"Lancer is dead."
Shirou's brow rose as Tohsaka unceremoniously stepped into his dining room and dropped down across the table from him. He hadn't seen her for days. Apparently, she'd been very busy.
"Did you—"
"It wasn't Archer," she answered. Shirou frowned.
"Then... who could it be?"
Tohsaka shrugged. "I don't know. The only other pair I know of is the one you already know—the Einzbern girl and her Berserker."
"Onii-chan, listen to me very carefully. Do not trust her."
"Tohsaka?"
The crimson glare intensified. "No. Your Servant."
"Huh?"
"She doesn't belong here. Do not trust her."
Shirou blinked. "Y-Yeah. Right, them." He inhaled slowly before speaking next. "Do you think we should approach them for an alliance?"
The look that Tohsaka gave him could have made a tree shed its leaves in fear. "Just so I understand you correctly, Emiya, you mean the Berserker who nearly slaughtered us and the Master who almost kidnapped you, right? That's who you want to ally with?"
"I... I feel like it's worth a shot."
"Let him go on his own, Master." He scowled as Archer faded in, standing next to Tohsaka with an arm cocked on his hip and a glare in his eyes.
"Not happening," she replied.
Shirou pushed himself up and away from the table, walking to the kitchen to brew another pot of tea. It'd be impolite not to serve Tohsaka... and Archer too, maybe.
"If he wants to get himself dissected, that's his prerogative," Archer continued. "We have a War to win."
A cup of boiling water would be good enough for him, right?
The thought made him freeze for a moment before he turned on the faucet to fill the electric kettle.
Stop that. Just because he... bothers me this much doesn't mean I have to be rude.
"No," she stated firmly. "He's my responsibility. I'm the one who got him into this mess, I'm the one who's going to get him out."
'Agency' isn't a word in her dictionary, I guess...
Shirou grimaced. That line of thinking was not only rude but very unfair to Tohsaka. She didn't deserve that. He was really slipping up today.
"Suit yourself." Archer shrugged. "Let me know if you change your mind."
With that, he faded away once more, leaving the two of them in relative silence. He leaned against the counter and sighed.
Maybe I didn't get enough sleep last night.
"Emiya," Tohsaka called out.
"Yeah?"
"Where is your Servant?"
"I..." He looked around. "She's normally here..."
The kettle automatically turned off with a click, and he pulled out three teacups.
"We're clearly not in a normal situation," she said sharply. "Call for her."
"Right."
As he poured out the hojicha tea, he searched his mind for the bond between him and his Servant (a relatively recent discovery). It was a thin string, but it felt as if it could hold even the greatest of weights. He pulled against it gently.
Yes, Master?
They weren't anywhere near each other, but having her voice in his head sent shivers down his spine. There was something... far too powerful in her tone. And she had become uncomfortably enamored with calling him by that title rather than his name, as of late.
Would you mind coming home? Tohsaka wants to talk... strategy, I guess.
Mm... I will be there shortly.
Thank you.
A welcoming smile echoed through that line, something that made his chest warm in a way he couldn't (didn't want to?) understand. He turned away from... what? Something. The blush that spread on his face was something he had to hide, though from where he wasn't sure.
Tohsaka, definitely.
"She'll be here soon," he said quietly, and walked over with two cups in hand. Handing one to the other Master, who accepted it with a nod, he set the other cup beside his own seat and went back to the kitchen. Nothing was spoken further, even as he returned to the table, third cup covered by a silicon cap.
He cradled his own cup, staring into his reflection as Tohsaka sipped at her tea. There was nothing interesting about it—it was just him, Shirou Emiya. The person he had known all his life. The one who was saved, the one who dreamed of saving.
He took a sip.
The air shifted.
Tohsaka flinched.
With a brush of her fingers against his shoulders, his Servant declared her presence to him.
"Once more, you have called for me," she said. "Once more, I have answered. What would you have me do... my Master?"
That word had never felt so taboo as it did falling out of her lips. Shirou looked away from her, drinking from his tea and trying not to think of her hands on him when he slept or when he cried or when he sat too deeply in thought. She was... too much. Far too much.
"She doesn't belong here."
