A magenta haze tinted the dawn sky, spilling off the shimmering barrier that had enclosed Fuyuki. Even though the city should have been stirring to life, it remained comatose. The streets near Gilgamesh's apartment were all but empty, save for the four figures just below his window.
Mamako stared as if hypnotized out the window as Illya jumped lightly off her Servant's shoulder and flipped her platinum hair over her shoulder as she stepped to one side. Her face still glowed with excitement, as if she'd been longing to find the Servant at the other end of the block.
Gilgamesh's grip on her arm loosened as he said, "Two Berserkers, one from the West and one from the East. This might actually be entertaining." He tilted his head toward Mamako. "And somehow they're here at my doorstep because of you. Hmm."
Mamako had no idea what he was talking about, but she had more important things to worry about. She watched in concern as the sword-wielding woman and the giant man charged at each other. Right before it seemed like they would slam into each other, the woman flipped herself into the air, her sword flashing. In response, the giant's fist thrust out, catching the woman by the leg.
He roared, slamming her toward the ground, but in a phenomenal feat of athletics, she curled up, bracing her free foot against his shoulder and slamming her sword through the wrist that held her. Blood spurted and they sprang apart.
Mamako's gaze went to Illya, who was grinning fiercely as if her Servant's injury meant nothing to her. Then she looked at the end of the block and saw Ayako in her hospital pajamas, on her hands and knees with her head down as if she was having trouble rising to her feet.
"Ayako!" said Mamako, and yanked herself free of Gilgamesh's grip. She made it to the bedroom door before he caught her. His hand closed around her shoulder and spun her around, pressing her against the door as it clicked closed again.
Gilgamesh's crimson eyes seemed to glow as he loomed over her. "What was it I said would happen if you disobeyed me and tried to leave…?"
He stroked a knuckle along the line of her jaw and down her throat, sending butterflies fluttering in Mamako's stomach. Defiantly, she said, "Ayako needs help."
Gilgamesh's knuckle slid over her collarbone to the hollow of her throat and toward the valley of her cleavage. "The girl is safe enough. Worry about yourself, Mamako."
"Me? I'm fine! I feel… I feel wonderful." Mamako's eyelashes fluttered closed as Gilgamesh's finger unfolded and his fingertip touched between the swell of her breasts. That awful, shameful part of her wanted him to go on exploring. But it ran headlong into her protective instincts, and the vision of Ayako on her knees while monstrous warriors battled nearby. She took a deep breath, but kept her eyes closed lest his own confuse her.
"Hero-sama, this—"
Very softly, he said, "And why is it you're fine?"
Her eyes flew open as a wave of consternation crashed over everything else. She felt fine because Gilgamesh had rescued her and healed her. Without his kindness, who knew what state she'd be in now?
She stared up into his angular face, trying and failing to sort out the tangled knot of her duty from her desires. Gilgamesh looked—and often acted—like such a young man. A young man accustomed to far more power than any young man should have. From what he'd said, he'd grown up with it. Somewhere, somewhen.
And yet occasionally, as when he'd spoken to her from his chair in the corner, he seemed so much older than her it frightened her. He'd spoken of being a king, and while she'd never exactly doubted him, she now understood just what kind of king he'd been. Not a kindly, gentle king who walked among his people; not an earnest, enthusiastic king as her son was learning to be. King Gilgamesh must have been terrifying; all-powerful; feared and adored.
Another roar from the giant shook the building, and Mamako's heart leapt into her throat. She made an instinctive effort to jerk away from Gilgamesh that he easily thwarted.
"No, Mamako," he whispered, his breath brushing against her cheek before his mouth covered hers: first with a light brush of his lips until his tongue slipped within.
This wasn't the brief, hard kiss he'd given her in the chocolate shop. That had been over before she'd been able to process what was going on, and she'd mostly done a very good job of forgetting it since then. This time, his mouth moved against hers almost tenderly, languidly, making sure she had time to feel every movement of his lips and stroke of his tongue.
