger only stoked in the face of her weakness. "If you're so disappointed in how much of a shitty Servant I am, kill me already. Or am I some kind of punching bag for you?"
He exhaled, a condescending sound that made her want to strangle him.
"No, no, nothing like that. You're a pup that thinks its milk teeth are true fangs. I find your determination to be a slight amusement."
Saber turned his gaze to the side to see her Master clambering up to the roof, grunting in exertion. He took his foot off of her and stepped a few paces away from her. She very quickly got up and took a defensive posture towards him.
"Ah, my apologies for the ruckus, Master Emiya," he said as the boy stood up, brushing the dirt off of his jacket. "We had something of a disagreement."
"Are you two okay?" was, of course, the first question out of his mouth, the fucking moron.
"I am perfectly unharmed," the old man said, radiating a calm that could only come from a wizened elder. "I believe Avenger may have bruised her pride, though."
"Don't speak for me, asshole," she hissed.
"Avenger...?"
She bit back another curse at her Master, choosing instead to continue glaring at Saber, who in turn was resolutely ignoring her.
"She lacks discipline, Master Emiya," Saber said. "Every attack is instinct. She is barely any better than a rabid animal. How do you plan to work with your Servant to help us win the Grail?"
She did not give the boy a chance to respond, the fire in her veins alight with fury. One, two, three, five rapid thrusts at the old man. Not a single one hit. He dodged all but the last, using her overextension to parry her away. She readied herself for another fight.
"Avenger, by this Command Seal..."
She spun to her Master, a scream on her lips as she spotted him holding his hand up, the bloody markings making a clear statement of who ruled over whom.
"Do not attack our allies!"
A red pulse channeled out from his hand, and she felt the magic settle onto her. She did not try to fight it, she only stood in place for a few moments, letting the fiery fury simmer down to a cold rage. It was a different kind of burn, now. A freezing burn.
She glared at her Master.
"I hope you die in a fire," she said, and then when she remembered something from the dream cycle, her lips turned upward, "just like your parents did."
As she faded into her astral form, seeing his expression collapse into despair was the most satisfying thing she had seen all evening.
[Steel, silenced]
The girl ran to the shed, pretending to hold a satisfaction that lied to her. He could tell from the way her spirit exuded anger with every step she took, an anger that coated vulnerability against the harsh elements of her livelihood. She was so pathetic that he might have been able to feel bad for her, had he given enough of a damn.
She can be molded into something worth a damn, but as is, she is barely something at all.
His gaze turned to the boy, kneeling now and stunned into silence.
And, of course, that depends on whether her Master wishes to help her.
Saber took three steps to come forward before the boy, whose eyes wouldn't leave the tile on his roof.
"They were small words from a small woman, Master Emiya." Finally, the boy was moving, his head turning so their gazes could lock. "You cannot pay them much concern. If she does not wish to cooperate further, one seal yet remains."
Using it, of course, means forfeiture of your place in the war. Do not be foolish.
"I... hated doing that," the Emiya boy said quietly. "I didn't want to, but she..."
"She is unstable," he stated. "She poses a risk to everyone in this household, and everyone you choose to ally with."
He paused for a moment, thinking upon how to push the boy in the right direction.
"The possibility exists that she will betray you," he continued. "Unhappy, demoralized, and undisciplined soldiers are those ripe for desertion, if not turning coat altogether. How will you face that outcome?"
"She wouldn't..." His voice was weak, pitiful. He had an easier time sympathizing for the young man, as within that soul he could see the makings of a samurai. A code of honor and righteousness he adhered to, and the strength of will to execute it. But he needed to be forged into the proper blade, and making men out of boys was something Saber was very experienced with.
"She can, and if given the opportunity while pushed too far, she will," he answered. "The seals act as hard power, a blunt hammer with which to straighten a crooked nail. But too many hammer strikes upon brittle metal will cause it to shatter at your worst moment."
He held a hand out.
"Master Emiya, I urge you to allow me to train her," he said confidently. "As she is, even were she not to betray you, she will hold you back. I will shape her into a proper warrior, a lance that you can count on to defend you and to remove all of your opponents' pieces from the field."
The boy continued looking up at him for a heartbeat. He could see in the young man's eyes a need to grab onto a ledge, a tree branch to stop him from falling into a dark hole. A little trust would go a long way here.
"This I swear upon my father's grave," he stated quietly. "My Master may be Sakura Tohsaka, but for the duration of our alliance, my blade shall serve as your blade until your lance has the strength to protect you on its own. My True Name is Munenori Yagyu, and on my honor I shall serve you as readily as I would my own Master."
With widened eyes and a sharp intake of breath, Master Emiya grabbed onto his forearm and pulled himself up by his own strength. There was some iron in his grip, and Saber smiled.
I will see you sharpened into a fine blade, Shirou Emiya.
Kept you waiting, huh? The reception to the first Mash Alter chapter was one of the most informative, as it was the first one that I had received true negative commentary about. It took me a while to figure out why, but I eventually got it. As an OC, many of you are very unfamiliar with her history and background, and as such your understanding of her was solely based on the few lines of dialogue she had. I will do my best to tell her tale over the course of her arc, but the materials I based her on were mentioned in her first chapter, so if you want to find out yourself, it shouldn't be that hard. In addition, I have posted pictures of what she looks like (and, I forgot to mention, of what Caesar looks like) in my Discord. You can find the invite code on my profile or back in Kiyohime's chapter.
Once again, thanks to my wonderful Loresingers for sifting out the gold from the silt. They are Aberron, TungstenCat, Exstarsis, Katkiller-V, and KentaKazami. Exstarsis is working on a new series called Ignis Chaldea, a very warped and distorted version of what the normal Chaldea looks like. It's dark, sexy, and full of interesting worldbuilding. Go check it out. I would also like to recommend nd7878's Afterlife, a story about a desperate Olga-Marie stuck in Singularity F with a dying Ritsuka who ends up calling upon the Goddess of Kur for aid. As one of the only Ereshkigal-tagged stories on FFN, it is well worth your time.
Your ending theme is A Picture in Motion by Waveshaper.
Thanks for reading.