11—Oddly Even Match

"—ervre!"

Just… two more minutes…

"—bervre!"

"Mmm…"

Grumbling, Sobervre folds his arms under his head, rolling over to one side and swatting at the meddlesome voice, as if trying to shoo away a fly.

How long had it been since his uninvited guest had rudely tried to do away with him?

He couldn't say, but now another seems bent on interrupting his quiet rest.

"Sobervre!"

Patience at their end, the source of the feminine voice smacks his head, trying a less gentle method to rouse him.

"Mmm… Mommy, I don't want to go to school today. My tummy aches."

He rolls the other way, refolding his hands to again serve as a pillow.

The intruder's attack had been powerful, and caught him by surprise, rendering him momentarily blind, deaf, and unconscious. When he'd come around, it was to her boastful, self-indulgent laughter.

He could respect that.

But before he had a chance to respond in any fashion, she'd slipped from the space. Rather than give pursuit, he thought it best to let her think herself victorious. Besides, she'd entertained him enough, and if the price he had to pay was a singed outfit and some temporary tinnitus, then it was a bargain.

Only now, his rest is again disturbed by a familiar voice.

"What are you on about?" The newcomer huffs, then breathes out an exasperated sigh. "And what happened to your outfit? It's practically ruined!"

"Mm… Just the admission fee to the amusement park." Giving up on rest, he floats upright and turns toward the new voice in his space. Another figure, shrouded much like him in similar garb, face concealed by a red mask, with fair skin and straight, flowing, silken-black hair. "So, you've borrowed her form, then?"

The figure nods.

"Fandaniel borrowed her brother's corpse, so I figured, why not?"

"So, for irony's sake then." Sobervre sighs, shaking his head. "Bleh, that word. I'm never sure if I'm using it right. But I trust you didn't come simply to show off your new threads. So why are you here, Aeylida?"

"To deliver what you asked for." She produces from her cloak a thin, silver chain. The amulet suspended from it floats toward him as she pulls it free. "The goldsmith's guild does fine work, and they didn't ask many questions."

"Excellent."

Sobervre reaches out to the amulet and catches it as it floats by. A silver, diamond-shaped amulet with a few clear crystal facets. Visible in the center, a small, glowing white sphere suspended in some alchemical solution.

"Had a chance to test it, yet?"

Aeylida nods again.

"It worked well enough. Subjugated the target perfectly. Made them completely subservient."

"Nice." He wraps the chain around his hand and stares at the pendant for another moment before working to fasten it around his neck. "So who'd you try it on?"

She grins eagerly.

"Titan. The kobolds summoned him again, but his return was very brief. The Admiral's latest group of commissioned adventurers saw to that. But before they did, I slipped in and confirmed that it works. And besides him being more aggressive than usual, there was no way they could tell. Still, it was only one test, so I'd be careful not to rely on it too heavily."

"Well, that's just a fringe benefit, anyroad. But the Lord of Crags, eh?" Sobervre shrugs dismissively. "Not the most luminescent cluster of aether, but no matter. And I only needed this in case I couldn't find a suitable vessel."

"So you don't need it, then?"

Aeylida tilts her head, and Sobervre shakes his.

"Well, it was supposed to absorb and convert this world's aether equivalent into something usable for me, but this vessel seems more than sufficient for that. And that fringe benefit may come in handy." At that thought, his lips curl up in a thin, sinister grin. He looks back over at his new guest, relaxing it into something more cordial. "And you were so kind to deliver it. Would be rude to reject this fine token of your esteemed affection, after all."

She pulls down at her hood, trying to hide her own grin.

"So what actually happened?" She gestures to his still slightly smoldering cloak. "And don't be evasive."

"Had a visitor." With the clasp of the necklace now fastened, he folds his arms, frowning. "One of those Servant creatures. Probably of the Caster class, given how she could follow the flow of my vortex to this space. Fear I underestimated her tenacity. And overestimated her patience. She quickly grew bored with our banal back-and-forth and let me know in no uncertain terms."

"She attacked you?" Aeylida lets her hood go, revealing her slackened jaw. "Were you—"

"No, I'm fine. Just a bit of ringing in my ears, and still seeing some spots, but fine."

"So you just let her leave?"

