06—Separation Anxiety

The quiet is unsettling.

It's still too early for birds to wake from their sleep and fill the morning air with the sound of their calls. The sounds of Sakura's and Taiasu's somber discussion have long since faded, and even the cloud of dust, smoke, or whatever it was, where he'd been standing moments ago, is little more than a hazy outline.

He really left…

Sakura stares down at it, shifting her feet, and an unconscious sigh slips through her pressed and uneasy frown.

'Thanks again for looking after me…'

"Eek—!"

Ripped suddenly from her deep thoughts, Sakura lets out another startled yelp as Taiasu's voice rings in her mind, offering a parting word of gratitude to go along with his plethora of apologies from before. Until that small squeak of surprise, she'd already forgotten about the shining pearl he'd handed to her just moments before he left.

Right…

She sighs again, rolling it around in her hand before pinching it between her thumb and forefinger, and recalling his instructions on how to use it.

'Of course, Taruko-kun… It was nice having you around.' As she recalls some of the less hectic moments, a gentle smile warms her expression. 'Strange… but nice.'

She can almost hear his laugh. In fact, she thinks she might actually hear it, but that's impossible, since he's definitely left.

In her other hand, she still holds the feather she received both from Shirou, initially, and from Taiasu on two separate occasions now. She rolls the small end between her fingers, enjoying the way its warm colors reflect in the sun, then slips it into her vest's inner pocket. The small pearl finds its way into her skirt pocket, and she breathes out another small sigh.

Rider tilts her head, watching as the last of the dust cloud dissipates in the morning sunbeams.

"They grow up fast, don't they…"

From Rider's tone, it's impossible for Sakura to tell if her words are spoken seriously or in jest. But as she looks over, it becomes clear.

"R-Rider… That's…"

The small smile she wears is telling, and Sakura can't help herself as she lets out a light chuckle.

"You're not funny. Come on, we should get inside. And please return to Spirit Form. I don't think I have it in me to come up with a plausible explanation about who or what you are."

Rider nods, and before her slight head movement has finished, she's shimmering, transparent, and gone.

'Oh, right…' The light smile on Sakura's face vanishes, replaced with a serious and concerned frown. 'What's happening with that other Servant?'

'As far as I can tell, nothing. If I had to guess…' Again, for being invisible now, Sakura can't see Rider's expression, but can feel her deep and thoughtful concern. 'They're just standing there. Menacingly.'


Shirou barely has the time or presence of mind to slide the glass door open before he flies outside. And not enough to close it behind him. Which turns out to be a good thing. His teacher's relentless warpath wouldn't permit her the chance as she flies through the still open doorway.

Jeez, Fuji-nee's totally lost her mind!

Shirou chances a glance over his shoulder and spots her closing in. Fortunately, he's near the dojo where he performs his morning workout routine. And this morning's is looking to be more engaging than normal.

Ground is gained for his wrathful guardian as he takes the second needed to slide the door open and dart inside, sliding to a stop at the wall where the other shinai are housed.

As he reaches for one, he can already see the shadow looming over him, and he barely has the time to swing around with it and block the incoming blow. The loud crack of bamboo against bamboo echoes through the otherwise quiet room as he stares into the maddened eyes of his teacher, clearly beyond reasoning with at this point.

She forces her stick down on him, one hand on the hilt, the other on the 'blade', shaking as she gains centimeter by centimeter.

"You… how… could you do… that… with a little… girl…!"

Her words come fractured between her grinding teeth. Even her breath feels hotter than it should as it pushes past his nose.

"Fuji-nee… you're not… First of all—!" Desperately, he yields the clash and rolls to his side. Her full swing completes its wide arc and cracks against the polished wood floor, echoing loudly through the room. "Nothing happened—! And second—!"

Before he's made his case, she's already rounding for her second swing. With this one, he can clearly see the path the blow will travel, so he's more able to deflect it to the side. Still, as their sticks collide and release another loud crack throughout the dojo, the force of the blow carries down to his hands, stinging them, nearly knocking them numb.

O-Ow, damn it! She hasn't lost her edge! If she were thinking straight, she'd definitely have landed that hit!

Despite the circumstances, the setting being what it is makes him think back to what he'd typically be doing right now.

Something more relaxed, like stretching or, after finishing that, a generous quantity of pushups necessary to keep his form in peak condition. Of course, the physical training wasn't just for something so mundane. It also helps to prepare his body to receive the burning steel rod that is his Magic Circuit.

Time spent working out would also be spent focusing on things like comprehending the circuit's flow, where it ends up, its connection to his nerves, the resistance his body has to it, and how it affects his thinking.

Of course, it's also less necessary since last night, but it's still a habit. The dojo has also been used for things like this 'spar' in times past, though not to such an insane degree. When his father was still alive, they'd spar in a similar fashion.

Shirou's forced to yield the clash once more, hopping backward, allowing Fujimura's strike to again slam into the ground.

Well, it wasn't SO different. It was basically him beating me senseless, but at least he was in his right mind when—!

His hands still sting from blocking that last attack, so he thinks better of trying again with the next, and instead lunges to one side. Still, the swing comes unsettlingly close. So much so he can feel the air current following it brush past his ear.

