Author's Note: Okay, so we lied. One more serious chapter, probably the heaviest in this story, to get some canon angst resolved.
Gilgamesh put the cup down on the little round table with a dissatisfied sigh. A single sip had dissolved the garish bird drawn in syrup on top of the foam, leaving nothing to distract from the cloying sweetness.
When she ordered the meek-faced boy at the counter to pour his best drink, she had expected mediocrity. She had indeed received it, and in just the form she expected from this era. Too much sugar, too much excess. What should have been a delicate flavoring was instead drowned out in a deluge of decrepit delightfulness.
Smoothing out her black dress, she rose from her seat and absently tossed down a handful of gold coins. Likely more than the drink itself was worth, judging from the little gasps of the surrounding serfs. They filled the nearby tables and loitered in the street outside the shop, stealing glances or, for the uncouth ones, openly staring. It was the natural devotion of the people for their king, felt in their bones even if their simple minds could not put words to it. Raising her head, she strode by them all and out into the street.
The gray concrete and roar of traffic had become both familiar and tedious. Gilgamesh found herself thinking wistfully of sandy avenues and spreading palms, lapis gates with murals to delight the eyes and inspire the soul. Everything here was dull, washed out in the pale colors of greed or—even worse—convenience.
Did she feel this way when she accompanied me around Uruk?
Even after Shamhat had coaxed out the beast, Enkidu had never made any secret of her discomfort around civilization. After the day's duties, she eagerly returned to Gilgamesh's gardens, her green tresses blending with the soft leaves and fragrant blossoms.
My friend. Gilgamesh sighed as she crossed the street, ignoring the blinking lights. Those were to direct the masses, not the king. Rubber screeched, then fell silent before her advance. You who always told me to be patient with them—what would you think of their works now?
Enkidu would have sought refuge in their parks and gardens. No doubt they were but a pale echo of Gilgamesh's own, but the King found she wanted to see them now. The longing for a smile long since lost to time guided her steps, until pavement gave way to an expanse of trees and brittle grass, bleached gray by winter.
Even under the pale afternoon sun, the park looked desolate. This was a haunted place, utterly silent but for the distant echoes of traffic. There were no signs of life, no scurrying in the underbrush or shivering of birds. Only a few human stragglers hurried along the gravel paths near the edges, heads down and collars drawn against a chill far deeper than simple frost. The faint aura of a Servant, as well. Gilgamesh walked on, noting idly that the clouds had grown darker and the sky more obscured.
She crinkled her nose as she passed further into the park. The air hung heavy with malice, permeating even the dead leaves crunching under her feet. As the shadows lengthened, ghost lights appeared between the skeletal limbs of winter trees. Their whispers of pain and regret carried on the wind.
Blight. This entire park is blighted. Gilgamesh scowled as she followed the reek of death. Why has it not been purified?
Drawing in a breath, she tasted smoke and ash, and something far more acrid underneath. A love of suffering, given life as calamity.
The taint is rooted deep enough to chain the living and the dead. She shook her head. My handmaiden is too young to tear out such corruption. Where are her elders?
A tang of magic brushed against her lips, and filled her nose with traces of desert sand, coffee, and spices. Far better than the disgusting miasma that had been coating her tongue.
Perhaps there may be competence found here yet.
Gilgamesh strode towards the melodious chanting that drifted from the heart of the tainted grounds. A woman cloaked in shimmering fabric knelt down in the middle of a field, the soft wind betraying the spirits that circled her hooded form. She was tracing lines in the dead grass, forming a complex ritual circle that glowed softly in the gloom. It was clear on sight that this woman was a cut above the masses Gilgamesh had been people-watching all day—even compared to her fellow Servants. She exuded the dignity of one who held the weight of a kingdom on her shoulders and did not bend under it—much unlike that Saber.
Gilgamesh smirked and drew closer. "It is good to see one who takes responsibility for their lessers in such an uncivilized age."
The chanting softened and, after a few moments more, stopped. The woman straightened and turned to face Gilgamesh. Her hood fell away to reveal brilliant green eyes in a dark face, framed by silky purple locks.
"I would not leave such a wound to fester," she said in a silver voice, "Not when I have the power to close it." She offered Gilgamesh a shining smile, as bright as the jewelry that ran between the pointed animal ears on her head. "Perhaps it was a similar instinct that brought you here?"
"I intended to beautify a spot of grime in my garden, nothing more." Gilgamesh nodded at the woman. "But it pleases me to see one who takes the initiative."
"The spirits here have suffered enough. I will send them to their rest." The woman's smile remained as she tilted her face up to the darkened sky. "And make sure none of our fellow guests trample the flowers, of course."
"A pretty sentiment," said Gilgamesh, though her sneer was more reflexive than pointed. "How unfortunate that one of them has already blazed her trail in flame."
The furred ears perked up. "I see. Then the Dragon Witch has indeed come to wreak havoc and roost."
Gilgamesh laughed. "The more the dog dirties herself, the more she must be washed. She will learn not to play in the mud in time."
The other's eyes briefly widened, then she raised a hand to cover a small laugh of her own. "Spoken just like a lioness prowling her kingdom."
Gilgamesh smiled and flicked blonde hair over her shoulder. "Jackals are hardly an inconvenience to the lioness." She waved a hand towards the distant sounds of the city. "I am more concerned with my herds."
The woman's ears twitched forward with interest. "Do they run amok too much for you?"
"They run like headless chickens towards their imminent demise." She sighed. "They reach for the stars while knee-deep in quicksand, so full of promise and poison in equal measure."
A spirit flew by and brushed against the other woman, and she gently caressed it. "And yet you still believe in that promise," she smiled. "Else you would not have answered the summons, or passed through the Third Gate."
"I do not deny it." She looked up into the darkened sky. "For I, too, was once as them."
"Then why have you come? Surely not to seek the Grail."
Gilgamesh frowned. "This is an impertinent line of questioning. To demand so much from your King is intolerable... but for your efforts I will grant you forgiveness."