Sobervre nods. "Had my fun. She got her satisfaction. An equitable exchange. Though it reminds me, I should probably seal this space so neither she nor anyone else can intrude uninvited. It means you'll have to call ahead next time, too."

"Sobervre…" Aeylida sighs, shaking her head. "You're far too reckless. But you're sure it was a Servant?"

He nods. "Gods, I certainly hope so. I'd shudder if there were common beings in this world capable of tracing our vortices to these spaces betwixt the universes. That alone would be scary enough, but that others exist who could command power such as she so effortlessly wielded against me, here, would make me reconsider this as a fool's errand."

Sufficiently convinced, Aeylida breathes out a small, relieved sigh.

"If you believe so. You've been observing here for years, after all." Her light smile dips. "Just please be sure not to waste this second chance. Most who leave or are cast from the convocation are not welcomed back."

Sobervre sighs, then nods.

"Yes, yes. You needn't remind me. Yet they still let my seat grow cold. Though why you used your deciding vote to turn the tide in my favor, I'll never understand."

"Yes, well…" Her weakened smile regains some of its strength. "You bring a sort of… levity. And your leaving was your choice, so I don't see why you should be forever barred for that."

"Meh, they were right." He spins around, refolding his arms. "It was a stupid choice made for a completely irrational reason, and all it gained me was misery."

"Well, if I was the only vote cast in your favor, I might agree with you." She sighs despondently. "But your idea and reason for coming back, and for coming to this place, seemed to pique the interest of quite a few of our brethren. Don't sell yourself short. If you'd never come here, we'd know nothing about this place, or the artifact."

"Maybe…" He breathes his own frustrated sigh, then shows a smirk completely bereft of levity. "Only time will tell. Until then, it's a waiting game until I see the right moment to act. And as you've accomplished what you came for, you should probably return."

"Actually…" There's a hint of suggestion in her tone as she floats over behind him, draping herself over his shoulders. "I was thinking something else…"

With one exception, the place she'd sought to rouse, his entire form stiffens uncomfortably at her gesture, and he breathes out another deep sigh, shaking his head.

"You're as subtle as a book with a single word written on every page, Aeylida. Why you continue in this course is beyond me."

Wordlessly, she breathes out, tickling the back of his neck, even for the cloak covering it. But all it does is stir bitter memories, and he shrugs her off.

"Seriously, you're playing with fire." He floats forward, then slowly turns again, showing a deep and pain-filled frown. "Even if I could reciprocate, I wouldn't. Wouldn't be right. Too damaged, and all that rot. Why board a sinking ship when there's plenty of other perfectly seaworthy vessels for you to enjoy your time on?"

"Yes, but…" Smoothly, her lips curl up in a fine smile as she floats forward, stopping a breath's distance away. "What damaged your vessel came along well after I knew I wanted to make you mine, Sobervre. And I'm willing to wait until you—" She reaches up and strokes the underside of his chin. "—can make your own vessel seaworthy again."

"Careful not to confuse your metaphors," he grumbles, then smirks. "That ship's just fine. I'm talking about this one." He taps his temple roughly. "It couldn't weather a sunny day in the kiddy pool."

"I know." Chuckling, she smiles, then rests her head on his chest. "Someday it will. I'll be waiting until then."

"You'll be waiting a long time…"

"It's fine. After all, we're nothing if not patient."


By the time Souichirou and Issei have reached the school, the sun is close to where it was when they arrived yesterday, cresting just over the horizon. There's been little discussion along the way, and that seems unlikely to change now as they stand between the cement walls of the open gate, staring ahead over the school's brick-paved courtyard.

"Ryuudou-kun." So when Souichirou does speak up, it's to Issei's complete surprise. "Is everything well? You seem out of sorts this morning."

"Ah, Kuzuki-sensei…" He runs his hand across the back of his neck awkwardly, showing a small, uncomfortable smile. "So you noticed…"

He nods as he glances over, then waits wordlessly for elaboration.

"Right, just… I woke up starving this morning, and I can't even recall going to bed." He sighs, shaking his head. "I know I arrived at the temple, then met your fiance. I recall her being rather cross… But then there's this blank space in my day. I guess I'm just still trying to figure out what happened."

"Hmm…" Still staring at Issei, Souichirou folds his arms, nodding thoughtfully. "Is this the first time something like that has happened?"

