Chapter 2 – "Copping A Heaven's Feel"
Illya looked down, studying the blue lines of Shiro's shirt. She'd bought several new changes of clothes since everything had happened, but she still continued to stubbornly wear the top Shiro had leant her – much to Saber's annoyance.
"Oh come on, you've had those things for two weeks already – you have to be used to them by now!"
Apparently Saber wasn't the only one who was irritated. Turning, she regarded Tohsaka's outburst.
Rin could perhaps be forgiven. She had been the one who'd taken Illya shopping, and they'd visited six different stores, with Illya always making a beeline for the tops or blouses with the most flattering bust line, which she herself could only dream of wearing.
"Ugh – so expensive", Illya had groaned, looking at the price of a brassiere.
If there was one down side to her recent growth spurt, it was that she found that as one's bust size went up, the price of undergarments seemed to go up exponentially, while the range of available styles and patterns seemed to decrease with an inverse proportionality.
"Well, there you have it, Miss Illyasviel", Rin said smugly. "If there's one thing we can count on, it's that whatever your age or body type, it is undeniably expensive to be a girl."
"Can't they at least come in some cuter colors or patterns?"
"Oh good grief! What do you want – underoos!?"
Illya did not appreciate the remark, and retaliated by reaching for a white lace thong that looked like it would have been right at home on a honeymoon.
"Ah, there, these should do nicely –"
"Oh, whatever! What would you even need those for anyway!?"
Rin answered defiantly, but Illya had made her point. For all those years she'd spent trapped in her diminutive form, clearly she'd been nursing the sensibilities of a woman.
It was not that Rin had anything against cute panties. She just preferred a more practical approach. Being a mage was a serious business – and one that left little time or budget for frilly knickers. She wasn't as Spartan as Saber, and even she could concede that few small additions – a few tasteful bows, or a little patch of lace – were not out of place.
She even had one pair of black, rather racy ones that she kept as part of a hope chest of sorts, though it was not like she had anyone to be hopeful for – at least, not yet.
'I mean, Shiro's an idiot', Rin thought to herself.
"Wait! Why am I thinking of Emiya!?"
"What's that?" Illya asked?
"Oh, nothing!"
"It isn't that . . ." Illya said, looking down again, as she took her finger and traced the line where the edge of the blue set in sleeves joined the white body of the shirt – though she did take a moment to jab her finger into the side of her breast and watch it jiggle – which made Rin's eye twitch.
"It's just that Shiro is so . . . symmetrical."
"He's predictable!" Saber said, folding her arms and tossing her head to the side. "A bad habit in combat."
"B – o – o – rring!" Rin added, throwing her hands up over her heard and stretching her back. "I mean, you hardly even need to talk to him – because for anything you ask, you already know what he is going to say –"
"Oh yeah – well – I think that's what so great about him! Shiro's dependable – you can count on him to always do whatever he thinks is right, no matter what anyone else has to say – and he's kind – so, I – uh . . ."
Sakura's voice trailed off, as she suddenly realized that Rin, Saber, and Illya were all staring at her.
"Ah, that's right", Rin said. She'd been surprised by Sakura's sudden outburst, but quickly regained the offensive.
"I completely forgot that Miss Matou here can be very vocal about her feelings at times – especially when Emiya is involved."
"F – f – f – feelings!? Emiya!?"
They were still squabbling when they heard the sounds of a key turning in the lock.
"Hey everyone, I'm home!" Shiro called from the hall.
"Welcome home – "
"Welcome home –"
Rin and Sakura shouted in unison before turning to stare at one another sourly.
"Welcome home, Master", Saber said with great deference. She drew herself up with her back perfectly straight and her knees pressed modestly together, then bent forward, placing her fingertips on the mat before her, making a bow whose perfect grace and elegance made it clear that she'd been practicing, no doubt in secret while the others were away at school.
Illya glared at her coldly, her own weak "Welcome home, big brother", seeming to fall rather flat, and she resolved that next time she would break out the big guns and greet Shiro wearing an apron – and nothing else.
"Busy saving the world with housework again, I see?" Rin teased.
"I'm sorry I'm late. Work ran long, and I –"
Shiro's voice trailed off at the sight of the banner hanging over the back wall of the room.
"Happy One Year Anniversary . . ?"
Rin covered her mouth with her fist and made a small, dignified cough.
"Ahem. Ladies and Gentleman – I guess Shiro counts – may I have your attention please? The First Annual Reunion For Survivors of the Fifth Holy Grail War is hearby in session!"
"Reunion? Grail War? Wait – annual? You mean we're going to do this every year!?"
Rin beamed good naturedly.
"Mmm hmm – I thought it might be nice to get everyone together again to celebrate Illya's recovery. And besides, it gives us an excuse to make Shiro cook for us – "
"Um – I don't mind helping with the cooking – " Sakura said timidly. "It's not fair to make Shiro do everything."
"Oh, Sakura, my dear, Shiro here is a masochist. Left up to his own devices, he wouldn't know what to do – he needs a firm hand. Now get in the kitchen and whip something up for us!" Rin said, turning to Shiro and tossing him the apron that Sakura had been holding (and hoping that no one would notice that she had been sniffing.)
"Eek!" she cried as Shiro caught the apron with one hand.
"Yes ma'am!"
"Not that I mind", Shiro said, using a hand towel to dry one of the bowels as he tidied up after dinner, "but how on earth did you guys get this past Miss Taiga? I mean, isn't the Grail War supposed to be secret? What if she found out – you wouldn't actually kill her would you?"
Rin closed her eyes and smiled good naturedly – a little too good naturedly.
"Would you!?"
"Okay, kids!" Taiga called from the hall as she put on her helmet. "Have fun with your game! At least you're doing something that engages your minds. We should try something like this in class – maybe for this year's school festival!"
Shiro stared at her, dumbfounded, as she adjusted her chin strap.
"Alright now, I'm trusting you! I believe this is what they call a system of checks and balances. I have to leave early because I have papers to grade – with all of you here to fight over poor Shiro, I trust that nothing will actually happen – but if I come back tomorrow and find that you've all killed each other and I have to resign, I'm going to be seriously pissed – got it?"