It wasn't for nothing that Kiritsugu put him through his paces. The goal was to instill in him knowledge. To teach about the difference between a fight and a battle. Subtle, but distinct. In a fight, the goal is to become the victor, which can happen simply by the opponent's surrender.

In a battle, it's ending the other person's life.

Identical outcomes obtained through radically different means.

Somehow, the lines feel blurred right now as Shirou is forced to answer his teacher's endless charge by slamming his own shinai into hers, deflecting the next attack. Quickly, he slides back on his feet again, but it's made difficult. They're bare, after all. Socks would slide more easily, but his feet almost stick, and he stumbles back a step.

R-Right, I don't have time to be thinking about this stuff right now—!

Fortunately, his body well remembers the things it's learned from his teacher. He's still no match for THIS teacher, but given she's fighting more on instinct right now, he's somehow able to evade, block, or deflect each strike.

I don't think this is what—!

His thought is cut short as he regains his footing, just in time to move to the side and avoid her next swing.

Is what he had in mind when he wanted me to prepare myself to face death—! Not that I think she's actually going to kill me…

He has just a second to swallow hard at that thought. The moment proves a distraction long enough. Fujimura reverses the direction of her next swing. Instead of bringing her weapon down over her head, she brings it down behind her, then up from the ground. It smacks into Shirou's left hand, loosening his grip with both hands and sending the shinai flying skyward. And in the next second, he's facing the tip of hers, pressing into his nose.

"Point!" she cries, grinning triumphantly. She then looks around, blinking, having finally come to her senses.

"Huh? Shirou?" She lowers her weapon and looks around the room, scratching her head. "Wait… Shirou, why are we in the dojo?"

Perhaps she's jumped tracks, switching from meting out divine discipline to believing briefly she was back in time, engaged in a kendo competition or exhibition. Whatever the reason, her sudden shift in mental state reminds Shirou of yesterday, just after she fell for some unknown reason when running into the classroom, and he breathes out a quiet sigh of relief.

Maybe she'll forget again, and I won't have to explain that nothing happened last night…

He winces, rubbing his sore hand. Still staring around, Fujimura looks down at the shinai still held in her hand. The one sent sailing has since landed and clattered to a rest, and she looks over at it.

She then lets out a heavy yawn.

"Well… whatever. I'm going to go lay down. Come get me when breakfast is ready."

She hands her shinai off to a perplexed Shirou who stares at her, blinking blankly. She then walks past Illya who stares inside, having not had the chance to talk the teacher down, and pats her head.

"Morning, Illya-chan. Slept well, I hope?"

She doesn't wait for an answer as she wanders back inside, sliding the door closed behind her.

Shirou sighs again, then rubs his forehead, drawing his hand back damp.

I guess that should be good enough for my morning training…

He secures both training weapons to the wall, then turns as Illya walks back inside.

Hearing the teacher's declaration, she's realized she too is still tired, and would like a little more rest before having to handle what will doubtlessly be an even more highly strung than usual Sella.

Shirou watches her walk inside, scratching his head before he slumps forward with yet another exasperated sigh.

Well… At least Fuji-nee seems to have settled down.


With his teacher's wrath abated, Shirou makes his way back to his room. To his right, he spies her collapsing in a heap on her unrolled futon, causing him to smirk wryly.

She's like a short-lived typhoon…

Rubbing his head again, he slides the door to his room open and stops at the entryway. There, in his futon, lies Illya, resting on her side, wrapped around his pillow, her head resting on her own, sighing quietly, her eyes closed, and her chest gently rising and falling with each breath.

She's laying down again…? It's fine. I can just change in the bathroom.

Quietly, he creeps through the bedroom to his closet and fishes out his school clothes. Part of him wants to give her another kiss on the forehead, but given she's just gone down again, doing so might wake her.

Or impel her to glomp him, which would make breakfast late.


By the time Sakura enters the house, foregoing ringing the doorbell, Shirou is well on his way to having breakfast ready. Rider remains by her side, imperceptible for having returned to spirit form. The latter stations herself in the living room, while the former enters the kitchen. As she does, Sakura spies some fish on the stove (Saury, I think?) waiting to be cooked. Besides that, there's a bubbling pot of miso soup, and a steaming kettle of rice.

Her soft steps catch Shirou's attention, and he turns to greet her.

"Morning, Sakura…"

As she moves through into the kitchen, toward the stove to take in the scent coming from the bubbling pot, residual traces of concern still cling to her, causing her movements to be stiff. Even the smile she wears feels unnatural, almost forced, and threatens to betray her subdued worry.

Despite her best efforts not to let Taiasu's departure bother her, at least on a conscious level, it's still clear enough for Shirou to notice something is off, and his casual smile of greeting loses some of its power, dropping into a small frown of minor concern.

Seems like something's bothering her… Maybe what happened with Fuji-nee?

As he moves closer toward the stove to adjust the burner's heat, he clears his throat, preparing to address the matter.

