(A/N) Yikes, how's it already February? School has been attacking me with a vengeance recently, so I guess my free time disappeared faster than I could find it. I shamelessly redirect all the blame for my lack of updates towards my program.
On the matter of updates, my planned order was JNRER, END, Jaune d'Arc, then this. However, I have been unable to move away from this story due to how much feedback it's gotten.
Seriously. Thank you. I've admittedly put out very little of the story so far, so I hope it can meet whatever expectations its readers have.
X
I held my hand against Sakura's cheek intently, her body sandwiched between a futon and blanket. She was warm to the touch, but not overly so. I could hear slow but steady breaths escape her lips.
The tenseness in my shoulders eased a little. She was perfectly fine. Zouken either wasn't able to do anything to her remotely or simply didn't care enough to do so.
I cursed my lack of knowledge of my charge's circumstance, but this was the only thing I could do for her. I'd keep her away, guarded and hope that I could find a solution –if only a temporary one– to the situation with the Matou family.
I knew it would be another hour or so before she'd wake up, so I left the room I set up for her and made my way to the kitchen. I'd do my best to make a hearty breakfast.
Sakura was still a growing girl, after all.
Frying the eggs, I found that I couldn't keep more than half a mind on the task. I was too busy thinking of other loose ends that I should've settled before I took Sakura away.
Honestly, I thought I outgrew acting before thinking, but I guess I was wrong.
The immediate concern was figuring out what I'd do with the girl while I was at school. She couldn't come with me –Sakura didn't start for another year– and I couldn't skip classes. Whatever trust Kiritsugu had that I could look after myself would be broken, and what I could go off and do on my own would be greatly restricted as a result.
The difficulty was that I didn't know anyone I could trust, mostly because It hadn't been more than two weeks since I got out of the hospital. Kiritsugu was in Switzerland, and he was quite literally the only adult I've had any sort of real conversation with so far.
Before I knew it, I'd already finished cooking. I slid the eggs over two bowls of rice and brought out a side of fresh kimchi. I only had it fermenting for a few days, but it should be fine as-is.
I heard the soft pattering of feet from the other side of the wall. Sakura must have woken up.
I was proven right as a mop of purple hair poked through the entrance.
"Good morning, Sakura," I said first, hoping to appear friendly to the skittish child.
"…Good morning," she replied simply.
That would do, for now.
I suspected that she could smell the food since her eyes were locked on the two bowls I had set on the kitchen counter. Though she didn't express herself much, I was happy that her body language belied her satisfaction with my culinary skills.
We ate in silence, though it wasn't uncomfortable by any means. It felt more like we were busy enjoying the meal.
The doorbell rang.
My shoulders tensed.
Could it be Zouken? No, he wouldn't be so callous, especially knowing that this was Kiritsugu's property. My adoptive father's reputation was known very well amongst magi.
Signaling for Sakura to stay where she was, I made my way to the door cautiously. I cursed my decision to postpone awakening my circuits, knowing that the physical backlash I'd receive if I did it now would be more than an inconvenience. Ignoring that, it would take time; something I didn't currently have.
I opened the door with a disarming, childish smile.
"Hello?"
I was met by an imposing older man and a schoolgirl a few years older than myself.
"You're little Shirou, I presume," spoke the man. "My name is Fujimura Raiga, and this is my granddaughter, Taiga. I'm a friend of Kiritsugu's. Your father asked me to check in on you while he was away."
"Oh?" was all I could say.
Did Kiritsugu really ask Mr. Fujimura –someone I didn't technically know– to look after me without even telling me before he left? That was either irresponsible, or this was a scheme targeting the Magus Killer's unsuspecting son.
I sighed, knowing that it was the former. My memory of them wasn't the clearest, but I knew the two in front of me enough to know that they were likely telling the truth.
"Did Kiritsugu not tell you?" asked Raiga, sounding exasperated but not surprised. "He's a little too scatterbrained for his own good– a little strange, considering that he's a professional type of individual."
