17—Dissonance

One twenty-minute bus ride is all that separates Shirou from the school in Miyama and his place of work across the bridge, over in Shinto. Once the bus's journey ends, and it's groaned to a halt, he departs amidst the group of other passengers, bag in hand, his dark checkered scarf slung around his neck hanging over his beige student's jacket.

After freeing himself from the bustle of the crowd, he's greeted by a cement park. Little grass, concrete slabs paced over by pedestrians, a few trees, some with foliage, and some bereft. The same park which greeted Taiasu when he'd disembarked a similar vessel, albeit in a less orthodox fashion, but tinted in shades of orange with shadows stretched outward opposite the sun, which has begun its descent in the early evening's sky.

As Shirou takes a moment to re-familiarize himself with his surroundings, his eyes rest just briefly on an analog clock affixed to a light pole, where he notes the time.

"Huh. Not quite five yet. I guess I still have some time…"

It would be ideal if he could find work closer to home, but given Miyama is mostly residential, there's little part-time work to be found. Across the bridge, where he is now in Shinto, which is more commercially developed, there are plenty of opportunities available.

And it's for this reason he's here now.

Homurahara Academy permits its students to pursue part-time work. Something about raising a responsible next generation, so Shirou takes advantage to find and work a few that he finds easy. Of course, like so many concepts, that of ease is wholly subjective. Some would prefer simple tasks behind desks, or taking cash for goods as a retail cashier.

His preference is for laborious labor. Basically, being paid to work out and keep in shape.

While contemplating his choices in the matter of employment, he makes his way toward where he'll be working this early evening, just outside the tallest building in the city, near a burned out husk of a park.

Like most of his other jobs, this one requires little active thinking.

The simple, repetitive task of loading construction materials onto a large, flat-bed truck.

But it doesn't start until five, and runs from then until eight. Despite that, the amount of work done would take most twice that much time. As those assigning it are quite stringent about getting it done on time, they permit no breaks while one is on the clock.

And because there's time before the bell, he takes some of it to decide what to do with the rest.

I should rest now, while I can. Even if it's just for ten minutes. Anything else would be a waste of energy. The park nearby should be fine.

With that decided, he makes his way there.


The park is as it's ever been. A big field, covered in dead and dying grass, pocked with stagnant puddles of standing water, bare trees, a few bushes, and some places for sitting. The same park at which Tohsaka will soon arrive, and Taiasu soon after that.

But for now, it serves as Shirou's place of quiet contemplation.

Nobody here. Makes sense, since it's a weekday, but even on the weekend, it's like this. No families playing, or lovers out on a date. Just the same desolate stretch of land…

He breathes out a tired sigh as he stares over the vacant land.

"The same as it always is…" His thoughts drift out, carried off by the wind.

It makes me feel sad…

When compared with how neatly the buildings nearby are kept, it's in complete disrepair. Even without that comparison, it's clear this place has not seen the touch of caring, concerned hands in some time, and the desolation only adds to the chill in the air.

Despite all that, this place still keeps a firm hold on him, for a very special reason.

This is where my life was saved… Ten years ago, from that inferno.

Letting his eyes drift, he searches for a bench to sit, and quickly finds an empty one nearby. As he wanders toward it, he muses over the state of the park.

"They really should plant some grass…" He breathes out another, heavier sigh as he arrives at the bench. "Letting it stay this way is such a waste."

The bench, also unmaintained, groans lightly as he seats himself, thinking absentmindedly about things of little consequence.

Really, it's such a large area going to waste. All they'd have to do is re-tile it to make it serviceable.

Since the bench faces the park, he passes the time while he rests staring at the drab landscape. It stirs trappings of his memories of that time. Disturbing memories, but not ones by which he's disturbed.

Just vague recollections of a time and a place long past.

I don't remember everything… Probably because I was a kid. Even if I was an adult, burning that into my mind would have proved difficult. Mostly, I just remember that it was hot, and hard to breathe… And that people were dying, trying to save other people.

Turning his gaze away from the scene for a moment, he breathes out another heavy sigh.

"Why did it have to be like that…?"

Those memories flit through his mind.

Memories of an adult trying to save a child from a burning house, succeeding at the cost of his own life. People whose throats were seared closed, giving what little water they had to another person. Water which may have saved their own lives. Someone who fled on his own, as fast as his feet could carry him, leaving everyone he passed to die a miserable death.

