Beep. Beep. Beep.
The sound of the heartbeat monitor echoed throughout the room. Had the constant occupant of the room been aware of it, he'd likely shrug the noise off and say something about it being calming. But to anyone else that ever spent time in the room, they would honestly state that they hated the noise.
To them, it was a noise signifying failure. It was a noise that signified the self-sacrificing fool that had only begun to find a path that he could walk down and truly live. And sooner or later, it would be a noise to signify that idiot's death.
For there is no such thing as power without sacrifice.
Rin Tohsaka found herself pacing within her room, located on the Veteran Floor. Generally it was used for those in Captain positions, and otherwise for veterans. The veteran turnover rate was normally a new batch every five to ten years, so worst case scenario a junior was stuck living in their dorm for their entire career.
Rin had been ecstatic to move into the Veteran Floor, because it meant she had become worth her salt. But given the situation...
She didn't think she was worth her salt at all.
Thinking back to all of the major situations they had been in over the years, what use had she been?
In the situation with Sakura and her grandfather, all she could do was watch as Saber and Shirou did the majority of the work.
With Illya and her grandfather, she had been knocked on her ass and left useless for the rest of the fight.
Then most recently, with Gilgamesh and the Angra, well what can she say? That she was at best, useless, and at worst, a liability? That because she hadn't moved in time, she was put out of the fight with Gilgamesh, which put Shirou in danger because he's the one who got her? Or that her Gandrs were almost useless against the Angra, and only became useful after Shirou showed up on death's door?
And that's not taking into account all of the little situations they had been in over the years. How often had she been useful? How many times had her inadequacies put someone she cared for in danger?
A yell escaped her clamped down jaw as she brought her clenched fists to her hair, rubbing the ebony locks into a frizzy frenzy.
This was driving her crazy! She wanted to go out and do something to get her mind off of everything, but she didn't want to stray too far from the Den in case any news of... his condition popped up.
She had already visited him twice today, once with everyone else and then a second time on her lonesome. It would be really weird for her to go a third time, wouldn't it!?
Rin cast her mind around for something else to do, an exercise she had become intimately familiar with. Sakura had dominion over the kitchen, at least for today, Sakaki doesn't require any assistance with cataloguing or researching or anything, she had no skill in engineering, she had already tinkered her heart out in the Bullet Editor, and she had stress-cleaned her room to the point where even... he would admit defeat.
On the other hand, spending time with the others was... awkward.
Sakura had taken to the kitchen with a drive that can only be described as conquering, and kept to it as a Fortress of Solitude, rarely smiling, or even really emoting.
Saber had plunged once more headfirst into completing dangerous missions on her lonesome, but she didn't skimp on eating with everyone else unlike the time after Sakura's grandfather. Yet she seemed withdrawn, looking sadly at her food from time to time.
Illya would gladly spend every waking moment by his bedside, if not for the interference of Fujimura and Sakaki. Fujimura always took her out, or brought her with her to the academy she worked at, Kuromatsu. Sakaki, on the other hand, always dragged her along to medical tests and the like. Whenever Rin asked what it was about, they'd refuse to answer or change the conversation.
Sighing, Rin committed herself to spending another day wastefully wondering why she was even there. If she couldn't keep up with the others, then why even bother?
Placing herself onto the foot of her bed, Rin put her head into her hands. This wasn't getting her anywhere, and she knew that. She knew that, but she knew not how to stop. It wasn't as if she had much experience with this either. The only times she had felt this helpless would have been after her father's death, which she just worked through and ignored except for the funeral, and back with...
Back with Shirou, in his last coma...
Oh.
Oh.
She didn't have to worry, because Archer...
"Gah!!"
As the God Arc's visage, a perfect mirror to his own, floated into her mind, she brought her fists onto her bed to clump up the sheets.
What was it with these stupid idiots and occupying her mind!?
As she scrunched and tangled the fisted bedsheets, Rin let herself fume for a few minutes more. As the orange light of sundown began to shine through her window, she calmed down and once more sought to think rationally.
If she had no work in front of her to do, and no one to occupy her time that wouldn't likely ignore her, then what was she to do?
The answer was, of course, simple. As all important things in her life often were.
Bringing a hand to the bejeweled pendant dangling over her collar, she let herself think of him, and the half-smile he would sometimes wear when he didn't seem to be paying attention to it. How it was stupid, yet endearing, and made her want to make him smile for real. Not because of some divine revelation he had after confronting something deep within, but rather because he was so honestly happy he couldn't control it.
"If I don't have anything to do, or anyone to talk to, that just means I have to go find something or someone. It really is simple when you put it like that."
It was something she'd believe he would say. And because it was, it made her heart feel a little warmer that she could understand him a little more.
As she stood up, and purposefully ignored her now messy bed, Rin thought to herself. There was no guarantee that she would find something to do, or someone to spend time with. It wasn't as if she hadn't already tried previously.
But what mattered was that she tried. Even if she failed, as long as she converted that failure into fuel for a later success, she would win 99% of the time.
"Alright then. Let's go."
As she made her way out of her room, she made that affirmation to herself.
It wouldn't be easy, but it was a step in the right direction.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The beeping of the heart rate monitor continued, a never-ending constant. Had the Aragami appeared in another time, almost two decades earlier, and had technology that improves the quality of living not improved, then there would have doubtless been a mounted clock on the wall, adding its own consistent tick-tick-ticking.
Of course, being the latter half of the 21st century, clocks had improved to the point that gears and cogs were no longer necessary. Merely wires, electricity, and inputs were required, and voila, a clock. But even though those silent clocks had become so common since the 2040s, children that grew up without their presence would still have an inkling of their ticking and tocking.
This actually fits an old theory a certain philosopher had on the concept of human psychology, and the metaphorical hive-mind attached. He posited that there is a collective unconsciousness, the Sea of the Human Soul, in which underlying concepts understood by a majority of the collective could be understood by the minority that hadn't experienced them.