Indigo ears flattened at the sides of the woman's head, but her smile remained. "How gracious, but my curiosity still gnaws."
She huffed in amusement. "The chalice is already mine by right. I shall claim it in due time." Her face grew solemn. "My purpose in answering the summons was to act as an arbiter for humanity. To intervene directly would only be coddling them. But I may yet offer them guidance, should they prove themselves worthy."
The woman's smile sharpened. "And you propose to judge the whole loaf from one narrow slice. A handful of individuals in one city, over two weeks."
"Don't be absurd, woman." Gilgamesh brushed aside the idea with the wave of a hand. "I have no plans to leave at the end of this petty conflict. The King's judgement will not be hastened."
"Hm-hmm. And how do you propose to maintain yourself without the Grail's power supplementing your Master?"
"Sifting the sand for information, I see. There is no need for riddles. Have I not already told you I shall indulge you?" She favored the woman with a smile. "My handmaiden is juvenile and unsophisticated, but her mana is adequate as an anchor... and she may yet grow with a firm hand."
The other Servant perked up. "Ah? So there is at least one human who has caught your eye."
Gilgamesh smirked. "Two. Saber's boy also interests me." In response to the other's questioning look, the King smiled and idly twined a lock of hair around a forefinger. "They reflect this era in their malformed ambitions. One with a dissonant distortion so pure it could only be human, and the other on a path of self-destruction for the sake of a dream that is not her own. If they can change themselves in my shadow, I shall yet give this humanity a stay."
"Humanity doesn't need your shadow to reach their potential." The woman's lips pressed in a stern line. "You call yourself their arbiter, o lioness, but you turn a blind eye to the wonders they have wrought. They did not need your gifts to walk upon the moon, or traverse the depths of the sea. They have travelled leagues not through divine power, but through their blood and sweat. What gives you the right to judge what you cannot understand?"
Gilgamesh threw her head back and roared with laughter. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so hard, not since Enkidu...
"We shall see," she said after a few moments, quelling the painful sting in her heart. "You would make for an excellent advisor. Pledge yourself to me, and I will find an anchor for you long after the Grail has returned to my vault."
Several emotions flashed in the brilliant viridian of the woman's eyes before she settled on a serene smile. "What an interesting offer. Yet, I am afraid I shall have to decline."
"Hmm." Gilgamesh searched her gaze and smirked. "To decline the King's benevolence... you must have a purpose indeed."
"On the contrary," smiled the other Servant. Her thumb rubbed along a small bronze ring on her little finger, easily overlooked among all her jewels. "I do not belong in this world. I will observe and enjoy it, then fade away in due course."
"Hoh?" Gilgamesh raised a golden eyebrow. "Then I shall return your question. Why did you answer the summons?"
"I wished to see the world humanity has forged for itself." The woman's smile became wistful, and for the first time it touched her eyes. "The world he so wanted to see."
"And what of the Master holding your leash?" Gilgamesh chuckled. "Will they be satisfied with that?"
"She's a smart girl," said the woman. "She doesn't understand, but she will in time."
Gilgamesh nodded, then felt a small tug on the line connecting her to her handmaiden.
Archer, we have a situation at the school. I'll fill you in when you get home.
She smirked and rolled her shoulders. "I must attend to my cub. You are on my territory, but I shall allow it so long as you clean up this mess. Do not tarry here afterwards."
"I have my own interests to follow up with after this," the woman said. "It was a pleasure to meet you... Archer."
Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps another time, I may say the same for you... Caster."
She looked up at the sky, its natural color bleeding back, and turned away. As she walked, she heard a whisper carried by the wind.
"I wonder if he would have liked it here."
"Then you simplify the expression..." Senpai scribbled on his workpaper. "And the answer falls out, just like that."
Sakura smiled gently. "You'd make a really good teacher, Senpai."
"That almost hurts, Sakura," he said with a grin. "I'm nowhere near as bad as Fuji-nee."
She giggled.
"How about you try this next one yourself?" he asked, handing her back her pencil. She stopped herself from hanging onto his hand.
"I'll give it my best," she said.
Smiling, he turned back to the homework he'd been neglecting for the last fifteen minutes for her sake. Guilt needled Sakura, even though she'd really tried before asking for help. She wanted to live up to his image of her, or at least the image she hoped he held.
Even if it's all a lie.
Forcing her eyes away from the damning red of the sigils on his hand, she found herself glancing at the end of the dining room table. Saber was reading an old book with an air of great concentration, as focused as any honor student. Sakura had tried to sneak a glance at the title earlier, but she couldn't make out the ornate English script.
Turning her gaze to the kitchen, she noted with some faint nostalgia that Neesan had pulled up her sleeves and was rolling dough, hair set in a ponytail. As soon as they returned home, she had insisted the two of them do their homework while she took care of dinner.
("You're my guests!" she said with a confidence she had lacked in the morning. "Just relax and leave everything to me.")
That nostalgia was near-uncomfortable to Sakura, because she knew this couldn't last. She could feel the illusion threatening to shatter all around her at any moment. And yet... she couldn't help herself. It was so easy to forget about the Grail, the War, and all the pain that awaited her back home...
She felt a squirming in her chest that wasn't hers.
But none of them will forget about you.
A chill ran down her spine. Then Senpai smiled at her, and she could breathe again.
"Just give it a try," he said, motioning with his pen to her worksheet. "I know you can do it."
Sakura felt her face flush, but she nodded. When she took pencil to paper and started to work on another problem, she found that the numbers and symbols finally made sense in the amber glow of his gaze.
"You got it!" he said encouragingly. For once, the little jump in her heart was a welcome one.
She'd barely started on the next problem when the doorbell rang.
Saber looked up sharply from her book. "Were you expecting someone, Lady Tohsaka?"
"I already told you, Saber," said Neesan with her idol's smile, the one that made the distance between them seem even wider. "Call me Rin, please. We're friends, right?"