"Eh?" Surprised, Issei turns his head toward the teacher more fully. "I mean, I think so? I can't say for a hundred percent, to be honest."

"It could simply be fatigue. For now, just keep an eye on it." He turns his head away, looking toward the school building. "If it happens again, I'd recommend having it checked out."

"Right." Issei breathes out a small sigh. "Sure, thanks. I guess you need to get to the teacher's room, and I should get to the council room."

Already on his way, Souichirou nods again. With his bag held over his shoulder, Issei pushes up his glasses and follows close behind.


The day flies until lunch, and there's little to distract the students from their studies, as a certain diminutive, red-clad, attention-consuming singularity is nowhere to be seen.

When lunch finally rolls around, Shirou is quite ready for it, and he and Issei head to the council room, away from the bustle of the rest of the students in both the classroom and the cafeteria.

Issei stares at his own lunch box, his brow pressed and wearing a small, slanted frown. Dissatisfied with what he sees, he looks over at Shirou's box, and particularly at the contents of it.

"Emiya, could I trouble you to part with some of your chicken?" He sighs, staring back into his own lunchbox and poking around the contents with his chopsticks. Another simple salad and some plain white rice. "My lunch is desperately lacking in meat."

Shirou glances over, then shrugs.

"Sure, I don't mind…" Carefully, he transfers a few pieces of rolled, seared chicken from his box over to Issei's. "But why is your lunch so plain? I know you live in a temple, but there's nothing about that stopping you from eating meat or anything like that, right?"

Issei sighs, shaking his head. "That's a pretty old-fashioned way of thinking, Emiya. It's just how my father is. Saying things like 'young priests shouldn't indulge in luxuries like fine food' and that I should 'work hard for what I want'." His small, slanted frown grows as his mouth falls open, while he looks down and away, folding his arms. "I'm thinking of running away and joining the circus."

Unseriously spoken, his jest is delivered with a flat and dry tone.

Shirou smirks, nodding. "Sounds like him."

He pokes around in his own lunch box, trying to decide where to start as he thinks back on what he knows of Issei's father. The head priest of the Ryuudou Temple, known for his boldness and also a friend of Fujimura's grandfather, the head of the Fujimura group. A well-known syndicate, not unlike the Yakuza, and not something spoken of casually.

That a priest and a crime boss would even be acquaintances, let alone close friends, is a strangeness that has not eluded him.

Still undecided with where to begin, Shirou points with his chopsticks at Issei's hand.

"Just make sure you remember where that came from." He points them more precisely at Issei's own chopsticks, currently bringing one of the gifted pieces of chicken to his mouth. "Make sure you repay that debt."

Issei lets out a full, open-mouthed sigh before nodding, the chicken just shy of his lips.

"Of course. It is part of my religious training, after all." He makes a show of bowing deeply in gratitude, then frowns, looking away again. "Of course you'd have to let me, first."

This last part is muttered under his breath as he slips the chicken in and sets to work, breaking it apart. A fine flavor, well complimented by the cooking wine that it had been steamed in, and the carrots and beans around which it had been rolled. Issei's minor annoyed frown fails under its flavor, reforming into a satisfied smile.

Shirou tilts his head at the gesture, then shrugs.

I never know what to say whenever I remember he's the son of a priest.

He looks down at his own box and seizes some of his own chicken. As he brings it to his mouth, Issei finishes with his bite and raises his stare, eyeing him from across the table.

"Oh, by the way, Emiya. Did you hear what happened around 2nd avenue? It's right around the intersection where we separate."

For his mouth being full, all Shirou can offer in reply is a slight head-tilt.

He must mean where all those police cars were…

Issei nods. "This morning, one of the council members was talking about it. I don't know where he heard it from. It's all second hand information." He stares down at his lunchbox, setting his chopsticks inside it. "Father, mother and eldest daughter. Except for the youngest child, the entire family there were all stabbed to death. In the back, through the heart. They said the strange thing was that the weapon wasn't a knife, but something much longer." He frowns deeply. "But that wasn't the worst part… Apparently, afterward, something tore their hearts out."

Shirou's chewing slows to a complete stop. Despite his mouth being full of food, he can feel it quickly running dry, making it difficult to swallow.

Longer than a knife… So something like a sword? And someone used it to murder the parents and their daughter… Leaving just the child?