"Say, Sakura… About in the front yard…"

After having drawn in a full breath through her nose, enjoying the appetizing aroma coming from the pot, Sakura turns at his words, revealing a smile now more relaxed than before, but still feeling somehow unnatural.

"The yard?"

She looks toward the ceiling, tapping her chin.

Having to recall takes little effort, since it was such a display.

Shirou running for what seemed to be his life, their teacher pursuing him like a force of nature, and Illya watching casually from not far behind, would be difficult for anyone to forget.

"Oh, that? Illya explained some. Fujimura-sensei seemed to misunderstand something, didn't she?"

Recalling what happened before that moment, Shirou goes a shade of red as he nods.

"Yeah. She burst in just as I was waking up. She had a fit when she saw Illya there. I thought she was really gonna beat me with that shinai, but she seemed to come around after disarming me." He rubs his sore wrist again. "She's laying down again now. I guess she wore herself out. Illya's laying down in my room again, too."

"She is…?" Sakura tilts her head, then her smile lifts into something fully relaxed and natural. "I see."

Already, the brief discussion serves to distract from her concerns about where Taiasu is and what he might be doing. Small anxieties, given his demonstrated ability to remain hidden, so they're easier to put aside, especially in light of her present company.

"So onion and potato, today?" She looks over the rest of the stove, commenting first on the bubbling soup pot, then looks down at the simmering omelet waiting to be sliced into strips. "This all looks delicious…"

"Well, I did what I could. I figured I'd wait to cook the fish, so it would be nice and fresh." As he looks over the prepared meal alongside Sakura, his eyes fall to her wrist, then narrow sharply.

"Sakura… What happened to your wrist?"

At his prompting, she traces his finger's path with her eyes.

She then stiffens.

"Oh…"

With everything else happening this morning, she'd completely forgotten. It was yesterday evening when Shinji lashed out in his rage, knocking her to the floor of the basement before her grandfather had stepped in.

Too late, she tries to hide the deep bruise with her free hand as her gaze falls to the floor.

If it had been the first time Shirou had seen this sort of thing, and this sort of behavior from her, he might not have been able to guess.

But it's not, and her behavior is as telling as a book.

"Shinji again, huh?" Shirou growls through grinding teeth. "What does he think he's doing, beating on his own sister?!"

"T-That's not it, Senpai…! Um, well…"

Sakura's eyes pinch closed, her mouth falling open in a small, worried frown as her mind races in pursuit of something plausible to explain the injury's presence. Struggling to find anything, she tugs at her collar while her free hand presses into her chest.

And the only answer she can contrive is almost painfully cliché.

"I just… fell, is all! I'm just a bit clumsy sometimes, you know? So I fall and get hurt a lot…"

Trying to sell her story, she delivers it alongside a forced, awkward smile.

"Don't say stupid things!" Shirou turns from the stove toward her more fully now, his eyes seething. "You can't get a bruise like that from falling over! I thought the last time I'd yelled at him about this was enough!"

Sakura's hair and tie both flutter as she turns her eyes from Shirou's heated stare, her forced smile faltering into a sad frown which steals the light from her eyes. She loosens her grip on her collar, and both hands fall to her waist, each wringing the other as she stares down at the stove.

There are reasons she doesn't want him to know what Shinji did. The obvious, of course, being her Servant who stands listening from the living room. The where and the why that it happened would be impossible to explain away. But there's also the more mundane reason. As unlikely as it is, some part of her wishes to see them reconcile. For that to happen, Shirou clobbering her brother has to stop being a thing.

I have to say something… If he gets into another fight with Nii-san, they'll never… He might not even let me come over any more—!

The thought alone has her hunching her shoulders and squeezing her hands.

"N-No, Senpai…!" Insisting, Sakura stays the course. "This has nothing to do with Nii-san! I really did this myself, so please don't be mad at him!" Still, she can't even look him in the eye as she makes the claim.

All she can do is wait for his answer.

As he watches her shift uncomfortably in front of the stove, unable even to raise her head and meet his eyes, Shirou heaves out a deep and frustrated sigh. Blazing behind his eyes, his anger remains properly focused on the one responsible.

Besides that burning disdain, something else smolders just beneath the surface.

Resignation.

It's useless, trying to say anything when she's being like this. I wish she wouldn't cover for him…

"… All right. If you're going to stick with that story, then I won't do anything. I'll leave it at that."

"… Yes. Thank you." Still unable to meet his gaze, she traces the floor toward him with her eyes, then raises her head, showing a small, sad smile. "I'm sorry, Senpai."

"Why are you the one apologizing?" Frowning, Shirou drops his gaze, trying to force his hands from curling into fists. "Shinji's the one who should say he's sorry."

At his words, Sakura drops her stare toward the ground again, and her weak smile fails down into another sad frown. It's more confirmation that Shirou knew he didn't even need. The evidence of Shinji's hostility was already quite damning.

He still hasn't broken that habit of treating her badly, has he… Shinji.

Frustrated, Shirou again grinds his teeth as he recalls.

It was about a year ago when he first noticed. Sakura would regularly have some injury, but when he asked, she would dodge the question. When he went to Shinji about it, he told him plainly he was responsible. Worse, when Shirou asked him why, he shrugged, laughed, and said something stupid like 'Just because I felt like it.'

