Fate Stay Night: Unlimited Boob Works

Chapter 20

"The Medusa's Curse"

It was well after dark when Shiro found himself standing on the sidewalk in front of the Neo Fuyuki Tower. The rest of the girls, which at this point consisted of just Rin and Illya, had given him no trouble about going out – a point which he found highly suspicious – but for his present purposes was also convenient.

He'd made several fake turns and detours, zigzagging this way and that, not really sure what he was hiding or who he was it hiding from, but not once had he felt any sense of danger, or that queasy feeling he got when a Servant was near. He was fairly sure he wasn't being followed, at least.

He'd spent the first part of the evening as Rider had suggested, getting dinner and then doing a bit of window shopping, before going to an arcade where he got lost in the crowd, staying until close, when he wandered back out onto the street again. By now the crowds were beginning to thin, and he found it easy to slip into one of the alleyways when no one was looking.

"I wonder what Rider wanted to talk about that she couldn't just ask me yesterday evening?" he thought. "Maybe she wants to negotiate a truce between us and Saber?"

Overhead, the lights of the Neo Fuyuki Tower glimmered.

"I wouldn't spend too much time worrying about the alliance between Saber and Sakura," the priest Kotomine had said the last time he had visited him at Fuyuki Church. "It's a matter that cannot hold."

"Why do you say that? Do you think Sakura and Saber are going to have some kind of falling out or something?"

Kotomine smiled.

"It isn't that. It's just – in the end, they both want the same thing."

Shiro's eyes wandered up to the top of the tower.

"I wonder what Saber and Sakura could possibly have to fight about . . ?"

"You're late."

"Aack! Rider, don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I wasn't sneaking. You just weren't paying attention. And you're still late."

"Sorry . . . there aren't many trains at this hour, so I had to wait longer than expected. In the end, I just walked the several blocks over from the old tower."

Rider regarded him incredulously, the straight lines of her mouth impossible to read where they showed beneath her mask. For a moment she looked at him, then turned to peer around the corner at the brightly lit lobby. There was a revolving door with a concierge, while off to the side a second entrance offered valet parking, sporting a sign that indicated that there was also a stop from one of the rail lines beneath the street.

"Hmm – I didn't think of that. The public elevator doesn't stop on the penthouse floor. Mistress has a key, but . . ."

"I guess we could call and ask her to buzz us in . . ?"

Rider's eyes trailed up to the skyline far overhead.

"Get on."

"Wha – I couldn't possibly – "

Shiro protested as she leaned over, crouching in front of him.

"I *said* get on."

Unable to resist her imperious tone, Shiro reached forward, wrapping his arms around Rider's waist.

"Hold on tight. And whatever you do – don't let go."

"Wait – what are you going to – A – I – I – E – E – E !"

With a single leap, Rider bounded into the air. Lifting her arm, she shot out her chain, which caught in one of the steel girders. As they swung in an arc, it began to retract, pulling them up, until they were soaring upwards, giving Shiro a dizzying sensation that made him sure they were flying.

Brief as it was, they crested the top, hanging weightless for a moment. And then, just as he was beginning to worry that they were about to fall, she reached out her other arm, loosing another chain, and the dizzying sense of acceleration began all over again. By now they were several stories up. A glance over his shoulder gave him an impressive view of the intersection below, its sidewalks teeming with people while its streets were lit up with the illumination of the car headlights as they drove past.

"Uwah!" he called, startled at suddenly finding himself so high off of the ground.

"It's probably best if you don't look down."

Dutifully, Shiro averted his eyes. The only problem was, if he didn't look down, the only other place he could look was forward, which gave him an excellent view of Rider's back. Her shoulders and neck were very shapely, and he already had his arms around her waist – looking at her while she was pressed against him like this was almost more embarrassment than he could take.

As if to tease him, her long purple hair trailed back, tickling his nose as it wafted past, filling the air with the scent of her shampoo.

"Lavender – " he thought to himself. "It figures."

Overhead, the stars twinkled, each pull of the chain bringing them nearer as they raced their reflection in the mirrored glass tiles that covered the side of the building. It took several minutes, but presently they came to the top.

"Does Sakura travel with you like this?"

"All of the time."

"Good grief, she's braver than I thought", Shiro mused to himself. All of this time, he'd imagined Sakura to be something of a scaredy cat. But if she did this on a regular basis, she must have nerves of steel. The upper floor of the penthouse looked out over a beautiful garden. Shiro glanced around at the various trees and potted plants, surprised at the charm of the place.