And people who died for giving away something that was preserving their life, to save that of another person they didn't even know.

Slowly, everything shifts to darkness as his eyelids slide closed.

I hate things like that…

Internally, he complains a bitter complaint any sane person would agree with as obvious. No rational person celebrates when those who work hard to save the lives of others lose their own for their efforts.

Is it too much to ask for an ending where everyone is safe and happy? All I wanted was to see people able to relax in peace. Why is such a thing so far beyond everyone's reach?

Frustrated, his thoughts bounce around in his mind, stirring a familiar voice, and the words the one owning it had once shared with him when he'd expressed a similar sentiment.

'That's difficult. What you want is to save everyone.' Kiritsugu said that when I asked him about this.

Yet, being the child that he was, he denied the answer out of hand. After all, the man had saved him. He was a sorcerer who could do anything. A superhero who wouldn't ignore people in need, and who would save them, desiring nothing in return.

And for those reasons, Shirou believed the man could have saved everyone that day.

But when I told him that, he made this troubled face and said something I still remember.

Slowly, as he recalls those words, he draws in a deep breath of the evening's chilled air, and lets it out as a stream of warm vapor.

'Shirou, saving one person means not saving another. You see, a person can only save those who are on the side they've chosen to take. It should be obvious, right? That's the very definition of a champion of justice.'

At those words, he can feel his face stiffen as his mouth curls down in a hard frown.

With the benefit of hindsight, and having grown older, it's something obvious that he now understands. But it's a truth against which his naïve ideals fight tooth and nail in a storm of dissonance.

A truth he hates with every fiber of his being, regardless of the many examples which prove the truth of those miserable, bitter words.

Salvation shouldn't be limited to just a few people. And I can't stand the thought of anyone, even perfect strangers, just dying around me like they did that day… But anyone aspiring to be a superhero has to make that sort of choice. Choosing who to save and who they have to let die. Even God can't save everyone…

Hunching forward, he kneads his forehead.

"It's even more true if it's something like what happened here. No one could have saved everyone…"

So it's probably a good thing, for him, that the person he is now wasn't there on that day ten years ago.

Knowing himself as he does, he can only acknowledge this.

"Yeah… I definitely would have run into that blaze and died in vain. Geez, I know it, but I'd still do it." He breathes out another sigh in a white cloud. "I'm totally hopeless…"

His eyes snap open as a deep gong sounding five times stirs him from his dark memories.

"Crap, it's already five…"

Shaking his head, he springs to his feet, turns, and sprints toward his work site.


The sun sets, bereaving the land of its warmth, as Shirou completes the last of his work.

His body protests lightly as he stretches while he stands near the street. His reward for his working harder than necessary, impelled by his having been late, is ten extra minutes, since it's ten minutes before eight right now.

In front of the city's largest building, the night is just coming to life.

A constant flow of cars forms a stream in the street, and the sidewalks are becoming clogged with people. Every building he can see has its lights on, and, to him, it feels much like some grand festival of lights.

He loses track of time as he spends it wandering near his workplace, taking in the sights and sounds of the lights and people. Not an enormous amount of time, but it definitely passes before he walks toward the nearest bus stop.

As he walks, his eyes track up the nearby building. The tallest building in two cities. So tall he can't clearly see the top. But he can stare up at it, enjoying the backdrop of the night's scenery. And that's what he's doing when something out-of-place catches his eye.

"What was that?"

His steps slow, then stop completely, and he stares at what he thinks he sees, narrowing his eyes to improve his focus, and even channeling a small measure of his own magical energy into them to enhance his already acute eyesight.

A task so simple it requires little more than a thought.

Without that, what he sees from here, something as small as a grain of rice, would be impossible to make out.

When he gets a better look, he lets out a surprised sound as he tries to process what he's seeing.

It looks like… But why is she…? What would she be doing there?

The figure stands so far above him he couldn't reach her with an arrow, looking down, doing nothing as far as he can tell.

Just standing, letting the wind carry her long, dark hair as she stares down at the town.

Hmm… Doesn't seem like she's noticed me. I mean, how could she? Even after enhancing my vision, I can still barely see her, and that's just because she's alone. There's no way she could pick me out with everyone else around.