This actually aligns with a certain experiment the Far East Branch's Director had been working on, but that is a story for another time.
As the silent clock read 00:01, the comatose boy took another breath. One of a now numbered quantity.
Sakura looked down to her hands.
In one lay a knife, old and worn. In the other lay a whetstone.
The purpose of the stone was to sharpen the knife.
As she brought the rock to steel, she followed the motions she had been taught years ago... by her Senpai.
Scrape, scrape. The sound of the hard materials grinding together making an almost detestable sound.
Scrape, scrape. But as she became used to it, the sound became soothing. Instead of being an inconvenient chore, it became a kind of ritual.
Scrape, scrape. Always in his company as he watched intently, making sure she didn't accidentally harm herself or ruin the knife.
Scrape, scrape. Logistically, it was strange that she, and by extension he, used a whetstone to sharpen the knife when more modern iterations and conveniences existed. When she asked him about it, he shrugged and said it was just how he was taught. Then he went right back to work.
Scrape, scrape. In the end, she never asked. It wasn't because she didn't care, or because she didn't want to know more about her Senpai. She was just content with letting him keep his secrets. And if he wanted to tell her, he could tell her.
Scrape, scrape. But deep down, she always wanted to ask.
Scrape, scrape. She always wanted to know more about him.
Scrape, scrape. But now she might never-
Chink!
Ah.
Bringing her attention back to the knife in her hands, she saw her reflection in the blade. Her eyes, dull, her face, pale. The ends of her purple hair had begun to split, and the bags under her eyes were becoming noticeable.
Tracing her eyes along the edge, she noticed a slight divergence near the tip; a groove in the otherwise perfectly straight line. Looking to the whetstone, she noticed a similar phenomena; a chip in the smooth facade.
She looked back to the knife, then to the stone again. Back and forth, and back and forth, all while a tremor started to creep up her arms.
Slowly, the tremor built up and worsened. Her hands shook so much that she had to loosen her grip. Then it stretched and stretched, crawling up and up, shaking her spine, tightening her throat, blurring her vision, and all she could could think, all she wanted, all she thought, was-
"Senpai..."
A whimper broke free of her, and with it came everything else. Tears came next, wetting her face and burning her eyes. Then, sobbing. Straining her throat, drying it out, emptying her self.
Another part of Sakura found it odd. She thought she had already exhausted herself of all tears, but apparently not.
Of course, in her own mind, this was definitely something worth crying over. In her eyes, she just destroyed a piece of her Senpai and his legacy. Even ignoring her bringing shame to the technique he had taught her, it was that Sakura had damaged the knife that he used.
Not many knew this, but Shirou Emiya was a creature of habit. As well as that, he had his own strange pride about things. Everyday, he followed the same routine. He woke up at the same time, did the same stretches, and walked the same paths. The only times he didn't was when an unnatural situation was occurring or had occurred.
Along with his routine, he took pride in his housework skills. His ability to clean, and especially to cook, were constants for him as a child. He once remarked that he was so good at it because his caretakers were unreliable on the subjects.
And with his love of cooking came an appreciation for his tools. From day one to now, he always used the same knife. When he first came to the Den, Senpai had told her, he compared the quality of the Den's knives to his own, and found them lacking.
So this knife had been with him since childhood, and she had recklessly harmed this remnant of himself. With Senpai in his condition, all she had of him was his knife and her memories.
And without him, she felt there wasn't anything good to live for.
Don't get her wrong; It's not that she didn't care for anyone else. Taiga was just as much of a sister to her as she was to Senpai, and while she had a bit of a rocky start with Saber, Rin, and Illya, they had all become good friends, and even family, to her.
But she was self-aware.
She was in love with Shirou Emiya.
At first, it was just a crush. One that budded and bloomed as she spent time with her big brother's best friend, her kind yet mysterious upperclassman.
After the... incident, that crush had blossomed into... well, love. Partially obsessive, but she was still reeling from everything. Eventually, it evened out into love, pure and simple. And even if she knew it would pass, that if he was one day gone she would make it out the other side, hurt but intact, she wasn't sure she wanted to.
She didn't want the process of losing her loved ones to be a matter of course. She didn't want to come out of it okay. She'd rather die than lose it again. She didn't want the grief of losing her brother, of losing her grandfather, evil or no, of losing her mother or father.
She didn't want to lose the boy she loved, and she hated that she didn't have a say in the matter.
She hated that all she could do was sob, and cry, and destroy all she has of him.
And yet, as her sobs died down, her tremors calmed, and her view started to clear...
"Oi, Sakura."
It was as if he were right next to her. The furrow of his brow and the downturn of his lips, paired with the concern showing in his golden gaze.
Like clockwork, she already knew what he would say and how he would say it, yet she still found herself surprised at his genuine concern.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
His warmth burnt away her frozen exterior. Her tears felt renewed. She looked down and shook her head.
The figment, because that's all he is, all he can be, reached out, and gently stroked her head. The feeling of his hand was soothing, his warmth making her feel better. Even if he's a dream, she didn't want it to end.
"You know, I'm not mad that you chipped my knife."
The reminder of her sin made her flinch, her head jerking away from the specter's comforting hand. She couldn't look him in the eye.
"It was due for a replacement anyways. It was getting worn down, and even if I took good care of it, it was still being worn down. It's fine and dandy to use a tool to the breaking point, but it's a bit of a shame to let such a good one just break like a regular piece."
He resumed rubbing her head, seemingly unaware of her despair. But of course, he shattered that notion when he gently took her chin and brought her gaze to meet his own.
"I might feel a little sad, but I'd never blame you for it. I'd move past it, get a new knife, and keep on cooking. It's not losing a piece of me," he brought his other hand forward, pointing a finger towards her chest. "What matters about me is what's in here. But you already know that."
She couldn't stop the tears pooling in her eyes from falling, just as she couldn't stop herself from opening her mouth to speak.