"Glad you finally decided to show up," Tohsaka said with more than a hint of annoyance. "First thing's first: did you kill Lancer?"
"Were I only so lucky," she said with a sigh, taking a seat next to him. "Oh, you kept it warm for me? Thank you."
"You're welcome." He brought his focus to a corner of the room. All he had to do was not look at her. If he didn't look, then nothing would happen. Easy.
"Okay, have you seen anything strange recently?" Tohsaka continued, annoyance growing.
"Nothing of note," the Servant answered calmly.
"Encountered any other Servants or Masters?" Tohsaka insisted. "Something, anything useful?"
For some reason, Shirou found himself reluctant to breathe until someone else broke the silence.
"Have you asked my Master these questions yet?" she finally replied.
"No, why would I?"
His stomach twisted at that.
"He and I have been together for almost the entirety of the War. There is little I have seen that he hasn't."
"You're a Servant, though. You can see more, you know more—Emiya barely knows what he's doing!"
...that hurt.
Inexperienced, he was, but he was still trying his damn hardest. Tohsaka didn't make it easy on him by disappearing for so long. If he was supposedly 'her responsibility', then—
Stop. Do not be ungrateful. You're barely a magus at all, and you got thrown into this thing by accident. The best you can hope for is to survive.
"Mm." His Servant took a sip of her tea. "Very well-brewed."
"Thank you," Shirou said automatically.
"You didn't answer my question," Tohsaka pushed.
"Perhaps it would be more fruitful to move on from questions you already know the answers to."
Tohsaka fumed before clicking her tongue. "Tsk. Fine. Archer and I have been investigating the disappearances—we've found some traces of magecraft being used but nothing concrete. Caster would be the obvious guess, but we don't want to make assumptions."
"Mm." Another sip. Shirou followed suit.
An awkward silence arrived and stretched on for a microeternity. He drank from his own cup until it was empty, trying to drown the uncomfortableness out. It didn't work.
"Okay, screw this," Tohsaka finally declared, slamming her hands on the table and rising. "Emiya, let's go, we're having a private chat."
"What? Why?"
"Just come with me!" She stomped out and violently opened the door, not even bothering to shut it again.
What the hell is wrong with her? This is my house!
He shook his head to push away the negative thoughts and quickly looked to his Servant. Her soft, warm smile reassured him. With her support, he too left the dining room (shutting the door behind him like a civil human being) and, finding one of the doors down the hallway open, he made his way to Tohsaka.
The other Master closed the door behind him a little more considerately than she had earlier, which he appreciated. The room was empty save for a single desk at the wall opposite the door. He didn't remember what he had last used this space for. Maybe to study in?
Tohsaka snapped her fingers, drawing his attention to her intensely annoyed expression and burning the little goodwill she had generated.
"You need to get your Servant under control," she said.
He took a deep breath to steady himself. "What do you mean?"
"What I mean is that she doesn't listen—she just acts how she likes." Tohsaka started to pace around the room. "You can't let that happen. I had to show Archer who's boss with a command seal right after I summoned him. You're the Master, it's your job to get her under control."
"But… I don't feel like she's out of control?" he pointed out hesitantly.
Tohsaka stopped, inhaled deeply, and exhaled with a hiss, pinching her nose. "Okay, so I overestimated you again. That was my fault."
No, I just don't think you want to listen to me.
He had to remind himself that that was unkind, and that he was supposed to be clearing his mind of those thoughts.
"Listen to me very carefully, Emiya." Now she had gotten right in his face. A few weeks ago this might have made him blush and stutter an apology, but he'd been in much more intimate contact since. "You need to reign her in or I'm going to break our alliance."
Are you kidding me?
"Hey now." He held up his hands in surrender. "No need to do anything rash. Let's be calm about this."
"Please don't talk to me like I'm about to explode," she said coldly. "Because I'm not."
"Sure, okay... whatever you say..."
"Do you want me to hit you?"
Shirou let his hands fall, taking a moment to breathe.
"Why do you want to break our alliance?" he asked softly. "What's the issue?"
"Because I don't want to have to baby an amateur Master—who's also a garbage magus—and his insubordinate Servant. I can find better things to spend my time on."