They both glanced at Shirou with expressions of subtle dissatisfaction. He responded with a puzzled smile.
"But no," said Neesan after a moment, "I wasn't—"
The doorbell rang again, twice and then three times in quick succession. Whoever was on the other side did not like being kept waiting.
Neesan scowled and wiped her hands on a towel. "If the fake priest came in person, I swear I'm gonna..."
Her footsteps echoed in the front hallway. Sakura's hand tightened on her pencil before she forced herself to relax.
It's okay. It's still daylight for a little while. Just because the War started, doesn't mean everything is a threat.
Then the illusion fell apart at the sound of a familiar voice.
"Why hello, Rin-chan," said Shinji, and Sakura could just picture him leaning on the doorframe. "Lovely evening, isn't it?"
"It was until you showed up at my door," said Neesan, not bothering to mask her loathing. "What do you want?"
"Don't be like that," he coaxed. "Can't a guy visit his fellow student?"
"Not this close to nightfall, on a day like this." There was a hard edge to Neesan's voice, and the sound of a door creaking closed. "Now if there's nothing else, kindly get lost."
"Still in denial, are we?" he said, dripping that smugness Niisan always took on when he was feeling out of his depth. "Lucky for you I'm a patient guy. In the meantime, where's my sister?"
"Studying," huffed Neesan. "I'll walk her home once we're done."
Home. To others that might have meant comfort. Sakura thought of green darkness and suppressed a shudder.
"What kind of man would I be if I let two beautiful girls out alone at night?" said Niisan. "Why don't I come in and see if I can help out?"
"That's really not necessary. Good night, Matou."
"But it is necessary, Rin-chan," said Shinji, his voice lowering to a sly tone. "You wouldn't want me thinking you're holding a hostage, would you?"
Blood pounded in Sakura's ears. She anxiously looked up at Senpai, and her heart caught when she saw the furrow of his brows.
Oh please, don't say anything more about the War. Please... I want this to last just a little longer...
"Fine!" snapped her sister, before calling out, "Hey, Sakura! Your idiot brother is here. Please come show him I haven't eaten you."
The things in the dark haven't forgotten you. And now Niisan had come to take her back to them.
She should have gotten up. The longer she made him wait, the worse it would be. Yet her feet remained rooted to the ground, her hands clenched in her lap. She wanted to stay warm a little longer.
"Sakura?" She looked up to find Senpai looking at her with concern. He spoke quietly. "Do you want me to come with you?"
He's so kind it's painful.
"That's okay." Her mouth formed the words from habit, even as her mind wanted to grab his hand and never let go. "I'll just explain to Niisan."
Senpai rose from his seat and offered his hand. "Let's go talk to Shinji."
Guilt washed over her, but she was glad, so glad. Enough to slip her fingers shyly into his.
As soon as Sakura crossed into the hallway, Neesan turned triumphantly to Shinji. "There. She's free to come and go as she pleases."
Shinji opened his mouth to say something when he spotted Senpai following behind Sakura. His eyes snapped to their joined hands and his face went pale. She flinched when she recognized it as rage.
"Sakura!" he yelled. His anger had stripped away his usual facade of the indulgent older brother. "What are you doing, hanging out with him?"
She could feel Senpai's hand jerk in her grasp, then tighten to the point of pain. But it was nothing compared to the fear lancing through her.
"Niisan, please. I can explain—"
He crossed the entrance, raising his hand. Neesan's outraged shout rang in Sakura's ears as her shoulders instinctively drew in, already aching with the expected blow.
But it never came. Her head snapped up to find Senpai in front of her, his arms spread protectively. Sakura spotted Neesan by the entrance lifting her arm, a ball of black energy on the end of her finger.
"What the hell's wrong with you, Shinji?!" shouted Senpai.
The thud of knuckle on flesh pulled an unbidden cry from her. Senpai reeled and clapped a hand to his cheek.
"You—!" Shinji started, drawing his fist back for another blow—she couldn't tell if it was aimed at her or Senpai. She tensed, about to throw herself in front when a blur of silver cut between them.
Saber grabbed Shinji's wrist and forced it down so roughly that Sakura heard a small crack. He howled in pain.
"You dare to raise a hand not only to my Master, but to your flesh and blood?" Saber growled, her tone like cold steel. "Begone. If you lay a finger on anyone in this household again, I will gut you like a hare."
She held on a moment longer against Shinji's frantic efforts to free himself, then abruptly released him. He staggered back against the wall, whimpering. For a moment, Sakura let herself hope that would be the end of it.
Then Shinji got to his feet, cradling his bruised hand. "Rider!" he shrieked through clenched teeth. Sakura wrapped her arms around herself as the shadows coalesced into her Servant—no, his. She'd lost that right when she gave her seals up. "Take that bitch down, and teach Emiya a lesson!"
Several things happened at once, so fast it set Sakura's head spinning. Neesan's magic bullet shot straight towards Shinji. Rider deflected it on her dagger and rushed at Senpai. Before the chain made contact, Saber moved between them and caught it on her wrist. Senpai gave a sharp inhale of breath at her side, staring in shock at Rider's masked face just a few feet away.
Rider let go of her chain and crouched by Shinji's side once more. Saber threw the chain aside, her radiant hair a banner in the fading daylight.
"I advise that we retreat, Master," Rider spoke softly, her unseen eyes on Sakura.
"Don't be a coward!" Shinji's hands balled in fury. "I won't have him laughing at me!"
"There are two enemy Masters," said Rider patiently, "and we do not know where the other Servant is. If you go any further, you will endanger us both."
Shinji's entire frame trembled with frustration, and Sakura instinctively braced herself. Then he abruptly turned and stalked out, blind to the spell charging on the tip of Neesan's finger. Her outstretched arm swept to follow him out.
"Fine!" Shinji snapped, shoving his hand in his pockets. She could see the dim outline of the book. "But he can't help you like I can! You'll come crawling back soon enough, you slut."
"Gandr!"