"So – why exactly are you helping me?" he asked as Rider made her way over to the double doors.

"I already told you, I'm not helping *you*. My only goal is to protect Miss Sakura. Nothing more."

Shiro beamed.

"Sakura's really lucky to have a friend like you."

His words made Rider pause, her hand lingering over the handle of the door.

"It's not that . . . It's just – I know what it feels like to be punished unfairly for something so simple as love – a love that's deemed inappropriate by someone else –"

Just then they heard the opening of one of the bedroom doors.

"Remember – stick to the plan. When you see Mistress, tell her that – "

Sakura's voice came to them through the glass. Even though it was muffled, Rider could tell that it sounded anxious, and high pitched. As Shiro listened, he could hear another, lower voice mixed in with it. A male voice. And a singsong laugh.

"Shit! They weren't supposed to be here!"

"What are we going to do?"

Rider looked from Shiro to the window, then back to Shiro again. By now Sakura had come into the living room, whirling with her hands down at her sides, clearly angry.

Shiro flexed his fingers.

"Trace – o – "

Before he could finish his spell, Rider reached up and undid the clasp that held her mask.

"Rider, what are you – "

The sudden sight of her red eyes was mesmerizing. He'd never seen her face uncovered before, and he'd never expected to – certainly not here and now – not like this. It was stunning – as if she had suddenly disrobed to stand naked before him. The result was a kind of paralysis.

As their eyes met, he felt a sudden tension. A thrill ran through him, galvanizing his every nerve. He tried to move his feet, but found them heavy, so heavy he could not lift them from the floor. Already the sensation was spreading – up his legs, past his knees, and onto his thighs.

It took hold of his hands as well, starting at the extremities of his fingers, making them stiff, before crawling up his arms, across his shoulders, to where they met in the middle, fanning out, reaching up towards his neck and down to his heart.

"Ri – der – " he called, using his last breath, still unable to look away. The sight of her was just too beautiful, for this was the Medusa's curse, and the gorgon's gift.

And then the spell was complete.

"Rider!"

Sakura shrieked, seeing the stone Shiro on the other side of the glass. Rider looked up, giving her a warning look that made Sakura's own blood start to harden in her veins.

"Urk!"

By now Assassin was sprinting towards them, with Zouken not far behind.

"I'm sorry, Mistress," Rider said, making a small bow after she had finished replacing her mask. "I found him here on the balcony. I thought he was planning to ambush us, so – "

Zouken interrupted her with a laugh.

"Hmm – hmm – hmm – hmm – " he chuckled, tapping the statue with his staff, admiring the clinking sound that it made.

"How on earth do you suppose he got up here?"

"I don't know", Rider said, bowing again. "It was probably some peculiar ability of his. He seems to have quite a few of them."

Zouken laughed again.

"Hmm – hmm – mmm – mmm – Well no matter. However he got here, he certainly has saved us a lot of trouble – "

And with this he drew back his cane.

Sakura's face went wild. Using every ounce of strength she had, she fought to restrain her emotions, and push the deadness back into her eyes.

"No – Wait . . ."

Her voice was even and calm, though inwardly she wanted to scream.

"Wait . . ."

Slowly she stalked towards the stone statue that had been Shiro.

"I think I like him like this – "

Reaching out her arm, she touched the line of his hair, then leaned in close, pressing herself against him.

"Yes – I think I'll keep him right here – in my garden – as a reminder of my own weakness – "

Zouken smiled wickedly.

"Hmm – you're too good for the likes of that fool, Tokiomi. He gave away the wrong daughter! Keep it up, and I might really make you my grandchild after all", he said, making his way back to the sliding door.

"Yes, this is all very interesting. I think I'll let things play out a while longer. Very well – once again, I leave you to your own devices. But – " he cautioned, laying his yellowed hand on the handle. "Don't try to deceive me."

"SHIRO!"

Rin screamed from her place on the rooftop of the building across the street, where she'd been watching, and saw the whole thing.

"Wait – "

There was something so commanding in Kiritsugu's tone, so imperious, that it might have been a Command Seal. His words were like frost, spreading out along the ground, freezing her to the spot, so that she could not move, and dared not disobey.

"I mean – what was Shiro even DOING there?"

"I'm sure if we wait, we'll find out." Kiritsugu had been watching too, and he'd seen everything – Shiro's conversation with Rider, her sudden agitation at the appearance of Zouken and Assassin, Sakura's strained performance – all through the scope of his rifle.