"S-Senpai..."
Her eyes were burning, her throat was getting sore, but she had to get it out, she had to tell him--
"Senpai... I... I lov-"
"Hey now. Don't you think you should be telling him that?"
She was halted by his fingers on her lips, and a smile on his. But of course, she remembered. This wasn't him. He was a figment, a phantom, her desires made manifest. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt a bit having her feelings rebuffed.
"Now, now. You know he wouldn't want you to be so sad. So come on. Smile. Smile so when he wakes up, he gets to see his adorable kouhai."
As the encouragement continued, the phantom changed. Between blinks, the red hair ran white, the blue and white clothing turned black, the pale skin was stained brown, and his warm golden gaze was shifted steel grey. Yet the radiant smile she saw, the radiant smile she wanted to see didn't change.
"See ya, Sakura."
Blinking once more, the figment vanished from Sakura's sight. Her face was still tear-stained, the knife was still chipped, and Senpai was still unconscious. She was still hurting, and she still wanted to help her Senpai.
But one difference was that there was a slight smile on her face.
She would still cry about it, and feel regret over the circumstances. But now, she could try and take a step forward.
And in a way, that was enough for now. Eventually, she'd be able to walk alongside everyone else, alongside him. But for now, just one step at a time would do.
And for that step...
"Hey, Sakura! Are you okay? I heard-"
The sound of someone invading the kitchen caused Sakura to turn around, revealing her teary face. Immediately faced with concern, the girl softly giggled.
The future was waiting, so she just had to walk on.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Through the day and through the night, it beeped on and on, never faltering.
His chest rose, and his chest fell, never ceasing.
The room always had something. Whether it was the beep of the monitor, the slight sounds of his breath, or the various guests that enter.
Sometimes they would fill the room with their words. Anecdotes of recent events, or events long past. Interesting stories, and personal achievements.
Sometimes they would fill the room with motion. Cleaning, and tidying, and straightening out the room until it looked nearly unoccupied.
Sometimes they would content themselves with little motion at all, filling it with physical interaction. Brushing his hair, holding his hand, and occasionally stretching his muscles.
And sometimes, there would be no noise at all. Just sitting there and staring, feeling themselves drown in their own thoughts. Filling the room, not with noise but with silence.
As the sun illuminated his face, illuminated the room, his chest continued to rise, continued to fall, and continued to never cease.
Saber put her utensils down, a sigh of contentment escaping her. Putting her hands together and offering another thank you, she rose from the chair and made her way out of the mess hall.
Up and around and down, into and out of an elevator, she wandered until she found herself in front of a place she hadn't been to in a long time.
The Training Centre.
It was a large, sixteen-sided room, that was covered in scars from training exercises. The last time she had been in one of these, it had been with... Arthur.
After she lost him... after she lost all of them... she hadn't ever come back to her Branch's Training Centre. When she first arrived at the Far East Branch, she had stumbled across the Training Centre and found it to look the same.
The finer details were different, but it was still the same room. So, she made a concerted effort to never enter a Training Centre again.
She was certain that had they been there, her old team would have been disappointed that she had ceased using effective measures to train. But regardless, she didn't like the thought of progressing in her swordcraft while her old teammates never could.
Yet, as time had passed, she had made peace with that thought. And it was all thanks to her new friends, especially... him. Even if he wasn't there in person, he had inadvertently helped her come to terms and move on from the past. It was slow, but it was there.
And it had culminated in her coming to the Training Centre.
While her coming here was purely subconscious, the intention behind it was clear. She wanted to do something.
Normally, she would content herself with going on any available missions. But, she had seen the looks from Hibari. She knew that if she pushed it, she'd be put on standby for a while.
So, she was here.
As she opened the door, she was greeted by the sight she had been expecting. When she made her way further into the room, she realized the folly of her plan: the projections of Aragami were controlled by the person in the observation room. By herself, she couldn't do what she had planned.
The foolishness of her plan weighing on her, she at least hoped that there would be an armory of sorts that held practice God Arcs. Even if she couldn't practice against an Aragami, real or otherwise, she could at least practice her stances.
Leaving the room, Saber went down the hallway, looking for a door that lead to a storage closet. After several minutes of turning doorknobs, pushing doors, and peeking through doorways, she found herself becoming slightly lost.
After backtracking and forward-tracking, and opening more doors, and maybe reopening doors, she found herself back at the elevators she originally came out of.
Sighing in frustration, she quickly weighed the choice of continuing on a potentially futile quest or looking for another way about it.
Eventually, it was the thought of missing a meal from the mess that pushed her to follow the more pragmatic path. After all, she heard that Sakura would be cooking up a Senpai special!
Making her way into the elevator and out onto the main floor, Saber quickly sought out anyone that would know the way while avoiding Hibari. Yet, for whatever reason, there seemed to be a lull in the Den; there weren't any God Eaters off duty.
Finding the room to be empty except for Hibari and the other Operator typing away at their computers, Saber quickly made her way upstairs to the Bar. When inside, she found the Bar to be similarly empty, with the exception of the bartender.
After asking the younger girl, Mutsumi, about the location of any training gear, she was disappointed by a lack of information. Shaking off the girl's apologies, she figured she'd take it right to the top.
Creeping out of the room, Saber made sure not to do anything to attract Hibari's attention, eventually reaching the elevator once more. Selecting the relevant floor, she waited in the elevator, letting the sounds of violin playing from the speakers comfort her spirit. At the ding, she stepped out, heading directly for the Director's 'Office'.
Knocking on the door before opening it, Saber looked within the room to see the same old man from 12 years ago, still looking the same despite how long it had been. Well, that wasn't entirely true. His hair and clothing seemed a bit more ruffled than before, and he had more wrinkles near his mouth and forehead.
Aside from Sakura, Sakaki seemed to have taken his... absence physically worse than anyone else. Especially since it's been... a while... since he was put in a coma.