"Yes ma'am!" they all shouted in unison. All except for Shiro, who was still standing, and still looking dumbfounded, as Rin listened to the sounds of Taiga's moped fade away into the distance.
"There, that should about do it – now we can get down to business!"
"Business?" Shiro asked.
For an answer, Rin went over to the ice box. Reaching inside, she retrieved a chilled bottle with a very fancy looking foil wrapper.
"Wait, is that champagne!?"
Without a word, she took out five glasses, then popped the cork and began filling them one by one.
"Where did you get that!?"
"From a friend", Rin said. She gave one to Illya, then one to Saber, and one to Sakura as well.
Vainly Shiro looked around for some sort of help, but Illya accepted her glass without so much as batting an eyelash, while Saber remained as stern and stoic as ever. Even the usually timid Sakura took her glass without a hint of hesitation.
"I guess it makes sense", Shiro thought to himself. "Illya's from a western family, so she's probably used to the idea of having wine with dinner, and Saber probably drank a ton of mead back in the Middle Ages – but come on, Sakura, you too?"
"Thank you", Sakura said shyly.
"Here you go", Rin said, handing him his glass and tapping it with hers. "Bottoms up!"
Shiro stared nervously at the foaming liquid.
"Oh man", he thought, "I don't want to do anything stupid or embarrassing – I hope I can keep up!"
"You're supposed to drink it, you know –"
Cringing, Shiro closed his eyes and took a sip.
"Wait a minute", he thought, "this is –"
" – Grape juice!" Shiro sputtered as Rin closed one eye and stuck out her tongue.
"I should have told you", she said between fits of giggles, "but you looked so serious, I just couldn't resist –"
"Very funny . . ." Shiro scowled while Rin held her side and laughed, but in the end he couldn't be angry with her.
"Tohsaka rarely laughs like this. It's good to see her happy."
"Mmpfh – I can barely stop to take a sip –"
"She's so elegant . . ." he thought, noticing the way her fingers wrapped around the slender stem of the glass. "No wonder she's so popular at school."
"So Shiro", Rin went on, once she'd finally regained her composure. "As a survivor of the Fifth Holy Grail War, what are your thoughts? Is there anything you would have done differently?"
"Wow, there's probably a LOT of things I would have done differently. I'm sure I made a ton of mistakes. I guess – now that I know that Servants don't actually die, but just sleep until the next time they're called for another Grail War, I'd be a lot less hesitant – I'd probably line everyone up and just let Saber take them all out with one shot –"
"YES MASTER ! At last I see you've finally come to your senses!"
"What – wait – Saber, no! I was only joking! Put that sword away!"
"Ohh . . ." Saber said dejectedly.
"Still – the Grail Wars only occur every fifty years – it's a long time, but I guess I'll still be alive – though I'm sure I'll be too old to fight in any battles by then. Even so, it would be nice to see everyone again . . ."
Rin smiled.
"Homunculus half aside, the Einzberns are a very long lived line, so I'm sure Miss Illya will still be with us as well – though by then time and gravity will have done their dirty work – " she added, glaring at Illya's chest.
"Mm, I'll just ask Shiro to turn back time for me again – ohh, my back hurts – Shiro, be a dear and rub my shoulders, will you?"
"Why you – "
"What about you, Tohsaka? Is there anything you would do differently?"
"Yes. I've given it a lot of thought. I still had Command Seals left, so I would have used one of them before the big battle and ordered Archer to clean my house!"
This provoked a general laugh.
"It really is such a pain, living alone. What about you, Sakura?"
"Oh – I don't know – I mean, I'm just glad how everything turned out – "
"Oh? For MY part, I would have kidnapped Shiro right at the beginning, and locked him up in Einzebern Castle and kept him all for myself – "
"Illya, what are you – "
Shiro tried to resist as Illya slithered into his lap.
"This really isn't – "
"It's okay big brother. If it makes it easier, I can tie you up and you can pretend to resist so you don't have to admit you're getting what you really want – "
"Get off of him you!" Saber shouted, her sword materializing in her hands. "EX – "
"Ack! Big brother, save me!"
Rin listened to the sounds of their shouting disappear down the hall, then took her hand out of the pocket where she kept her explosive magic gems.
"Well, let's have dessert."
"You know, it's strange . . ."
Rin's eyes followed Shiro's gaze through the frosted panes of glass, out to the courtyard beyond.
"The Fourth Grail War took away everything I had – my family, my friends, my home – everything . . ."
They were standing in the hall, along the inner wall of the Emiya House. Shiro was still wearing an apron from clearing away the dishes for the second time, and Rin had done away with her shoes, wearing only her stockings, and not even bothering with a pair of house slippers.
"I should probably hate the Grail War for that – and I do – I hate the whole damn process –"
"I – lost a lot of things too . . ." Rin said.
She was never sure of what the right thing to say around him was. It was one of the reasons she found Shiro so aggravating. And yet for some reason, it was one of the things she liked about him, too.
"But then the Fifth Grail War came along, and gave so many things back to me – getting to know Saber, and Illya – and getting to know Sakura in a whole new way. And you – it's nice to have friends again. And it's almost like –"
"It's okay . . ." Rin said, seeing the way his voice trailed off.
"It's almost like we're a family –"
"MISS ILLYASVIEL VON EINZBERN !"
Saber's voice exploded from the adjoining room at some unknown provocation.
"I told you, my friends can call me Illya!"
"A very *dysfunctional* family – " Shiro chuckled, and Rin laughed along with him. There was something about seeing her like this, outside of her school uniform, with her old red sweater and black skirt. He couldn't say what it was, but it filled him with a sense of warmth.
"You – didn't call all of us here together just for fun – did you?"
"Well now Shiro, whatever would make you say that?" Rin asked, smiling again.
"It's not like you. That, and – after everything we've been through – I guess I just know you too well, that's all."
Rin smiled again, but this time it was a softer smile, smaller, and more genuine.
"That – makes me happy – though I can't say just why – yes, that's enough – for now, that will do . . ."
"Eh . . ?"