A barrage of black shots streaked towards Shinji's back. Rider grabbed him around the waist and hurled them both to the side before they could impact. Her hair ruffled in the force of the spell. Then she slung the boy over her shoulder and sped away.
"Come on, Saber!" snarled Neesan, holding a ruby threateningly between her fingers. "Don't let that piece of shit get away!"
A hand clenched around Sakura's heart. In that moment, she remembered the boy that had welcomed her to the Matou mansion before everything went wrong.
"Stop it, Neesan!" she screamed, and everyone else froze. "That's enough... please..."
A heavy silence hung in the air. She clutched her arms to herself, trying not to tremble. A rock settled in her stomach.
"Sakura...?" Senpai said quietly. She couldn't even look him in the eye, but she could feel him take a step closer to her. She wanted to run away, she wanted the earth to swallow her whole—
—please, I want to go back, I want to dream a little longer, please don't let them hate me—
A large, calloused hand enveloped hers, and she almost jerked away. Senpai caught her gaze and his warm eyes stole her breath away.
—please please please—
"Hey," he said with a shaky smile, interlacing his fingers between her own. "Let's go back. I... I think I've got an easier way to help you with that problem you were stuck on."
The door closed with a soft click. "I'll make some hot cocoa," said Neesan gently. "With peppermint."
She started walking past them towards the kitchen, then paused to look at Sakura. Words seem to fail her, but for the first time in a decade, Neesan's crystal blue eyes were focused on her. Not a passing glance, but really looking at her.
Sakura took a small breath, and the moment was over. Neesan walked into the kitchen. A faint image drew out of the fog of her memory—sitting on the couch at Christmas beside her sister, a crackling fireplace illuminating their family, and the smell of chocolate and peppermint.
She remembered...?
"Come on." Senpai tugged gently at her hand, his smile growing more relaxed. "You've got a lot of math to get through."
She nodded, hesitantly smiling at him.
Mercifully, the dream continued. Sakura found herself back in her warm spot at the dining room table, but now Senpai had moved chairs so he was sitting next to her instead of across. Right next to her, their shoulders almost brushing as he pointed out the next formula. Pushing away the drumming of her heart, Sakura let herself drift away on his voice.
Even if she would have to go home eventually—even if the dream would curdle to nightmare—she wanted to bask in it. A small ray of sun that she could carry away with her.
Saber looked up from Senpai's old seat across the table, where she'd resettled herself. Sakura followed her gaze and found Neesan coming over with a tray of steaming mugs and a plate of cookies.
She placed the tray on the table and set the first mug in front of Sakura. "It's been a while. Let me know if it's too sweet and I'll make you another."
"T-thank you..." Sakura hesitated on the word momentarily. "...Neesan."
Her sister looked conflicted for a moment before smiling. "Welcome home, Sakura."
And now Sakura was sure this had to be a dream, perhaps the most wonderful of her life. Only in her dreams would she ever hear those words she had so longed for, or feel Senpai's warm fingers clasped in hers. A ball of warmth (and a little bit of pain) flickered in her chest.
Oh… this is what happiness feels like.
She had almost forgotten.
For the first half hour, she kept waiting for Senpai to question her. His eyes were full of curiosity, and several times she saw him glance between her and the kitchen. Each time, she braced herself for the inevitable questions. Each time, he only pointed out the next problem and asked what she thought.
Dinner came, dumplings and sticky rice. Still the dream continued, as they dug in and chattered and even laughed. Small jokes about nothing and everything, and even Saber gave a little serene smile. A night at peace.
Then back to the table, as Neesan coerced the blonde into helping her with the dishes. Sakura's work was done, giving her the opportunity to simply enjoy Senpai's company as he finished his own. When he'd called her last night to tell her the Emiya house had burnt to the ground, her heart had stopped. Then to hear he was staying with her estranged sister, her perfect sister… Sakura had thought her life—no, the only bit of sun in her life—was stolen.
Never would she have imagined sitting here together with them. And if she wasn't entirely satisfied, and she still had so many fears and Grandfather—
—no, I don't want to think about that—
That was okay.
At some point, Neesan and Saber joined them with a deck of cards, and that was even better. Senpai had a terrible poker face, something they all made fun of, but he took it in good humor. Neesan was as competitive as ever, and surprisingly so was Saber. Her dissatisfied huffs whenever she lost a round to her rival set her rebel hair twitching in a way that made Sakura giggle.
Then Saber abruptly stiffened in her chair.
"Oh, so you finally deign to join us," Neesan called out, turning towards the door. "Where the hell have you been, Archer?"
The most beautiful woman she'd ever seen in her life walked through the door, shining so brightly that Sakura felt a few inches smaller just looking at her. Her stride was nothing if not confident, and her grin promised the world.
"Tending to my garden," said Archer, leaning against the doorframe. "I require a cup of coffee, as your era's offerings are most lacking."
"Excuse me, who exactly is the Master here?" Neesan frowned. Archer lifted one elegant eyebrow.
"A King answers to no one," she said. "Do not think those markings on your hand change the natural order. Now, one coffee—with little sugar or milk."
"I can take care of it, Tohsaka," Senpai said with a placating gesture, rising from his seat. Archer's gaze turned to him, and then her eyes met Sakura's. Beautiful as rubies and just as cold. Sakura shivered under those eyes.
"Why have you brought this vermin into my residence?" Archer asked, and Sakura froze.
Neesan whirled around on Archer, jabbing a finger at her Servant. "Don't you dare talk about my sister that way!" she hissed.
"I do not care about the vessel." Archer looked to Neesan again. "It is the infestation she carries that disgusts me."
No. No no no no. Please no.
"What are you talking about?" Senpai asked, his brows furrowed and his frown deepening.
Not this. I'm begging you, not this. Please.
"Truly, are you so blind as to have missed what her body hosts?" Archer finally got off the doorframe. "You have much to learn."
Neesan made some angry rejoinder, but Sakura couldn't hear it. She couldn't hear anything but the panic pounding in her ears, and the silent scream in her throat.