From what Issei says, Shirou can imagine it in his mind. Someone rushing down on the people in the house, running them through, then turning on the daughter before she even has a chance to react or realize what's happening. And their youngest child, who can only watch as his parents and sister's blood is strewn across the room.

Across himself.

"Issei…" Slowly, his eyes drift open, his mouth a hard line, his brow pressed firmly downward. "Have they caught them? Whoever did it?"

Issei shakes his head. "It doesn't seem so. They were puzzled by the removal of the hearts most of all, since it seems to have happened after their deaths, based on things like blood loss. They would have been worthless, given how damaged they must have been. With the accidents from the faulty construction over in Shinto, and now this…" He sighs deeply again. "Things just keep getting worse. No wonder they're enforcing a school curfew…?" Issei looks up, and his voice trails at Shirou's expression. "Emiya? What's wrong? Did you take too large a bite?"

Still glaring down, Shirou shakes his head. "No? Why, what's wrong?"

"I was just surprised, is all…" Issei mutters. "Your expression was rather disturbing. I should apologize. This isn't something that should be discussed over lunch."

Shirou glances up from his box, over at Issei across the table, tilting his head.

Really? I didn't think I was that bothered by it… Was I really making such a face? I mean, I feel bad, especially for that child—!

The second he thinks that thought, he recalls something from yesterday morning. Another person, a child, and something they'd said.

'Mom and dad… aren't around anymore. It's okay. You couldn't have known—'

His stare drops again, his deep frown sharpening.

A child shouldn't have to say things like that… But now, this family's child… Just like that little guy…

Deep in his thoughts, he barely hears the quiet knock at the door, and looks up in time to see a teacher poking his head in.

"Excuse me, is Ryuudou-kun here?" Even-toned, Souichirou asks as he steps into the council room.

"Huh?" Issei looks up, meeting his gaze. "Yes? What is it, Kuzuki-sensei?"

Shirou looks from the teacher over at Issei, tilting his head.

Huh. He's usually pretty guarded, so it's rare to see him relax like that. Maybe they're just about to discuss some student council stuff.

He then looks back over at the teacher.

They're pretty similar. Both serious-minded. I guess that's why they get along so well.

Shirou looks back down at his half-eaten lunchbox, yet he's lost his appetite.

Despite the minor distraction, the heavy subject from before still weighs on his mind. He'd lost his parents, but was spared the fate of the surviving child of this slaughtered family.

The fate of that strange young child he'd met yesterday.

Of his friend and junior, Sakura.

And then there was the lighthearted subject they'd spoken of yesterday. Shirou's determination to become a superhero.

Sure, they'd laughed, but he meant it.

And still means it.

If I were, maybe I could have done something… Maybe… I can still do something? I mean, not for the parents, or the daughter, obviously…

Oblivious, Issei and Souichirou continue their discussion, but Shirou can't hear them.

His hands tighten and clench on the table as he turns the idea over in his mind. It's a silly notion, but one he can't let go, like a set of puzzle rings he's determined to dismantle.

Finally, he stands, clipping his lunchbox closed and walking over toward the door.

"Sorry to interrupt…" he says, hand on the door, looking back over his shoulder with a serious frown. "Kuzuki-sensei, do you know if Fuji-n, er, Fujimura-sensei is still in the teacher's lounge?"

Unblinkingly, Souichirou looks from Issei over at Shirou.

"Last I knew. Did you have business with her?"

Shirou's answer comes as a silent nod, and he steps into the hall, closing the door behind him.


Kiritsugu saved me… It's not the same thing, what happened to me, and what happened to that family, but still…

His thoughts rage behind his sharp frown, narrowed eyes and pressed brow as he slides open the door to the teacher's lounge. Wasting no time, he finds Fujimura staring absently out the window. His expression eases as he crosses the lounge toward her. With a firm tap on her shoulder, he breaks her from her thoughtless daze, causing her to spin around.

"Shirou?" She tilts her head, her eyes widening at his expression. Even at his presence, since he rarely, if ever, comes to the lounge, or even to see her outside of class. "What are you doing here? Did something happen?"

Still frowning, he can't decide if he should nod, or shake his head, so he settles on a sigh.

"Yeah, sort of… Mind if we talk for a minute?"