Rin looked at him hesitantly.

"Well – I don't care – I'm going – "

She looked at him a moment more, then hurried down the stairs, leaving Archer to stare briefly before hurrying after her. Illya watched them go, unsure of what she should do.

"Don't worry about them", Kiritsugu said, not bothering to look up as he continued to survey the situation. "We can protect Shiro much better from over here than they can from over there."

His Walther was a strange contraption, boxy in appearance, its design inspired by the events of a particular tragedy, and meant to prevent others, though capable of engendering tragedies of its own, depending on its wielder's intentions. Kiritsugu had set it up with its bipod resting on the edge of the stone wall that surrounded the roof of the building. From here he commanded a position that could survey the entire battlefield.

Carefully he adjusted the scope, making the crosshairs flit from target to target. The clip was strangely positioned, being seated behind the handle. It had five shots – one for Sakura, Rider, Assassin, and Zouken – enough to kill everyone currently on the roof, plus one extra in case of a miss – thought Illya could not imagine that her Father would miss.

There was a kind of horror to it, the idea that with a pull of his finger he could instantly snuff out any one of them. Ever since he had used Caster's Rule Breaker to dispel his Madness Enhancement, he had ceased to function as a Berserker. Illya wondered if this was what it truly meant to be an Assassin. But that didn't quite fit either. From their present position, wielding the power of life and death, he didn't seem to survey the battlefield, so much as rule over it.

For a moment she wondered why he didn't simply take out all of them. The thought chilled her, but as she considered, the answer became clear. Sakura and Rider were standing together – no doubt so that Rider could protect her Master. But that closeness actually made them vulnerable. It would be easy to kill them both – with the first shot going to Rider, and a quick follow up to Sakura before she could comprehend what had happened.

Zouken and Assassin, on the other hand, were far apart. The old man lingered near Sakura, leering as he spoke, while Assassin had taken up a position at the far end of the roof. Her Father was a Servant, with supernatural quickness and accuracy, and probably a host of other abilities she couldn't even guess at. Illya had no doubt that he could have taken out either of them with a single shot.

But that distance meant that whoever he killed first, the other would have time to react. If he killed Assassin, Zouken would have time to escape, or threaten someone else. On the other hand, Assassin was a Servant too, and Illya did not doubt that if his Master was killed, he would retaliate by quickly killing everyone else.

Kiritsugu took a deep breath. The choices weren't good, but he didn't like to maintain a completely neutral footing, either. With a bit of reluctance, he decided to focus on the most dangerous target first, and fixed his sights on the old man. He adjusted the focus slightly, zeroing in closer for more detail, but not so close that he couldn't quickly switch targets if he needed to.

Opening his mouth, he uttered something imperceptible. Feeling time stagnate around her, Illya realized it was the words of a spell. She felt things slow, until even her own heartbeat came to a stop. Nothing – no motion could possibly spoil the perfection of his shot. And then, once the bullet left the muzzle, time would slam back forward again, like a firing pin, or the hammer of a gun, moving straight past normal, and into acceleration as he moved to acquire the next target, only to slow down again.

Illya held her breath – or she would have, were the spell not already holding it for her.

Kiritsugu's finger flexed against the trigger, ready to breath out a whispering death.

But there was no need.

As quickly as he had appeared, Zouken smiled, then turned and disappeared back through the double doors again. Assassin followed, leaving Sakura and Rider alone with Shiro on the roof.

Illya breathed a sigh of relief, feeling her blood start moving as the time around them returned to normal, and her heart started pumping again.

That was when Saber burst through the door.

"WHY YOU TREACHEROUS LITTLE BITCH!"

She was dressed in a black evening gown, reminiscent of the old blue dress she used to wear. But something about her had clearly changed. Instead of the large, puffed shoulders, her new outfit had no sleeves, doing away with them altogether, leaving her arms bare, while the body was deeply scalloped, with a diamond pattern that showed off her chest and navel. A pair of broad cutouts on either side clearly showed the line of her hips, while a pair of black strings hinted at what was underneath.

The skirt was split up either side daringly high, leaving only a narrow strip in the middle that did less to cover her legs than it did to emphasize the space between them. A pair of black stockings covered her feet.

In a rage, she looked at the stone Shiro, then at Sakura, and let out a roar that would have made a lion tremble.