This is it, then. I knew it couldn't last, it was too good to be true. I don't deserve this, I never did. I should have gone with Shinji.
A roar of voices filled the room, her sister's horrified gasps and Senpai's outraged shouts. Above all the golden voice, calling out Sakura's sentence with terrible finality.
This is it. Senpai will see how dirty I am, how tainted. Neesan will disavow me, abandon me again… just like father and mother did. Maybe Archer finds me so disgusting that she'll cut me down. I hope it doesn't hurt. I'm tired of hurting.
Her fingernails dug deeper into her arms, but she could hardly feel it. Even as they turned red, all she could feel was—
"Please, I'm begging you! Save her!"
Sakura's head snapped up to find Neesan on the floor in seiza before Archer.
What...?
"Even now, you continue to make demands of your King," Archer said, her arms crossed. "I grow tired of entertaining you."
"I'll do anything," Neesan emphasized. "Please... just save Sakura."
Only then did Sakura notice Senpai hovering in front of her, shielding her from Archer. He had not moved from her side an inch.
Why...? Why are they doing this...?
"Rin..." Saber said quietly. She had donned full plate armor, and her hands were gripped around an invisible hilt.
The shattered fragments of the dream drifted in the wind.
"Now you understand your place," Archer said with a smirk. "While I have little charity for mongrels, a vassal may petition me for aid." She reached down to pat Neesan on the head, and then her hand came down to cup Neesan's chin and push her gaze back up. "Pledge yourself to me. Swear fealty to your King, and I will grant this boon as a gift for entering my service."
Neesan seemed to hesitate for just a moment longer before her eyes flicked back over to Sakura. Her crystal blue gaze was filled with fear and already-shed tears, but as soon as Sakura caught it, it filled with resolve. She looked back up to her Servant again.
"Okay," Neesan said quietly. "I... I'll do it."
Archer's grin widened, and her hand remained outstretched as she stood up. The movement drew Sakura's eye to the crimson tattoo around her finger, looking for all the world like a jagged ring.
The implication was clear. Neesan set her jaw and leaned down to kiss it. The silence grew deeper, even after she stopped.
"I want to help." Senpai broke the silence. "I don't want Sakura to hurt ever again."
Archer's smirk turned to him. She seemed to be searching for something in him for a few moments.
"Yes, I think you'll do just fine," she said. Senpai started to kneel, but Archer merely turned away and walked to the stairs.
Saber started after her. "Archer, halt! Where are you going? Did you not just make a bargain?"
"I did," said Archer, not even sparing a glance over her shoulder. "And I shall fulfill it, if you will stop your yelping and follow."
"You—!" growled Saber through gritted teeth. Then she looked at Sakura and heaved a sigh. "...as much as it pains me, it would appear there is no other choice."
Sakura snuffed out the hope that was trying to bloom. Someone else had once promised to save her, long, long ago. Even with the power of a Servant at his side, he failed and died. Why would this time be any different?
Saber went first, taking the stairs with long steps. Neesan followed, shoulders straight, though her hands rubbed at her eyes. Sakura began to follow after, then paused at the foot of the staircase.
Is it even worth trying? It's just going to hurt no matter what...
A warmth came before her, and she looked up into Senpai's gentle expression.
"You... don't have to do this," he said quietly. "I... I can't imagine... what you've been through, and all I want is to help you right now. But... I'm sure we can find another way. And no matter what... I'll be there."
Her heart thudded. Was she really being offered a choice? It didn't seem possible. Grandfather spoke, and she endured. Obedient flesh was all that was required of her. But now...
She locked eyes with him.
Can I really...?
Senpai was just a teenage boy, in vastly over his head. He couldn't promise her anything, not with all the horrors that lurked under the moonlight. He couldn't protect her.
But the compassion in his eyes, in the crook of his smile, made her reach for him anyway.
I want to believe.
"Okay," she said, and gave him a tentative smile back. "I... I can do this. Thank you."
"Of course," he said, his smile growing. She took his offered hand and pulled him along, and they ascended the stairs together.
Then they stopped when they found Neesan and Saber peering into the bathroom.
"You cannot be serious," scowled Saber.
"Indeed," agreed Archer from inside. "This is much too filthy to perform adequately."
Neesan crossed her arms. "I'll have you know this bathroom gets cleaned twice a week. It's practically spotless!"
"You have a long way to go to fulfill your roles as a handmaiden, it seems." Neesan sputtered as Archer sighed. "Once more, the King must take responsibility for the deficiencies of her subjects. Now attend, all of you, before my patience runs thin."
Neesan mumbled some choice swears angrily but entered along with Saber. Sakura took a hesitant step in. The bathroom felt faintly familiar, particularly the claw-footed bathtub. She caught sight of her nervous expression in the long mirror and felt an impulse to curl away—disgusting, hideous. Senpai gave her hand a small squeeze and the impulse faded.
A clunk of pipes filling echoed as Archer turned the bathtub on.
"When are you going to explain yourself, Archer?" Saber asked, suspicion written all over her.
"A King need not explain herself to her subjects," Archer replied easily, holding a hand out beside her. A golden portal opened up, out of which dropped a single silver pearl. "Behold."
Saber fumed as Archer let the pearl drop into the slowly filling bathtub. Great clouds of steam billowed from the water, rapidly filling the room. Sakura quickly found herself encased in white puffs, breathing in a soothing scent of ocean breezes. As pleasant as it felt, she might still have felt fearful if not for the reassuring weight of Senpai's hand in her own.
Then the steam fell away, and Sakura gaped in wonder. A great bath stretched before her, large enough to drown her entire classroom and more. Little wisps of fragrant steam drifted from the water, practically inviting her to slip inside and rest on the marble-and-lapis tiles. Pillars carved into prancing lions held up a vaulted ceiling decorated in murals of deities and sea creatures.