Quietly, Fujimura nods, gesturing to a chair, and for Shirou to sit. Carefully, she listens, digesting his worried words and serious concerns. By the time he's finished expressing himself, her own feelings are a mixture of concern and pride.

"That's awful… What happened, I mean," she says, turning her head and staring outside. "And I can appreciate your desire. But you're still just a student…" She sighs, turning her stare back to meet his. "I think—no, I know—it would be too much for you to take on yourself. I'm sorry, Shirou, but I can't approve of what you're suggesting." Still, she smiles gently as she pats him on both shoulders. "It's just too much for you as a student. But that you would even…" Her voice trails off. "I'm just proud of the person you're becoming."

Deeply frowning, Shirou sighs. But he can't fault her logic. If he were just a year older, there would have been no issue. But she's right. He's young, and a student, so logistically, what he wanted was unreasonable.

Even if it wasn't, it would have been impossible.

"Right… Thanks, Fuji-nee. Sorry for asking something so unreasonable." He stands and turns his head, glaring outside through the window. "I mean, I was just thinking of… a lot of things, and it made me want to do something."

"I understand." Fujimura stands up as well. "Terrible things happen all the time. It's just the world we live in. But I'm sure wherever he is, Kiritsugu is smiling too at the person you're becoming."

Slowly, Shirou nods. "I hope so. I need to get to class. Thanks again, Fuji-nee. See you at dinner." Still frowning, his words, his tone, are bereft of spirit as he turns to leave.

Fujimura watches his back as he goes, his unreasonable request still fresh in her mind. Slowly, the corners of her lips twitch up into a sort of somber smile, and she reaches for a nearby phone, punching in a familiar number.

It rings a few times before someone on the other end picks up, answering in a gruff voice.

"Fujimura residence. This is Raiga."

"I know who it is, grandpa."

"Cub!" The voice on the other side lifts, his sudden smile coming through clearly.

She frowns sharply, then sighs.

"I was wondering if you had a minute? I have a favor I need to ask."

"Well, as long as it's nothing too unreasonable…"

Her sharp frown lifts into a fresh, light smile.


The time between when Shirou steps outside the teacher's lounge and now, where he stands staring at the archery dojo building, passes in a blur.

He can only hope that whatever lessons were taught, he retained subconsciously, and whatever discussions he had with other students were so banal that they required no thoughtful input from him. Between everything with Sakura, what he'd heard from Mitsuzuri, and his discussion with Issei and the idea that conceived, there was little room left for his brain to engage in much heavy lifting.

It was that second point, his discussion with the archery club captain, that steered his feet to where he is now, staring at the club building tinted in reds and oranges by the now setting sun.

He sighs, shaking his head and frowning.

"Geez, what am I doing? Mitsuzuri says Tohsaka comes here often, and Shinji's still pretty pissed. He'll be even more upset when he learns that Sakura's agreed to stay at my place until he cools his head…"

His frown wrinkles down into a slant.

"I guess I hadn't thought of that. He may never cool his head… Is she just supposed to stay at my place forever? Grr.." He shakes his head again. "That's not the problem. If Shinji's pissed, and he can't take it out on Sakura, he might turn his attention to Tohsaka. I should at least warn her. He just doesn't stop when he gets angry."

Still frowning, he peers into the building through the slatted windows. It's not dark inside, and there are a few students in their uniforms that he can make out milling about near the back, selecting their bows and acquiring their quivers.

But there's one person conspicuous for their absence.

"She's not here."

"Oh? Who's not here?"

Unnoticed until now, someone speaks out from behind him, shaking his thoughts like a snow globe. He spins to see Issei staring at him with a completely bored expression.

"So? Who's not here?" He repeats himself as Shirou attempts to settle the snowflakes.

"Oh, it's you, Issei." He sighs, trying to catch his breath. "Jeez, don't sneak up on me like that. You took two years off my life."

Issei eyes him from the side, then looks over at the building.

"So you say, but you were the one looking at the dojo so suspiciously. So, who's not here?"

For a second time, he repeats the question.

"Who? Oh, Tohsaka." He looks over at the building, then back at Issei. "I'd heard she got into it with Shinji yesterday, so I wanted to check how things were."

"Oh wow, now that is suspicious." Issei folds his arms, staring at Shirou through narrowed eyes. "I only asked who wasn't here, but you just came right out with your reasons."