"Were you looking for something, Saber?"
His voice, usually so excited and whimsical, sounded slightly subdued. Even if the son of one of his closest friends was hospitalized, that doesn't detract from the fact that it had already been months at this point and he had to stay calm for the people that worked under him.
"Ah... yes, I was, Director. I was wondering if you know where any practice equipment for the Training Room might be."
"Practice equipment, hm?" he repeated, stroking his chin and looking upwards. "Apologies Saber, but I do believe we phased out the usage of practice equipment a few years ago. Nowadays, we have God Eaters practice with their God Arc to accelerate the bonding process and see if there are any issues with a God Arc's performance."
"Oh, I see. Sorry for bothering you then, Director."
But as Saber turned to take her leave, Sakaki offered an amendment to his statement.
"Actually, Saber," he called, "I said that we phased out training weapons years ago, but I do know that they must have been left somewhere."
He hesitates then, as if what he said next might not be appropriate, but decides to push such hesitation aside.
"Shirou asked me about them, in his first year as a God Eater. He said he found them, and I told him he could do as he wished with them."
Ah. So that was the situation.
"I see. Thank you for the information, Director Sasaki."
Saber said so and bowed, before making her way out of the room. She heard a faint 'you're welcome' follow her on the way out.
So, she saw two paths before her. Either she abandon her quest and pick up the trail tomorrow, or she go find someone that might know what he did with the training gear. Which might resolve in her having to pick up the trail tomorrow anyways. It was getting a bit late, after all.
Well, she never had been a quitter.
Making her way once more into the elevator, she decided on where she would go. After all, if there were a gathering point for the people close to him, it would have to be in his hospital room.
Stepping out into the Medical Floor, Saber followed the ever familiar path towards his room. And opening the door she saw-
"Ah-"
White hair, pale skin, red eyes, purple clothes. The snow fairy, sitting next to her 'big' brother.
"Why hello there, Saber."
Beep. Beep. Beep.
And so, times change. Seconds pass, minutes, hours, the sky shifting from black to blue then orange and black all over again. Days pass, weeks, months, the seasons shifting from spring to summer then fall to winter, and so on.
The temperature changes, hot to cold to temperate. The rainfall changes, from as rare as none in a month to as often as once every two days.
People come in and out of the room. The same people to visit the same guest, of course, but sometimes newly injured. Some new God Eaters, some old, all living their lives.
And then, there was him. Ever the same, a constant in the shifting world. Well, not necessarily. Like the room he was in, his body started showing the signs of his time. A loss of mass from his body, a result of not using his muscles or eating as often as he used to. A lack of shine to his hair and flesh, from not being able to properly bathe anymore. And even his skin and hair tone seemed to change.
Sometimes it seemed he had begun to reclaim the pale skin and red hair of his youth. Other times, it appeared his skin had darkened further, juxtaposed by sickly yellow veins of Oracle that seemed to flow along his flesh. And then, sometimes, he looked the same as he had the day he was admitted. Skin like a milk coffee, and hair as white as snow.
Actually, the time he had spent in the hospital room had spawned some fun rumours of their own, the most prominent of which being a certain ghost story. Whispers of a figure standing in the room, speaking something that sounded rhythmic -a lullaby, say some, a poem, say others- but without fail, whenever one entered the room, the presence seemed to disappear.
And so, time proceeded on, the memories of that boy being dulled by its inescapable passage.
The girl sat there, waiting by her younger brother's side. It was a position that she held almost every day, as often as she could.
Unfortunately for her, her body had needs that couldn't be feasibly satisfied within the small hospital room. She had to eat, sleep, and bathe often, and the people around her refuse to let her do the majority of that by his side.
As if that wasn't enough, those people that call themselves her 'friends' separate the two of them for completely asinine reasons like, "You need to get out more," or, "It's not good for you to spend all your time like this", and her least favourite, "He wouldn't want to see you like this."
(Which she, bitterly, acknowledged as true. But, he was an idiot, so there's no reason to follow that last piece of advice! And even if they were all right, that didn't mean she had to like it.)
These events ranged from Taiga taking her outside to show her the Outer Den and its sights, to Sakaki telling her stories about myths and legends. Sometimes when she was with her little brother, the other girls came in and bothered her, wanting to talk. About him, about her, about themselves.
It annoyed her. All she wanted was to follow her obligation as the older sibling, to watch over him. It was her responsibility, after all.
(She just didn't want to lose any more family. Her mother died, her father abandoned her and then died, and now her little brother, the one she has only known for almost two years now, the one that saved her, and was hurt for her, and hurt by her, the one that she was abandoned for, the one that she would abandon for, the one that was an idiot that just wanted to save everyone but himself, but was crushed by his incapability, was in a coma again, way longer than before, and she just, there was do much she still wanted to say, so much she still wanted to do--)
But even her body was against her. Case in point: she was currently retching up blood into a bloody piece of cloth, a handkerchief if she recalled.
It wasn't exactly a unique experience. It had been happening more often lately, sometimes once every few hours now. Luckily, it never seemed to occur whenever someone else was around. She wasn't sure what she'd do if someone found her like this, and insisted she be hospitalized.
She knew that it was a result of her biology as a human-Aragami hybrid. As subtle as Sakaki tried to be about it, she could tell that the medical check-ups he has her undergo were different to the standard person's. They were far more in line with those of God Eaters, and those she underwent at the old Einsbern residence. Not as bad, of course, but the main focus was the same: her Oracle Cells and how they interact with her otherwise human cells.
It was that interaction that had weakened her constitution, that had forced her into a wheelchair, and had now forced her to cough up her life in bursts of red.
Taking the handkerchief away from her mouth, she gave little attention to the red blood staining, reminiscent of her mother's eyes and her own. Instead, she chose to continue watching her younger brother as he rested. A regular Sleeping Beauty, she thinks someone called him once. She couldn't help but agree.