Admittedly, the grail's curse was likely at fault. It was draining the life out of him, slowly eroding his mental faculties. The symptoms weren't obvious at the beginning, simple things like forgetting dates, misplacing his things and the like. It wasn't anything uncommon for a normal person, but Kiritsugu was anything but. Near the end of his life, it would degrade to the point that it would be difficult for him to keep a conversation without tiring himself out.
I wondered if that "tiredness" was why he told me of his dream at all. Would he have encouraged me to lead the same path as him otherwise, after being crushed by it the way he had? After trying to shelter me from his world –the moonlit world– since the day he saved my life?
I never thought much of the man's mental health before, if I were honest with myself. If memory serves, his body would eventually do him in long before his mind, but I couldn't really call that a positive point.
"No," I answered Raiga eventually, almost getting off track, "but he was in a rush, so…"
"Here." The man took out what looked like a pretty bulky cellphone. It was antique by my own standards, but in the context of the current time period, it was already something that he had one at all. "I'll give the guy a call so we can sort things out."
I nodded as he dialed Kiritsugu's number.
"Raiga."
"You didn't tell the kid?"
"…Sorry. Put him on."
The man handed the phone to me.
"Kiritsugu?"
"I'm sorry, Shirou. I asked Raiga to look after you just as I arrived at the airport, and it didn't occur to me to let you know. He's a good friend of mine, so you can trust him."
"Alright. See you when you get back."
We said our goodbyes –as quick as they were– and I hung up. I gave the older man his cellphone back with a nod.
"Please, come in."
I stepped away from the door, allowing them passage. While Raiga was content to walk in like a regular human being, his granddaughter nearly jumped in my face with her hand stretched out.
"Hiya! Nice to meetcha, Shirou!"
How… sudden.
Then again, this was how Fujimura Taiga acted for as long as I've known her… I think. I shouldn't worry about it too much.
"Mm," was my non-verbal response as I met her handshake. It was nice to have someone who didn't treat me like a kid, but that may have said more about her than it did me.
"Oh, and who might this be?" said Raiga to my back.
I turned, seeing Sakura peering her head through the dining room doorway. She must have been curious to know who was at the door.
I looked again to Raiga, his face telling me that he didn't expect to find another child in the home.
…I could work with this, couldn't I?
"It's Sakura," I answered simply. No point saying anything that wasn't true, lest it comes back to bite me. "I don't know what to do… I can't leave her home alone while I'm at school, but…"
I think I did a good job of presenting myself as some sort of older brother figure. I was raised as an only child, so I was pretty much winging it.
"Darn. Kiritsugu didn't mention he brought home two of you," the man muttered to himself. It was fine to let him think that. "I thought I only had to drop by every once in a blue moon…"
"Don't you worry, Shirou!" Taiga nearly shouted. She wrapped her arm around the shoulders of a startled Sakura. "We can take care of her!"
That worked pretty well, if I could say so myself.
"You have to go to school, girlie," corrected Raiga gruffly. He didn't like his granddaughter committing in his name, apparently. "Although, I suppose she can stay with me during the day."
I bowed at the waist. "Thank you both."
"Don't mention it," replied the old man. The way he said it made me think that if anyone were to mention it, it would be him roughly ten years from now if he felt like he needed a favour.
"Leave it to us!" cheered Taiga.
"To me," the man corrected.
"Leave it to him!"
Raiga checked the time.
"The original plan was to give you a lift to school. Would you care to take us up on the offer?"
And save myself the walk? Sure. "If you don't mind."
"Not at all, boy. I'd be dropping off my granddaughter either way."
I allowed a smile to creep up my face. It was nice that things were going my way, for a change.
X
I couldn't get rid of my irritated scowl. I knew that it was a strange look on a seven-year-old, but I couldn't help it.
When the chauffeur opened the door of the vehicle, I could feel the eyes of the Homurahara student body boring into me. Or rather, the series of black foreign cars lined up at the gates.
"Don't mind it, Shirou," spoke Taiga as she got out after me. "They're just not used to seeing German cars around here."