She was still looking around when Archer strode forward. The Servant's hand brushed through her long golden tresses, and to Sakura's astonishment, her clothes vanished. Sakura eeped as she took in the alabaster curves of the woman's back, all flawless skin and toned muscles. She moved with the sinuous grace of a lioness, confidence and controlled power in every step.
Don't stare. It's rude to stare. Stop it.
But Sakura couldn't help herself—however hot her cheeks, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the golden beauty of the woman. Archer's perfect form was carved from the finest ivory, with bold red lines painted to accentuate every cord of muscle, the sculpted legs...
Archer slipped waist-deep into the water with a pleased sigh, then turned around. The heat added an inviting flush to her perfect breasts, her high cheekbones and full lips—
"Well?" demanded the golden Servant. "Do you truly wish to save the girl, or does my splendor enchant you too much?"
"W-wait a minute!" Neesan stuttered, her face flushed completely red. "Y-you can't just... just..."
"Oh?" Archer purred. "What is it I can't do, Master?"
"Cease this debauchery," Saber said with a frown. It may have been a trick of the light, or simply that she was in full armor, but Sakura swore that there was a faint dusting of pink on the other Servant's cheeks. "We are seeking a cure, not an orgy."
Sakura felt her face combust in embarrassment and a flicker of something she wasn't sure she wanted to name. She glanced at Senpai, wondering (hoping) if he was feeling it too. His mouth was hanging open, his eyes fixed on Archer. Her spine prickled unpleasantly, even as heat flared low in her belly.
"Y-yeah!" Neesan added, ripping her eyes off the Servant. "You're supposed to be helping Sakura! This isn't the time for..." Her gaze drifted back. "...for that," she finished lamely.
"This is not simply an exercise in frivolity, little mage," Archer said, running a hand through the water. "But, if you wish to spurn this gift, then your sister may leave. You are still required to perform your duties, however."
Sakura tentatively moved towards the bath. "If there's any chance… if it really might…"
I want to believe.
Metal clanked as Saber went to Senpai's other side. "I will observe and ensure she is true to her word, Lady Sakura."
The sound seemed to snap Senpai out of his daze. "W-what the hell is going on!?" he yelled suddenly.
Archer cocked a hand on her hip under the water. "You wish the girl healed? Then follow the lead of your King."
Neesan kneeled by the side of the water and dipped a hand in. "It... might make sense," she said hesitantly. "This water is thick with mana, almost enough to be poisonous. But... it isn't. Archer, what is this?"
"A purifying solution," Archer replied. "It is intended to cleanse life of its most severe curses, falling just short of bringing back the dead."
"That's impossible," murmured Neesan, letting the water trickle through her fingers. "...for modern magi. But for the Age of Gods…" She paused for a few breaths, seemingly deep in thought, then stared up at the ceiling. "Sakura, you should get in."
Sakura took a deep breath and another step forward—
"Not like that," sniffed Archer. "Is this era so degenerate that you do not know to disrobe before you bathe?"
Sakura froze, her face a flaming wreck. "N-naked?" she squeaked. "In f-front of Senpai?"
The named boy dropped her hand and made a noise like a strangled horse. Neesan reddened a little but kept a straight face.
"I-is that really okay?" stammered Senpai, staring at his hands and their compulsively curling fingers. "I'm, uh, a guy."
"Yes, Emiya, we all noticed," said Neesan impatiently, in what Sakura recognized as cover for her embarrassment. It came as a bit of relief that even her unflappable sister was out of her depth here.
Then she glanced towards Senpai, and noticed the swell in his pants. Sakura blushed harder than ever, but couldn't look away. She had fantasized about that particular part of his anatomy so many times.
"I-I can't help it!" protested Senpai, his hands instinctively moving to cover his arousal.
"That's not what I meant!" sputtered Neesan, her own blush intensifying. "You—argh!" Her gaze moved away, rested on Archer for a few moments, before wrenching back to the ceiling. "Never mind. Just stand with your back to the pool, and don't you dare—"
"Not quite," interrupted Archer with an amused smirk. "He will be bathing the girl."
A shocked silence descended over all three teens.
Senpai… washing me? Sakura swallowed hard. One of her most cherished dreams, relived countless times in stolen moments touching herself. Yet now that it was within grasp, real, it scared her. A torrent of emotions cascaded over her. She wanted to scream and laugh in delight, to disappear and throw her arms around his neck and never let go.
She wanted—needed—Senpai's hands on her.
Then she stole a look at him, and saw his pale face and troubled expression. It made her question if he wanted to. Just because he had been kind to her, it didn't mean he saw her that way—especially after her shame had been dragged into the light.
And he'd given her a choice, when he held his hand out to her on the staircase. Even if this was only a dream, she wanted to give him the same respect.
"You don't have to if you don't want to, Senpai," she murmured, wringing her hands. "It's okay—"
A loud smack echoed in the chamber. His cheek was red where he'd slapped himself.
"Senpai!"
"No," he growled. "No, it isn't. Not after what they did to you. I... I don't want to hurt you like you've already been hurt."
He looked up at her, and for the first time, she saw fear in his eyes.
Her heart fluttered. If it hadn't already belonged to him, she would have given it to him all over again in that moment.
"It's okay if it's you," she said, and picked up his hand. He let her, the tension slowly draining from his grip. "It's more than okay. I've…" she felt like hiding under her bangs, but forced herself to look him in the eye. "I've wanted you to… for a long time."
"Sakura..." he said quietly. She gripped his hand tighter, and his gaze filled with determination. "I… I said I was going to be there for you, Sakura. And… it's not like I don't want to." He coughed and looked away, then shyly back at her. "If you're sure…"
"I have never seen such awkward courting outside of my handmaiden's romance dramas," Archer said, her voice tinged with amusement. "Get on with it already."
"Hold it!" Neesan near-shrieked, whirling towards Archer. "Did you look under my mattress!?"
Sakura managed a small giggle, and Senpai matched it with a smile. His eyes... she needed them on her. "Then... please watch me, Senpai."
