SOMEWHERE OVER JAPAN

Ritsuka Emiya let out a soft sigh, and stretched in her seat like a cat. This world's Zelretch had not skimped on luxury when it came to the private plane that she and Gudao were currently travelling in. Privately, she preferred more spartan environs. They were easier to maintain, easier to leave behind thanks to the lack of emotional attachments. But having Gudao feeding her grapes as though she were some Queen of old as she lounged in her seat wasn't something she would complain about.

No.

Her thoughts were occupied with a thought. A single thought that consisted of a tangled mess of other, smaller thoughts.

Her Father was alive.

Or more precisely, this version of her father was alive. One that had not put the Grail War before his family. One that had in fact ended the Grail Wars permanently for his family. For Illya, and for Irisviel. And She had no idea what to feel about that.

Her Kiritsugu Emiya had been a harsh taskmaster. Obsessed to the point of insanity with saving his eldest daughter and little else. The sister she would later meet during the Fifth Holy Grail War. Illyasviel, Master of Berserker. So she had trained. She had learned. She had endured agony after agony, humiliation after humiliation, all for the sake of succeeding Kiritsugu as the Magus Killer. All for the sake of saving and serving her sister.

Until his final, greatest cruelty. As he lay dying, he robbed her of that. Robbed her of her purpose. He had told her not to take up his old mantle, begged her not to. Made her swear to him she wouldn't. He likely thought he was being kind. Allowing her a 'normal' life. Allowing her to have no further part of the Moonlit world.

But he hadn't told her what her new purpose was, what she was meant to do! He had left her adrift, as well as alone.

True, Taiga had been there, and she truly cherished the older woman's friendship. But having to wear a false mask of near permanent helpfulness had exhausted her. Needing to help anyone however she could, just in the hope it might become her purpose...exhausted her.

Wasn't that the point of life? To discover and fulfil one's purpose? And to end oneself when said purpose was complete?

It was no surprise that she ended up in the Fifth Holy Grail War. Nor was her Servant a surprise, in hindsight. Mordred Pendragon, the Knight of Rebellion. The Saber Servant for the Fifth War. The child of her Father's servant during the Fourth War. It made a certain amount of sense, she supposed. Both of them had been damaged, beaten down and twisted by their guardian. Both of them desperately pursued the ever nebulous concept of 'Purpose' to the exclusion of all else.

So they had fought side by side, taking down Rider and Caster before Saber had given Assassin an honourable exit in battle. Then came time to face Berserker, but that had a tragic ending. She hadn't taken Illya's death at the hands of Gilgamesh well at all. She had dug her sister's grave herself, held both a funeral and a vigil for the fallen child by herself...and then proceeded to barricade herself in her room with more alcohol than was likely healthy.

Because she was alone in the world. Truly alone in the world.

She had been spiraling into the depths of purposeful self destruction. Her genuinely suicidal one-woman assault on the Kotomine Church using her Father's old equipment (and had made her grateful for the wonderfully copious amounts of explosives her Father had left behind) would have resulted in a second Great Fire of Fuyuki had it not been of Gudao's quick thinking. (There had been a slim upside, Lancer had betrayed Kirei and held him down as the Church burned down with the both of them inside. Why her Father had white phosphorus, she'd never managed to figure out.)

It was only her words, hollow and lifeless, after they returned home from that incident that had keyed Saber and Gudao into how utterly broken (and in her mind, unlovable) she was, forcing the both of them to drag her out of her selfish depression.

The method they had used, whilst highly enjoyable in the moment, was probably not a healthy coping mechanism. At least not on a mental standpoint. But she had woken up in a warm bed, wrapped up in the arms of both Gudao and Mordred, aching pleasantly and more at peace than she had ever been.

Although she had to admit, she had loved that last fight. The blood and heat and pain. She had loved the feeling of the Golden Bastard's nose crunching under her fist and savoured the coppery taste of his blood on her lips. The look of shock and loathing as Archer's arrow struck him in the head and he'd been swallowed by blackness warmed her heart yet still.

The following few days after the end of the Grail War were strange, to say the least. It had been nice to drop the mask. To just..be. Without needing to express emotion, real or faked, just to make those around her comfortable. To know that Gudao loved her because she was herself, and not in spite of it.

So when he told her that he wanted to go to London and attend the Clocktower, she jumped at the chance to go with him. To be the ever present shadow at Gudao's back and protecting him from any of the other students at the school. It wasn't all bad, however. She had found a kindred spirit in one Luviagelita Edelfelt in the ancient and enjoyable art of beating the ever-loving crap out of each other.

Ritsuka wondered how she would get along with this world's Luvia.

A cleared throat drew her out of her thoughts, and she turned her gaze to one of the attendants sent with the plane.

"Sir. Ma'am." The attendant addressed the pair. "We will be landing in Fuyuki shortly. A car has already been prepared for you, as well as a hotel. I have also been informed by Lord El-Melloi II that you are both from Fuyuki. So on behalf of Lord Zelretch, Welcome home."


It should be fairly obvious that Reflection!Kiritsugu (that is, the Kiritsugu from Ritsuka and Gudao's 'verse) really really fucked Ritsuka up mentally. He was a heck of a lot more broken than the canon!Kiritsugu, and only really recognised what he did to her on his deathbed, hence his desperate "Please for the love of sanity don't follow in my footsteps" before he died.