Now tell us how you really feel.
"Um, you were the one who stuck yourself to me?"
Tohsaka cocked an arm on one hip. "Because you were so lost and confused that I just had to do something for you. But I've fulfilled that obligation now. I owe you nothing, and the kindest thing I can do for you is take you out of this War as cleanly as possible."
Shirou's fist tightened. "So, what, you're going to kill me?"
"I will do what I must to win this war." Her hard gaze locked with his. "If you aren't with me, then you're my enemy."
The silence returned, much heavier than before. Tohsaka's face was carved with lines of tension, and he could feel his frown deepen. This was wrong. They were supposed to be allies, but, what, that meant nothing to her at all? She treated him like this and expected him to be okay with that? What did she even want? What was the point?
No. I'm not going to take this anymore. I'm done.
"Please close the door on your way out."
For a moment, he could have sworn something like shock and hurt rippled through her expression. But it passed in an instant, and the only thing left was barely-hidden rage.
"Fine." Tohsaka flicked her hair behind her shoulders again. "Try not to die like an idiot."
Acid was on the tip of his tongue, but he clamped his jaw shut. No matter how she treated him, Tohsaka didn't deserve that. She stormed out of the room and slammed the door closed. He kept his breathing normal as her footsteps grew quieter. Only once the front door was closed did he let out a sigh.
Despite all that... I hope she'll be okay.
The door opened again, and Shirou looked up to see his Servant entering, closing the door behind her.
"Negotiations failed, then," she stated.
"She wanted me to order you to…" He stopped to think for a moment. "You know, I'm not exactly sure what it was. I think she wanted you to listen to her."
"Of course I listen to her." She put a palm to her chest. "It is my duty to provide respite to weary souls. But… she is not my Master, and I do not take orders from her."
"Right." He nodded, leaning on the desk. "But, still… we just lost our only ally."
It hadn't been as easy as he thought to let her go. A coldness was settling in his chest. It didn't feel good. It felt like he had done wrong. Wasn't she… Tohsaka… important? What happened to those feelings he'd harbored for so long? Why had he been so uncharitable to her? She was a good person, no matter how she treated him.
"An ally."
He looked up. "Huh?"
His Servant leaned toward him. "We have lost an ally. This does not preclude the possibility that we will forge another alliance."
She sat on the desk right beside him, and he moved over to give her some more room to sit rather than cramp her into the corner. But she followed him, not letting the distance between them widen an inch more.
"Do not see this as a loss," she said, running a hand down his arm. Her voice had returned to the telltale timbre of temptation. "This is an opportunity. Without her, you are free to approach the War however you wish."
"Mm."
Her words weren't wrong, but they didn't soften the numbness in his chest.
Old man… am I… still a good person?
"You are unconvinced," she noted.
"Sorry." He winced, shaking his head. "I'm just… I don't know… I don't feel right. I don't know what's going on."
She got off the desk, moved before him, and wrapped her arms around him. He stiffened. They hadn't been this close since that night, and he wasn't ready—
"More than unconvinced, you are disturbed."
"I'm… not comfortable with this."
She pulled back just an inch to look at him, and once more Shirou was stunned by the depth of her golden eyes—suffocating in them. He had to stop himself from checking if there were hands on his throat.
"Why don't we go for a walk?" she asked.
"A patrol, you mean?"
A shake of her head. "No. I wish to walk away from the War for a little while."
Shirou blinked. "Uh... sure, okay. Anywhere in particular?"
She smiled softly. "Let us go see if I can still feel the sand between my toes. If you don't mind, that is, Master."
"Of course not."
[Was there anything to fear, all along?]
The sun was only just beginning to approach the horizon when they arrived at the beach. It was a warm day for winter—he ended up needing nothing more than a long-sleeved shirt and pants. With no plans to go in the water, he hadn't brought anything else with him. Not that he really knew off the top of his head what to bring—he'd rarely gone to the beach in his life.
Shirou shaded his eyes with a hand and stared out at the sea.
All the way out there... is someone watching the same sunset as me?
The murmuring sand beside him spoke of his approaching companion.