"You're right, of course. I never could fool you –"
"Fool me about what?"
Rin rolled up her sleeve so Shiro could see the reddish abrasion forming on the back of her hand.
"Surely you must have felt it by now. You must have noticed – you're very subtle."
"Me – subtle?"
"Ahem!", she said, turning her attention to Saber, Illya, and Sakura in the adjoining room. "Everyone, I'm sorry to say that our First Annual Reunion For The Survivors of the Fifth Holy Grail War might also be our last –"
And here she held up her hand so the others could see.
"It's starting again . . ."
Rin held out her hand, and Shiro, Saber, Sakura, and Illya gathered around to look at the strange little reddish mark. It was very faint, but by looking closely one could make out that it was composed of two circles, one inside the other, with a line approaching them from her wrist. In the language of the Grail it represented an arrow striking a target – the symbol for the Archer.
It was a Command Seal.
"But – how . . ?" Shiro asked, trying to make sense of what he saw. "There shouldn't be another Grail War for fifty years!"
Vainly he turned to Sakura for help, but instead of shock or surprise, her face was full of resignation, tinged with sadness.
Holding out her hand, she slowly and deliberately undid the button at her wrist, before rolling up her sleeve. There, on the back, was another red mark, similar to Rin's though blurry and less distinct.
"I'm sorry Sempai . . ."
She held her one hand in the other, as if it was some strange object utterly foreign to her, and ran her thumb over the red skin.
He turned to Illya, but she was already turning away.
"I'm sorry too, big brother – I thought you knew, and were just waiting for the right time to mention it . . ."
"Shiro really can't be blamed", Rin said, with a surprising softness. "After all, he's got Saber, so there wouldn't be anything for him to notice. He's already got a Command Seal . . . Oh well, it can't be helped. At this point, I suppose all that's left is to figure out what to do . . ."
"What I don't get is why would anyone who's fought in one Grail War ever fight in another? I mean, the whole thing is so terrible –"
"Don't you have any unfulfilled wish?" Rin asked.
Her tone was so serious, it caught him off his guard.
"Well, yeah – I mean no . . . there's lots of things –"
"LOTS of things!? First you say yes, then you say no, and then you say lots of things!?"
"It's just – there's one thing I don't get – "
"There are LOTS of things you don't get !"
"I just – "
"YOU ARE SO WISHY WASHY !"
"It's just – there are a lot of things I might wish for – but not with the Grail. I mean – if you had the chance, would you use it?"
Rin paused. It was only for a moment, but it was long enough to make him nervous.
" . . . No. There are lots of things that I might wish for too, but you're right – not on the Grail. The only reason I ever wanted the Grail was to win the war for the Tohsaka family. As for the Grail itself, I really don't care."
"The Grail only grants wishes through death and destruction", Shiro said.
"But that isn't exactly common knowledge", Saber added.
"And I'm sure the Mages' Association is full of unscrupulous individuals who either don't know, or wouldn't care" Rin added. "Either way, all that's left to do now is to summon our Servants and –"
"No, wait –"
"What do you mean, wait!? I've had just about enough of you –"
"No, listen – I don't think we should summon our Servants –"
"Not summon our – that would be suicide!"
"I don't think we should do anything all . . ."
Saber looked at Shiro curiously while Rin sat, fuming.
"Look – just hear me out. I've been thinking about it a lot – since Rin asked me earlier if I would have done anything differently, and before that, too – "
Rin looked over, then suddenly remembered that she was supposed to still be mad at him, and looked away angrily again.
" – If I was the Grail, and I wanted to call another War – why involve the previous Masters at all?"
"Maybe the Grail is counting on us to be selfish?" Illya asked.
"Maybe – but why not just start over, with seven new Masters who'd never had anything to do with the previous war?
'Something's wrong. The Grail Wars are only supposed to happen every fifty or sixty years or so, but after the Fourth Holy Grail War, it was only ten years before the Fifth war started – and now it's only been one year, and already it's starting again."
"The interval keeps getting shorter", Saber noted.
Illya nodded.
"It's almost like time itself is contracting."
"And there's another problem. I'm not a proper Master – I'm sure the only reason I was able to participate is because my Dad was a magus who fought in the previous War. I'm not like Tohsaka here who has a formal magical background."
Rin blushed at the compliment.
"Um, actually", she said, putting her fingertips together, "I kind of skipped out once I got old enough to ditch Kotomine's lessons. After that I was pretty much self taught . . ."
"Wait – what? You mean after all that crap you've given me about not being a 'Proper Master', that you –"
"Look, I'm still a whole lot better than you!"
Saber quickly put her arm between them.
"Actually, that's even more to the point – I'm not a Magus, and Rin only has half of a magical education. I don't know what Sakura and Illya's training was like, but we're all still very young.
'Too young – if I was the Grail, I wouldn't pick a bunch of teenagers with no experience fighting a real war. The Grail tournament is supposed to be very prestigious – I'd pick the seven most capable magicians in the whole world – people who had fought in a lot of battles, and who had the money and resources to travel anywhere, because that's another thing I wouldn't do – I would never hold the War in the same place twice. Isn't the whole thing supposed to be a secret? So much so that you're supposed to kill any witnesses to prevent the world from finding out?" If that's the case I'd hold the Grail War in a different city each time to minimize the chances of being discovered."
"Maybe it's easier for the Grail to call existing Masters than it is to choose new ones?" Illya suggested.
"I think that's probably true. Eleven years ago, the Grail appeared in Fuyuki City. But somehow or other, something went wrong, and the War wasn't successful. So ten years later, it tried again – only this time it wasn't successful either. So now here we are, ONE year later, and another War is starting –"
'The Grail didn't choose us because we're the best choice, or it was easier – it chose us because it had to – it has no other options, and so it's making the best out of what it's got. In a word, it's desperate."
For a moment they all sat in silence. Rin and Saber in particular regarded Shiro with a kind of wonder, trying to understand who this strange person was who had taken the place of the well intentioned idiot they knew and loved, and what he had done with him. When at last any of them dared to speak, it was Rin who spoke first.