Ignoring the frantic tempo of her heart, she reached up and pulled loose the ribbon of her blouse. Then she let it slip to the floor, followed by her skirt, shivering under Senpai's intense stare. Even in this situation, a small trill of triumph rose when she saw the red in his cheeks, and the darkening shade of his eyes.
"You as well, boy," said Archer with a lazy wave.
"U-uh, right," he stuttered, and pulled off his shirt roughly. His chest was defined—not grotesquely so, but more than enough to grab her... attention. Sakura openly admired while he shed his pants and awkwardly kicked them away. He put his hands by his sides, rolling his fingers again, his hardness clearly on display through his boxers.
Her fingers itched with desire to reach in and stroke it.
"Come on, get on with it," Archer repeated, and Saber made a shushing noise. "Do you want to be here all night?"
"Yes," Sakura murmured before she could stop herself. Senpai's blush intensified, hers following in quick succession.
Neesan made a choked noise that vaguely sounded like the words 'underwear' and 'get in'. Sakura blinked as she remembered what they were doing. From the look on Senpai's face, she was going to have to lead the way again. Not that it helped calm the pounding of her heart. She reminded herself that this was a dream, and that made it easier.
She tugged on his arm. "Let's go, Senpai," she smiled. She was tempted to turn towards the water as she reached behind to unclasp her bra, but resisted the impulse. That might make him worry again, and she really didn't want to wait any longer.
The bra fell away. Senpai's eyes widened a fraction more. It might have been funny if she wasn't feeling it too. Then her nerve broke, and she turned away as she tugged off her panties. She could sense his gaze on her back as she slipped into the water.
The water was warm—almost hot enough to be uncomfortable. She could feel the grime lifting at its touch. Not just on her skin but deep in her soul, washing away all the impurities. A sigh of relief escaped her.
With a few small splashes, she heard Senpai enter behind her. Her eyes widened as Archer moved closer, her presence alone making Sakura bow her head. Her gaze caught on the droplets tracing the dip of the Servant's navel, and her mouth went dry.
"Here," Archer said. She held out a small bar of soap, and Senpai reached over her shoulder to take it. "This will serve your purposes well."
"T-thank you," Senpai stuttered. Sakura took a deep breath and turned around. He was closer than she was ready for, but she found she didn't mind.
Senpai seemed to hesitate, then glanced at the marble ledge under the water. "Let's, uh, sit down. That might make things a bit… easier."
Sakura giggled in understanding. She was feeling a little weak in the knees too.
He settled on the edge of the bath and patted invitingly beside him. She almost followed, then reminded herself this was a dream. Might as well take full advantage of it.
Before she could second-guess herself, she settled herself in his lap, her back pressed into his chest. His breath hitched as she tugged his arms around her waist. She could feel his hardness poking against her, but it wasn't threatening as she had feared it might be. Instead, it felt good there, like it was right.
"Um..." he started, then took a deep breath and pulled her closer. "Let me know... if this is too much. If anything is too much."
"The same for you," Sakura said quietly, but nestled further against him. She watched as he gingerly worked the soap into a lather, then inhaled sharply to steady himself.
Then his palms settled on her stomach, softer than his calloused fingertips, and she found herself gasping. A tingly feeling spread out from his touch, like the spray of a waterfall but so much warmer. The subtle gnawing of the worms that always hovered just beneath her conscious thoughts slowly receded before it.
"Ah! That feels…" she sighed, leaning back into him.
His breath caught and his hand froze on her. She almost whined in protest before he tentatively caressed her, moving his splayed fingers up wet skin to spread the lather. Gently he scrubbed and massaged every inch of her, slowing as he moved closer to her breasts. A little gasp slipped from her as his fingers brushed the underside.
He paused. "Sorry, is this okay?"
"Keep going," she replied with a nod.
She gave another sharp inhale as his hands glided up to palm her breasts. His touch felt amazing where his fingers brushed against her sensitive points. He stilled, and she sensed he was about to ask her again if she was alright. A nice sentiment, if not for the fire licking up her thighs.
Before his doubts could snare him, she reached up to settle her hands on top of his. She guided him to cup her breasts more firmly, bending his fingers to knead the sensitive flesh.
"You don't... mm... have to keep asking, Senpai," she said through her soft moans. "I'll let you know if it's too much."
"Promise?" he whispered against her neck, sending goosebumps up and down her skin.
"Always."
Emboldened, Senpai put more vigor into his movements, cupping her breasts fully as he let himself explore her body. The soap worked further into her skin with each caress, soaking warmth and light into her. It felt like the sun dripping into her, melting all the hurt and darkness away.
A sudden pain flared in her chest. She gasped, spots of black dancing in her vision, and she would have fallen but for Senpai's arms around her. After a moment, the hurt faded away.
"Sakura…? If it's too much, I—"
She spun in his grasp, sliding easily on his wet thighs. She caught his face and pulled him down into a kiss. His mouth tasted faintly of iron and fire, nothing like the sweetness she had fantasized about—and that made it all the better.
"S-Sakura?" he said through panting breaths when they finally pulled away again, a thin strand of saliva still connecting their trembling lips. She blushed as she realized how aggressive she had just been, and she hid her face in his chest.
"I... I want more..." she said quietly, finally managing to meet his amber gaze. "Senpai, I'm not made of glass. You... you can be a little more rough."
He took a second to catch his breath without breaking her gaze. "Alright," he finally said. "But, um... can you..."
She smiled and turned around again, noting his groan as she grinded against his hardness.
I did that. Her cheeks were a furious red. I can't believe it.
She didn't regret it one bit.
His hands were moving on her again, lathering the soap into her collarbone then up to the delicate arch of her throat. Without the light haze of pain, every sense felt alive with nuance.
So this is how Senpai's hand actually feels… it's rough, and warm. So much warmth.
For the first time in her life, this delight—this pleasure—was hers and hers alone. She couldn't help but moan as his hands massaged her neck and shoulders. She could feel every crease and callus on his fingers, releasing tension everywhere they touched. It was pure bliss.