And, oh God, it'd been forever since she'd been kissed like that. It'd been nearly as long since anybody she'd been attracted to had touched her as he did now. His hand moved over her bodice to stroke her breast, and a shiver of pleasure ran all the way down to her toes. It made it so hard for her to think, to remember—
His mouth left hers, travelled to her ear where he whispered, "All you have to do to stay safe is obey me. It's easy enough for even a mongrel to do."
"Safe," murmured Mamako, shaking her head blindly. Safe. But she'd learned something on her adventures with Ma-kun. What had it been? Oh yes… She'd learned that safe wasn't always the important thing. Sometimes when you tried to keep safe those you loved, you took away their ability to fly.
She frowned as Gilgamesh kissed her neck. Then she opened her mouth to explain that Oh, this is nice, but I really must get going, that girl needs help, please, where are my shoes? and stopped as another voice, a creaky, knowing voice said, Running away, are we?
"I… I need to check on… Hero-sama, why do you think she's safe?"
"It would be useless. They want her alive," he murmured, nibbling her collarbone as his thumb circled the peak on her breast through her dress. "They want you dead."
Mamako stiffened, her hands coming up to press against his chest. "Me? What nonsense, they don't even know me. Except Miss Illya, and she's a sweet girl."
Gilgamesh lifted his head to look at her with glinting eyes, leaving his hand where it was. "A sweet girl who would slaughter every other Master in this War."
"I don't believe you," said Mamako stubbornly. "You said something… what was it? About pieces of straw? You meant everything was confused right now."
He looked down at her in silence, an unsettling look in his eyes. Once again, she felt that sense that he was so much older than her, which sharply contrasted with the distracting movement of his thumb against her nipple.
She knocked her wrist against his fretfully and then slid her fingers through his. He allowed this but his thumb kept moving, stroking her hand as she asked, "Why… why are you doing this? I thought you wanted my swords at first, and then that you were… playing with me."
Gilgamesh's gaze darkened as his brows lowered. "Who is playing with whom?" he demanded.
A dreadful remorse swept over Mamako as she realized that he was right; that she had been wickedly tempting him, enticing him. Her eyes dropped and she tried to pull herself away from him. "I'm so sorry. I've been a little crazy without my son. I… I forget who I am so easily around you."
"Not easily enough," he said harshly, retaining his grip on her hand no matter how she shook it. "Fool, you didn't—" He ground his teeth and then he was crowding her against the door, pressing himself against her as he forced her chin up and kissed her once more.
This time, it was a kiss of conquest, not a kiss of pleasure, with his hands moving everywhere and his mouth rough against her own. She felt like he was telling her something, and she tried to understand, she really did. But all she could think of was her own guilt and shame, and her awareness that a man like him didn't embrace a woman like herself without a reason.
And the worst part was, she didn't care. She wanted his embrace even if she'd regret it later. She wanted to be wicked, to seduce him, to pull him from his throne down to the floor with her.
But… not right now. Not with Ayako so lost below.
For a moment, she pressed herself onto her toes, kissing Gilgamesh back—but only for a moment. Then, very firmly, she pushed him away. "I need to go check on Ayako for myself. Please give me my shoes. I don't care if it isn't safe. I need to do it."
"Ah," he said softly, still holding her, but loosely. "There you are." His voice was oddly measured, as if he'd expected this. "Once again, you rebel against the King."
She gave him a little smile. "You are a King, it's true. But Hero-sama—Gilgamesh—I think right now I may be the only mother this… this singularity… has left." She hesitated over the unfamiliar word.
Gilgamesh gave a stifled groan as he released her. "Not the only one." He glanced toward the window. "Definitely not the only one." When he looked back down at her, he had the same hard stare he'd had earlier when he'd first talked about his pieces of straw, as if once again he was working challenging calculations in his head. "But maybe that's why you're here."
"I'm sure it is!" said Mamako cheerily, buoyant with relief that he'd listened to her. She felt behind her and managed to slip the door of the bedroom open as she turned. Beyond was a living area furnished in much the same way, with her shoes next to the door. Lightly, she ran over and slipped them on.
Gilgamesh followed her. As she went to open the outer door, he commanded, "Mamako, come here first." When she hesitated, looking over her shoulder at him, he added, "Mongrel, I have already decided to let you see for yourself how unnecessary your assistance is. Approach me so that I can adorn you appropriately."
