CHAPTER ONE

Birds chirped softly, as he sat on the wooden floors of his home. Shirou felt restless - it was still too early in the morning for him to visit Hajime, he had to wait another half hour before he could leave. He ran his fingers through his snow white hair, a heavy sigh leaving him before a small, genuine smile crossed his dry lips.

Hajime.

Just the thought of her made joy bubble up in his chest. The first person he'd saved (rather, first person he saved and was still alive). A child, a young child who had lost all hope of living to see the morning light the next day.

Shirou could easily remember the emotions that hit him when he saw she was alive that day. Alive, but with blank eyes. He had cried out of happiness, as if he had been saved. The white haired man closed his eyes as he held his hand over his heart, smile widening before it turned almost nostalgic. The whole scenario was so familiar to him, and it felt like only yesterday that his own father had found him in the rubble, and pulled him out, tears falling from his chin as he whispered thanks to Shirou.

For a short moment, he wondered if this was how his father had felt when he found him - after wishing to save everyone, it seemed like a whole city had died, his hopes were crushed and he felt devastated. Desperate. But then he found a spark of hope, and he ran for it, grabbing it into his hands, and he could feel again, think straight and be able to lift some of the guilt from his own shoulders.

Then again, they had been in different situations - his father and himself. Though they were both fighting in wars, his father (adoptive father, rather,) had been in a magus involving war while he had been in, and still was in, World War Three. This magus war, which was in reality called the Holy Grail War, wasn't something Shirou wanted to get involved with, not for a second time. It only caused pain and suffering to innocents in the sidelines, and that was not something he would tolerate. However, he had been dragged into one before, and it truly messed with his head. Magecraft (one would likely call it magic, if they weren't knowledgeable in the fantasy world that they live alongside unknowingly) wasn't something he got used to very quickly, but he ignored all the laws of physics he'd learned in school in order to not get himself killed by questioning how magecraft worked.

He was forced to learn about it and how to perform it himself, and he had been using magecraft since then. Even in World War Three, where he had been pulled onto the battlefield as a soldier after America declared war on North Korea, who had stupidly shot a missile at Alaska. Unfortunately, North Korea began to involve other countries as well, and it resulted in a full out World War. Shirou himself had fought in one of the final battles, if not the final battle - the day the fire burned down the city. After taking his now adopted daughter to the infirmary, he was informed that they had successfully taken down the capital and that the war was considered over, the victory belonging to Japan and its allies; America, South Korea, Canada and Taiwan.

Shirou was relieved to say the least - no war meant that Hajime wouldn't have to go through all that all over again. It was a new beginning, a new start for a large portion of the world. And a first step for Shirou, after achieving his dream and new goal to be the best father he could. Hajime deserved a happy life, and a better home and family than she had ever had before - not that she remembered them, but still. He wanted to raise her to be a happy, kind woman.

He would not impose his dream upon her. While he had not been able to save everyone and all that he could, her life was all he needed to feel content. Once again, Shirou let out a heavy sigh before standing slowly, wincing when his legs scolded him for using them after sitting on them for so long. Straightening his back, he popped a few bones in his neck before entering his room, and glanced at the clock.

8:30.

It was time for his daily visit to the hospital.

Hajime lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her eyes were devoid of emotion as she let her thoughts wander. She wanted him to come soon - for Daddy to come soon. Shirou had looked surprised when she called him 'Papa' for the first time but the look was quickly replaced by the biggest grin she'd seen from him yet. Yes, she understood, finally, Shirou was her new father, so she would treat him as such. With respect, reverence, and love.

Love, the word felt a tad foreign to her. As someone who couldn't remember anything about their past, until the fire that is, she didn't know how valuable this affection really was, but seeing how much Shirou cared about her gave her a good idea. She had to take care of him, and make sure that he knew she loved him and appreciated him.

Over the past few weeks, Shirou had come to sit beside her bed every day, at exactly eight thirty in the morning, to simply talk to her, hold her hand and pet her hair for hours. Whenever he was with her, in the quiet, white room, she felt happy. She felt at home, safe, and loved. Hajime didn't quite understand, however, how she could possibly feel so attached to someone despite knowing them for such a short period of time.