"Suppose for the moment that all you say is true", she said, drawing her words out very carefully. "That still doesn't give us much of a plan. What exactly would you propose we do next?"
"The Grail is sniffing around, looking for someone to listen to it – to answer its call. All we have to do is NOT summon our Servants, and we win."
"That's all very fine and good, but even if we agree, there's no guarantee the other Masters will feel the same way. YOU might be all right – you've still got Saber as your Servant. But the rest of us are sitting ducks. All it would take is for one of the other Masters to summon their Servant, and we would all be wiped out."
"We'll have to find a way to figure out who the other Masters are, and convince them not to participate in the Grail War."
"And if they won't listen?"
". . . . ."
"What if the other Masters insist on having a war? Oh no! Don't you look away from me ! We have to settle this right now. What if the other Masters won't listen to you, and insist that they want to summon their Servants?"
" . . . Then we summon our Servants, and fight."
"Even if that means another War?"
"Yes."
Even if that means fighting the other Masters?"
"Yes –"
"– and possibly killing them?"
" . . . Yes. I want to try to avoid fighting as much as possible. And if we have to fight, I'd prefer to try to focus on defeating the other Servants first. But if it means preventing another disaster like the one from eleven years ago – if it means protecting you and Sakura and Illya – all of my friends and all of Fuyuki City – then yes."
"We could always find the other Masters and kill them pre-emptively", Illya said, her voice's saccharine cuteness totally at odds with her sanguinary suggestion.
"No", Rin said. "Shiro would never agree to that. And I don't think I would either. This is good enough. Yes – for now, this will have to do – Are we all in agreement?"
Sakura nodded timidly.
Illya shrugged a yawn.
"If that's what big brother wants to do . . ."
Saber remained as stoic as ever.
"Very well. Our first priority should be to discover who the other Masters are."
"Right. We'll find them and try to convince them not to participate in the Grail War. If that doesn't work, we'll summon our Servants and fight!"
"Three against four would give us the advantage, but it could still be very dangerous."
"It isn't very chivalrous, but if it comes to that, I suggest we team up and all work together to take them out one at a time. Sorry, Saber –" Shiro said as Saber sulked, "I know you'd rather fight a series of honorable duels, but the risk is just too great."
"A greater danger would be if the three other Masters somehow figure out what's going on, and summon their Servants before we get the chance," Rin said. Then it would be three on one. Saber may be strong, but she's still just one Servant –"
"Yes, but the Saber is the strongest class –"
"And I'm the strongest Saber Servant!"
"No one's doubting your strength, Saber. I know we can count on you!"
Rin regarded them both with disgust.
"Let's not forget whose mana has been powering this convenient little arrangement", she said under her breath. " . . . ahem – I'm no heroic spirit, but I am a Mage. And Illya is no slouch, either."
"And I'm not much of a Mage, but I do have the power of the Blade Works . . ."
"Well, it isn't the best, but we'll just have to make do with what we've got."
"Right. If it comes to a battle, we just need to buy enough time for everyone else to summon their Servants."
"If things play out like they did during the last Grail War, then we can figure that Saber, Archer, Rider, and Berserker will all be accounted for. That leaves Assassin, Caster, and Lancer. Of the three, it's Caster and Assassin that I'm most worried about.
'Lancer is strong, and fast, but he's likely to make a frontal attack, and he's no match for a Saber –"
"Especially not our Saber!"
" – But an Assassin could attack us at any time, without warning – even in our sleep. And Caster can use advanced spells with a single word that would take a normal Mage several minutes, even hours to complete. If a Caster class Servant attacks us, we may have only seconds to react."
"We need to strengthen the barriers around each of our houses. Do you think it would be better for all of us to stay in one place? That way we could combine our power and make one barrier that's super strong?"
"How very astute. I'd considered that too, but I'm not sure that the advantages outweigh the risks. With all of us together, the barrier would be strong, but it also gives our enemy just one place to attack. That, and a barrier of that size would stick out like a sore thumb.
'On the other hand, if we're all spread out, an enemy has to try to find and watch all of us. But we're vulnerable. Shiro's got Saber with him, so he should be fine. I've got my magic gems and gander shots, but I'm no Servant. If an actual Servant attacked me, I wouldn't be able to win.
'But that may be a chance we have to take. If something happens to one of us – if one of us goes missing or drops out of contact, I think we should all assume the worst, and summon our Servants immediately. My fear is that a crafty enemy might be patient enough to take the time to figure out who we all are, and then take us all out in one night."
"I have a suggestion", Illya said, raising her hand politely.
"What is it, Illya?"
"I put a magic thread on big brother in the last war, using one of my hairs. If you'd let me, I could put one on each of you. That way, if anyone went out of contact, I could notify the others immediately. And if you lost contact with me, you could assume that I had been attacked."
Rin considered.
"It could work. The danger is that we'd only know we were under attack when one of us had already been taken out. But it would be better to lose one of us than for all of us to be killed."
"Illya, do you have to put the threads on a person, or could you put them on something else?"
"Something else? Like what?"
"For example, I'm wondering if you could attach a thread to the barrier at Tohsaka's house, and another to the Matou residence and the Emiya estate? That way if a barrier got hit we would know that one of us was about to be attacked, and the rest of us could come help immediately."
Illya considered.
"Hmm, it should be possible . . ."
"What is it, Saber?" Shiro asked, seeing that his Servant looked thoughtful.
"In Camelot we had an arrangement with all the Knights of the Round Table. The Round Table itself was centrally located, but there were castles and post stations all throughout the countryside, and the King – I would keep court at different times in different places. We could mobilize very quickly, and an enemy could never be sure of where to strike."
"I like it! Saber will be our King, and Castle Einzbern will be our Round Table of Camelot. An attack on one of us will be an attack on all of us, and we'll all come to help an ally in need."
Rin looked at him doubtfully.
"Well then, I guess it's settled."
"Shiro . . . I'll be honest – I went along with this course of action because we didn't have anything else. But I don't really think it will work. To surrender the initiative to the enemy – to do nothing – that's no strategy at all."