"Eh—?!" Issei's small tease strikes a sensitive chord, causing Shirou to grind his teeth. "What? Why is what I'm doing any concern of yours?!"

Issei shrugs, then lets his hand rest in his pants pocket.

"Well, that is true. It really isn't. But your being here is meaningless, Emiya. Tohsaka wouldn't be here. That's because she intentionally skipped school today."

"What?" Shirou's sharp irritation cools at the revelation. "So… she's absent? Wait, Issei. How can you say she skipped school? I don't think she'd do something like that."

"Of course she would." He turns his head to one side, wearing a deep, open-mouthed frown. "Someone as evil as she is would have no trouble with something so simple. And you too, Emiya." He looks back up. "If you let yourself be deceived by her appearances, she'll surely devour you."

Still frowning, Shirou breathes out an irritated sigh. For reasons he can't understand, Issei's claims grind at him.

Well, it's true I don't know her, but I can't imagine she's a bad person.

"You're going too far, Issei." He folds his arms, glaring forward. "Tohsaka can't be like that."

"Hmm?" Issei's eyes widen. "Wait, you're after her too?" They then slowly drift close as he strokes his chin, nodding thoughtfully. "I see. Then please forgive my thoughtless remarks and disregard what I just said."

"Wh—!?"

A-After Tohsaka? Who said anything like that?

The thought is so baffling that he has to reset himself to complete it out loud.

"Don't make such ridiculous assumptions!" At his sides, he clenches his hands. "I just thought it'd be bad if she got into it with Shinji again!"

"So you were planning to intervene if Shinji tried something against Tohsaka?" Issei turns fully toward Shirou again, letting his hand slip back into his pocket, the other relaxing at his side. "It's your business if you want to do something for no gain again, Emiya, but I'd be remiss if I didn't comment on your poor taste."

"It's not for no gain, I haven't even done anything." Shirou sighs out his slight irritation and tries to relax his frown away. "But aren't you saying something weird?"

"Huh?" Issei tilts his head, peering at Shirou curiously. "You mean about how going after Tohsaka is in poor taste?"

Shirou nods. "Yeah. She's popular, right? And I haven't heard anything bad about her."

"Yes, exactly." Agreeing, Issei nods sharply. "And that's exactly what I don't like about it."

"What is it you don't like?" Shirou asks, now tilting his head.

"Everything!" Finally, Issei can hold back no longer, and delves into a nonsensical rant. "The woman is a fox, a schoolgirl, and a monster! I just don't like her on an unconscious level! I'll say nothing bad about her, but you should definitely be careful of her!"

"Issei…" Shirou blinks a few times, then frowns, narrowing his eyes. "Aren't you the one always saying we shouldn't speak ill of people behind their backs?"

"Idiot, this doesn't count as talking behind their back. I'm speaking so she can hear it." He turns his head, dropping his gaze and letting out another deep sigh. "It's not my fault she's not here."

Shirou looks behind him, toward the dojo, where he could swear he senses someone eavesdropping on their discussion.

At least it's not Tohsaka, thank god.

"Still, you shouldn't speak so freely about people who aren't around, Issei."

"All right, if you say so." He turns his gaze up from the ground, meeting Shirou's again. "But I meant no insult toward her at all. I was only saying why I'm guarded against her. That should be within my rights, yes?"

"Yeah, except for the parts where you called her a monster and a fox…"

And a schoolgirl. But what did he even mean by that?

Only briefly does he try to puzzle that out.

Casually, Issei shakes his head. "No, that was just praise. There are good foxes and monsters, too. I only applied the terms to describe Tohsaka." Finally, he lets out a delighted chuckle, apparently amused by what he's said. "I need to be going. I have work in the student council room. Speaking of, you have your own work, right? Do you really have the time to be playing around like this?"

Without waiting for an answer, Issei turns and heads back to the building, leaving Shirou thoroughly perplexed and blinking blankly at his wake.

He just vents and leaves. Two years I've known the guy, and I still don't understand his personality…

He sighs, shaking his head. After a few more seconds of staring at the dojo, he turns and leaves the school grounds, waiting at the bus stop near the school's gate. In the stormy sea of concerns vying for his focus, one small piece of flotsam floats to the surface.

But Tohsaka really wasn't here today. I wonder why?