Hello and sorry for the extremely late chapter! No, I haven't forgotten this story, though I may be rewriting it entirely at some point in time in the future; read the past few a little and they kinda irked me, so…
Anyway, without further ado, here's chapter 14, and Merry Christmas!
"I'm sorry, nii-san."
The same words, the same expression, the same hollow tone. They meant nothing, conveyed nothing, and like her, meant absolutely nothing to him.
Perhaps, if he had been born into a normal family, the child called Matou Shinji might have been different. Maybe, if either of his parents had been more capable of producing a child proficient with magecraft, the talentless boy might have been someone else.
Perhaps, if the person called Matou Sakura did not exist, he could have had the recognition he deserved.
From the very beginning, he was painfully mundane. He knew that he was incapable of performing sorcery of any sort, but he refused to acknowledge that fact; despite clearly showing no such signs, he told himself that he was special, gifted, and that he was the only rightful successor to the prestigious Matou family. Somewhere along the way, he actually ended up believing it. He actually ended up living that lie.
"I'm sorry, nii-san."
Again with the same line. Again with the same expression. She was nothing more than an outsider – someone who had absolutely nothing to do with the Matous – and yet she was the one taking pity on him. Him, the Matou family's elite and only qualified successor, was being looked down upon by a random girl adopted from some random place. A random girl whom he had once treated as his sister (even if he showed it in less conventional ways).
"N-nii-san, w-what are-"
"Shut up! Shut up!"
Ignoring her protests and utter bewilderment, Matou Shinji let his frustration fuel his body's movements, tearing at Sakura's clothes without remorse. Her panic failed to deter him even the slightest, and her fear merely urged him on to further abuse the helpless girl in his grasp. For her, there was no escape, no other option, no salvation. All she could do, and all Matou Sakura ever did, was give in and let him have his way.
He had believed it to be his triumph, that her lack of resistance was a sign of submission. He had believed, like he had done many years ago, in the lie that he deserved more. He had, once more, deceived himself with nothing more than a childish fantasy.
Look at me.
He knew that the man known as Zouken would not acknowledge him. He knew that the old man, weak and fragile as he appeared to be, was in no way going to accept his ability without solid results.
Acknowledge me.
"Just you wait and see," he remembered swearing under his breath, the Book of False Attendant clasped tightly in one hand. "I'll make you recognize my talent. Just you wait."
Praise me.
What the miserable excuse of a magus had was nothing more than a desperate wish. What he sought was nothing more than what any child would have wanted from their parents. Their family. What he wanted was, simply, to be seen.
Driven by nothing more than misplaced delusions of grandeur, Matou Shinji entered the Holy Grail War.
"… Who are you?"
In response to his clearly disgusted tone, the cloaked woman merely chuckled.
"Even with an enemy before you, you're not on your guard?" she mused, speaking more to herself than to Shinji. "But worry not, young man; I mean you no harm."
"… A Servant?" Shinji took a step back, the arrogance slightly draining from his voice. "H-hmph. O-of course you can't be my enemy; no one can beat my Rider after all. Besides, you don't know the situation you're in, do you? I could turn you into a puddle of blood in an instant!"
"You feel no need to conceal your trump card?" Caster asked. "Though, it's not as if this bounded field can be considered a trump card anyway…"
Pausing briefly to relish the effect her words had on Shinji, Caster went on in a tone that was equal parts condescending and mocking:
"But, well, I didn't come here to declare war," she told him. "On the contrary, I'm here to offer an alliance."
"… An alliance?" Shinji repeated under his breath. Caster briefly wondered if the child was simply slow on the uptake. "H-ha! Of course you weaklings would want to pair up with brilliant people like me! But don't get all cocky, bitch; I don't need weaklings like you on my side!"
Caster resisted the urge to laugh. Surely, no decent magus could be this clueless, but it was all far too realistic to be an act. Perhaps this fool was here simply for her to manipulate like the tool he was.
"Oh?" she said, the slightest hint of curiostiy escaping her lips. "Then you must already have a means to prevent your Servant from being stolen, I take it?"
"… W-what're you talking about?" Shinji stuttered. "S-stealing my Servant? A-as if such a thing is possible…"
"My, is that so?" Caster asked, chuckling. "To think a Master without proper Command Seals would think such a thing…"
Shinji froze.
"It's just a simple observation," she said loftily. "No need to get so worked up. But then again, the entire Holy Grail War is nothing more than a large scale ritual, which makes the Servant system nothing more than a glorified spell. As such, transfer of Master rights isn't all that unthinkable.
"So, naturally, stealing said rights shouldn't be impossible either."
Shinji did not retort, instead going completely silent as he contemplated her words. As infuriating as she was, this woman did speak some sense. As unlikely as it was (and as complexing as it was for her to know how he was a Master in the first place), there was certainly a possibility that what she said was true. And no matter what he said or did, Matou Shinji knew he was no match for another Servant without one of his own.