"Saber, I – "

Sakura tried to explain, but Rider more rightly guessed the situation, and lashed out with her iron spike, giving her Master a chance to escape, for she could see in Saber's eyes that there would be no chance of negotiation.

"I should have done this from the beginning!" she shouted, making a broad stroke that narrowly missed taking Rider's head off. "I could have killed you at any time, but now you leave me no choice – NO MORE MERCY!"

Rider lashed again, looping her chain around the black sword in an effort to ensnare her, but Saber reached over the guard, and taking hold of the links, whirled them overhead, tossing Rider into the air like a rag doll, bringing her around until she crashed into Sakura, causing both of them to fall together in a crumpled heap.

"I'm going to hang you with that chain! Then hack down your Master's limbs lengthwise, until all the blood and filth runs out – I'll chop her up until there's not enough for that old man to feed his worms with what's left!"

"Mis – tress . . ."

Rider gasped, crawling forward to put herself between Saber and her Master.

Saber's eyes narrowed.

"You have some honor at least – I'll spare you the shame of having to watch your Master die – by killing you first!"

And here she hefted the black sword – only to be interrupted as Rin and Archer burst through the door.

Saber glared. But Rin had learned her lesson from her fight with Illya. Without hesitation she took her largest gem and tossed it in Saber's face, making her leap to the side to avoid having her head blown off.

Dodging the explosion brought her into contact with Archer. There was a brief flurry of blades, but with nowhere to go and no room for him to evade, she quickly won the exchange. Turning the broad blade, she wrenched one of his swords out of his hand, then gripping the hilt with both hands, smashed it against the other, so that it shattered, leaving him holding only the empty handle.

"EX – " she shouted, couching the black blade at her side as she began to gather power.

"You fool!" Archer called, trying to reach out to her. "If you use it here, you'll destroy the entire building!"

"I DON'T CARE! CAL – "

She continued, a black wind forming around the blade, leaving tarred streaks and smudges on the apartment's walls. As she lifted it over her head, the wind became a tornado, blowing out all of glass doors and windows.

" . . . . . "

Out in the garden there was a rumble. The statue that had been Shiro erupted as the boy came tumbling out, falling to his knees while bits of stone landed all around him.

"SHIRO!

At once the whirlwind dispersed.

Across the street, the scope of Kiritsugu's rifle glimmered. The muzzle flared, filling the rooftop with a thunderous report as it hurled a shot that struck the black Excalibur directly in the place where the hilt and cross guard met, taking the blade cleanly out of her hands.

"Trace – on – " Archer said, making the twin swords reappear.

By now Rider had gotten to her feet again, holding the sharp spike at the end of her chain, while Rin lifted her hand, showing a red jewel between each of her fingers. From the neighboring rooftop, the glass lens of Kiritsugu's scope glinted.

Saber looked at Rin, then at Archer, then Rider and Sakura. And then at Shiro.

And then she bolted.

Shoving Archer out of the way, she ran past him, through the double doors, out onto the rooftop. Kiritsugu's rifle cracked. Planting her foot, she vaulted to the right, out of the way, letting the bullet streak past her to split the concrete tiles that enclosed the penthouse.

Without flinching, Kiritsugu worked the bolt, cycling the action, not once taking his eyes off of the target. Saber was several steps nearer now, and it seemed certain he could not miss. But at the last instant she veered left, springing away. Maybe it was her supernatural senses as a Servant, or some secret skill of the Saber class, or maybe there was some residual effect from the Fourth Holy Grail War, when he had been her Master, some lingering attachment that still connected them – but whatever it was, it seemed she was able to read his thoughts, for at the very last moment she darted left, letting the bullet shatter the glass and lodge itself in the apartment wall.

Two more quick steps, and then she bounded, leaping up to fill his cross hairs –

And then plunged over the side of the wall.

"The crazy bitch!" Kiritsugu shouted, rearing up, raising the stock of his rifle as he pointed down in an effort to track her.

Putting her fingers to the corners of her mouth, she let out a loud whistle.

"Dullahan!"

With a snarl the motorcycle appeared beneath her. At first Illya couldn't see how this did any good. She and the bike were both still falling, and would only perish together. But the moment she came to rest against the seat, her hands gripped the handlebars, and she pushed forward. Suddenly the axis of gravity shifted. As the front wheel met the mirrored glass, she rolled the throttle back, making the engine roar, and took off headlong, down the side of the building.

