The floor tiles alone must have been priceless.
Gold inlaid-ivory depicting forgotten beasts and wild forests of old. Kiritsugu stood on them in his ash-covered boots and longed for a cigarette. None to be found, of course, however much he searched his pockets.
Another castle, another pale aristocratic woman in finery beaming down at him. That this one happened to have feathered wings didn't inspire any confidence.
I'm so tired.
"Welcome to the afterlife," she said, her angelic voice in perfect harmony with the background of singing birds and rustling leaves. "It is my duty to inform you—"
"I died," he cut her off laconically, idly looking around the hall that was both inside and outside at the same time.
No rest for the wicked. His lip twitched, but refused to form even the ghost of a smile. But really, what had he been expecting?
"Indeed," she continued, unperturbed by his interruption. "Your time in that world has ended. But a new world awaits—"
"Not interested." An ornate chair on a far wall caught his eye. He shuffled over and sat on it.
If I'm going to be dead, might as well make myself comfortable. Looks like she's going to be talking for a while anyway.
"What if I could offer you a chance at redemption?" Her smile was positively beatific. She reached out a hand in his direction. "Son of Norikata Emiya, you who have sought—"
"Still not interested."
He might have been, once. But that was before the Grail, when there still seemed to be a path forward. When he could comfort himself that his sins would at least shepherd in a better world.
Before his hands burned as they closed over her neck.
"You don't believe you deserve one," she uttered all-knowingly, with the look he hated most in the world: pity. He was beginning to despise that saintly smile and saccharine voice. "You've done so much wrong, hurt so many people—why should you get another chance?"
"Does it matter?" He shrugged and slouched in his seat. "Believe whatever you like, do whatever you want. How long is this going to take?"
"However long it takes for you to accept your destiny." There was so much patience in that look that he had to wonder if she practiced therapy with mountains.
He sighed. "And that would be?"
"To save others," she replied. "To give the children their smiles back."
He shook his head. "Fine. What does that mean? Who do I need to kill?"
That's what it always came down to in the end. A hero always needed a villain. A saint always needed a sinner.
"A demon lord ravages the land of Crescendo. Many have fallen to his dark army, and soon all of humanity will be crushed in his iron grip." She held her arms out. "O great hero, please deliver justice to the people. Let them feel hope again, let them dream of an unclouded sky again. Beat back the Demon Lord, and…"
Kiritsugu tuned her out in favor of watching motes of dust drift in the sunlight. Strange that they would be found in the afterlife, but if this was supposed to be a recreation of reality, then that would make sense. Damn, a cigarette would really hit the spot right now.
"…all so you can leave that world with a smile on your face." She brought her arms back to her chest. "I am sure that your soul will be a little lighter, and your sins a little lesser, by the time you have set things right."
"I can't," he replied.
"Can't, or won't?"
He shifted his legs. "I'm not a hero. Don't think I've ever been. Even if I was, I've already passed that on. You're talking to the wrong guy."
Whatever remnants of goodness his ideals still had, he tried to give to Shirou. And with the broken magecraft training he'd given him, there was no way the kid would continue down that path. No enchanted castles in frozen woods, or bitter memories on his lips.
His hand slipped in his pocket once more, groped around a bit before giving up.
"Someone who wants to do good is good," she stated. "I know you can do it. I believe in you."
"Then you'll be disappointed like everyone else." Taking a look around the castle, there were doors that he could spot, only high windows and crimson tapestries. He puffed out a breath. "Is that all?"
Can I go to hell now? Somewhere he could properly drown in his regrets and self-loathing. Somewhere away from that aggravating smile with its cloying compassion. It made his stomach churn just looking at it.
"Mmm." Surprisingly, she let him be for a few moments. He didn't bother glancing at her—she would do with him as she wanted to. "Perhaps you are right. You may not be the right person for the job."
He sighed in relief. "Happy we agree."
"However," she added, smoothing the feathers on a wing, "it was kind of you to point me in the right direction. Thank you."
"I didn't do anything of the sort," he muttered even as a spike of unease crawled up his spine.
The woman clapped her hands in pleased satisfaction. "You passed on your dream, didn't you? Why don't we go check on how it's working out for him?"
"No."
But part of Kiritsugu was curious, even though he knew better. The boy he'd unwillingly left behind had been a broken glass, full of sharp edges and empty spaces behind amber eyes. Surely he'd calculated the right path for the kid, enough to fill that emptiness without giving him enough rope to hang himself. Surely.