That's when…

Shirou's right hand stiffens, then tightens into a clenched fist.

It wasn't like he planned on it, but hearing his smug response made him so angry he ended up putting that tightened fist to practical use, returning like for like. Since then, their 'friendship' has been strained.

Still… Shirou rubs his wrist again, which throbs as he tries to keep his left hand relaxed. It's not like I regret that punch. But if Shinji is being worse toward her because of that, I'd feel bad…

"… Senpai, did you…" Sakura looks back up, but her eyes remain fixed to one side, her hands clasped and pressed into her chest. "Did you work things out with Nii-san?"

"Huh?" Shaken from his thoughts, Shirou looks up, his frown now a neutral line. "I think so. I mean, we've fought recently, so I don't think there's anything that needs working out."

"Um…" Sakura's hands fall again to her waist, and she's finally able to look Shirou in the eye. "You might think so, but I think Nii-san thinks otherwise. So…" She lets out a concerned sigh. "Well, please just be careful."

"Be careful…?" Shirou blinks at her words. "Of Shinji?"

What's she talking about? Why should I need to be—?

Sakura nods. "In all seriousness, I think he's still angry at you. And I think he thinks you quit the club because of him…"

"That's not true," Shirou says flatly. "My quitting the club has nothing to do…" He stops, then shakes his head. "Well, maybe it has a little to do with Shinji, but it's not something you should worry yourself over. And he had a point that this is pretty unsightly."

As he mentions it, Shirou points with his finger at his right shoulder, where remains the faded scars of a deep burn. Though currently hidden by his shirt and student's coat, it exists all the same. An old war-wound from his part-time job earned a year and a half ago, when a shipment collapsed on him during work.

Besides the broken bone, something hazardous spilled from the crate and scalded his skin. For that reason, he had to quit the archery club. Or rather, was forced out of it because of a formality. The male archery uniform exposes the right shoulder when they're with the bow, and Shinji thought it unseemly for that ugly scar to be shown for everyone to see.

I guess it seemed fine. I mean, he wasn't wrong, and work was picking up, so it gave me a valid out to quit the club and focus on that.

Shirou lets his hand drop, showing a calm smile.

"Um, Senpai?" Sakura looks up again with worried eyes, her hands again fussing with her student's tie. "I hope you'll forgive my persistence, but are you really not shooting anymore? Fujimura-sensei said your injury shouldn't be a problem, right?"

"What are you saying!?" Shirou's calm smile wrinkles down in a half-frown. "Fuji-nee wouldn't think it was a problem even if I broke every bone in my body, Sakura."

The worry in Sakura's eyes vanishes, replaced with irritation. Her small, concerned frown sharpens. Taiasu's departure. Rider and the imminent conflict. Shirou's strained 'friendship' with her brother. If all these things hadn't already taken a back seat in her mind to this current discussion, Shirou's flippant response to her genuine inquiry would certainly have forced it all to one side.

"Senpai, I'm being serious."

"Hmm…"

Wavering under her glare, Shirou lets out a light sigh, reconsidering.

I know I should answer her seriously, but I can't tell her what she wants to hear.

He then looks at her straight, shaking his head.

"I don't have time for club activities right now. I like archery, but it can't be a priority for me, so I'm going to stay away from it for now."

Shirou makes his case with ambivalence. For him, these are the facts, and that's all there is to it. But for Sakura, disappointment floods her, softening her frown and forcing away her gaze again.

"For… how long?"

Shirou shrugs.

"I can't say. But I'll try to make it back before you graduate." He shows her a reassuring smile and a firm nod. "Be sure to welcome me back then, Sakura."

With those words delivered in a comforting tone, he reaches over and pats her shoulder. Initially, her eyes widen, and her mouth slips open in surprise at his words and gesture. A brief surprise, which is replaced with eager anticipation as she displays a wide smile to go with her forceful nod.

"O-Of course! I'll be waiting!"

Shirou returns her nod, then looks over at the clock, tilting his head.

Only six… I thought it would be later.

He then looks over at Sakura, who still smiles, and ponders what to do with the time they have to spare. As he does, something feels off. He looks around and finds his eyes being pulled naturally downward toward the floor.

"Huh… That's odd…"

"Senpai? Is something wrong?"

As she follows his stare, Sakura's wide smile relaxes into something more casual. Shirou scours the floor with his eyes for a few seconds more before looking up, then lets his eyes drift toward the ceiling, thinking.

"No… nothing's wrong. I was just wondering. I haven't seen the little guy since I was running around the yard. Is he stuck in the bathroom or something?"

"Ah—!" Sakura makes a small, surprised sound, then stares down at the floor, her smile dropping as she tugs at her sleeves again. "No… nothing like that. He said…"

She swallows anxiously.

Senpai… If I can convince him about what Taruko-kun said, maybe it would help to convince Fujimura-sensei…?

Taking a small breath, she sures herself up before finishing her answer.

"He said he wanted to familiarize himself with the town, is all."