I don't think that's what it was. I really don't think that's what it was.
I faced Sakura, who was still buckled in the back seat. "I'll see you later. Mr. Fujimura will take good care of you while I'm gone."
I didn't get any words out of her, but she did give me a nod.
Once the troupe took off, Taiga took the time to walk me to the elementary division. I thought that was nice of her.
"I'll come find you once you're done your classes, aright? I'll be on my lunch break, so I can bring you to the cars. They'll be waiting."
"Thank you, Fujimura-senpai."
A mischievous smile crept up to her eyes. I didn't like the twinkle I found in them.
She pounced on me, though it was a bit more literal this time. She was hugging me, I think, but she was squeezing the life out of me. I imagined this was what Illya would do with a cute stuffed animal.
"D'aww… you can call me Fuji-nee! I've always wanted a little brother!"
She let go and I nearly fell to my knees, gasping for air. She ran off without missing a beat. "See ya!"
…What a personality, that one. I could see why I remembered her fondly, though.
X
Once again, I subjected myself to the voice of a man rambling on about some elementary concept or another. Once again, I had to remind myself that I was the outlier here, and not the children learning this stuff for the first time.
It was horrible.
And so, I stared at Rin to pass the time.
…That sounded terrible, even to me.
Ahem. Moving on.
She didn't take notice, but that was more of her paying attention to the lesson that it was me trying to be discrete. It was kind of strange seeing her level of diligence in someone her age, but knowing her personally had long since proven that it was nothing to be surprised about. She'd take note of points of interest, marked what she'd rewrite later, and even used three different highlighters to help color-code things.
It was like watching a young adult, rather than a kid.
Eventually, though, some of that youthful inexperience did shine through. No one –unless they knew her cues as well as I did– would notice, but she hesitated for an instant. She wrote more but highlighted much less about a certain piece of information the teacher gave. There was something she didn't understand.
Of course, I knew exactly what she was stuck on because there was only one thing that it could be. It was likely an accident, but the teacher made reference to material that was many levels above what a primary student could ever hope to touch. It was an off-handed remark, something that wasn't really important and would've flown over the heads of the kids here anyway.
Not Rin, though.
It was a testament to her intelligence that she caught it at all, but naturally she didn't understand it. She couldn't, and certainly not without any sort of foundational knowledge.
The tapping of her feet told me it bothered her, but not enough for her to get hung up on it. She was able to move on and follow the lesson.
Good for you, Rin.
The lesson ran its course, and we eventually reached our first break. I let out a yawn I was holding in and stretched my arms behind my back.
While the others in the class went did whatever it was kids are supposed to do when they have free time, I figured my time would be best spent trying to figure out an excuse I could use to convince Kiritsugu that I had a good reason for outright lying to his face, then disobeying him.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I might've batted a little too soon, but that didn't mean my decision was a bad one. I did take Sakura away, and until Zouken does something to prove me wrong, that's had more benefits than consequences.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Maybe I could come clean about everything and hope the man believes me? Tell him I essentially traveled through time, and that keeping a small girl away from her dangerous magus grandfather would help prevent the manifestation of a dark monstrosity? Admittedly, that would rely on my odds of getting through to him. I wasn't even taking into account the fact that he'd likely want to solve everything his way, screwing up all my plans… not that I knew what those were.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Maybe I could pretend she was never at our house to begin with, and find a way to bribe Fujimura Raiga into letting her stay with him? Again, there were many "ifs" involved, namely whether I could bribe the guy at all.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
…What the hell's making that noise?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Looking around the classroom, my eyes found my desk-neighbour tapping her pencil against her notebook. She was staring at her page like it had aggrieved her.
I sighed, knowing what I must do to get her to stop. My chair slid back, making noise as I got up. It was enough to alert her of my approach before I stood next to her.
"Do you need help with anything, Tohsaka?"
She scoffed as if baffled that I would even suggest such a thing. "Not at all, but thanks for worrying, Emiya-kun."