He wasn't necessarily beautiful, at least not in the sense of a heroine from one of the stories Sakaki had read her. But he was beautiful in the sense that he had an exotic appearance. She thought she now understood how people felt looking at her. She had a unique colour palette, being a proper albino, red eyes and all. But Shirou was different.
The entire time she knew him, he always looked different. First with his red hair and golden eyes that surprised her, considering all she had known was others that looked like her and her father's rather drab black hair and eyes. Then with his mismatched, two-tone appearance. Red and white hair, silver and gold eyes, pale and tan skin. All juxtaposing, all colliding, looking like a war between two sides for their right to exist.
Then there was the him now, eerily reminiscent of that spectre she remembered from long ago. He was now exotic in a way that can be called uniform, different to the chaotic appearance he had before he... well, before he fell into a coma. Now, he looked like a foreigner more than ever.
His somewhat sharp face had sharpened even further, shedding the fat of his youth. His eyes had also narrowed, removing the slanted quality generally associated with those of Far Eastern descent. If one were to compare his appearance now to his appearance then, no one would blame them for thinking they're entirely different people. The only commonality was his weird eyebrows though.
As she giggled at how silly his eyebrows were, the sound of the door sliding open alerted her. Looking up, she saw the regal face of one Saber. Internally panicking, she brought the bloody handkerchief towards her lap and out of sight, smoothing out her face all the while.
"Ah... Illyasviel, is that you? Sorry to disturb you."
Saying so, she stepped into the room, the stray strand of hair atop her head bouncing around in rhythm with her steps.
"Hello, Saber. What brings you here?"
Illya said that while trying to keep a cool face. The only thing that could give her away would be the slight tapping of her feet against her wheelchair.
"I came to see Shirou, and if anyone that knows Shirou would know where he did his old experiments."
"Ah. Sorry, I don't know. But I do remember Taiga grumbling about how she and Sakura would have to wake him up from the lab every now and then."
"Hmm. Okay. Thank you for telling me."
"..."
If you have what you need, then what are you still doing here!?
That was the general line of thought Illya's mind was following. Of course, on the outside she was smiling politely, not letting her true thoughts show.
Doing so, she silently watched through half-lidded eyes as Saber elegantly moved towards Shirou. Slowly, she reached out towards his face, gently moving aside some hair that Illya had strategically placed to lay on his forehead, damn you- and when that was done, she reached for his left hand, the one closest to her.
Instead of grasping his hand, she lay hers upon his Armlet, fingers resting millimetres above his wrist, above his arteries, above where the Oracle Cell Erosion was at its worst, pitching his already tanned skin into a shade of brown approaching charcoal, killing him, slowly slowly slowly, you'll join him soo-
"Illya?"
Snapping her eyes open -when did she close her eyes-, she took in the sight of Saber's worried expression. Her emerald gaze trying to pry into Illya's ruby one, her hand reaching out, caressing Illya's face, shifting to her forehead-
"Illya, are you okay? You're burning up."
No no no-
"I-I'm fine. I suppose I have been a little hot today, but that's all."
A lie, today had been quite chilly, but that doesn't matter, stick the landing, deliver that winning smile-
cough
"Illya? Are you-"
"I'm -wheeze-fine!!"
cough cough
"I-I swear!!"
cough cough hack
"Sho pleashe-"
bring up cloth, empty mouth, keep talking, please
"Please don't take me away from my brother!"
eyes burn, throat hurts, chest aches, doesn't matter, please please please please-
"Illya, calm down! Illya!"
can't calm down, breathing too fast, can't breathe, in out in out nothing coming in breathe breathe breathe breathe please please pleaseplease
"Help! Nurse!"
no no no no help don't help they'll take me away brother brother brother little brother pleasepleasepleaseplease
"Don't worry. You'll be fine... I promise."
no i won't won't be alright not until he's there with her family she wants her family back don't want to lose any more family please
And then, all was black.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
A solitary noise, now joined by another. Solitary no longer.
A lonely boy, now joined by a lonely girl. Yet lonely still.
A family forced apart, that grew apart, that tried to mend together, now forced together. Forced together in a way no one wanted.
A time limit set, now reaching its end. To the dismay of those that know, to the despair of those that do not.
But at least, it will not be solitary, nor lonely. They will be together until they are apart, until the end of their time.
He stood upon a hill. The hill was surrounded by grass. Grass, with sandy shoals dotted about, each connected by a pristine river, and each with a blade stabbed into the water. Monuments, to thoughts, to feelings, to ideals, and to people.
He wasn't the only thing upon that hill. Behind him were two blades, one black as night and the other as white as the moon. He was standing before them, looking on at this world that was as much his own as it was that person's.
Speaking of...
"Looks like you're finally coming too. Did you enjoy your nap?"
The boy, the man, his partner, his wielder, opened his eyes.
"...Archer?"
"Of course. Who else?"
"Psh. I don't know... Illya?"
"Ah yes. I am your cute, beloved little sister with the pale skin and red eyes. Are you okay, Onii-chan?"
Saying the last line in a terrible falsetto, the two broke down laughing. It felt like a few minutes passed before either started to wind down.
"cough -Ha ha- cough -S-Shut up, asshole. Help me up."
Sticking out his hand, Archer obliged and brought him up. Steadying himself, Shirou looked around his heart, his soul, his world, and...
"Huh. This place doesn't look as good as last time."
The sun seemed dimmer despite the absence of clouds. The water looked more sluggish, the blades seemed duller, the gears seemed slower... not enough to be a problem, but enough that it was noticeable. As well as that...
"It's closer."
The white horizon had encroached upon the eternal plains. Instead of being some far-off phenomena, it was now close enough that he could reach it after a 10-minute jog.
"It is. You've been out for quite a while."
Archer says so, gesturing to his arms. Looking down, Shirou saw how his pure tan skin was interrupted around the wrists by a gauntlet of blades, piercing through his skin.