They were standing in the hall of the Emiya house. Rin slipped on her coat, and fastened the buttons one by one, then stepped into her shoes. Shiro looked at her, then turned to face the door.
"I agree with you. As a strategy, simply sitting on our hands and hoping the other Masters won't summon their Servants won't work – at least, not for long. We're probably going to have to fight. And we're probably going to have to change our plans several times before the end of this. And I'm okay with that.
'But to let our enemy do whatever it wants – to summon our Servants as some sort of knee jerk reaction just because the beginnings of Command Seals have started to appear – that's as bad as letting the Grail control us. And I'm pretty sure if the Holy Grail wants me to do something, then I want to do the opposite."
Rin smiled at seeing how resolute he was.
"Well now, that makes me feel a little better. I'm happy to see you're putting so much thought into this. Yes, if you're that dedicated, we just might have a chance after all."
"Welcome home, Miss Irisviel," Leysritt said, bowing formally. They were words she had not used in almost ten years, so it was strange to think they would come so naturally now, after all this time.
She realized her error with a gasp.
"Young mistress! What happened!?"
"A spell went horribly wrong," Illya said, tossing off her coat. "Or horribly right, depending on how you look at it – "
"But you've –"
"Either way, I'm home. It's been a couple of weeks, and I thought I ought to visit. That, and I thought I might pick up some of mother's clothes. It seems they would suit me . . ."
"Of course, my Lady Illyasviel", Leysritt said, bowing again deferentially.
"Just Illya will do. But first, how about a bath? As you can see, a lot has happened in the last two weeks. It would be nice to relax . . ."
"Ah . . ." Illya sighed, sinking down into the oversized square tub.
The Einzbern Castle was always possessed of a certain dank chill, regardless of the time of year, so that bath times were usually a somewhat miserable affair. The cold tended to induce one to get undressed and washed as quickly as possible, and then hurry into the water, where they remained until the last possible moment, dreading the prospect of getting out and hurrying to get dressed again.
But at the moment, Illya found herself in no hurry at all. And never had the hot water felt so good.
"Ohh . . ." she sighed, feeling the tension melt out of her neck and shoulders.
"Maybe Saber's right about that business of wearing a bra," she thought, looking down at the two sources of her aches and pains, and admiring the considerably larger ripples they now made in the water.
For a moment she could not resist a laugh, giggling at Saber's description.
"I realize that it is inconvenient, and that the whole contraption feels about as comfortable as wearing an ill designed catapult, however I assure you it is completely necessary . . ." she had said.
And there were other inconveniences.
Showering was a much longer process, and much more involved, with more to wash – and it certainly took more soap. And she found she tended to sweat more, and in places that hadn't even existed two weeks ago – but still, she wasn't about to complain.
"Two weeks . . ." she said, hearing the words echo off of the stone walls and come back to her through the steam.
It was an unthinkable amount of time.
Since the start of the Fifth Holy Grail War, her life had been measured in days and hours. She lived with the knowledge that at any moment she might be attacked. After the war things had gotten a bit better – she'd gotten to live with Shiro, after all. But in some ways this was even worse.
No one could predict how long an Einzbern homunculous would last, but all of the estimates had agreed that with the amount of energy she'd expended during the war, it would be less than a year. And so every day she had lived in paradise, and every night she went to bed, clutching Shiro, and wondering if that day would be her last.
But now . . . two weeks! It was more than she could even imagine, and nothing – not even the prospect of this shady attempt at another Grail War – could possibly dampen her spirits.
"Maybe we ought to throw a party . . ." she thought to herself. "I'll ask Leysritt and Sella about it. It might be kind of nice . . ."
At last the hot water ran out, and she got out and got dried off in a mad dash of bouncing and flouncing that she was at once both disappointed and relieved that Shiro wasn't there to see. Perhaps it would be best to practice several times first, to see what gestures were the most dramatic, and then feign ignorance while watching him to see which ones proved the most effective.
For the moment she stood in her towel, wreathed in frail wisps of steam. With the castle's chill, there was never enough heat for it to last for long, and looking in the mirror, she found that only the edges had fogged, so that already she could see herself clearly.
That was another thing that was different. In the past, by now she'd have been shivering violently, but now, although she certainly felt the chill, she found herself no more than mildly uncomfortable as she stood in her damp towel, and contemplated what to wear.
"I guess I'm sturdier than I used to be . . ."
She tried on several dresses, as well as a few of her old gowns, but none of them fit quite right. Some were too small for her new proportions, while others simply looked too juvenile.
Illya sighed.
"I guess there's nothing else for it . . ."
The wooden doors were old, but perfectly polished. Clearly Leysritt and Sella had been most dutiful in their upkeeping.
For a moment she stood with her arm outstretched as if she would knock.
And then she went in.
The room beyond was cold, its air thin, hung with the grey gauze of the passing of time. With a soft click, the lamp's yellow light pushed back the gloom. At once the room with memories. She looked at the bed, remembering how she used to sit between her father and mother, and plead to stay with them instead of going back to her own room. Her mother chided her – gently – and said no. But in the end she usually won.
Outside the window it was dark, the night a tangle of indistinct haze. Had she looked, she knew she would have seen the field where she and her father used to play in the snow. But for now her business was elsewhere.
Opening the closet door, she began to sort through the clothes, moving the hangars one by one. She found one of her mother Irisviel's white dresses. It was a beautiful gown with gold edging at the neck and sleeves.
She decided to try it on.
It was a perfect fit.
Next, she reached for the purple coat. It was just like hers, only taller, and more elegant. She could still remember the day her father had bought both of them, after taking her and her mother out shopping. Carefully she fastened the buttons, and then tightened the belt at her waist. On her head she placed the pill box hat. It was a style that had gone out of fashion overseas some forty years ago, doomed to forever be associated with the assassination of a certain president. But the Einzbern family was from Germany, and in Europe it had remained popular for quite some time.
Something was in the pockets.
Feeling, she found a pair of gloves. Their fingers were long and slender, so that for a moment they reminded her of spiders. When she pulled them on, the leather felt old, and stiff, but inside they were lined with fur, very soft, and surprisingly warm.
For a moment she regarded the strangely familiar woman in the mirror.