"Really?" Shirou tilts his head the other way, tapping at his chin. "But it's so early in the day…"

Noncommittal, he still muses briefly on the matter.

Hm… I guess he did get lost last night, so it would make sense he might want to get better acquainted with the town's layout. And he has those ridiculously short legs. He may need all the time he can get… But he's just a kid, right? Isn't it pretty strange?

Despite his wondering, it's not a serious concern for him. Only something of an idle curiosity. As such, he's unwilling to dwell on the matter for long, except for one thing.

"That's kind of odd, but are you okay with that, Sakura?"

Relieved, Sakura lets out her small breath, then forces a stiff smile to go with her unconvincing nod. But it's plain to her by the way Shirou looks at her with a light frown, arching his brow, that whatever he's thinking, he's still not fully convinced.

"Not really… But what he was saying made sense." With no reason to conceal her thoughts, she shares the truth as she's able. "And he made sure we have a way to get in touch with each other."

"What, like a walkie talkie, or a cell phone?"

Shirou looks at her, his frown narrowing as Sakura absently rolls the small pearl in her skirt pocket between her fingers.

"Something like that…"

Satisfied, at least as much as he can be, Shirou again shrugs dismissively, then nods.

"As long as you're not getting worried or distracted, it's fine." He then radically shifts the subject. "But since we have some free time, why don't we make something for lunch?"

"Eh?" Sakura's eyes widen. "Lunch?"

Shirou nods.

"No sense letting all this time go to waste, right?"

Stepping around her, he opens the refrigerator and pokes his head inside. As he digs through, trying to see what they can make, beside him, Sakura's mouth, which had fallen open with surprise, now slowly climbs into another warm smile.

"Let's see… There's some chicken… We could cut it into some bite-sized meat rolls. Garnish it with some vegetables. Something like that?" He pulls his head from the fridge and looks over at Sakura, catching her off guard. "What do you think?"

"Uh…? Well, whatever sounds good to you, Senpai…"

Taking a step back, she fidgets awkwardly while Shirou tilts his head at her reaction. He again shrugs, then brings out the fresh chicken, setting it on the counter.


Rider continues to monitor from the living room their other invisible, uninvited guest, who remains still as stone. Focusing is difficult, given Sakura's feelings pouring into her. Frustration, anxiety, and now, warm feelings of affection toward the boy which she has to separate from her own, before she confuses them as hers.

Fortunately, she has something on which she can focus.

The unusual little man who makes beautiful music, sings fascinating songs, and says unusual things. Yet, as Sakura's feelings mix with her thoughts, it becomes a sort of slurry. And it would be all too easy for her to ascribe the strange, small person as the cause of that mess.

After all, Servants aren't given much time in the world, and most of that time is spent in conflict. So whatever decisions they make, and attachments they form, have to be made and formed quickly.

But it's just Sakura's feelings muddling mine… It has to be. I mean, he's so strange…

Still, she can feel herself smiling in response to her thoughts of the little person, and Sakura's feelings toward Shirou, which she can only imagine confuse her own.

Some subtle motion from her potential quarry catches her attention, diverting her focus and forcing her soft smile down into a hard and guarded frown.

Enough. I can't think about this now. I have to focus on guarding Sakura, and winning this conflict.


Shirou sets to work slicing the chicken while Sakura moves aside some of the already prepared breakfast so they can use the burners. Once the meat on the board is cut, he pulls from a drawer a rather medieval looking mallet.

A meat tenderizer, but little more than a hammer, flat on four sides, with insidious looking spikes protruding from the fifth.

Briefly, he considers its appearance.

If it were bigger, someone could use it to extract information from a prisoner.

He shrugs, then puts it to use, startling Sakura from whatever her thoughts were as he slams it down on the cut chicken, pounding it flat. Within each flattened strip of raw chicken, Shirou places some shredded carrots and kidney beans. He then rolls the meat around the filling.

"Alright, these are ready now… Just need to cook them." He moves around Sakura toward a free pan on the stove, then ignites the burner underneath and places the rolled chicken on it. As he simmers that, he looks over at Sakura who stands idly nearby, her eyes glued to his back.

Hm… I should find something for her to do, at least.

"Say, Sakura, can you get some of that cooking wine ready while I prepare these?" he asks, pointing to a bottle filled with a dark liquid and a clear label with his free hand.

Sakura follows his finger, then nods.

"Right, Senpai!"

Excited now, she dons her personal pink apron with heart-shaped flower petals, then fastens it around her back. Now prepared, she pours some of the sweet, tart smelling fluid into the pan, then ignites the burner underneath.

Quickly, it comes to a simmer, filling the kitchen with its smell, which mingles with the others. Chicken, cooked egg, miso, onion, and even the subtle scent of potato. Before long, the chicken rolls are ready.

"Alright, just need to steam them with that wine…"

Shirou snatches a spatula from the rack behind the stove and expertly moves the rolled, cooked chicken bites into the steaming cooking wine. With little left to do, Sakura can only watch until Shirou points to the cut and prepared saury.

"Mind frying that up while I finish here?"