"How long?"
"..."
Archer's silence gave him enough of an answer. But still...
"Well. Better late than never to wake up, right?"
"...yeah."
Archer looks to Shirou with a slight smile.
"Hey, Shirou."
"...yeah, Archer?"
"No regrets, right?"
"...no regrets. This is the path I have chosen."
The two stared at each other for what felt like a minute, before smiling at each other. Shirou turned away and closed his eyes, prepared to depart.
As his senses faded away, he barely heard Archer mutter out another worried statement before his vision faded to black.
Left alone once again on that grassy hill, Archer watched into the horizon, prepared for whatever his partner would have to face. Prepared to be drawn once more, for the sake of his partner's beliefs.
He watched on.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The first thing he recognised was the piercing sound of the heartbeat monitor right next to him. The beeping felt like it was drilling into his brain, highlighting all of his discomforts.
The next thing he recognised, then, were those discomforts. His throat felt slightly swollen, and his mouth felt dry as a desert. His body was both numb and aching, which was an incredibly unpleasant experience in itself. His arms especially hurt, feeling like they were freshly burnt. His eyes also felt numb.
Oh yeah, he couldn't see. No wonder, he supposed. His eyes were closed.
Beep-eep. Beep-eep. Beep-eep.
Trying to move somewhat, he worked at his fingers and toes. After a little bit, he managed to get the tips of them to move a little. And after a little more, he even managed to curl his pointer finger. Accompanying that was a crack that seemed to echo in his ears and through his body. It seemed he had stayed still long enough for his fingers to develop oxygen bubbles in the bones.
Mustering his strength, he decided to try and open his eyes.
Be-beep-ep. B-beep-ee-beep-p. Beep-be-beep-ep.
Hm? That was odd. The sound of the heart monitor was all off. It didn't sound constant at all. There was the noise he had heard earlier, but there seemed to be another just like it, further away and faster.
Pouring more strength into his eyelids, Shirou managed to crack them open a centimetre, almost blinding himself with the light he saw and making him reflexively close his eyes again.
Bee-beepbeepbeep-p. Be-beepbeepbeep-ep. B-beepbeepbeep-eep.
Wait. It sounds the same? Then that means... am I sharing a room with someone?
Shirou's thoughts then quickly took a turn.
But their heaetbeat's way faster than mine... is something happening to them!?
The thought that someone was in trouble spurred Shirou onwards. Even if he acknowledged that he likely couldn't do anything to help the person, that didn't mean he wouldn't try. Pushing past his discomfort, he opened his eyes.
The familiar green of the walls greeted his blurry vision, but that wasn't important. Someone needed help. Holding onto that thought, Shirou tried to move his body, only managing to jerk his right arm and leg towards the wall.
There was another resounding crack throughout his body, but that didn't matter. Again.
He pushed himself again. He tried moving his right side again, tried rolling over. Anything.
All he managed was to numbly move his body an inch. And make a fair bit of noise.
Actually...
While Shirou was still determinedly focusing on moving and the beeping of the heart-rate monitor, it seemed he had missed the other particular noises in the room. That is...
"Shirou...?"
A quiet voice called. To her, the question seemed to echo throughout the room, but to him, it didn't even register. But to someone else in the room...
Be-beep-ep. B-beep-ee-beep-p. Beep-be-beep-ep.
"S-Shi..."
Then, with a weak cry, Shirou managed to fling his arm out of the bed. Grasping onto the edge of the bed, he attempted to leverage himself out of it. As he was halfway through, gasping, he looked up to see an indistinct figure before him.
Beep-eep. Beep-eep. Beep-eep.
With much less strength than what he started with, he brought his left arm out towards the figure, his palm facing them in a silent plea for help.
Not hearing their put-upon sigh, or their huff of his name, he continued to stare at the figure. Actually, with all of the sudden movement he was forcing upon his until-then-comatose body, he couldn't hear much of anything beyond his heartbeat and static. But if he couldn't hear his own monitor, then what abou-
The feeling of someone's flesh against his own stole his attention. The figure that he could barely make out beyond the colour blue had taken his hand and moved closer to him. They laid their other hand upon his back, and pushed him back up to sitting position.
Be-Beep-ep B-Beep-eep. Beep.
Unfortunately, he wasn't in much of a position to resist.
But, unlike what he worried they were going to do, they followed up by turning his body around so he was facing the wall, and then tried to push him up. Using up near the rest of his limited energy, Shirou brought his legs off of the bed, onto the ground, and tried to stand. In his opinion, he got pretty far. In his helper's opinion... not so much.
Beee-Beep-eep. B-Beep-eeee-Beep-ep.
Before he hit the ground after his knees collapsed, the stranger caught him, grip almost painful on his arm. The hand that was on his back wrapped around to grab his side, and his arm they were holding was brought up to and over their shoulder.
Unbeknownst to him, a concern he wasn't privy to flitted across his helper's mind. Some of it was for him, but the rest of it...
The only sign Shirou had that something might be wrong, with his sight and hearing shot, was the jittery grip of his helper- tightening and loosening with no rhythm. Something was wrong, as he thought.
Trying to put as little of his weight on his helper as possible, Shirou struggled upwards and inwards, ultimately putting the majority of his weight on his helper. Not that his weight was particularly much at this point.
Then, slowly, like pulling teeth, one step, then another and another. Over and over, until eventually...
"Ah..."
Beeee-Beep-eee-Beep-eeee-Beep-eep.
He still couldn't see properly. His eyes were trying to focus, but all he saw were vague blobs of colour in the shapes of people and objects. Around the white shape he recognised as a bed, he saw a blur of red, a blur of purple, a blur of orange, a brown blur, and several white ones that matched the bed. There was a feeling like eyes were on him, but he didn't pay attention to that. Instead, he brought his attention back to the bed.