There was only one place left to go.
"Are you sure, my Lady?"
"Am I not the Master of this House?"
"It's not that – it's just –"
"It's okay, Sella. I want to see."
"You – will excuse me if I don't accompany you . . ?"
"Of course. Wait here for me."
At the unsealing of the basement door there was a wafting sense of warmth. The air on the other side was heavy and damp. It was nothing like the chill of the castle – this was something else.
The air had a kind of texture to it – not the processed feel of being conditioned by machines – it was warm – and moist – as if it had been breathed through a thousand breaths. It was the warmth of life.
The stairs before her descended down into the darkness. They went all the way to floor, but only made it halfway before becoming lost in a strange tangle of shapes. The basement itself was cavernously large, and it's space was filled with a thousand forms. There were arms – legs – feet – hands – all exactly the same. And all perfectly white.
At the turning on of the light, a thousand red eyes flickered open to greet her. Eyes red like her own.
This room was home to one of the Einzbern family's peculiar magicks. The homunculus.
"Sisters – I'm home."
"Illya – "
"It's Illya!"
"Miss Illya has come to see us!"
"You – remember me?" Illya asked, stepping down onto the landing, and walking out to the railing's edge, careful not to get too close to the outstretched arms with their grasping hands, lest they seize her and drag her in.
"Of course!"
"You're Ilyasviel –"
"Irisviel's daughter –"
"But you told us we could call you Illya."
At the mention of her mother, Illya frowned. Supposedly Irisviel had been given a tomb in the castle mausoleum upstairs, but she doubted if it were opened if she might not find it empty. The Einzbern's were ruthlessly practical and efficient, and the usual process for disposing of a homunculus was to bring it here so it could be absorbed as food for the next generation. They weren't known for wasting energy or materials.
She called them her sisters, but it would have been more appropriate to say she was their niece. Her mother had been given to Kiritsugu as a gift – a tool to help him win the Holy Grail War. But he had loved her. And she had loved him. And Illya's existence was proof of that love.
Looking out, Illya regarded the strange tangle of shapes. They were in all different stages of their existence. Some were in the process of being born, slowly separating from the rest. A few were far enough along that they could have been taken out and lived on their own. Others were in the act of dying, slowly liquefying back into a white ooze.
Some had features that were fully formed – with eyes and fingernails and hair and teeth. Others were less distinct. One girl at the top of the pile was lying on her back, her un-nippled breasts lolled on top of her chest while the two vague depressions that were her eyes stared upwards, lidless and empty.
Illya's eyes were drawn to one woman in particular, lying on her side, with a single red eye staring out between the strands of her white hair. It was impossible to say if she were growing out of the pile, or melting back into it. When she saw Illya, she smiled.
"My, how you've grown . . ."
Illya swallowed hard.
"I – suppose you must hate me. Out – wandering free – while all of you are trapped down here –"
"No!"
"No, my lady –"
"Not at all!"
"We could never hate you – "
"You're one of us!"
"No man ever yet hated his own flesh –"
"We want you to live."
"To – live?" Illya asked, unprepared for such an answer.
"You have to live – "
"And be happy –"
"You have to live for all of the ones that died –"
"For your sisters – "
"You have to live enough for all of us."
"For all of us . . ." Illya repeated, turning the words over in her mind.
She clenched her hand into a small white fist.
"Then my mind is made up."
"Welcome to Castle Einzbern!"
"Eh – heh – heh . . ." Rin mumbled to herself. "I've been upstaged . . ."
"You can't go to the party like that!" Rin had exclaimed, when Shiro met her at the door.
"But why not? Illya's invitation said we didn't have to dress up . . ?"
What Shiro said was true. Rin had gotten the same invitation. It was printed on black paper, with silver letters, and decorated with a ruffle of purple lace (a nice touch, even she had to admit.) The exact words were,
"You are cordially invited to a ball at Castle Einzbern, in honor of Her Royal Highness, Miss Arturia (Saber) of the House of Pendragon," and went on to note, "Refreshments and entertainment will be provided. There's no need to dress up, but I thought it might be fun to wear something kind of nice . . ."
Rin had read 'kind of nice' as code for 'full formal.' She wasn't about to underestimate a former enemy. And as former enemies went, few could be as formidable as Illyasviel von Einzbern.
"I don't trust that Einzbern girl," Rin thought. "She's up to something . . ."
She had suspected it would be a mistake to leave Shiro up to his own devices, and upon arriving at the Emiya Estate to collect him, her suspicions were proven right.
Shiro had greeted her with a wide smile, wearing the same blue and white t-shirt he always wore. Apparently his idea of dressing up consisted of wearing a fresh pair of jeans, and the addition of a matching blue and white jacket over his regular t-shirt – though to his credit, the latter was freshly laundered.
As he stood beaming good naturedly, Rin stared and wondered exactly how hard she would have to slap him to knock that goofy grin off of his face.
For her part she'd worn a yellow evening gown, in a mermaid style, with a double ruffle around the neck. It wasn't particularly low cut, but the way the ruffles ran down past the collar and into the body of the dress together with the way it hugged her curves gave it an unintentionally sensuous appearance. That, and the color (spring was still several months away, so it was a bit early for pastels) made her feel rather uncertain about it. But the effect on Shiro was clear.
"Wow . . ."
"Don't just stand there and stare! It's rude –"
"But you look so pretty –"
"Ohh! You can't just SAY that to me!"
Rin turned away, trying to conceal how red her face was.
'For such an idiot, how does he always manage to find exactly the right words . . ." she wondered.
It was a mystery that for the moment at least would have to go unsolved.
"Anyhow, you simply CANNOT go to the party like that – "
"But why not?"
"The fact that you have to ask means that you're an even bigger idiot than I had thought", Rin said, rummaging through his closet and a nearby wardrobe.
She pulled out a single breasted black suit, with matching coat and pants, and threw them on the bed.
"Rin, those are the – "
"I don't care!" she shouted, continuing her digging. "Do you even OWN a necktie!?"
"No – I don't!"