Kiritsugu fought to draw a bead on her, but there was no way to keep the scope focused, so he took out his machine pistol, and resorted to spraying rounds over the side of the building, shattering the glass all around her as she zigged and zagged in a slaloming descent. Nearing the bottom, she pulled up into a wheelie, the tires slamming against the ground before squealing as she roared off.

Kiritsugu leaned up and out until he nearly fell over the edge, but he could not track her so close to the building. Rounding the corner, she wrapped around, hugging the concrete wall, then turned again, darting into an alley, and disappeared.

For a moment Kiritsugu glared. And then he smashed his fist against concrete railing with a sudden violence.

"THAT – INSUFFERABLE – "

His eyes met Illya's, and he realized that she was watching and listening to him.

" – WOMAN!" he finished, as if he could think of no better insult.

From his place across the street, Archer laughed.

"She does tend to have that effect on people . . ."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I think so – "

Shiro dusted himself off after getting up from the floor. His skin was still pale, and his limbs were quite stiff, so that he spent several moments massaging them to make sure he wasn't still made of stone.

"I'm – sorry – " Rider said, hanging her head and looking very melancholy. "When Mistress appeared and I saw that she wasn't alone, I panicked. I remembered that you had an unusual healing ability, and I figured that the magical artifact inside of you would protect you from being injured. I – didn't see any other way . . ."

"And what if it hadn't worked!?" Rin demanded. "What then?"

"I – would have allowed Mistress to kill me . . ."

"Hey!" Shiro interrupted, trying to get Rider to lift her head. "There's no need for any of that. I mean – it all worked out in the end."

Rin scowled.

"Easy for YOU to say! You weren't the one who was worried sick! We were scared half to death!"

"And YOU weren't the one who got turned to STONE!"

As they squabbled, Archer took advantage of the opportunity to go through the drawers of Saber's nightstand.

"What are you doing!?" Rin shouted, redirecting her wrath. "You can't just go through a girl's things!"

"Why not? She's the enemy", he retorted, shifting to the dresser and chest of drawers.

"That's private! Next thing I know, you'll be going through her underwear drawer! Just what are you hoping to find, anyway?"

"Credit cards – receipts – bank statements – anything that will give us a clue as to her whereabouts, or her intentions – "

His voice trailed off as he picked up a black garment from off of the bed. At first he had thought it was a robe, and meant to go through the pockets, but as it unrolled it became clear that it was actually a nightgown. It was made of black satin, the upper half being nothing more than a pair of large ribbons – barely enough to cover each breast – hanging down from a halter top, while the bottom was a small skirt, very short and decidedly frilly looking.

As he stared, a small black bundle tumbled out, spreading across the bed to reveal a pair of black lace panties.

"I – "

"Yes – I'm sure that's all very important to your research!"

Archer recoiled, tossing the offending garment back on the bed.

While they fought, Shiro took a moment to look around the place. The room was massive, with a king size bed whose sheets and blankets were rather hastily made, still rather wrinkled and lumpy looking. Clothes were strewn along the floor, while a collection of plastic bags and Styrofoam containers piled beside the desk bore silent witness to what looked like several days' worth of take out dinners and convenience store lunches.

Seeing them, Shiro smiled sadly.

"I – don't think Saber's cut out for living by herself . . ."

"What's that?" Rin asked, looking up from their argument.

" . . . It's nothing."

"Don't give me that – "

"Look, I – "

"You were thinking about *her*."

"It isn't like that – "

"Shiro . . . "

"I'm sure that Saber would never do anything to actually hurt us – "

"Shiro – "

"I'm sure that if I can just talk to her, she'll – "

"Shiro!" Rin shouted

" – What?"

"Look – it's not that I think you're wrong . . . or even that I disagree with you . . . It's just – before you say anything else, there's someplace I'd like to go –"

"Where?"

"There's someone I'd like you to meet . . ."

"Oh bloody hell!" Lancer shouted. "What do you think we're doin' – runnin' a bloomin' café!?"

"Silence!" Caster scolded. "I won't have you or anyone else give any insult to my hospitality! Or else this time I really shall turn you into a frog."

"You old witch . . ." Lancer grumbled, no longer bothering to even try to hide his hostility.

They were seated around a table in one of the gardens at Ryudo Temple. Shiro was sitting next to Illya, with Sakura sitting next to them, while Rider stood behind her – no matter how they tried, she could not be persuaded to take a seat. Their whole group was rather awkward looking, with Issei and Lancer standing off to one side in attendance.