She traced her fingers over a book in her hands - an old picture book Shirou had given her, that was in this other language that he spoke. Japanese, he called it. The word sounded familiar but she couldn't quite place her finger on it so she brushed it off. She needed to recover as quickly as she could, apparently her legs were in particularly bad shape and would need a few more days, if not weeks. But what would happen after she left? Hajime opened the picture book to the first page - it showed a couple, an elderly one at that, sitting in their home near a river.

Would she live with Shirou, wherever that was? What would that be like? The uncertainty was eating away at her so she shook her head, erasing the thoughts. How silly of her, getting distracted by things like this. She'd opened a picture book, Hajime reminded herself, she was supposed to either read it or close it. Reaching to turn the page, she heard the door open and looked up hopefully. There was a murmured greeting beyond the curtains surrounding her bed, before she saw the ever so familiar head of white hair peek around the corner as Shirou appeared.

And, as usual, he was wearing the same trench coat, same black shirt, same black pants, but this time he was carrying a bag with him. Hajime gazed at it for a moment before smiling up at her father, who returned it whole-heartedly.

"G'morning, Hajime," Shirou said warmly, scooting his stool closer to her bed. He placed the bag on the bedside table. "Did you eat already?" His silver eyes peered at her expectantly and she nodded, but with a slight frown. Food here always tasted bad. But, sometimes Shirou would bring her small treats like a small bread that looked like a fish, called taiyaki or something like that. Maybe some dango (was that what it was called? She wasn't sure). Shirou chuckled at this, as if he expected that response, and fished around the bag until he found what he was looking for. Taking out a bowl, that had a lid, mind you, he pulled the medical bed's table and placed the bowl on top.

Curiously, Hajime propped herself up slightly so she could look inside. There appeared to be some long, crusty things that were a pale orange-yellow, over rice. She couldn't tell what it was exactly, but it smelled amazing when he removed the plastic lid. "Daddy, what's this?" Hajime looked up at him and his smile softened a little.

"It's called tempura, it's a shrimp that's cooked and covered in a crunchy coating called panko," he explained, and Hajime watched his hands as he tried to use them to describe this 'tempura.' She nodded eagerly, and took the pre-packages chopsticks he offered her before (after struggling with breaking the chopsticks apart) attempting to pick one up.

Hajime's brows creased as she struggled with picking up the fried shellfish, her hands shaking. It was a lot heavier than she had expected, plus since the coating was soft in some places, from a type of sauce, she assumed, that just made it all the much harder for her. Shirou watched, amused, as she brought it to her mouth carefully, only for it to fall back into the bowl. A pout crossed her face and she grumbled in annoyance. Out of determination, she attempted a few more times, only to drop the tempura, every single time.

Having finally laughed enough, Shirou placed his hand on hers. "Do you want me to help you?" Hajime glared at him, and to her dismay it didn't affect him at all, it just made his eyes crease more as his smile grew. She pouted at him, relenting, and nodded. Handing the chopsticks to her father, he pulled the bowl a little closer to himself before using the chopsticks to cut off a small piece of the shrimp and picked it up with relative ease, before holding it in front of her mouth. "Come on, eat it," he encouraged.

Hajime hesitated before eating it and she chewed a few times before swallowing. He looked at her, questioningly, wondering what she thought of it. The only response he received was a soft hum, which he took to mean she liked it. Shirou continued to feed her until all the rice and tempura was gone and she was drinking from the glass of water a nurse brought her a few minutes before. "Are you full?" He asked Hajime, and she placed the cup down, nodding.

"Thanks for the food, Daddy," she smiled at him and his ears turned pink. She looked like the sweetest thing on the planet right then, pure, innocent, still incorrupted by the world around her - it almost reminded him of...

Shirou mentally shook his head, taking his mind off of it for now and focused on his daughter. He loved her, she was one of a kind, and open minded yet stubborn. He silently thanked whatever power there was that she didn't remember her life in North Korea - if she had, that would have made this whole thing painfully difficult. From what he'd heard and seen, citizens in North Korea had practically been brainwashed into believing the Kim family were gods or divine beings of some sort. Not something he would want to be true. If Hajime had remembered any of it, Shirou was sure she would have panicked upon seeing him, and either have run and possibly worsened her injuries, or attacked him with whatever was closest to her.