"Mmm... well now... how surprising."
Shirou turned to ask, but her outfit tore the question right out of his mouth. She was wearing something other than her nun habit for the first time—a white sundress that reached down to her knees and a matching cartwheel hat. She walked barefoot in the sand, every step deliberate, and her dress rippled in the gentle breeze.
"Huh?" he asked intelligently.
"I can feel it," she said, staring down at the sand. "Not the discrete grains, but their motion beneath me, their… temperature."
Her gaze moved to him. She wore a smile, a wide one. It was a smile he'd never seen on her before. She'd shown many seductive smirks that stirred something deep inside of him—something he hated acknowledging. But this smile wore no veils, no whispers twining down his spine.
"I see... that's good, right?"
She nodded. "It's... novel. A pleasant novelty. Perhaps..."
A few more strides had her feet in the water, and she let out a tinkling laugh unlike anything he'd heard before. He couldn't help but follow in her wake, though he made sure not to forget to take off his footwear and roll up his pants. It was frigid. Instantly he recoiled and made to jump out.
"It's that bad, is it?" she asked. That made him stop and stand in place. Yes, it hurt, but she was standing here just fine.
"I can take it."
She tilted her head, staring levelly at him. "Are you sure?"
"C-Completely." The effect was lessened by the uncontrollable shudder that ran through him as frozen pinpricks climbed up his legs.
A shake of the head. "Come now, Master. Let's not put you in the hospital over misplaced pride."
"It's not p-pride!" But he followed her out anyway.
A gust of wind blew by, causing him to cover his eyes from the sand. When he looked up again, his Servant stood with her arms outstretched, embracing the wind like a long lost family member. No matter how much sand blew in her hair, she refused to turn away. Her hat kept threatening to fly off, but it could never quite bring itself to abandon her.
The wind died, and her arms fell.
"Did you feel that?" he asked after a while.
"Very much so," she replied, disintegrating the sand coating her with a snap of her fingers. "It was awful."
"But you did it anyway."
The corner of her lip curled upward. "Rare is the moment where absence is more valuable than presence."
Shirou considered that. "What about silence?"
She shook her head. "The silence so often sought by others is not silence, it is a reduction in sound. Only the deaf know true silence, and few would wish such a fate upon themselves—even temporarily."
He put his hand to his chin and thought again. "I guess the same would apply to wanting privacy... hm..."
She glanced at him, then turned and approached him once more. "Perhaps a different approach would impress the concept upon you."
He took a step back, his hands falling to his sides. "What do you mean?"
She was inside his personal space before she stopped, her eyes level with his own. He wanted to look away but that gaze pinned him down. Despite their similar heights, she always made him feel smaller than her, but at the same time she never made herself seem any larger in turn.
She held out a hand, palm facing upwards. "May I?"
A single breath's hesitation, and he placed his left hand on hers. Her fingers slowly curled around it, entrapping it within her palm, but lacking any real grip to hold him in place.
"Thank you," she said. "I'm going to disable the sensory nerve clusters in your hand now. You will retain full motor functionality, but you will feel nothing. Are you ready?"
Uh, no. Not in the slightest.
But she was trying to teach him something. The least he could do was listen.
Inhale.
Exhale.
He nodded. "I am."
The hand tightened its grip to a near painful degree before letting go, at which point the numbness settled in. It was deep, deeper than any he'd felt before. He flexed his fingers, forming a fist and then stretching them back as far as they could go, using his other hand to push them back even farther. He couldn't feel the muscles straining at all, even as the skin turned pale and white from the deep stretch.
"Fascinating, isn't it?" she asked, taking the hand in her own again. She slowly began to massage each finger one by one. It looked like he was supposed to feel something from that, but all he felt was the odd sensation of the skin folds near his wrist being pushed and pulled. "There is very clearly something there, but the silence is deafening. It becomes..."
She dragged a fingernail on his palm until the redness formed a kanji.
Nothing.
"And you...?" he left the question incomplete, but she clearly knew what he was asking.
"I lost most of my sense of touch at the age of seven," she affirmed, returning to her massage. "As I mentioned to you before, some things still remained, but they were a rarity, and..."