Still as stone, she continues to stand, staring down as if seeking something out. As Shirou stares up at her vacantly, time slows to a crawl, then seems to stop altogether.

It's like she's at the top of a tall tower. No, that's dumb. She literally is on top of a tall tower.

With the moon at her back, and her piercing gaze surveying the city street below, some absurd thought encroaches in his mind.

It's like she's… Come on, a witch? That's stupid… I must be tired—?

Light obscuring clouds hide the figure on the skyscraper's roof from his sight. By the time they've drifted past, the girl he's certain was Rin Tohsaka has disappeared. Likely nothing so fantastic, but more probably she's simply moved away from the edge of the building.

With her figure having vanished, he's left only with a view of the night's sky.

"That was Tohsaka, right?"

Sighing, he turns his head down, then winces, finding his neck stiff for having stared up for so long.

Well, I don't have any proof, but I think it was… I mean, how many other girls stand out as much as she does? And I doubt I'd mistake the girl I secretly admire. Even I'm not that stupid.

Folding his arms, shaking his head, he frowns down at the ground.

"Well… Tohsaka sure has some strange hobbies…"

Then something in his thoughts bubbles up again. Something he's been wrestling with internally, on and off, ever since that morning during his walk with Sakura. A walk he'd not even planned to take, but circumstances moved him to it.

And of course, the more time he spends together with her, the more difficult it is for him to silence his thoughts and deny his feelings.

Right… But that just makes me indecisive, doesn't it? Thinking that way about Tohsaka while still trying to decide how I feel about Sakura? I mean, who would I even choose…?

He scoffs.

"Yeah, right. Listen to me. I sound like a housewife trying to pick between two pieces of produce. Like I could have either… Certainly not both, that's just ridiculous…"

Shaking his head, smirking at himself, he sighs, then resumes his way to the nearest bus. While waiting, he checks the time and his eyes bulge.

W-What?! That says it's half-past eight already! What happened to the time?!

Palming his face, shaking his head, he heaves out a deep sigh.

Jeez, Fuji-nee's gonna skin me for sure.


It's just past nine when Shirou disembarks the bus.

The stop is close to his house, but it's still a fair distance. Closer to the junction that he crosses each day than it is to his actual house. And again, for it being late, and with Miyama being as residential as it is, there's no one around, leaving the night eerily quiet and feeling unnaturally still.

As he walks toward the intersection, he spies the house he'd seen surrounded by officers that morning. Gone are the onlookers, and affixed to the door is a large sign emblazoned with the words 'Do Not Enter'.

As if it was needed, with all the police tape. A single day is all it took for that house to become abandoned.

That house… The parents and that child's sister, murdered… What kind of life remains for the child left behind? I really wish I could do something…

Chewing his lip in frustration, he walks past. There's nothing for him to do. Bitterly, he complains in his mind.

Even after I swore to myself I'd become like Kiritsugu… It happened so close, but there was nothing I could do. I want to help, but I don't even know what I can do…

There's nothing of note between there and his house. Just the hill, and as he finishes making his way, he notes the lights on, pouring out through the entryway to the residence.

Hm… If the lights are on, then Sakura or Fuji-nee must still be there.


His routine is the same. Absent of mind, he leaves his shoes at the door, then makes his way to the living room, sliding open the door, slipping inside, and closing it behind him.

"I'm home…?"

As he peers around the room briefly, it doesn't take long for him to spy the only other occupant sitting on the floor at the table with her back to him.

Turning her head, Fujimura casts him a backward glance, and he can see her pressing a finger to her lips.

He arches his brow, and she points down at her lap.

Huh…? What's up with Fuji-nee…?

Curious, he moves around to see and spies her caressing the head of a young girl, whose puffy eyes are relaxed, closed. Gently, her chest rises and falls in a calm rhythm as she sighs out each breath.

"Fuji-nee? Who's this?"

She looks from him, back down at her lap where the girl continues resting undisturbed.

"Remember what you asked me about earlier today?" she asks quietly, continuing to run her fingers through the girl's hair.

"Earlier…? You mean, about that family? Wait, so is she—?"

"Shh! Keep quiet, Shirou."

She hisses out, then sighs, shaking her head.

"Yes, this is that child. After that talk…" She smiles down at her. "Well, the short of it is that I'll be looking after her for a while."