I hope this dream never ends.
Then his fingers skimmed back down, tracing her sides before coming to rest on her hips. Instinctively she rocked back into him with a delighted little moan.
"Senpai..." she whispered, tilting her head back. "Please... please don't stop."
He leaned down and gently nipped at her neck, eliciting a mewl. Then his lips brushed over the love bite to remove the sting. They felt like fire, setting her nerves ablaze, heaven unfolding beneath her skin.
Distracted by sensation, she didn't notice his questing fingers until they brushed against her inner thighs. She trembled as a wave of pleasure coursed through her.
"Sakura..." he whispered in her ear. His name on her lips was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard. "Is it okay if I... go inside?"
She could have died of happiness at that moment. Instead she took his hand and guided it between her folds. His fingers were rougher than her own, rubbing deliciously on her sensitive flesh.
Senpai took a deep breath and thrust his fingers inside her. Pleasure burned in her veins as her walls clamped greedily around them, drawing them deeper into her core. She freely voiced her gasps and moans, shamelessly bucking into his hand.
"More..." she moaned. "Ah… Senpai!"
His movements were a bit awkward as his fingers explored her, tentatively searching for her most sensitive spots. A stray brush of fingers hit a rough patch at the top of her walls which made her squeak and curl her toes.
"Yes! Right there!"
Senpai gave a little murmur of assent, and redoubled his efforts. His fingers sped up, the pressure building as he continued to brush against the spot. Sakura's thumb moved of its own volition to circle her clit, pulling shuddering moans out of her. Her other hand clung to his forearm, and she couldn't help but rake her nails as her breaths grew shorter and harsher.
"Sakura..."
The reverence in his voice, the way he said her name—
Stars exploded in her vision. White-hot pleasure crashed over her, drowning out everything in a wave of ecstasy. More tremors ran through her until she was left in a warm afterglow. Distantly, she felt his arms tighten around her, and she sighed and melted into him. As if through cotton gauze, she felt him resettle her more comfortably on his lap. She felt exhausted and yet... renewed, connected. She drifted on the sensation until the warm water lulled her to sleep.
I hope I never wake up from this.
The first thing Sakura noticed was the red-and-black canopy of a bed she hadn't slept in for ten years.
She remembered falling asleep beneath this ceiling every night, counting glow-in-the-dark stars with her mother and listening to bedtime stories about knights and dragons and queens in towers. Sunlight softly streamed in from the window, illuminating a bookcase filled with picture frames of a childhood long since torn from her. She turned her head to the sound of birdsong outside her window.
Is... is this real?
She shook her head. It couldn't be—she wasn't allowed to be this happy. Every hope, every spark of this she'd tried to hold onto had been relentlessly crushed in that place.
Cringing, she burrowed her head in the pillow, expecting it to disappear at any moment. Yet as the minutes passed, it remained fluffy beneath her. The sunlight stretched on, shortening the shadows and brightening the room.
She experimentally bit her lip, and a little sting flared. The old priest said nothing hurt in Heaven.
Which means…
A complicated tangle of emotions welled up in her chest, but most of all a simple joy. Joy and a vast sense of relief, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders and she could breathe anew. Her body felt lighter than it had in years.
There was a knock at the door.
"Sakura?" Neesan's voice called. "Are you awake?"
She hesitated for a heartbeat, all her buried resentments telling her to send Rin away. However wonderful last night may have been, it didn't wash away years of grudges. Then she thought of Neesan walking away, and her heart caught. She had wanted this for so long, wanted her sister to look at her, speak to her and sit with her. Sakura had been robbed of it long enough.
"I'm up," she said, surprised at how easily it came now that she had decided. "Please come in."
The door slowly opened. Neesan walked in with a covered tray that smelled wonderful. She placed it on the bedside table and gave a satisfied nod.
"I smuggled you up some breakfast," she said proudly. "Archer's got Emiya cooking up so many dishes she'll never notice a bit skimmed off the side. Here." She lifted the tray with the flourish of a stage magician. "Grilled salmon on rice, with pickled plum."
The smile was a little too bright, and Sakura understood Neesan was trying her best to cheer her up. She giggled.
"You don't have to try so hard, Neesan," she said with a smile.
Neesan blushed, then hurriedly crossed her arms. "You're right. You're not a guest anymore, after all. This is your home too."
A warmth blossomed in Sakura's chest. She'd never thought she could ever come back to this house—for so long she wasn't sure she wanted to. And yet, hearing Neesan say it... it really did feel like home again.
"Thank you," she murmured, then looked down at her nightdress. She pushed away the thought of who might have dressed her last night. Right now, she wanted to clean herself up so she could go downstairs, thank Archer and greet Senpai (even if the thought made her cheeks flush).
Her blush was mirrored in Neesan's own face. Right, she saw everything last night… Sakura grew redder still. Somehow it didn't bother her as much as she thought it would.
"Ah, about last night..." she started tentatively, twisting the sheets in her grip.
Neesan hastily threw up her hands. "Don't worry! I-I didn't see much. I was, ah… a little busy." If Sakura's face was a fire, then her sister's was a volcano. "A-and if I had seen anything—which I totally didn't—it, um... it was beau—"
She shut her mouth with a snap and took a sudden interest in the brushes laid out on the vanity. "A-anyway!" she coughed. "You may want to use the downstairs restroom. Archer seems to have performed an... abrupt renovation. That... insufferable..."
Sakura openly laughed at Neesan's angry expression, and her sister softened at the sound.
"I need to get back downstairs before she does God-knows-what to my kitchen," Neesan said as she headed for the door, then paused at the threshold. She glanced over her shoulder, her blue eyes catching Sakura's own. "And... Sakura? It's... good to have you home again."
Sakura's chest tightened almost to the point of pain, but unlike so many times before, it was a good pain. She smiled back at her sister.
"Thank you... Neesan."