It was a white blur, made of varying shades. What he thought were the blankets were a darker shade than what he identified as the mattress. And in between the two, brighter than either, was another blur.
He felt something clench his heart.
He couldn't see properly. He couldn't see who or what was in the bed. He couldn't know.
But he knew that shade of white. It was one he made sure to spend as much time with as possible every day.
He wanted to stay. He wanted to run away.
He wanted to memorize this, carve it into his mind. He wanted to close his eyes, return to a dreamless sleep and forget.
He wanted-
He reached out a hand, to caress her face, to hold her hand, to comfort her, to do anything.
And, eventually, he felt something reach out to join it. It was hot. It was blistering. It was a warmth that spoke not of life, nor of terrible destruction, but of an internal struggle, an infernal defence. A pyrrhic victory.
Nothing but a loss.
At some point, he felt another warmth. Instead of it being in his hand, blazing yet weak, it was in his eyes, on his face. It was dripping down his cheeks, onto his chin, leaving trails of flame.
He was shivering.
His hand was shivering.
The hand he was holding was shivering.
There was a squeeze from the hand.
He opened his eyes.
In that instance, time seemed to freeze. He couldn't move. Nothing else was moving. He couldn't wipe his tears, or comfort that girl, or anything.
Yet, he could see. His blurry vision, that should have only been worsened by his tears, could perfectly capture the image before him.
Long white hair. Slightly greasier than he remembers, and more ragged, as if she hadn't been taking care of it recently. Yet still elegant.
Pale skin. Paler than he remembered, and thinner too. Has she not been eating right? Yet still petite.
Ruby red eyes. Duller than he remembers, as if a certain spark was missing. But there was now a new spark in her eyes, one even brighter, yet certainly more short-lived. Crinkled in joy, and still dazzling.
And...
A smile. Positively radiant. The most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
His friend.
His family.
His little sister.
His...
"...Illya."
Her smile brightened even further, bright enough to blind. She opened her mouth to call for him, squeezing his hand once more.
"Shirou."
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
And called no more.
A woman walked around a house, socked feet padding on the wooden floor. She had brown hair, and an ensemble of green and yellow clothing. And she was...
"Ugh! Where is it!? I'm gonna be late!"
Late. And looking for something. But what could it have been? She checked her pockets twice, thrice.
She had her money, she had her keys, and she had her emergency food. So what could it be? She rushes to the kitchen.
"Knife? No. Apron? No. Some wonderful leftover food that could last for years? Nope."
Standing up, she dusted off her knees before hauling ass towards the other end of the house. Her destination? His room! Where he... barely spent any time... hm...
Whatever. She's got this.
Bursting into his room for the umpteenth time -once more wincing at how barebones it was- she made a beeline for his closet. Opening the door, she found that it was... empty.
Which, you know, makes sense considering...
"Ah! Right! The dojo!"
Moving fast enough to put a God Eater to shame, the woman moved to the end of the house where the dojo resided. Pushing past the paper doors and into the almost regal atmosphere of the dojo, the woman made her way towards the wooden swords held in a mantle on the wall. Stopping before the wall, she looked downward, towards a table that held two framed photos.
One showed two figures. A young boy with red hair and golden eyes, standing next to a much older man dressed in near all black. In the corner of the photograph was a brown blur, as if someone was trying to jump in. It was a happy photo.
The other showed a larger group. An older man with red hair and a white coat, an older woman with brown hair and a yellow shirt, three teenage-looking girls with blonde, brown, and purple hair, a younger man with white and red hair, and a young girl with white hair in a wheelchair. They were all bundled up together, with the young girl in the centre, the young man directly behind her, and everyone else spread around them. It was also a happy photo.
Kneeling, the ridiculous woman smiled sadly at the two, before gingerly reaching out and taking hold of the photograph. She stares at it for a bit before nodding. This is the one.
Standing, she brushed off her knees before turning around, exiting the dojo the way she came. As she did, her gaze happened to wander upwards towards the clock above the doorway.
...
"I'M LATE!!!"
"She's late."
A disappointed sigh flowed among the group of five. A mishmash of colours grouped together, conflicting with the dreary brown of the desert beyond and the calming blue of the sky above.
"I mean, of course she's late. Wouldn't really be Taiga if she wasn't, right? That's why we made sure to tell her we were meeting now instead of later," responded the ginger man in the white coat. His grin showed that he clearly empathized with the target of everyone's ire. After all, he used to be quite the slacker himself.
"That does not excuse her being late, Kota. You should know better, being a squad captain, and so should she for being a grown woman," chastised a blonde girl in blue, looking to be in her teenage years.
"Saber's right, Kota. Someone like you could use the excuse that you're a God Eater, and God Eaters are always busy. But Fujimura is a school teacher, and school's on break right now! Honestly..." So says the resident brunette beauty, commonly known as the Red Devil for her colour palette and nasty temper.
"Ah... now, now... Rin, Saber, I'm certain Fujimura-sensei has a good reason for being late. I hope..." The soft-spoken interjection came from the beautiful woman with purple hair and a white dress. Dressed to impress, she stood out amongst the group of oddities.
"..." The fifth member of the group silently watched the squabbling of the other four, a gentle smile on his face.
So, as time passed, so too did the topic of discussion, until eventually...
"HEEEYYY!!"
A brown blur appeared on the scene, fast enough to even take the God Eaters by surprise. Only breathing slightly heavier than usual, the ridiculous Taiga Fujimura was on the scene.
"Where have you been!?"
"Hah~ Calm down, Rin. I just had to get something, that's all. I definitely didn't sleep in today and forget that I had something to do today, alright?"
"Uh... huh..."
Blank looks all around.
But, as it always does, conversation sprung forth. About the past, about the present, odds and ends, all sorts of things. Anything and everything in the comfortable atmosphere between the group of friends. Until, eventually...
"Do you... really have to go?"