She stopped, and her hat tilted downwards until it blocked his vision of her face. She hadn't let go of the hand.
"Interesting." She was only just barely audible over the crash of the waves. "I... hm..."
"What's wrong?"
She didn't reply for a few moments.
"...it's an emptiness," she near-whispered, resuming her massage of his hand, but with what seemed like a gentler touch. "What is there is no longer, and what remains is absence."
He remained silent as she squeezed the hand.
"I never told you who I was," she finally said.
"You didn't?"
The hat shook from side to side, and she looked at him again. Her eyes were warm bronze, the burning hearth after a blizzard. She smiled softly.
"I envy your ability to trust others with the ease that you trusted me. I could not do the same."
Why did his chest suddenly feel so heavy?
"But..." he protested. "What about... I mean... when you first told me about this..."
"It is easy to speak of things that happened so long ago. My life is not one you could read about in the library, if you even knew where to look, so I had nothing to fear." She tilted her head to the side. "Do you know my name? My class container?"
"I..." His head hurt, and his heart pounded. He rubbed his forehead with his left hand. "Wait, hold on, what?"
"The Tohsaka's Servant is Archer," she said calmly. "The Einzbern's is Berserker. But you don't know who yours is."
"Eyes like yours..." she said softly, "It has been a long time since I have last seen them. I suppose you must be my Master, hm?"
His heart jumped into his throat.
"No..." he mumbled. "Why didn't you—"
"Because I cannot trust like you do." Her smile tinged with remorse. "Trust is an action, Shirou. More than that, it is a surrender."
She placed a hand on his chest.
"There is nothing left to surrender after that." She tapped on his chest in time with the rhythm of his heartbeat. "I have learned that, if left unguarded, trust is something easily stolen away from you, never to be seen again."
He swallowed through his dry throat. "Then... Do you trust me now?"
The heavy silence returned. She was looking down at where her finger pressed right above his heart, continuing to tap in time—ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump. Her smile had fallen, and now she only looked pensive.
I'm scared.
The realization was surprising at first, but it wasn't hard to unwrap the reason. He wanted their relationship to be on equal ground. He wanted the trust he gave her to be reciprocated. Realizing it wasn't there...
Oh... absence.
"My name," she stated, and he quickly looked back at her even though she had not moved her head an inch, "is Kiara Sessyoin."
The name was on his lips in an instant, but he did not speak it.
"I was killed before I had the chance to turn thirty," she continued. "Murdered for wanting to save the world."
"What...?" he muttered without thinking. "Why...?"
Kiara looked at him with a rueful smile. "No good deed goes unpunished."
"No, that can't be true," he said. "I was saved—"
"—by a man who did not live long past the act." Her expression hadn't changed. "There is nothing wrong with wanting to do good, Shirou, but every action has an equal and opposite reaction. One life for another."
"No!" he yelled and pushed her away, holding his head with both hands—the numbness hadn't gone away it bothered him but his head pounded it hurt—
"Shh."
Arms wrapped around him; one on his upper back and the other on his neck. She pulled him into her chest, and trapped in that space he was suddenly aware of how fast he was breathing.
A hand combed through his hair and down his neck.
"This does not mean you have no meaning or purpose, dear Master," she said quietly. "You, your father, myself, we are not the same. The world may turn in the same direction it always has, but your life is what you make of that world."
He attempted to push her away again, but she did not let go.
I'm scared.
"Please let me go," he said as calmly as he could.
"Are you going to run away from me?" she asked.
"No, I just... need some space. Please."
Kiara acceded, and he could stand up straight again. But before he could move away, she took his numb hand in hers once again and gripped it tightly. A thousand sensations shot from the hand up his arm, and he hissed and recoiled.
"Absence is a frightening thing, isn't it?" she asked quietly.
He rubbed his hand and nodded slowly, not meeting her eyes.
She sighed and bowed her head. "I am... sorry. That was an abuse of your trust."
"N-no, it's—"
"Please do not dismiss your feelings so quickly." She raised her head and stared at him with a firm gaze. "One day, you may find that they do not return when called for."