"Of course - I can't have you starving in here, not on my watch." They both smiled a bit at this before Shirou placed the lid back on the bowl, putting it back in the bag before pulling out two sketchbooks. One seemed used, while the other appeared to be brand new. "Hajime," he addressed her and she took note at the tone of his voice. "I've been keeping some secrets from you. They're very...important secrets, and very dangerous ones at that. I want to tell you them now, but it's too hard to explain when you're still recovering. This one will explain it a bit better than I can, and this one's just for fun," Shirou handed her the sketchbooks, which she both took, albeit with some difficulty due to their weight. "What you read in there, you can't tell anyone. If you have questions about it, let me know tomorrow, okay?"

Confused, Hajime simply nodded. Asking questions in this situation wouldn't get her anywhere, and she knew that. Shirou seemed relieved, before giving her some long, stick things. They were pointed at the end with a dark nub. Noting her response to the object, Shirou rubbed the back of his head. "That's called a pencil, the dark end leaves marks on things." Shirou took one of the pencils and drew a line across the cover of the new sketchbook. "See?"

Hajime blinked owlishly, looking at the pencil in her hand before placing the pointed end on the cover of the sketchbook and dragging it down as well. She left a light line of gray behind and studied it for a moment. It reminded her of the pens the doctors and nurses used to write on their reports. "Thank you," she looked up at Shirou, smiling again and he smiled in return, the tip of his nose reddening slightly.

"No problem. Anyway, did you have a dream last night?" Shirou lightened up as he leaned his elbow on the bedside table, watching her intently as she went on another dramatic description of her unconscious adventures.

"You adopted a child?!"

Shirou winced at the disbelief in his friend's voice as she stared at him, eyes wide. "Yes, I did. Her name's Hajime."

The woman who sat across from him rubbed her temples, closing her eyes before looking up at him, her gaze as scrutinizing as ever. She ran a finger through her brown locks and let out a heavy sigh before taking a sip of her tea. The two of them sat in silence for a moment until she placed the cup back into its saucer and looked back up at him. "Shirou, why? You're going to end up like your father, pushing your ridiculous beliefs onto the poor kid - "

"Her name is Hajime, Rin."

" - and she's not going to be able to break free from them," she frankly ignored his interruption. It was his turn to sigh as he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. Shirou briefly glanced to the window, the moonlight shining through the clear glass to clear his thoughts. Rin, this woman wouldn't let him off without a proper explanation, and even after he had given it to her she still wouldn't believe him.

"Rin, I don't intend to push my dream onto her shoulders. My dream...to save everyone, I've long realized it's not possible, it's not something I can do. However, it was because of this belief I could find her." She gave him a patronizing look. "Rin, listen! She was dying, the whole city was burning down and everyone was dead. I entered the war in hopes of helping preserve as many lives as possible, and look at what I was capable of!" Shirou's voice raised, a scowl growing on his face. Rin opened her mouth to speak but he slammed his fist onto the table, cutting her off. "I'm not going to take any of this from you. She means everything to me, Rin. She's the only one I could save, and she...she reminds me of myself when Kiritsugu found me on he rubble."

Shirou paused for a moment, before chuckling at himself, almost bitterly. "What am I even saying? She saved me. I was desperate, Rin, clawing onto any sliver of hope. They were all dying, and yet there was her, so stubbornly clinging to life. She lost everything, she lost her family, home, she even lost her identity. When I asked her what her name was, she just shook her head. Hajime has no memories of who she was, no memories of anything, other than when I pulled her out of the fire, and everything from then to now."

The two sat in silence before Rin shuffled slightly - awkwardly, even. She hadn't expected an outburst like this from Shirou. "Then...what will you teach her? You only know so much, Shirou." The white haired man gave her a hardened gaze, and she flinched again.

"I will teach her how to be happy, and appreciate life for what it is. All I want, Rin, is to see her smile. She shouldn't have suffered so much, she deserves a better life, a better family and a better environment. She deserves a clean slate, a new chapter to her life. If she wants to go to school, I'll pay for the expenses. If she wants to live in Korea again, I'll move. If she wants to learn magecraft, I'll teach her all I know. Anything she wants, I'll give it to her."