"Hmm…"

Shirou's lips press into a thin line as he stares down at the girl, then looks up at his teacher. His feelings are mixed. She's not proven the most reliable adult he's ever known, so there's some concern there. And that she'd let herself be influenced by his whims seems to tell more in that regard.

Still, that she'd go this far… Maybe she's actually growing up?

He smirks lightly at the thought.

His eyes then trace up to the TV, which has some variety show playing, but the sound is muted. Fujimura reaches across the table with her free hand, taking a rice cracker from the tin and bringing it to her mouth.

"But we can talk about that later…" she mutters, frowning as she takes a bite from the cracker. "You're home far too late again. I keep telling you to come home early, since it gets dark so much sooner during the winter!"

She furrows her brow and shoots him a narrow-eyed glance.

Shirou sighs, shaking his head. "This is early. As early as it can be… The job finishes at eight. It takes twenty minutes to get from Miyama to Shinto, and that's after waiting for the bus. Don't be so unreasonable."

Shrewdly, he keeps the real reason for his being late, that he'd been wandering, absently and distracted, to himself. He takes another glance around, then sniffs at the air and realizes what's off.

"So, where's Sakura? It looks like dinner's ready, but…"

"She had to go pick up some things…" Fujimura's small frown recasts into a knowing grin. "But before she left, she worked hard to prepare Shizuka here's favorite meal…"

She looks down at the girl again, and her grin falls into something more sad.

"She got a bit upset, Shizuka that is, and Sakura left to get her things soon after…"

"Shizuka?" Shirou looks down at her, his head tilted. "That's her name?"

Fujimura nods. "Shizuka Itchi. She's been resting like this for a while after Sakura left."

"Hmm…" Shirou folds his arms, nodding thoughtfully. "Well, her grabbing her things… seems like a good idea."

"Yes, if she's going to be staying here." Fujimura looks up again, smirking. "Speaking of. What led to that?"

"Ah—" Shirou's words catch in his throat. "Um… Well…"

He shifts his eyes down at the ground.

Telling about what she's had to deal with at the hands of her brother isn't really his place, so he combs his mind for the more practical reasons he'd come up with.

"Since she's here all the time, anyway, I thought it'd save her some time in the mornings so she could get more rest, is all."

"Uh-huh…" Her smooth grin widens, and it's clear she's not buying that for a second. "Well, whatever the real reason is, just be prudent. You're both young adults now, and I've watched you both grow close over this past year. Really, you've turned this place from a house into a home I can feel comfortable in."

"Yeah, sure. I'm telling you, it's nothing like whatever you're thinking, Fuji-nee…" Shirou lets out a deep sigh, slumping forward as he moves to sit opposite her. "If I can't get her to change her mind about coming around, at least I can make it easier on her. I guess I owe her that much…?"

As he sits, his feet naturally touch on something under the table, which rolls out the other side. He shifts his position to get a better look.

"Fuji-nee? What's that thing there?" He points his finger at the rolled up paper. "Don't tell me you're bringing more junk here."

He frowns down at it, recalling her tendency to view this place as a sort of storage shed for her trinkets. Things like a heavy teapot she got while out shopping, some odd guitar that plays by itself, and a few large bowls from various restaurants around town.

"If it is, I'll be throwing it away, so let me see it."

"This?" She looks down at the rolled up paper, shifting slightly to better reach for it. "It's a poster left over at my place somehow."

She reaches down, takes it up and passes it over. As Shirou unrolls it, he stands up, staring down at it and making his way around the table.

Probably for some infamous idol or… something…?

His eyes trace down from the top, reading the words.

"Let's see…"

On the poster is someone dressed in fatigues, giving the camera a big thumbs up standing in front of a cheap looking blue sky background. Past that, further down, in big bold blood-red letters, read the words he mouths silently.

'Love's Lovely Ranger Land. Please join their Self Defense Force.'

His eyes grow wider with each word they trace over, until they reach the end, when he pinches them shut. His grip on the poster tightens until it shakes.

This is some… stupid army recruiting poster?!

Fujimura grins up at him, watching his reaction.

"I don't want it, so I thought I'd let you have it."

"Wh—what?! I don't want this either!"

His eyes snap open and he glares down at it again. Finally, he rolls it up and swings it at his teacher's head. Deftly, she deflects the half-hearted attempt with a second poster he hadn't seen yet.