"Oh, am I a mongrel now too?" she asked innocently, unable to resist returning to him.
He snapped his fingers and a length of red ribbon fell into his hand from a flash of light. Then he wrapped the cool satin around her arm and tied it. "You are either a mongrel or a weapon of the gods. I haven't decided which yet. In either case, you need a leash." He tightened the bow. "Next time you consider sacrificing yourself for some ill-favored children, toss the ribbon into the wind, and it will find me."
"Why would you help me again?" Mamako asked, feeling shy as she ran her fingers over the ribbon. "After… after my games?"
He gave her a cold, stern look. "You are mine. You are also a mongrel and a fool, and you flatter yourself beyond reason if you think that your so-called games have had any influence over me. If I embrace you, it is for my own reasons. Now begone. I'm sure somewhere a child needs their nose wiped."
Mamako gave him another happy smile and took his advice, running through the door and down the stairs. Perhaps the elevator would have been faster, but a lifetime of training made her hesitant to use such conveyances in what felt like a crisis.
She emerged, panting and with a stitch in her side, into a shining glass lobby with nobody present, but caught Gilgamesh's cedar scent as she ran to the front doors. As she stepped outside, she took in the cracked pavement and downed street lights that two clashing Servants had left. The giant knelt down as if frozen but then jolted to his feet as the Eastern Berserker swore at him in an old dialect.
Gilgamesh, in golden armor, stood in the air over both Berserkers, his hands on his hips. "You fools, how dare you disturb my pleasures with your noise?" A half-dozen portals opened around him.
Illya jumped up and down, her face twisting in rage. "Get up, Berserker! Grab that gold bird and smash him flat!"
Mamako looked the other way and saw Ayako halfway down the block. She'd made it to her feet, but she was hanging onto another street light as if the earth moved beneath her.
Gilgamesh's voice boomed again as Mamako ran over to Ayako, insulting the Berserkers further. Then there was the hiss of his blades flying, and cries from the other Servants.
Mamako winced, but clearly they were extremely tough. Gilgamesh was doing what he had to do to allow her to reach Ayako safely. She couldn't complain about that.
Instead she caught Ayako around the waist as the teenager swayed. The girl blinked at her, recoiling. Her brown eyes were odd, as if bands of raw power crackled through them. Then she relaxed a little.
"Who… who are you?" she said hoarsely. "What's going on?"
"I'm Mamako. A friend of Rin," said Mamako. "And you're Ayako. Things are pretty scary right now, but it'll be okay! Let's get you away from those guys."
"I woke up in the hospital and everyone was gone," said Ayako quietly, letting Mamako steer her down the street. "I don't even know why I was there. But my vision is so strange now."
"Oh? How so?" asked Mamako, mostly to keep her talking as Mamako decided what to do next. She wanted to get Ayako back to Shirou and Rin, where she would definitely be safe. Ordinarily, she'd use a taxi. But the taxis didn't seem to be running at the moment. She wasn't even quite sure how to get back to Shirou's by walking.
Perhaps Gilgamesh foresaw this and that was why he had declared her intention useless. But he'd been wrong, too. Poor Ayako did need help.
"There are… lines everywhere," said Ayako. "Lines around everything." She stared down at a lump of road rubble that had been flung by the giant Western Berserker at some point previously. "It feels like… if I concentrate… the lines change." Her eyes narrowed.
The jagged piece of rubble slid across the ground, hopped like it was trying to fly, and then spun in a circle. Then Ayako blinked and the rubble stopped moving abruptly. Steam rose from glistening tar and there came a slow groan.
"Oh my goodness," said Mamako. "Did you do that? How… marvelous!" She guided Ayako around the rubble and kept her moving. "You just never know what's going to happen these days."
"Am I a monster?" asked Ayako. "I… dreamt of monsters, before I woke up in the hospital."
"No, no, no," said Mamako firmly. "Don't worry about it."
Ayako pulled against Mamako's hand, her mouth tightening. "I want to worry about it. If I might hurt people, I need to know."