The question was soft, and could barely be heard, but seemed to pierce through the ears of all present, cutting off any conversation. Sakura looked down, not wanting to meet anyone's eyes as she asked a selfish question.
Rin and Saber shared glances, before looking to Sakura, prepared to repeat the same song and dance as before.
"Sakura-"
"No, I understand. I know why you two are going, because you want to become stronger and refine your skills, and you'll have an easier time doing that at a bigger branch than the Far East, but..." Her gaze shifted to the only person that hadn't spoken so far.
"But why do you have to go too, Senpai?"
At that, the girls went silent. Because, in reality, no one knew why he was going with them. When he heard that the two were transferring to the Europe Branch, he nodded, said he would go with them, then left to talk to Sakaki. When he came back, he said that he was coming with them, and that was that. He never answered them when asked why, just shrugged and said, "Because I want to." Would this be any different?
With the question in mind, everyone turned towards him. He had his eyes closed, clearly thinking about it, before letting out a sigh and opening his eyes, scratching the back of his neck.
"I... I have to go. Because... if I don't, I think something bad's going to happen to you two..."
The explanation was... not very well received.
"So... you're coming because you don't think we can take care of ourselves? Is that it, Shirou?"
"I must agree. That you are leaving everyone here because you are worried for us... It is quite insulting, Shirou."
"Shirou... I thought I raised you better than that."
"Senpai..."
"Come on, Shirou... You can't be saying stuff like that to the ladies..."
"W-Wait! You all have the wrong idea!!"
The disappointment was cloying. Shirou brought up his hands to futilely defend himself from everyone's ire.
"Listen! It's not... it's not that I don't trust you two. It's just..." He grit his teeth, before continuing, "You two are going to Europe to get stronger. To be better. I want to become stronger too. To become better. But..."
Everyone's eyes were drawn to the yellow tape wrapping around his Armlets; the symbol of a retired God Eater.
"I can't fight anymore, at least not safely. And I know that none of you want me to keep fighting when fighting anymore could kill me. But that doesn't mean I can't still help. I can still help out with tune ups on your God Arcs, and can even still touch them safely. And, if I come with you guys, then maybe they have more research on trying to reverse Oracle Cell Erosion."
He brings his hands down and scratches the back of his neck once more.
"I'm doing it for me, okay? It's entirely selfish," he clarifies in a voice without reproach.
His words were greeted with silence, and looking up he expected disappointment for his goals. Instead of that, he received soft smiles and proud looks. To them, he was really starting to live for something less self-destructive. Of course, he never said he was going to stop trying to help others, or even that his intentions didn't directly feed into helping out others.
But they could tell. He meant it when he said it was purely selfish. And they couldn't find it in themselves to truly chastise him for it.
Shirou was surprised, when he really shouldn't have been. These guys, his family... of course they would understand.
"Besides... we'll all meet again, won't we? We'll only be at the Europe Branch for a few years before we come back to the Far East. So, don't worry about it, alright? I promise, we'll all come back."
He delivered that with a smile, small but genuine. And at the same time...
"Ah. It's here."
The satellite bus that would take the trio to the local airport had arrived. And so, their goodbyes had begun.
Sakura offered the three gentle hugs and promises to eat and sleep properly.
Kota threw arms around their shoulders, and orders to live and fight.
And Taiga offered explosive goodbyes. Running hugs, hard pats on the back, comedic tears. And...
"Oh yeah, Shirou!"
Turning around, Shirou saw Taiga holding her hand out, a framed photograph within. Raising a brow, Shirou reached out to take it.
"What's this?"
"It's a going away gift! Why I was late, y'know? Something to remember us by!"
Taking the photograph, Shirou turned it over to look at. Taking in the whole picture, his eyes focused on a single point.
Taiga knew exactly what he was looking at.
10 seconds passed, and then another 5, but eventually...
He smiled.
He looked up from the photo to see his big sister standing in front of him, giving him a comforting smile.
His eyes softened as the wind blew, shaking his hair out of it's slicked-back perch. Looking at him like this, one could easily see that he was Shirou Emiya and no other.
"Thanks, Fuji-nee."
Turning around, Shirou stepped towards the bus before looking upwards one last time.
No regrets. This is the path I have chosen.
He stepped onto the bus.
The path to the future.
And, done. That's a wrap on Blade of Fenrir. Thank you for reading.
So, it's been... 7 months since I last updated. Was all of that time spent writing? Hell no. I'm just a lazy asshole. But I did have to deal with my finals, and I did start university, so I guess that's a thing.
Let's see... bullet points.
1. Like with all my chapters that come out after a long time, I was in different spaces of mind when writing, so the chances that the chapter feels disjointed in tone is a bit high. Case in point, the first half of this chapter feels really prose-heavy, and I quite like it, but it kinda dropped off after the Illya part.
2. The character PoV order once more mimics the order from the HF arc aftermath.
3. Kinda surprised Kota is still a part of the 'main cast'. That certainly wasn't my intention when I first wrote him into the story.
4. In case it was vague, which it was kinda meant to be, the picture Taiga gave Shirou was the one of the whole group rather than just Shirou and Kiritsugu.
Without further ado, thank you Raider301, RegulusDX, , bylystar123321, kiznaiver, 3timesawarrior, drubengene, BlueXtreme, G0rz, 9unknown, Leon-Negro-01-06, JACK EL DESTRIPADOR and 2-0, harisnorw, TheChoZenFive, Zirox17, aminashish00, Fleightfire, Tasaiya, LitchKing788, dragonngo, Isaac Lee2, FreshlyCutLawn, HLBRS-H, Dasgun, Dragon Bone Z, and helioskrill2088 for favouriting or following. And thanks animefan255 for the review. Yeah, autocorrect's a bitch turning Rin into Ron.
And, that's it. Thanks for sticking with the story long enough to get this far. All that would be left are omakes, so yeah.
This is Cee, signing off.
See ya.
Word count: 10018