"It seems you understand the danger of such a scenario," Caster said. "Then, can I assume that you would be willing to cooperate with me to take out this threat?"
"… So you're saying that there's someone in this War who can steal Servants?" Shinji asked.
"Indeed," Caster replied. As much as she could not understand it, the silver-haired girl she saw that night had surely invoked Rule Breaker – Caster's own Noble Phantasm – and was able to somehow steal Lancer from his Master. Whatever she was, she was now an official Master, and she was undoubtedly a threat in this Holy Grail War. "I've witnessed it with my own eyes. She will definitely become a force to be reckoned with if left alone. What will it be, young Master?"
"… Alright, I get it," Shinji said at last, after what felt like an eternity of silence. "I'll work with you."
I'm sorry, nii-san.
"But if you ever dare think of betraying me,"
Surely this mere familiar, too, was looking down on him. Mocking him. Underestimating him. That was why when he emerged victorious over her and her scheming, worthless Master, they would come to understand that Matou Shinji was not some random pushover.
"I'll show you no mercy," he spat.
The shrieks of clashing metal shook the air, leaving in their wake a heavy, powerful echo. Even if they lasted barely a fraction of a second, and even though they were nothing more than remnants of blows crossed what felt like ages ago, the echoes still rang clearly in the ears of mere humans whose eyes could not keep up.
"This is…" Miyu paused, the remainder of her sentence dying in her throat. The level of combat happening before her was, if anything, impossible. No human – be they magus or transformed magical girls – was capable of movements like those. It just was not possible.
And yet, it was happening right then and there.
When she had stepped in to help Kuro, she had had every intention of defeating the enemy on her own. She had even entertained the thought of getting some answers on who the stranger cloaked in red was, but was soon shown just how foolish she had been.
To say that he was simply stronger was an understatement. After simply exchanging a few blows, it was apparent that he was on an entirely different level. If not for the timely intervention of Saber (and something about Archer that Miyu could not quite place), Miyu would have been slaughtered with ease.
"What're you doing, spacing out like that?" Kuro asked, her fingers clasped tightly around her favored swords (which, oddly enough, looked exactly like Archer's). "It's not like you."
"… You're right," Miyu replied, getting to her feet and raising her copy of Excalibur. "We have to help Saber-san…!"
Her grip on the handle tightened. This was not the time to be awestruck or confused; it was time to strike down the enemy. Regardless of the difference in actual combat prowess, Archer was an opponent they had to defeat.
Or at least, that was what she told herself.
As inexplicable as it was, Miyu could not convince herself to do just that. No matter how clear it was that he was the enemy, and no matter how much he had beaten them before, she just could not find herself able to see Archer as a 'foe'.
Why…?
Even beneath the armor woven of prana and with a legendary sword in hand, Miyu could feel a distinct throbbing in her chest.
Why… just by looking at him…
They could not be further apart. He was kind, gentle, but Archer was cold and ruthless. He was always smiling, and always loved her dearly. But Archer, he was a stoic mask of resignation, and surely a killer who knew not of things like love.
And yet, she could not stop thinking that they were similar.
Just by looking… I'm reminded of onii-chan…?
Archer, who was engaged in a duel to the death, had no time for such idle thoughts.
The Saber Class was acknowledged, even amongst Servants, as the strongest Class (even if their pride would not let them say it). Aside from the figurative and literal wild card that was Berserker, Saber-Class Servants had a distinct advantage in combat. And if Anti-Magic, superior strength and speed were not enough, Servants of the sword had the sanity to bring out the full potential of their already polished skills. As such, fights against such Servants were never easy, and Archer was not expecting this battle to be.
Even so, Saber had exceeded all his expectations regardless.
He knew from personal experience that she was tough. Determined and unrelenting, she absolutely refused to give up in the face of any unfavorable situation. Things like a handicap because of a weak Master and fighting a foe many times her superior mattered not; she met those challenges with the air of a true warrior. Till the bitter end, she was a chivalrous King worthy of that Holy Sword. Or perhaps, that Holy Sword was worthy of her. Either way, no Heroic Spirit would have any regrets being slain by her sword, and none would feel anything but honored to defeat her in battle.
Shirou, my wish…
But maybe that was why he could not lose to her.
… is to change the fate of my beloved country.
He had no honor to uphold. He had no pride to speak of. As someone who could understand all too well the wish to undo one's past mistakes, Archer knew just how foolish it was to be bound by the same petty ideals regardless.
The sound of breaking metal interrupted his thoughts, and the glimmer of countless shards entered his vision. The reduced weight in his hands told him that his blades were now useless, so his fingers released the handles on reflex.