"' Course not," I agreed easily. "Could you stop that noise you're making then?"
It was only as I said it that the noise stopped. She likely wasn't aware of it.
Trying to cover her embarrassment, she tried to make the issue about me. "I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to break your concentration."
Strange. She didn't sound very sorry. Nonetheless, the pissier this girl's mood, the likelier it would be that I'd have a bad day. This was a rule I'd learned with time. As such, I decided to be more direct.
"I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying that I really could help explain things to you, if you want."
Uh oh. I was making it worse. The eyebrows were back at it. "Thank you again for your consideration, but I doubt there's anything you can do to help."
I didn't know if her refusal stemmed from the fact that she actually knew she was stuck on something far above our level, or simply that she didn't like me.
It could be both, really.
"You're trying to figure out what the teacher was saying about imaginary numbers, right? I don't even know if they teach that in high school."
My attempt to get through to her despite her incessant griping seemed to do something, since she didn't tell me to bug off again. Instead, her eyes narrow accusingly. "And how do you know that?"
I shrugged. I didn't have an explanation, and I couldn't be bothered to make one up. Even if she wanted one, I doubted very much that she could be more bullheaded than me on the matter.
One could hope.
"I don't know, why are you worrying over this in the first place? It's not like we're actually supposed to know it or anything." Though I asked the question, I already knew the answer. Rin didn't like not understanding things, whether it be something she was supposed to know or not.
Thankfully, she took my noncommittal response well enough, and by that, I meant she huffed and ignored me again.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I was getting annoyed, now. Part of me knew that getting worked up over the behaviour of a child was nothing but a waste of energy, but I shelved that thought. I grabbed the pencil out of her hand and dragged her notebook towards me.
"Hey!"
I ignored her. "It's not actually a number. It's more of a placeholder," I explained as I wrote down a quick formula. "It doesn't have a value, but it's used under the assumption that it's squared value is negative one."
I was no mathematician, but that was my understanding. My explanation might've been a little crude, but if there was a seven-year-old on this earth that could get it with just this much, it was Rin.
She didn't say anything at first. Though after a bit of fidgeting on her part, she eventually managed to swallow her pride. "So it works like this?"
She took the pencil back and wrote an equation based on the formula I gave her.
"Exactly," I answered. I should've been surprised that she got the hang of it so quickly, or even that she knew how exponents worked while everyone else was still trying to get a hang of addition and subtraction. I wasn't, though.
"…I understand."
That was all she said. No "Thank you, Shirou", no "You're the best, Shirou". What a pain, this one.
The teacher called us to take our seats. Done with math, it was time for languages.
So much for free time.
Sigh.
X
Noon came quickly and so did Taiga.
"Shirouuuu! Over here!"
My bag was still in my hands, the energetic girl having arrived before I finished packing it. How did she get to the elementary school so quickly? And how did she know what classroom I was in?
"…Coming, Fuji-nee."
Her smile threatened to split her face just as her arms threatened to trap me in a bear hug in the next few seconds. She liked the sound of that, I gathered.
I said my goodbyes to my teacher and classmates politely, feeling a little uncomfortable being picked up by someone. I couldn't say it was something I was used to.
The other kids were talking amongst themselves.
"Is that Shirou's sister?"
"I dunno. I think so."
"She's pretty!"
The last one had the highschooler blushing. "Aw, shucks," she laughed to herself in a very Taiga-ish way.
"Let's go," I urged, dragging her away by the sleeve. Any more compliments and I feared we'd be stuck here for a while.
Before leaving, I noticed Rin staring at me strangely. I didn't pay it much mind.
X
When Sakura was returned to me, I knew neither the expression I was making, nor the expression I was supposed to make.
I looked at the girl, her face as blank as mine. I turned my head up to the Yakuza boss standing behind her, matching his austere gaze.
I looked back to Sakura.
"Mr. Fujimura?"
"Yes, boy?"
"Where did she get the pink, frilly dress?"
"The store."
"...Who braided her hair?"