He looked away again. Finally, after a few heartbeats, he sighed and sat down in the sand. She followed him down, kneeling beside him but keeping a few handspans' distance between them. The sun was halfway down the horizon, coloring the clouds with vivid reds and yellows.
"Why did you answer me?" he whispered, watching their reflection.
"Because you asked me to," she responded at the same volume.
"That's it?" he asked with some astonishment.
She let out a small giggle. "It is never so simple, my dear Master. There are a multitude of reasons I could list. Do you know why I am not going to?"
"Because you don't trust me?" he muttered.
"That would be stating a mistruth."
He looked back at her, wide-eyed. She was smiling at him once more, hair gently blowing in the wind.
"Then...?"
"Because that reason was the most important of them all."
Hello there. It's good to see you again.
Today's the second anniversary of Saga first being published on FFN (July 23rd, 2019), so I thought I'd give you something special for it. I suppose my share of chapters this epoch has been trying to return to loose ends, hasn't it? I do have ideas for other, newer stories to tell, but I endeavor to close the old books too. I won't always succeed (one of these days I'll return to Dantés... believe it...), but hey, it's just a fic.
I'll try not to waste your time pontificating on this past year. Instead, let me say this: thank you. I'm sure you're really tired of reading me say that. It's lost a lot of value because I use it all the time. But, well, I really am thankful, and the English language is limited in its ways of expressing gratitude. I can't do any better than that. I'm just... still amazed that Saga is where it is today, with thousands of followers and such.
So... thank you. All of you. Every single one of you.
The ones who got annoyed when Kat published yet another Shirou-hating chapter.
The ones who were chilled by Endy's depiction of Circe.
The ones who laughed at every new Neethime post.
The ones who felt the bond of brotherhood between Issei and Shirou in Murasaki's chapter.
The ones who loved this fic enough to want to contribute their own ideas to it.
The ones who were inspired by this fic and went on to create something of their own because of it.
The ones who pestered me for an update (the few of you that there were), the ones who reviewed or commented on every chapter, and the ones who waited patiently in silence, never to leave a comment or review, but always smiled when you spotted the email in your inbox.
All of you mean something to me. Without you, not only would this never have happened, but... Well, a thousand dark paths lay before me, and you helped me take the one most lit. Thank you.
The Loresingers didn't look over this chapter. I did proofread as best as I could, but any mistakes remaining are mine and mine alone. I wanted to write this like I wrote that first chapter two years ago. I hope it is still satisfactory.
Normally, this is where I'd give you the ending theme and thank you one last time, but it's the anniversary, ain't it? It's a special day. Have some dessert.
At some point—he wasn't sure when—her hand had come on top of his. He was okay with it. She gently petted his thumb with her own as they watched the sun set and the sky grow darker and darker.
"What do we do now?" he finally asked as the moonlight overtook the sunlight.
"With regards to the War, you mean?" He nodded. "You wished to approach the Einzbern, no?"
"Do you think that's a good idea?"
Kiara shook her head. "I do not trust her with you."
"She doesn't belong here. Do not trust her."
Shirou blinked as the words echoed in his head.
"Maybe... she's not as bad as she seems?" he asked hesitantly.
"Mm." She looked at him. "Do you believe I cannot bring you victory, Master?"
"N-no, that's not it!"
"You would be right not to." He quieted down. "My power lies more in communication than in combat."
"So then you can help convince Illya—"
"I will not," she interrupted. "That is your argument to make, not mine."
"Why?" Shirou had his own answer, but he had to know hers.
"I could not leverage her existing connection with you to its fullest potential." She smiled. "And I do not wish to hinder your growth by coddling you unnecessarily."
He nodded. "Okay. So... tomorrow?"
"Why not tonight?"
"I... need to rest." He hated to admit it, but today had exhausted him. He felt weary.
She smirked. "Then I will make certain you have nothing but the sweetest dreams, my Master."
He flushed and shuddered. "Would you please not say it like that?"
"I haven't the faintest idea what you're referring to."
"Not this again..."
Your ending theme is Final Song by Keiichi Okabe, Kakeru Ishima, and Akitaka Tohyama.
Once again, thanks for reading. See you next time.