Rin, on the other hand, looked exceedingly comfortable. She was seated at the end, lounging in her chair with her legs crossed and one elbow resting on the table. If anything, she and Caster seemed to have gotten downright chummy.

"I know I said it before, but I really DO like what you've done with the place" she said, reaching out her hand so that Lancer could refill her glass with fresh tea – which he did, but not without his fair share of cussing and grumbling.

'I especially like the sakura tree – it's magnificent – but how on earth did you get it to bloom this early? It's still several months too soon."

"Oh that?" Caster asked nonchalantly. "It's magic, my dear. I cast a thermal spell, mixed with an invocation of the four winds that set up convection currents to give a kind of greenhouse effect. It's a simple thing, really – I mean, after all, if I couldn't control something so weak and beggarly as the elements, or manipulate the seasons then what sort of witch would I be?"

Shiro listened to them banter, doing his best to keep up. The tree behind them certainly was magnificent, reaching one of its long, weeping willow-like arms out over the table where it dropped pretty pink and white petals, mixing them in with the napkins and the silverware of the place settings.

The table itself was round, made of wrought iron painted white, and pierced with cutouts in a distinctive floral pattern. It was very pretty looking, and together with the delicate porcelain and glass made for quite a contrast, but there was something about seeing the fragile cups and plates against the backdrop of the heavy iron table that made Shiro nervous.

"Speaking of manipulation", Rin asked, "I was wondering about what you'd said. About being able to make the Grail appear, even without all of the Servants."

"Ah, that – " Caster said, putting down her tea. "I've been looking into it, and I'm not altogether sure if this Zeltrech fellow was a genius – or an idiot."

"Aren't all men both?"

"Oh no, my dear", Caster answered with a laugh. "Most of them are just idiots."

"I suppose that's true", Rin said with a glance in Shiro's direction.

"But no matter. Whatever the case, he certainly was eccentric. The ritual itself is actually rather simple. Not the summoning part, mind you, with the Servants and their Classes – that part's all fairly complex. But the Grail itself is not all that sophisticated. It's really not even a cup – more like a giant funnel.

'You pour energy into it until it develops its own gravity, and starts to feed under its own weight. At that point, once enough magic energy amasses, the spell activates. It doesn't particularly care where the energy comes from – it's designed to feed off the Servants system, but if you can bypass that mechanism, once you feed it enough energy, the Grail will appear."

"However if one were to feed it too much – " Rin said, cutting her eyes in a sideways glance at Shiro.

Caster lifted her chin in a gesture that emphasized the high, thin quality of her features.

"Are you sure?"

Rin peered over the rim of her glass, then nodded.

With a wave, Caster lifted her arm, raising her staff with it. At once the same image from the other day appeared, that of a map rimmed with fire, and as its backdrop, a picture of Fuyuki, with the entire city in flames.

Shiro recoiled in horror.

"What the hell is this?"

"So you see, Shiro – " Rin said, when Caster had finished speaking. "This is why we have to stop her. It isn't because she's bad, or evil. She's my friend too, you know? It's just –

'You wanted to be a Hero of Justice, right? To save everyone? Only if we don't do something – there won't be anyone left to save –

' So that's why – we have to stop her – we just – have to . . ."

When they got back to the house, Rin was quick to relieve Shiro of his domestic duties.

"I'll make dinner!" she announced, heading into the kitchen before anyone could protest. For a moment she eyed the two aprons hanging on the hook by the counter. And then she helped herself to the purple one (that was supposed to be Sakura's), slipping it over her head before cinching the ties around her waist.

"Tohsaka . . ." Shiro said, as she set about running the water in the sink.

"What?"

"Don't think I don't know what you're trying to do."

"Why Shiro, whatever can you mean?"

Shiro sighed to himself.

"Rin is always so good to me", he thought as she busied herself about the plates. "Whenever something is difficult, she always does everything she can to help make things easier. It's actually very sweet . . ."

For a moment he drifted off, lost in a sea of reflectiveness.

"Wait a minute – the fact that she does these things means that she KNOWS how much of a mess all of this is, and that she does it on purpose! And the fact that she plans it all out in advance means she knows exactly what she's doing – it's premeditated! That isn't sweet at all!"

"I've put Mistress to bed", Rider said, interrupting his thoughts.

"Oh, yes – "

"It was a very stressful day for her, so I thought it would be good for her to retire early. And I – shall also take my leave . . . "

Shiro nodded.