Eagerly, she nods, then moves the used pan from the stove to the sink. With that burner now free, she moves the saury over it, ignites its burner, and in just a few minutes, that too is simmering, suffusing the kitchen with its scent.

"And some more rice, Sakura… Sorry, but I don't think we have enough for both our lunches." He rolls the rolled meat in the steaming cooking wine as he points at a contraption on the counter. "That rice cooker should have it ready pretty quick. After that, we should be all set."

"Yes, I'll start that, then," she says, smiling. "Two cups should be enough, right, Senpai?"

Shirou nods. "I think so, yeah."

Behind him, he can hear Sakura dip into a bag, followed by the sound of countless hard granules clinking against metal as they're poured into the rice cooker. She dips in again, then shuts the cooker. A couple of beeps tell him she's turned it on, and he refocuses on steaming the chicken rolls.

"Morning!"

Fujimura's enthusiastic call surprises them both, causing Shirou to nearly slop the steaming wine over his sore wrist. Sakura refocuses on the rice cooker, waiting for it to beep.

"F-Fuji-nee, I thought you were resting still!" Shirou stammers, looking into the living room over his shoulder to see her wearing what she laid down in; her green dress and yellow-shirt with black stripes. She has her arms jutted out from her sides, with her hands pressed into her waist as she draws in a deep breath, enjoying the scent of breakfast.

He then looks up at the clock and sighs.

Half-past six now… She'd be arriving about this time, anyway.

Sakura pulls herself away from the rice cooker and goes to greet her.

"Good morning, Sensei. Breakfast is almost ready."

"Yep, I'll wait." She nods enthusiastically, then stops short. "Oh, Sakura-chan, are you making breakfast with Shirou?"

"No, Senpai made breakfast on his own." Her light smile dips as she pushes her hair back. "Somehow, we had some time to spare, so we're using it to make lunch."

Shirou listens to her from the kitchen.

Sakura's voice is pretty lively now. I guess whatever was bothering her is passed.

He smiles a relaxed smile as he finishes steaming the chicken rolls, then sets them aside.

Though I don't think we're doing anything particularly fun that would do such a good job of distracting her.

In the living room, Fujimura shows Sakura a grin like a cat eyeing a canary.

"I see, so of course you're in a good mood. Cooking and Shirou, so much fun stuff. Okay, we don't have much time but please enjoy yourself."

Immediately reading the subtext, Sakura goes a soft shade of red, then casts her stare down as Fujimura sits at the table, pouring some steaming water into a cup, then stirring some tea leaves into it.

Distractedly, Shirou listens to the water pouring.

Huh…? Did I really remember to put out the hot water while I was making breakfast? But more than that…

"Geez…" His thoughts slip out. "She must still be half-asleep. What's so fun about cooking for school?" He then lets out an exasperated sigh. "Looks like it's all ready. Just need to pack the lunches."

He rolls the chicken onto a plate, then turns around and shuts off the beeping rice cooker.

"Sorry, Sakura. I made you do so much extra work just before your club activities. And after I wanted to give you a chance to relax after everything you did, yesterday."

He moves the pan to the sink and runs some water over it, then turns to see Sakura showing a wide, gleeful grin.

"Don't worry about that at all." So wide and so full it forces her eyes closed. "Like Fujimura-sensei said, I enjoy cooking."

It feels different from the other smiles he's seen her wear. Like this one is just for herself, revealing her heartfelt feelings.

I know she likes cooking, but it still has to be hard for her, getting up at five, then coming over here just to make lunch. And she must have gotten up earlier than that today, since she was here to see that show out front.

Other minor concerns flood into his mind as he observes her sincere smile. Besides breakfast, she also comes by often to prepare dinner.

With all that, she can't possibly have any free time.

Again, he breathes out a heavy sigh.

"I'm grateful for your help, but you should find time to relax, too, Sakura. Things like sleeping in during the morning, and finding something to enjoy after school. You don't have to spend all your free time coming to help around here."

"Well, I am relaxing." Sakura's smile brightens as she forces her eyes open, lacing her fingers behind her back and staring directly at Shirou now. "You made breakfast today, and I got some food from you for lunch, too."

He can't help but sigh again. It's a lot to sigh about.

Ever since my shoulder, she's always coming around, no matter what I say. She really should worry about herself, some.

Resolved, he tells her so.

"That's different. You should have your own life too, so you can't just spend it taking care of me and Fuji-nee. If you're doing that, how are you going to have the time to do the things you want to do?"

She lets out a bubbly laugh.

"That's fine." Her hands come around in front of her, relaxing at her waist. "Besides archery, this really is my only hobby. In fact, my goal is to eventually best you at cooking, and I think I'm really close."

With those words, she refolds her hands behind her back, so she can puff her chest out like she's boasting. Shirou wants to argue her point, but he knows it's true.

I mean, she is really close to beating me, so I can't say anything about that.

Undeterred, she goes on.

"So please don't worry about it. I like cooking here, and improving is fun." She eyes him squarely again. "I'm helping to pay you back for showing me how fun this is, so it's wholly for my own benefit."