"Heheh, you missed…"

With a swift riposte, she lands her own strike directly on his head.

The swing is soft, but the sound made is anything but as it cracks against his skull. Something like the mallet he'd used that morning to tenderize the chicken each time he'd struck it, and the room goes white for a moment.

"Guhhh!?"

He grunts as his hand flies to his head, and his teacher chuckles again.

"Hehehe, don't imagine you can hit me with skills like that." She taps the poster in her hand on her shoulder. "You need to practice more."

"G-Guh… That's not the problem, Fuji-nee! What was that?! Why did it make a sound like that?!"

"Huh?" She looks down at the poster, then frowns, wincing. "Oh, sorry… This is the one I'm keeping. It's a special first edition made from steel plate."

Slowly, she looks up from the poster, toward the boy rubbing his head, then checking his hand to make sure he's not bleeding.

"Shirou, is your head all right?"

He groans out a sigh. "Fuji-nee, your personality is going to get someone killed someday."

"Hehe." She chuckles again. "I'm not worried about that. If it did happen, you'd just have to marry me, right?"

Anyone else hearing such ridiculous reasoning would have to stop the conversation cold to restart their brain. Fortunately, Shirou has had years to get used to such strange logic.

"I completely refuse," he says flatly, holding his arms across his chest in a big 'X'. "I have no intention of marrying such a thoughtless killer."

"Hey…" She frowns up at him. "I don't think I'm that dangerous of a person."

Shirou sighs, letting his arms drop as he returns to his side of the table.

"I knew it. It's really true that people don't know themselves…"

Fujimura is about to deliver another sharp retort when a soft yawn distracts her. She looks down to see Shizuka blinking up, her mouth wrinkled halfway between a line and an amused smile.

"Ah, Itchi-chan, you're awake now?"

She nods up at her, then sits up and looks across the table at Shirou, who's rubbing the sore spot on his head again. He catches her stare and forces an awkward smile as he looks at her from across the table.

"This is Shirou. Shirou, this is Shizuka Itchi." Now that the girl's been jostled awake by the awkward movements and their strange discussion, Fujimura introduces them properly. "This is actually my family's house, but we're letting him freeload here."

"Hey, I'm not freeloading," Shirou mutters, frowning and glancing toward the TV. "I make sure the place is kept immaculate, and work hard so you can enjoy eating good food."


Shirou sees them both to the door. As Fujimura is putting on her shoes, Shizuka turns toward him, looking up with sad eyes. He look down to meet hers, tilting his head, waiting to see if she has something to say.

It's an uncomfortable moment before she finally speaks up.

"Um…" She drops her stare, then tugs at her fingers. "Please tell Sakura-san that her food was good… And that I'm sorry for what I said."

"Huh?" Shirou blinks down at her words. "What you said?"

"I got upset… and said some things…"

Her gaze traces to the floor.

Whatever other thought there is remains unspoken, hidden behind her eyes. Shirou looks from her, up to Fujimura, whose stare is fixed on the girl. Filled with uncertainty, he looks back down, trying to hold his awkward-feeling smile in place.

"Well, whatever happened, I'm sure she knows you meant no harm," he says. His hand again awkwardly parses the individual hairs on the back of his head. "She's pretty tough when it comes to things like that. But I'll tell her for you, just the same."

With her eyes still glued to the floor, Shizuka gives a light, solemn nod, then works to fasten her shoes. Uncomfortable silence prevails for the rest of their time at the door until it's slid open, and Shizuka and Fujimura step through into the cool evening air.

Before they leave, the teacher turns again.

"I meant what I said earlier." Her tone is uncharacteristically stern. "Whatever happens tonight between you and Sakura. Just be prudent. I'm trusting you both to act mature."

"F-Fuji-nee, I already said—"

"I know what you've been saying, but I'm saying this, anyway." She reaches forward, tweaking his nose unseriously. "Sometimes, I actually have to at least pretend to be the adult in the room."

With nothing left unsaid, she slides the door closed behind them. Rubbing his nose, Shirou stands by the door, waiting for what, he isn't sure. But the next thing he hears is the sound of his teacher's moped firing up. He tenses up, but the tension relaxes into surprised relief as there's no pitched squealing of tires.

Just the calm, cautious rumble of the engine as it fades quietly into the distance.