Mamako loosened her supportive grip as she said reasonably, "Even without magic eyes, you can hurt people. That doesn't make you a monster. But my goodness, Ayako, let's find somewhere safe and get you properly dressed. You must be freezing!"
"Oh," said Ayako, and looked down at herself, her cheeks turning pink. "Yes, I'm cold."
There was a shopping district across the street, and Mamako helped Ayako there. The stores were all closed, of course, as the magenta storm that had swallowed Fuyuki had come late at night and nobody had since come to open them.
"Hmm," said Mamako, tapping her fingers on the glass front of a boutique. "I wish my swords weren't at home. I didn't think I'd be able to use them so soon!"
Ayako shivered. "You'd break in?"
"Dear, you're so cold and I have nothing I can give you of my own. I promise I'll repay them later, all right?" She pouted and pounded on the glass with her fist. "I wonder if I can call Tsuchiko from here… I've never tried!"
"Ma'am… uh… the glass has those lines too. Maybe if you come over here? Stand behind me…"
Mamako's eyes widened, and then she hurried to Ayako's side. Once again the girl's eyes narrowed. The air seemed to sizzle and then once again something groaned. This time the groan rose to a crystalline pitch before the window exploded into tiny fragments that fell like dust onto the pavement.
Ayako shuddered harder and crouched down. "That was… that was hard. I think that's good. I didn't want you to get cut by the shards, ma'am."
Mamako patted her hair and then darted across the sparkling pavement, very glad she'd reclaimed her shoes. Within the boutique, she gathered up an armful of clothing, snagged a card with the shop's name from the counter, and returned to Ayako.
"Let's get you into something warm, and then we'll figure out how to get to Shirou's house, all right? I bet you know how to get to the river better than I do!"
"Shirou's house…? Do you know him, too? Is he… Is he in this nightmare?" Ayako let Mamako help her out of the hospital gown in the middle of the empty street.
Mamako handed her a camisole and some shorts to serve as underwear-in-a-hurry. "He's perfectly safe, along with Sakura! I saw to that. We'll go there and everything will be cozy while we figure out what happened."
"Is… Is Rin here too?" Ayako asked, pulling the shorts on.
As if in answer, Rin's raised voice hollered, "TURN YOUR BACK RIGHT NOW, ARCHER!"
Mamako looked up. At the far end of the shopping street, Rin raced toward them, with Archer strolling backward behind her, his hands clasped behind his head.
"AYAKO!" called Rin, as Ayako quickly pulled the camisole on and then scrambled into the rest of the clothing—shirt, sweater, a longish skirt—as fast as Mamako thrust them at her.
Rin slowed as she approached them, until by the time she came within speaking distance, she walked at a sedate, elegant pace. "Ayako," she said in a calm voice belied by the way her eyes frantically scanned her friend for injuries. "I'm so—I'm glad to see you're well."
Ayako squinted down at Archer, who was still a ways down the street. "You didn't get a boyfriend before me, did you?"
Rin's illusion of poise vanished as she huffed, "No I did not!"
"So… he's not your boyfriend?" queried Ayako thoughtfully.
"No!" Fuming, Rin turned to Mamako. "How did you find her? Have you seen Taiga? Shirou is worried sick about you both, so Archer and I had to come out looking as soon as the sun rose!"
Author's Note:
Hello, wonderful patient readers!
First: This is a week later than it was meant to be, because I spent too much of the last week with my nose pressed to the window on current events (and for posterity's sake I explain this means the coronavirus pandemic unfolding). But now I am housebound for weeks and I fully intend to spend it writing amusing distractions for people in need of them.
To that end:
I am on Twitter! (username: chrysoula) Feel free to follow me and talk to me about Fate or fanfiction or whatever. I find I'm craving that kind of thing already. It's impressive how social distancing can make even an introvert like me want to reach out! I'm also thinking of reactivating a long disused Tumblr account...? Hm...
Anyhow, I love hearing from readers, even if it's incoherent, and reader thoughts can really inspire and motivate me.
Second: Ah, Gilgamesh and Mamako. He is not good (but he's learning to see beyond himself again) and she has absorbed a lot of toxic cultural ideas about herself. With any luck they'll both keep growing through the story.
Thank you for reading!