"Kiba did," he answered, pointing to the imposing battle-scarred gangster to his right.
"That's a pretty big lollipop she's got there."
"We got goodies on the way."
"…"
"…"
I should have expected this. How Taiga turned out was a prime example of why I should have expected this.
"Thank you for looking after her," I bowed, pretending I didn't see the tiara hidden behind one of the gang members' back. Spoiling her was leagues better than abusing her.
"No problem kid. We'd be more than happy to take her in until Kiritsugu gets back."
Evidently.
We'd arrived at the end of our street in good time, the cars dropping us off a little ways away from the house to avoid any associations by the passerby.
I took Sakura by the hand, waving goodbye to Raiga's group as they took off.
"Did you have a good day?" I asked, easily falling into the role of the inquisitive guardian.
She nodded. I was surprised to see a small smile on her face. It almost masked the fear I knew she felt deep within.
"This is for you," she spoke softly, handing a small bag of hard candy. It would seem that Raiga thought of me too when they stopped for 'goodies'. How nice of him.
"What a kind girl."
I froze. It wasn't me who said that.
I pulled the purple-haired child close to my chest protectively. I could feel her hyperventilating.
The street was quiet and empty. It was by no means a major road, but it was never this deserted. This wasn't natural.
There was a bounded field surrounding us.
"No… I'm sorry…"
Sakura's whimper was barely audible, but the despair in her tone couldn't be any clearer. My fears were validated, now knowing exactly who it was I was dealing with.
My young but fully functional magic circuits hummed with power, ready to be used at a moment's notice. This morning's scare pushed me to awaken them sooner than later, sooner being the moment I was able to.
An old man materialized in front of us, nothing outstanding about his appearance other than how old he appeared to be.
I knew better.
"Hello, child," the abomination spoke. "My name is Matou Zouken. It would seem that you've been looking after my granddaughter for me."
"Good evening, Mr. Matou," I replied innocently. I hoped to defuse any sort of altercation before it could occur.
Unfortunately, I don't think he missed the way I stepped forward to shied Sakura with my body.
He laughed. "Kukuku. No need to be afraid, boy. I'm just here as a worried grandfather."
Bullshit.
The figurative hammer in my mind was cocked. Worst case scenario, I knew what had to be done.
The friendly smile on the creature's lips grew until it was decidedly inhuman. "I wouldn't try that, little magus."
The hand that held a not-yet-existent weapon slackened. He knew. Of course, he knew. I was a fool to have ever thought otherwise.
"I won't give her to you," I stated firmly. There was no point beating around the bush anymore.
"I wasn't about to ask that you do. How quick you are to jump to conclusions."
His answer confused me, though his evident amusement said all that needed to be said. I couldn't let my guard down.
"I won't have to, after all," he continued. "She may stay with you for as long as she wishes, but something tells me it won't be as long as you think."
I gritted my teeth.
The air around shifted noticeably. The bounded field had been dispersed.
"That's all from me. Have a good night, children, and don't stay out too late."
I watched dumbly as he turned and walked away. The only sound breaking the silence was the dull scraping of his walking cane hitting the pavement.
Zouken didn't come to take her. This was just a warning; a threat. His message was clear. He didn't think he'd need to lift a finger to get what he wanted.
Once I knew we were truly alone, I grabbed the young Matou heir by the hand. She was as stiff as a board.
Damnit.
Damnit.
She trailed along as I brought us back to the Emiya household. The bedazzled outfit and over-the-top set of accessories did nothing to hide her despondency.
The fact that we got through this confrontation without issue didn't ease my frustration over the matter– no. I was frustrated because of everything that went wrong over the course of a few moments. Zouken snuck up on me, threatened me, forced me into inaction and ruined whatever small sense of security I'd been able to give the poor girl I was trying to help.
Though the idea sounded nice at first, it was clear to me now that plotting intricate schemes to gain the upper hand wasn't my strong suit.
Emiya Shirou will never be anything more than a sword, after all. My best bet was to sharpen my blade and prepare to do what I do best.