At this, Rin's brows furrowed. Shirou? Teaching a young amnesiac Projection? The odds were against him but she had to have faith in him and his odd determination, he wasn't the type to back down from a promise he made, whether it be to himself or a complete stranger.

"I won't stop you, Shirou," she sighed. "But no way am I going to let you raise her alone. I'll come visit when I can to make sure she isn't dead yet."

The white haired man chuckled at her words, any concern or frustration lifted from his features and he smiled at her. That was the woman he knew so well. "I really appreciate it, Rin."

A week or two had passed, and Hajime was to be discharged later today. Soon.

So soon.

So soon, it made Hajime's hands shake in both anxiety and excitement. What was the outside world like? She hadn't seen anything other than the pictures Shirou had brought her. Trees, streets, cars, buildings, and so many people.

Hajime hadn't seen many people since she woke up for the first time in the hospital. Just the doctor, the same five nurses, Shirou and the two other patients who shared her room. The idea of seeing "so many faces you could forget who's who" made her squeal on the inside. She couldn't wait!

But she also had her doubts - worries, concerns, whatever you prefer. The sketchbook her father had given her, the old one, it had several illustrations of strange designs, a summoning circle and links connecting unfamiliar names to one another with descriptions. The next pages were purely explanations, lectures if you will, full of complicated words Hajime didn't understand.

Things like "seongbae." What was a "seongbae?" She didn't quite understand, despite it being in her mother tongue. So, for now, she pushed it aside. If the phrases surrounding it told her anything, this "seongbae" was an extremely important and powerful object capable of mass destruction, and granting wishes. The wishes half interested her, but, sadly, with the amount of drawbacks, fighting and death written on the next page, she decided it probably wasn't worth it.

From what she could understand, this "Seongbae War" included lots of magic, people dying, and explosions, none of which were things she wanted to get involved with. Well, maybe except magic, that sounded intriguing. There was no section of the sketchbook dedicated to magic, however, there were brief mentions of things like "Mana," "Summoning," "Ritual" and "Spirits." It all sounded dangerous to her, but Hajime was sure it couldn't be completely dangerous, right? Otherwise why would people enter this "Seongbae War?"

And come to think of it, none of this book was in Japanese, the language Shirou had spoken since birth, and yet it was old. Why had he written it in Korean?

Shaking it off for now, with the help of a nurse, Hajime pulled on a pale blue long sleeved shirt, black skirt and a pair of shoes. They looked a bit like the fancy black shoes Shirou wore to his visits sometimes, and that made her a little giddy. She really loved her father. The nurse smiled at her as she twirled around a few times, thrilled to be out of the bed for good. "Come on, your dad's waiting in the main lobby."

"Okay, lets go!" Hajime grinned widely and waved good-bye to her roommates (all of which, waved in return and wished her safe travels,) before waiting for the nurse to open the door for her - she was too short to do it herself. When the white dressed man turned the knob, she was in the hallway, running down as fast as she could, despite how weak her legs felt.

"Don't run, please!" Someone called to her, but she ignored them. She didn't need to acknowledge them if she wasn't going to be here tomorrow, or the day after that.

Hajime had been to the lobby before and deliberately memorized the way there in preparation for this day, the day Shirou would take her outside and to his home. Taking the stairs two at a time, she received many calls for her to be carefully and she simply waved to them before reaching the bottom and bolting to the front desk, seeing the tall dark trench coat and white hair facing away from her.

The receptionist saw her and said something to Shirou, who turned around just in time to catch her as she threw herself at him. A little bit of breath was knocked out of him, but he laughed a Hajime clung to him, with a toothy grin as she looked up at him.

"Hey there, kiddo, ready to head outside?" She nodded quickly as he lifted her up onto his shoulders, holding onto her legs.

"Uh-huh!" Hajime placed her chin on Shirou's head, her small hands holding onto his soft white hair. "Let's go!" She cheered and Shirou chuckled again, thanking the receptionist before marching to the door.

"Onward!"