"Ah – ha! Then what's this?" she asked smugly, holding up her find. The strip of black fabric dangling from her fingers was decorated with a series of green stripes – not unlike the pathways of a magic circuit.
Continuing her search, she found a pale green dress shirt. The colors weren't an exact match, but they were close enough.
"It wouldn't be my first choice, but it will have to do."
The shirt, however, was terribly wrinkled.
"Wait – you mean YOU know how to iron!?" Shiro asked as she set up the ironing board.
"Don't act so surprised!" Rin shouted, adjusting the dial and pouring in a bit of distilled water.
"It's just – that's more the kind of thing I would expect Sakura to do –"
"Sakura isn't here!" Rin said triumphantly, pressing the button to release a puff of steam.
She ran the iron over the shirt mercilessly, turning it this way and that, pressing with what seemed like an unnecessary degree of violence, then tossed Shiro the result, watching as he fiddled clumsily with the buttons, which he got started out of line, so that one side was higher than the other.
"Oh good grief!" she shouted, slapping his hands away as she undid the buttons and then quickly rebuttoned them again.
"What am I ever going to do with you?" she asked, letting her fingers linger at his collar for a moment before taking the tie and draping it around his neck. She made several quick passes to form a loose knot, then cinched it tight, not even pretending to not enjoy his discomfort.
"Urk! Too tight!"
"It's supposed to be tight!" she said, handing him the brush imperiously.
"Here, fix your hair!"
She watched as Shiro made several passes, but the only noticeable effect was that the loose collection of messy spikes that made up his hair moved from the left side to the right, before ending standing straight up in the middle.
"Oh well, I guess that's good enough. Come on, we have to hurry, or we'll be late."
"Are you sure we're not overdoing it?" Shiro asked.
"Not in the least", Rin answered, though as they made their way up the castle steps, the clicking of her heels gave her some doubts.
But all of those doubts were erased the moment Leysritt opened the castle door.
"Welcome to Castle Einzbern!" Illya shouted from somewhere behind her. As they made their way inside, they were just in time to see her descending the main stair – though secretly Rin suspected she'd been waiting and timed the whole thing for maximum effect.
The castle hall was decorated for the occasion with purple ribbons tied around each of the columns, along with garlands of white flowers. Illya was decorated the same way – she wore a beautiful princess dress with a white bodice and a billowing skirt that started off lavender at the waist but ran down her legs into ever darkening shades of purple. The whole thing was veined with gold throughout, and as she flitted down the stairs and among the pillars, she cut a striking picture wherever she went.
The effect was stunning, Rin had to admit. By the time she reached the two of them, Shiro seemed to have lost the ability to speak.
"Big brother!" she shouted, throwing her arms around his neck.
Sakura and Saber were standing off to one side. Their attire clearly indicated that they had read Illya's invitation the same way – Sakura was dressed in a pink ball gown with white ribbons at her arms and waist, while Saber wore a beautiful pastel blue dress whose puffed sleeves and square neck gave her a faintly medieval appearance.
"I hope that everything is to your liking, your Highness", Illya said, curtsying gracefully before leading her to the sideboard where a generous buffet was laid out.
Such references to her former royal status made Saber nervous, but Illya seemed so good natured, finishing with a laugh – and besides, there was food – so she decided to play along for now, and humor her.
"I thought it might be nice to have a party", Illya said, turning to Rin while Saber allowed Leysritt and Sella to ply her with appetizers. "Saber mentioned keeping court, and besides, it's been so long since any of you have been to Castle Einzbern – not since the War, and that was under very different circumstances.
Rin pursed her lips and assumed a very thoughtful look.
"Yes, that's very nice. Thank you for your hospitality. Even so, after tonight, I think it might be best if we refrain from all gathering together in one place like this. With so many Mages in one spot, the signature of our magic energy must be rather large. We'd be easy to detect, and easy to attack.
'That, and I'm a little nervous about walking home. I wouldn't want one of us to be attacked while out on the road – or to find a nasty surprise waiting when we get back."
"Yes, of course", Illya said, bowing deferentially.
Rin regarded her for a moment, trying to fathom what her intentions might be.
"Saber and I can walk you and Sakura home", Shiro volunteered cheerfully.
"And I can come too", Illya offered. "Leysritt and Sella can keep an eye on the castle."
"Hmm, well, I suppose that makes me feel a bit better."
"Shiro, get your coat", Illya said, cutting her eyes towards the door. "There's something I want you to see . . ."
Shiro looked at her questioningly, but no explanation seemed forthcoming. Over his shoulder he could see and hear Rin in the yellow light of the hall, laughing at something Saber or Sakura had said. He glanced at her for a moment, then back to Illya, finding her purple eyes staring at him intently.
"Come on, hurry!" she pleaded, taking his hand.
He glanced over his shoulder one more time before allowing himself to be led away.
Outside the night air was cold and crisp. They were on a second story balcony that overlooked the main approach to the castle. While it wasn't particularly late, the evening had worn on long enough that the gusty winds that accompanied the change between the day and night seasons had settled out into a tranquil calm. The air was chill, but overall it was a pleasant winter evening.
To be honest, he was glad to escape the party for a moment, even if it was a small one, glad to escape the conversations and the joking, which he never felt he had been very good at, glad to be wearing his old blue and white jacket over his sport coat – glad to be himself again.
Illya was already wearing her coat when she had signaled to him, a purple one that was just like the old one she always wore, only taller and slimmer, more elegant looking. As they stepped out, she slipped on a matching purple hat. She looked at him from the edge of the balcony, with the dark sky behind her. He got the impression there was something he was supposed to do, but he didn't know what. In the end, he decided it was best to just play along.
"What is it, Illya? You said there was something you wanted to show me?"
For an answer she led the way down a flight of stairs to another door off to the right.
"There are other ways we could go", she said, "but that would mean going back through the castle."
"And this is something you don't want the others to see?"
"This is something just for you, big brother."
Her answer made him slightly uncomfortable.
The door lead to an entirely different part of the castle. Looking around, Shiro found himself in surroundings that were much more like what he would expect of a medieval fortress. The walls were grey, made of big blocks of stone. They were fitted together in a way that, although not devoid of craft or artistry, left the distinct impression that they were the work of a different time, much older than this.