Justice. Peace. Happiness. It was easy to speak of those ideals, and anyone could come up with pretty words to back them up. But in the end, ideals were ideals, and there was but a fine line between acting on them and being controlled by them.
Without a single pause, a brand new pair of blades appeared in his empty hands. Objectively speaking, Archer as a male should have had the upper hand in strength. Even if he had to factor in the differences in parameters, she still could not be breaking Kanshou and Bakuya so easily.
I'm so soft, he thought. Even at times like this, I'm holding back…
He took a step sideways. It was a small motion, and hardly one worthy of mention in a fight, but that one movement made Saber's invisible slash miss. Naturally, it was not enough to throw her off balance, but it gave Archer the opening he needed.
I didn't take all those beatings from you for nothing, he thought, smirking a little.
Leaning forward, Archer stepped closer to Saber, standing where he had stood a split second earlier. Then, before Saber could react, he swung down with the sword in his right hand.
Saber naturally tried to counter, but realized a moment too late that she could not make it in time; while his right hand attacked, Archer had forced Saber's sword back with the second blade in his left. Even if she had enough power with her two-handed grip to break through his one-handed shortsword, there would not be enough time to parry his slash-
"Saber-san!" Miyu yelled.
She moved almost reflexively. In a movement similar to Berserker's, Saber let go of her two-handed grip on her sword, leaving only her right hand to hold its invisible handle. With her left, she brought it up, and with a resounding clang managed to block Archer's blow with her left gauntlet.
"Wha-"
Giving Archer no room to retaliate, Saber forcefully pushed aside Bakuya with her gauntlet, and slashed through Kanshou with her sword. This time, instead of hitting air or striking metal, the unmistakable feeling of flesh met her Holy Sword.
"Tch!"
Backing away from the swordswoman, Archer put some distance between them and assessed his injury. It was not a fatal wound, and something like this could be healed almost instantly by Rin.
"Not bad," he said. "Is that your 'instinct'?"
Saber did not reply. Truthfully, she had no idea how she had come up with that move either, but something from hearing Miyu's words had made her body move that way – to actually wield her sword with one hand despite never doing so in her life. She had no explanation for it, even if she was glad that it had saved her just then.
"That's my line, Archer," Saber replied. "You seem awfully familiar with my movements, or is that just my imagination?"
"Surely you jest," Archer chuckled. "If I was familiar with your movements, I wouldn't have gotten myself slashed just now. I was expecting you to back away, you know."
"Putting distance between myself and a bowman would be most foolish," Saber replied. "Besides, a knight does not retreat, Archer."
Instead of replying, Archer simply sighed. Dematerializing his shortswords, he instead produced his bow and a much dreaded sword that made Kuro shudder – Caladborg.
"Is that your so-called 'pride', Saber?" he asked, as the sword in his hand shrunk to fit the shape of an arrow. Pulling back on the string of his bow, the white-haired Servant shot her one last glare. "It truly is dazzling."
There was no awe in his voice. There was no admiration in those words. All that escaped those lips of his, were what felt like anger and sorrow. No matter how odd it sounded, that was what Saber felt hearing that sarcastic remark.
"… Do you intend to shoot me, Archer?" she asked. "At this distance, I can dodge your arrow and slice you in two before you can prepare another."
"Is that so?" Archer replied, not sounding the least bit concerned. "Then I guess you don't care what happens to the two brats behind you?"
It took Saber a moment to digest those words, and when she finally did, she froze. It had not been a matter of forgetting about Miyu and Kuro, but the very thought of harming them directly had not crossed Saber's mind.
"Stop, Archer!" she said. Even Archer had to admit she was emitting an authoritative aura just then. "You would do harm to mere children?!"
"Children or not, they're dangerous enough to be considered enemies," Archer replied calmly. "I cannot think of the ability to mimic Heroic Spirits to be something I can ignore, Saber. Surely you realize this."
"Indeed, their magecraft is most strange," Saber agreed. "However, they mean no harm and are not participants in this Holy Grail War, so they should not be targets to you! I can vouch-"
"And what good will that do?" Archer snapped. "Will words backed by your so-called 'honor' carry more credibility? Will your pride as a knight be suffice to earn a person's trust? Surely you cannot be foolish enough to think that."
"A true knight will not entertain such thoughts!" Saber retorted. "Do you not understand at least that much as a Heroic Spirit, Archer?!"
"Unfortunately, I don't," Archer said, pulling back his arrow as it began pulsating with prana. "I have no pride as a hero, you see."
With that, he released his arrow. Saber would definitely risk everything to save those two girls, so there was no need for him to see if it hit. That arrow, without a doubt, would eliminate Saber from the Holy Grail War.
-or so Archer thought, until he heard those words. Those absolutely unmistakable words.
"I am the bone of my sword."