"Hm…" Shirou folds his arms and returns her stare. "So does that mean you're stealing some of my skill every day, Sakura?"

"Yes, of course," she says bluntly, nodding. "I improve quickly just by helping you. So please be ready. One day, I'll make you bow your head in defeat."

Shirou gawks briefly, then drops his gaze, rubbing his chin.

Wow. I can't believe she just came right out and said that!

"Man…" The sigh that's been building up in his chest releases again. "If I'd known this was coming, I'd never have taught you your way around a stove. You'd never even heard of oil before then, and now you're nipping at my heels like a rival." He looks back up again. "Really, why are you chasing after me like that? Can't you just be happy preparing the food?"

"Of course I'm after you." She folds her hands at her chest, and her wide smile narrows into a small, pouting frown. "I can't be content with you being better than me."

Shirou blinks at her words, then frowns as his gaze falls again.

What's wrong with settling for second? Well, whatever. We should set the table. And I still have to go arouse Illya. Er, wake her up… Jeez, what's wrong with me?

He shakes his head at his odd choice of words, then rifles through one of the kitchen drawers and withdraws a set of chopsticks. Briefly, he presses one into the stomach of the simmering saury still sizzling on the stove, then nods, satisfied with what he sees.

"I guess this is done. Nice work with that, Sakura. Can you take it to the table?" he asks, clicking off the burner, sliding the cooked fish onto a plate, then passing it off to her.

"Yes, thank you Senp—!"

Except she doesn't grab the plate.

Shirou holds it out to her for a few seconds, then turns as it grows heavy to see her staring at the back of his left hand, which shakes some for his wrist throbbing again. He's forced to use both hands to steady it.

As he looks up, he sees Sakura's smile has vanished, and instead of reaching for the plate, she's clasping her hands together at her chest. Her eyes are both as wide as he's ever seen as she stares blankly at his hand.

Huh…? Sakura?

Shirou looks at her, blinking a moment.

"Sakura? What's wrong? Did you leave something at home?"

Shirou waits quietly for her answer. It's not out of character for her to forget something, remember she forgot, then freeze like this. Except it seems to not be the case this morning.

"Sakura…?"

She offers no reply, and continues to stare at his hand, as if stunned or in a daze. When she finally finds her words, they come out barely above a whisper.

"Senpai… What happened to your hand?"

She points with her finger at the back of his left hand. He holds the plate of fish steady with his right, and turns it toward himself, wincing as his wrist protests, to see what looks like a rather impressive welt.

"This?" Finally, he sets the plate of fish down so he doesn't drop it. "You're right, there is a bruise. Weird…" He smiles, playing it off as he awkwardly rubs the back of his head with his good hand. "It must have been from when Fuji-nee whacked me in the dojo earlier."

Sakura only continues to stare at it silently.

No… That's not a bruise. Even if he's right, it can't be from… whatever happened. I know what that is. I hope…

She stares down and away, tugging at her collar.

Please, just let me be wrong…

Shirou shrugs, then looks up to find Sakura shifting uncomfortably.

Hm…? She just went quiet… Is she not feeling well?

"Um… I'll go take care of this. I should get Illya up as well. Could I ask you to handle the rest?"

Slowly, she nods, and Shirou leaves to head for the dojo, where he knows there's a first-aid kit.

Seriously, Fuji-nee got me pretty good, but I didn't think it was this bad.

He stares at the strange marking, then pokes it and winces, but only on reflex.

Weird. It doesn't even hurt. My wrist hurts, but this bruise feels fine. But Sakura seems pretty upset by it. I mean, she was fine until she noticed it.


Shirou slides his room's door open and finds Illya still snoozing, gripped around his pillow like a castaway stranded in an ocean might cling to a life preserver. He shows a warm smile from his heart as he watches her roll over, still clinging to it, at the sound the door makes.

"Illya…" He moves toward her slowly, then calls out quietly, trying to bring her around as gently as possible. "Breakfast is ready. And you should probably call where you're staying too, right?"

"Hmm…" Illya stirs, then looks up and blinks at Shirou, and shows another wide grin. "Onii-chan… Morning, again…"

She sighs out another morning greeting, then extends her arms up.

Shirou shakes his head.

"Sorry, no time for that. You need to get changed, right? And breakfast is waiting."

Still, he ruffles her hair gently with his left hand. When he's finished, she looks up, tilting her head.

"Shirou…" She points to the bandage wrapped around it. "What happened?"

"Oh, this? Fuji-nee got one in on me this morning." He turns his wrist, which protests less than it has before this point. "Harder than I thought, since it left a pretty nasty welt, too…"

"Hmm… Can I see?" She motions for him to kneel down. "I might be able to make it better."

"Huh? You can do that, Illya?"

Surprised, he arches his brow, and further as she nods plainly.

"It's a pretty simple thing." She opens the bandage, then smiles widely, a cursory glance telling her everything she needs to know. "Onii-chan, this isn't a welt…" She sighs. "I saw this yesterday, but it's more clear today."

"Illya?" Shirou moves his hand away, then takes a closer look at it. "It's not a bruise?"

She shakes her head.