"Of course."

"I'm taking a bath!" Illya announced, after dinner was finished.

Shiro had been going to take a bath himself, but he was happy to let her go first – he'd planned to ask her anyway. And so it was that he found himself waiting in the hall, over by the old wooden tansu cabinet.

"All done!" Illya announced after what seemed like only a few minutes later.

"Already?"

"Mmm – hmm!"

She greeted him in the hall wearing a beautiful kimono that looked like it would have been more appropriate for a summer festival than winter, with pretty purple flowers against a pastel lavender background.

"I wanted you to have plenty of hot water, so I made it quick."

"But that didn't mean that YOU had to hurry – "

"It's fine! Anyways, there's plenty of hot water left, so take your time."

Shiro arched an eyebrow. Tohsaka was one thing.

"She's always scheming", he thought.

But Rider and now Illya? Everyone was being entirely too accommodating, and that alone was enough to make him uncomfortable, not to mention trying to to decipher what it meant that Illya had insinuated herself so far into his life that she even kept her own bathing yukata at his house, but the lure of the hot water was great, so he decided for the moment at least not to worry too much about it.

The sight of the plastic bath chair where she had just sat made him woozy, and the idea of her bare skin resting against it while she lathered the soap all over herself made him light headed.

"I wonder if Illya and I will ever bathe together?" The thought embarrassed him, so he quickly rinsed off, and went to the bath and got in.

The hot water felt wonderful, but as soon as he'd settled, his senses were assaulted by a new revelation. Illya had just been in the bath moments before – he imagined some of this heat very well could have been the warmth of her own body. And that meant that this same water had just been swimming around every inch of her – every crack and crevice – and THAT meant that by sharing the same bath water, it was only one step removed from her pressing herself up against him. Naked.

"Oh! You didn't want to take a very long bath either?"

Illya greeted him in the hall, still wearing her kimono.

"It's not that, it's – I, uh – "

Mercifully she changed the subject.

"Oh! I do so love wearing a yukata!" she said, twirling to show off her sleeves. "It's like going to a festival. Now if only we had a ping pong table – it would be like we really were at a hot spring."

Shiro was wearing a kimono of his own, an old blue one, rather plain, and well worn, but very comfortable.

"Here!" she said, sipping a bottle of cold water as she handed him a cup of hot tea.

As she led the way back to the hall, he wondered why she had given him a hot drink after an already piping hot bath. And then he caught sight of the figure on the other side of the sliding doors. It was only a silhouette, but there could be no mistake – the broad shoulders, the way he held his head, with that vague jumble of hazy hair, indistinct, wafting off into space, like the hint of ideas and possibilities, so different from the very concrete realities of the man beneath it.

Shiro froze.

"Illya – "

"Go – " she said softly.

"But – "

He turned to find her looking at him, questioning his hesitation.

"You – don't want to see him?"

"It's not that, I – "

"You're scared of what he'll say?"

Shiro shook his head.

"It's just – I don't want to be in the way – "

"In the way? Shiro, you could never possibly be – "

"Look – I know how important this is to you, so – I just want the two of you to be able to spend as much time together as possible – "

"Shiro – " Illya said, clasping her hands together in front of her. "Dad and I have been together this whole time. Ever since the war started – even as a Berserker, he couldn't speak, but – I could see his thoughts – I could see what he was thinking – and feel what he was feeling . . . And it's been wonderful . . . But you haven't got to spend any time with him at all."

"I know, but – "

"Go – " she said, shooing him away with her fingers.

'After all," she added, closing the double doors behind him. "He's your Father too, you know –"

"Illya, that's – "

Illya's comment was downright incestuous. But considering that he had been lusting over her bath water only moments before, Shiro felt he was in no position to judge. And for the moment, he had other concerns. The doors were shut behind him, leaving him out on the porch where it wrapped about the back of the house, opening up to the courtyard beyond.

It was just like that other night had been, and so for the second time since this war began, Shiro wondered if he was reliving the same night, from all those years ago, or if he had never really left. The familiar figure at the end of the wooden deck also wore a kimono, folded a bit sloppily, and wrinkled, just like he had looked that day he came to pick Shiro up from the hospital. But when he smiled, it was that same smile from that night – the one Shiro had seen amidst the flames, and knew would come to define his future – his destiny.

"I'm – sorry for getting you mixed up in all of this . . ."