He recalled that Illya had told him that Castle Einzbern really was a medieval castle, taken from the Einzbern family lands in their native Germany, and shipped over to Japan piece by piece, where it was then reassembled in Fuyuki City.
"It wasn't the main castle", Illya had explained. "Only one of the littler ones."
"Only one of the littler ones!" Shiro exclaimed to himself, amazed at the sheer size of the undertaking, and at Illya's definition of little. Clearly the Einzberns were a wealthy family, but even for them, the expense must have been enormous.
"I guess it makes sense that they would only spend the money to renovate the parts where someone was actually living, and leave the rest of it unfinished", he thought.
Even so, the rough nature of the walls made him uneasy. They seemed to get cruder and cruder the farther they went, and their wild, unfinished character left him with the sense that this was a place where anything could happen.
There was no electricity, and Illya hadn't brought a flashlight or a lantern or even so much as a candle. The only illumination was from the occasional narrow bowslit windows that cast blue shadows on the floor from the moonlight beyond.
Had Illya brought him all this way just to kill him?
"No, that couldn't possibly be true . . ."
But it did make him nervous to think that, no matter how loudly either of them might have shouted or screamed, no one would have been able to hear them.
At the end of the hall was a door, set in a massive stone archway, and made of heavy wooden planks fastened with iron bands. It was very ancient looking, and from her pocket, Illya produced an equally ancient looking key, which she fitted to the keyhole and turned the lock, its inner workings making a grating sound before opening with a clang.
With a creak the door swung back on its hinges.
At once, Shiro was overwhelmed with a sense of something that was strange, yet somehow familiar.
Inside, the walls were lined with books – old tomes, dusty histories, grimoires full of spells and incantations. Their bottom shelves held bins of even more ancient writings, rolled in scrolls, some of parchment, but other, even older ones appeared to be written on papyrus. To the right was a collection of laboratory equipment – beakers, flasks, diffusers, tubes – all very ancient and alchemical, but decidedly modern looking when compared to the contents of the library.
In the middle was a collection of cabinets full of artifacts, relics, and other curiosities, while beside them stood a lectern with a bookstand and the remains of several candles, clearly the work of many nights' endeavors.
Looking around, Shiro gasped, suddenly realizing the significance of what he was seeing.
"This is your – "
Illya nodded.
"A magician's workshop is a very personal thing", she said, putting her fingers together delicately.
"It was very kind of you to show me your workshop in the old building at Emiya house, so I thought it was only fair that I should show you mine . . ."
As she finished speaking, she closed the door, and leaned her back against it.
Suddenly Shiro found himself filled with a wild desire to grab her and kiss her. He imagined pinning her against the door, running his hands inside her coat, over her dress, and under it.
"What am I thinking!?"
Illya looked away demurely.
Tearing his eyes away, he pretended to be interested in a collection of Bunsen burners and titration tubes (and pretended to know how they worked), before making his way to a row of columns along the back wall, where a curious contraption drew his interest.
It seemed to be made of a collection of pulleys and chains, some of which ran along the floor, while others emerged from the wall. He stared at them for a moment, trying to puzzle out what they might be. But no matter how he looked at them, he could not come to any other conclusion than that the two cuffs that dangled before him were a pair of shackles.
"Um, Illya . . ?
"Ah – ha – ha – that . . ." Illya laughed nervously.
"When we held the ritual for the last Grail War, we knew we were going to summon a Berserker. I have enough magic circuits to control any kind of Servant, but it takes time, so we had to have some way to restrain him while the pact was being made."
"You can really determine the type of Servant you're going to summon in advance?" Shiro asked. He seemed to remember Rin telling him something similar, but the concept still fascinated him.
"Mmm hmm – it all comes down to the Catalyst."
"The Catalyst?"
"The object used during the ritual. An artifact or relic of some sort. Some of it can be controlled by location, or the time of day, but with the right Catalyst, you can predict the class, and sometimes even the exact identity of the Servant you summon.
'You've got Avalon – the scabbard for Excalibur – inside of you –" Illya went on, taking a sudden step towards him. "That's why, no matter how many times you try, you'll always summon her –" she said bitterly.
"You mean Saber?" Shiro asked, taking a step back.
"It's the same reason no matter how many times Rin tries, she'll always summon him," Illya said, taking another step forward.
"You're talking about Archer –" Shiro asked again, taking another step back.
"And it's the same reason that this is going to work."
Illya advanced again. Shiro moved to take another step away from her, but suddenly found his back against one of the pillars, pressed against the hard edges of the stones.
"Normally the Catalyst is consumed during the ritual", Illya said, leaning in close.
"Consumed?"
" – but with Avalon inside of you, you should survive quite nicely."
"What do you mean –should?"
"I'm sorry Shiro, but this is going to hurt . . ."
And with that, she clasped her mouth over his.
Her lips were soft, and pale. Instead of being pink or red, they were almost perfectly white, like the rest of her skin. For a moment he was lost in the lurid thought of whether other parts of her body that should be pink or red might be colored the same way. But these thoughts he dismissed as vulgar, and decided to focus for now only on her lips, and their softness.
But there was another softness as well. His hand had slipped inside her coat, and even now was filled with the soft swell of her breast. He hadn't done it on purpose, but the sensation, even through her dress, filled him with such warmth he found he couldn't take it away.
Illya, for her part, made no motion of stopping him. Her mouth was half open, and for a moment his whole world consisted only of the soft sweetness of her breath.
And then a fire shot through him.
Opening his eyes, he could see a bluish glow surrounding them.
"A magic circle! Mmpfh!"
He tried to pull away, but Illya kissed him harder. All around them, the blue circle gave way to dancing black flames.
The Command Seal in his hand pulsed, resonating with the Grail's call.
Behind them, he could see the shadowy figure of a man emerge.
Shiro gasped with recognition at the familiar figure that stood before them.
But Illya did not seem surprised.
If anything, she seemed to be expecting it.
Taking a white handkerchief from her pocket, she wiped her mouth.
"Hello, Father . . ."