"Saying everything would take too long, but I'll give you the shortest explanation I can." Her smile smooths down into a serious line. "That's the precursor of a Command Spell. It means you've been chosen as a Master."

"Master…?" Shirou's voice trails. "Illya, you're saying that like I should know what it means, but I don't have a clue."

She again sighs, shaking her head.

"I was afraid of that. But I said I can't explain it fully right now. All I can say is that you definitely shouldn't let other people see it right now, or your life might be in danger."

"D-Danger—!" Startled in part by her words, but also her dour tone, Shirou stammers loudly, then claps his hand over his mouth. "Illya, what?"

"Like I said. I can explain more later, but we can't talk about it around other people. You should go, right?"

"Go?"

He tilts his head. Everything is happening too quickly for him to process.

It's not a bruise, but this… What the hell is a Command Spell? What's a Master? And now she wants me to leave without explaining any of it?

"I can't just leave, Illya. I need to know what this is."

"Onii-chan, you can't stay here, either." She smirks up at him impishly. "Unless you wanted to watch me change?"

"Ah—!" His face goes bright red at her teasing. "I-Illya! Y-You have to stop saying things like that! Of course not! But we can talk through the door at least, right?"

She shrugs, then nods again.

"As long as—" Another broad yawn briefly interrupts her words, and she smacks her lips some, finding it distasteful. "—you're comfortable with it."

Shirou lets out another deep sigh, then mirrors her nod.

"I'll keep my back to the door while you explain what you can."

Finally, he stands and turns, then steps outside, sliding the door closed behind him.

"So what's this Command Spell thing mean? And what's a Master, Illya?"

"Talk quieter, Onii-chan." Illya says, slipping from her garment. "Oh…"

She looks around, then frowns at the floor.

Right. My clothes are in the other room.

She sighs, then walks toward the door.

"Don't turn around." She then shows another playful grin at his back. "I mean, unless you want to. I need to go get my clothes, they're in the other room."

Shirou frowns, feeling his face heat up again, but only folds his arms and nods stiffly.

I think she enjoys that sort of teasing a bit too much…

She's not gone a minute before she returns, tote in hand, and slips back into his room, sliding the door closed behind her. Fortunately, there's no hijinks or shenanigans, like Fujimura showing up and going off again.

"Anyway, there are six others. I'm one, too," Illya says, pulling on her royal purple shirt.

"You?" Shirou makes to turn his head, then stops and shakes it.

"Yes. But if you stop me to ask something every time I try to explain, we'll miss breakfast." She frowns at the door as she fastens her shirt buttons. "Each of us has to fight until every other one of us has been eliminated or surrendered their Command Spell."

Illya's tone is casual, but her words send a chill through Shirou's spine.

Eliminated…? Wait, fight? But she said she's one. I don't want to—!

"But Masters can also fight on the same side, against other Masters, so it's not like we have to fight each other." As if reading his thoughts, she answers his unspoken concern while fussing to get her shirt straight. "And we don't fight alone. We each have to summon a Servant. I've had mine for a while now. I know you don't, which is one reason I helped you with your switch problem last night."

Shirou breathes out a quiet, relieved sigh, but his mind quickly buzzes with this new information.

Wait, a Servant, now? I mean, I guess? If I'm a Master, then I have to be a Master of something, right?

"If we had more time, I'd definitely help you summon it right away." Finally, getting her shirt straightened, she reaches into her tote and pulls out her pink skirt. "But most Masters really want to let this interfere with their lives as little as possible. So I'm guessing you still want to go to school, right?"

Shirou nods, his arms folded at his chest.

"That's a given. I mean, I just heard about this thing thirty seconds ago."

The door behind him slides open, and Illya steps out, fully dressed like she'd been when they first met.

"So tonight would probably work better."

Shirou turns at the sound of her unobstructed voice, and the door, and looks down, seeing her wearing an unsettling smile.

"Tonight…?"

He shudders, feeling an uncomfortable chill from the air surrounding her. Her smile clearly belongs to a creature eager to go on the hunt, and it leaves him feeling ill at ease. But right now, he has no time to dwell on his concerns.

Even if he did, he's not fully sure he wants to. If there is more to this, more to her and this eager desire she seems unwilling or unable to hide, it's not something he wants to know.

"I mean, I'm not even sure what's happening, Illya… I know about magic, but my knowledge is pretty spotty. And I'm not comfortable with things like 'eliminating' anyone."

"It's okay, Onii-chan." Her sinister smile melts into something more warm and understanding, but has little, if any, effect on the chill from before. "I'll teach you what you need to know. And it's like I said, we don't have to eliminate anyone. Just getting them to surrender is enough."

Though eliminating them is easier, but she keeps that thought to herself.

"Still…" Unsure, Shirou shifts his feet and stares down at the floor, then at his hand, before he fixes the bandage back in place. "I'm fine learning about this stuff, but… Do I really have to participate?"

Solemnly, Illya nods.

"It's not an option. I'll explain more when I can, but for now, breakfast, right?"

She smiles up at him like the child she very much appears to be, but despite that, the discomforting chill of that icy smile she showed just moments before still hangs in the air.