Shiro took a drink of the hot tea, grateful for Illya's presence, even if indirectly. He breathed out, admiring the sight of his frozen breath against the winter stars. And then he eased himself down at the other end of the porch.

"You know . . . I used to wonder why you said what you did at the hospital that day – about being a Mage. That seemed like the sort of thing you were supposed to keep secret and not tell anybody – not on the first day at least.

'I didn't know it at the time, but now I realize what you were trying to say. I think that you were trying to warn me, that by going with you I was never going to have a normal life. But then again, I was never going to have a normal life again anyway."

"I'm – sorry son . . . "

Shiro looked over.

"Why? I'm not – Ever since that day, my life has been touched by things like magic, and magecraft. Because of you, I got to meet people like Saber, and Sakura, and Rin – and Illya . . . And for that, I am really and truly grateful . . ."

"So then – what do you intend to do?"

Shiro lowered his gaze toward the horizon.

"Defeat the Grail. I don't want to make a wish – I intend to complete the ritual – to make the Grail appear – and then destroy it."

Kiritsugu recoiled in horror.

"You can't – "

"Why not?"

"You more than anyone ought to know why. It doesn't work that way – Saber and I tried that during the Fourth Grail War, and – you know the result . . ."

"I can't undo the damage of the first four Grail Wars – or the Fifth one. But I want to make sure it doesn't happen again. There has to be a way – With the Grail gone, they'll be safe – Saber and Rin and Sakura and Illya – they won't have to fight anymore. The whole city – if we dismantle the Grail, the Mages Association won't have any more interest in Fuyuki – or Japan – we'll send them all the way back to the Clock Tower – And then – "

Kiritsugu shook his head.

"What you're talking about, son – what you describe is trying to save everyone in Fuyuki City – and for that matter all of Japan, and quite possibly the world – for all of time. It's not possible to live your life that way."

"Yeah – maybe not . . . Hey Dad, I just realized – the fact that Illya was able to summon you means that the Grail considered you a Heroic Spirit. That means you did it – you actually became a Hero of Justice!"

"I'm not a hero of anything . . ."

"That's not true – when the Fourth War happened, when you and Saber destroyed the Grail, you saved so many people – "

"That isn't how it was. We prevented one disaster by causing another."

"I guess it's a matter of scale – you caused one smaller disaster to stop another, much bigger one – "

"Shiro – that doesn't sound like you at all. That sounds – dangerously close to my old way of thinking – "

"Don't get me wrong. I haven't given up on trying to save everyone. But – sometimes you just have to do the best you can. Even if you think that isn't good enough."

"The disaster in Fuyuki City – I would think that you most of all would have reason to resent me because of that . . ."

"The Grail lies to everyone. It's the Grail I won't forgive. Besides – you saved me, didn't you?"

Shiro smiled at Kiritsugu good naturedly.

"Yes, I suppose I did. In the end, I think that saved us both."

It was early the next morning when Shiro went to knock on the door of the guest bedroom that Rin had made her temporary home away from home and de facto headquarters while she was staying at Emiya House. Usually she had already gotten dressed and put up her hair by the time she came down to breakfast, so seeing her like this, first thing in the morning, with her hair down, and still wearing her yellow gown and pajamas took both of them back a little.

Her first impulse was to give him a piece of her mind, and quite possibly a piece of her fist to go along with it. But Shiro never came to see her this early, and moreover, though she did not like to admit it, she secretly liked for him to see her this way, so instead she sat at the foot of the bed while he stood across from her, and waited to see what he had to say.

"I've been thinking . . ."

Rin fought the temptation to ask if that was a good idea, for the moment at least.

"Go on."

" . . . About what kinds of opponents have been difficult for Saber in the past. In her time it was Mordred who defeated her, but she did it by dividing the Round Table against her over Guinivere and Lancelot. Saber doesn't have a Round Table this time, so that won't work. She and Sakura used to be allies, but I'm pretty sure even then that Saber knew she could defeat her and Rider any time she wanted to.

'In the more recent Grail War, she had a great deal of trouble with Berserker. But Dad's not a typical Berserker. He's very strong, but he's never favored a direct approach. Lancer was probably our best choice, but without his Noble Phantasm, I don't think he stands much of a chance."

"Well that doesn't sound very promising", Rin said, a bit crossly, hoping he hadn't come to see her so early over nothing.

"But – there was one opponent who nearly fought Saber to a standstill."

"Who?"

"A man who never existed . . ."