"Oh, don't worry about imposing." She beamed, radiant in the sunlight. "It's no trouble at all!"
With a sweep of her hand, a silver basin appeared on the floor in front of him. The sight of pure water rippling in an invisible breeze pulled him from his chair. Biting his lip, Kiritsugu advanced until he found himself staring into the mirror-like surface. Better than the indulgent smile he could feel directed his way.
Another ripple, then the water darkened. He could see clouds within, an overcast sky over a collection of houses and streets and trees. A village, with the slanted roofs and frost-tipped grass he dimly remembered from some mission to Hungary.
A patch of darker clouds—no, smoke. And spreading fire, and screams. People were running down the street now: men and women, parents pulling along their children, all running blindly away. Behind them…
Amber eyes and sherry-brown hair shot through with white. An arm covered in the glow of burning magic circuits, a deadly arrow nocked on a bowstring.
The volley fell like a rain of knives among the fleeing villagers. A man impaled through the throat, a howling child pinned down by his bleeding leg. Implacably, the archer drew his hand back again.
"No… no, he couldn't." Words tumbled unheard from Kiritsugu's mouth as he stared in horror at the vision sprawling out before him.
More arrows fell, more screams.
Then silence. The boy—no, the man—banished his bow and pivoted around. A figure in a black cassock approached, a handful of black keys splayed out like claws between his fingers. An Executor.
"Shirou…"
They talked for a moment. The priest bowed his head and murmured—a prayer for the dead. The archer said nothing, only surveyed the carnage with a steel gaze.
Kiritsugu forced his eyes shut, breaking the connection. A deep inhale shook his frame, then he whirled on the supposed-angel.
"It's not true," he growled. "You just picked this out of my mind, didn't you?"
The future he had never wanted for his son. A life just like his.
There was little benevolence in that smile now.
"I can find many futures like this," she said. "Ones you never could have imagined. So many trials your son undergoes for the sake of your ideals."
His knees buckled under him. He might have fallen entirely if the basin hadn't been there for his hands to grab. A dull shock knocked on his chest, his throat felt dry as sandpaper.
He inhaled sharply through his teeth. "When he dies… will you bring him here?"
"He would make a better hero than you, no doubt."
His hand curled into a fist so tight that nails cut into his palm. "But you're offering it to me."
Taking a deep breath, he slowly forced his hand to unclench. If they were having this conversation at all, it meant that things weren't yet set in stone. There was room for negotiation. And after everything he'd done, what was another devil's bargain?
He felt sick.
"A matter of convenience." She gestured with her hands as if she were releasing a flock of birds. "You died first. But if you truly and utterly don't wish to go, I can wait."
"And if…" Bile rose in his throat. He couldn't believe he was considering this, but… "If I accept, will you leave him alone? Or will you send him to another land, another demon?"
She smiled as if entertaining a small child. "If not me, then another. There are as many of us as stars in the sky. He will never be left alone."
"Then incarnate him into an ordinary life," he argued. "Let him grow up as a normal boy, with a happy family. You can do at least that, can't you?"
"Oh, Kiritsugu." He flinched. That tone was far too familiar to be comfortable. "He is a very special boy. Even if I were to grant him such a boon, he would not be able to stop himself from becoming a hero. You were so very thorough."
"Then there's nothing to talk about." He scowled at her. "Just throw me in hell and leave me be. There's nothing I can do."
She tutted. "Such a pessimist. I didn't say I wouldn't do anything for him. Merely that your fantasies were out of reach. But I can find him a cozy world, where saving people is easy and he'll find fulfillment in their smiles. I can give him the future he deserves."
Promises spoken aloud were even more worthless than those etched in paper. Especially those with gaps between the words so wide a tank could drive through them. Sighing, he glanced back at the basin and saw nothing but the ivory ceiling reflected in its water.
He really should negotiate further. Argue the fine points. Better yet, not hope at all.
But he was so tired.
"Fine," he snapped at last. "Do whatever you want."
She curtsied, as if maintaining that veneer of politeness was worth anything at all. "Then go forth, Yuusha-sama. Go forth and rally your kingdom. Make the Demon Lord rue the day he waged his war over the fate of the world, for he could not have foreseen your might matching his."
"Just get on with it already."
A snap of her fingers, and the floor below him became a swirling vortex of blue light. Then it swallowed him whole, and he knew no more.
