AN: No, before you ask, Shared Resonance has nothing to do with this story.

Fate/Far Side: Synchronized Body

Chapter 5

Surface Below

Not allowing any mistakes I've made cause a situation like before was, admittedly, not something I had full control over. The problems last time were confounded by multiple layers of issues that I'm not sure how I could have dealt with all at once. I'm not even sure I could have solved anything had everything lined up in an orderly fashion and let me have first crack at them.

But I knew what not to do, and that was let it passively go. Completely forfeiting on venturing into town, I spent every moment after breakfast pestering Kohaku in that evil way she managed to draw all kinds of information out of me when I first came here. Every mention she had given before, on Akiha Tohno, on Shiki Tohno, on her work here, on her interest in pharmaceuticals and Chinese medicine, everything was a part of my arsenal. Even her habit of closing the refrigerator door with her hip. I pestered her whether she thought riding a bullet train was fun, if she preferred to be early to a doctor's appointment, if she ever got tired of any jokes directed her way when watching the Kohaku special on New Years.

And, like her, I realized something in the areas she did not talk about, the gaps in which a normal person would easily make reference to:

No comments about family, except for her sister.

Yet again, my own experiences were probably not the greatest of comparisons. It is, though, a noticeable trait I'd found when thinking back on it all. As strange as his home life was, Issei would make casual references to life in the temple, growing up, his family, even Kuzuki-sensei. Mitsuzuri would too. Most of the people I knew at school were like that.

The black hole of Shinji and Sakura's family had since come to bother me. In the time I'd been Shinji's friend, I never once heard anything about his father or mother and the few times I'd visited his house, it just hadn't really occurred to me to think on the subject much. The same had gone with Sakura after she started coming over to my place. All of my attention had been on the friction between her and her brother. Zouken Matou was not a name I had heard until the war, and that terrible absence was something I looked back at and shuddered over.

"Really, I don't think much about it," Kohaku had said when I edged her into the topic. "I mean, it has been a very long time."

While Tohno-san clearly treated Kohaku and Hisui well and got along with them fine, it still must be a psychologically difficult thing. I couldn't exactly criticize the old-fashioned nature of raising a servant class for an old and powerful family like this—it just wasn't the world I knew—but even the most acceptable conditions still had to come along with its share of problems.

I should really look into taking some psychology classes or something if I decide to pursue university.

"Didn't you say that you were looking for a doctor around these parts?" Kohaku asked, apparently trying to change the subject.

"Didn't you say you worked for Interpol as a spy?"

"I said I was fired from there a long while ago."

I grinned in triumph. "You said you were fired from an agency, not Interpol in particular."

Kohaku puffed her cheeks out like a chipmunk. I followed her through the house toward the kitchen: I supposed she would be starting up the evening meal and I would continue my assault with her attention divided. "Seriously though, isn't it why you're here?"

"Well, yeah, though it's late enough now that starting now would be kind of silly." I glanced out the window near the front door—though it was not yet dark out, the grayish sky was starting to thicken beyond the regular overcast light. "Besides, can't a guy just flirt around with a girl normally, since he was true to his word and didn't attack her in her sleep?"

"Hmmm." The maid could not give a further reply, though, as her sister swept down the stairs, her arms laden with a large suitcase. "Hisui-chan?"

"Nee-san," Hisui said. "They should be here momentarily."

"They—" Kohaku blinked, then her eyes widened. "Wait, didn't I—oh damn."

I wanted to grill the elder sister over her sudden shift in language, but I followed her horrified gaze out the same window to peer at what was just pulling up beyond the main gate to the house.

A black car and a limousine.

"What was that?" Tohno-san asked, descending the stairs after Hisui. She then caught sight of Hisui's luggage, then glanced out the window. "Wait, what's going on?"

The limo oddly did not quite stand out like it should have. The size of the Tohno estate and everything else I had learned about the family suggested the wealth Tohno-san held, so I guess I wasn't all that surprised to see something like that. But just looking at the car, I could see within its structure the kind of armor plating that foreign dignitaries had, though the vehicle itself screamed something like yakuza or some dangerous form of organized crime.

Tohno-san eyed the vehicles, then shook her head after she seemed to place their relevance. "What do they want now? Haven't they heard of a phone?" Her eyebrows shot up, then she spared a look at Hisui as something in her head must have clicked. "Wait a second…"

"Well, the thing is—" Kohaku started.

With a glare over her shoulder that could probably strip paint at fifty paces, Tohno-san said, "You, quiet. I'll take care of this. And then we're going to talk, and you're not going to like it." She turned her gaze to Hisui. "And you, stay right where you are."

Making a note: Never let Tohno-san and Tohsaka meet. Ever.

The head of the house flung the door open and strode out with her shoulders squared. I had this strange sensation that felt almost like a literal tear inside of me: on the one hand, the childish side that wanted to cheer her on, and on the other, the side of me that looked at the gangster-esque car out there and wanted to tell her to keep her head down or risk being shot in the head.

Neither happened, though, as the young woman was met with a trio of suited men stepping out of the car to flank the limo. The rear passenger window opened and whoever was inside apparently began speaking. Tohno-san listened for a short while, then her mouth moved in reply, though nothing carried the entire distance between the gate and the house.

"Oh, what a screw-up," Kohaku said under her breath. For the first time since coming here, the maid's lips and eyebrows formed a genuine frown, something completely unlike the over-exaggerated expressions she usually made. "Please wait here for a moment, Shirou-san."

She stepped out of the doorway and down to the gate and the odd gathering of people. I peered out after her, then glanced back over my shoulder to Hisui. "Who are these people?"

"The Touzaki," Hisui said. Despite the fact that her suitcase had to be rather heavy, she still held it before her rather than set it down. "Relatives to the Tohno."

"The branch family?" I remembered what Kohaku had said earlier when I'd caught her on the phone late at night. It really could not have been a coincidence. "They need you for something?"

Hisui was silent for a long while, gazing out the doorway to the situation at hand. She seemed to rapidly string together a series of varying thoughts that showed right on her face, from relief to worry, and I was tempted to say something that would probably get me in a lot of trouble. Something like, I'll protect you all, don't worry. But the girl seemed to then process my question and said, "I do not believe it is your concern, nor my place to speak of it."

"You're right," I said.

The entire situation—I wasn't really sure what exactly was going on, but intuitively I could piece together enough to work from. The way that Tohno-san looked mightily peeved, the way Kohaku had run out and apparently was trying to smooth things over, Hisui's reticence, even just the vacant feeling in the air. I looked back around the foyer of the house and thought of how huge it was, the only sound a distant grandfather clock, and how empty it felt despite these three girls—

The same kind of emptiness I would someday return home to. Even if the numerical setup had not changed from years back, just as it seemed like the three here had lived like this for a while yet, something felt fundamentally different. For me, it was obvious—but for this family, I wondered if it was the absent elder brother whose name would crop up occasionally.

"You're right," I repeated. "I'll just go and be incredibly rude to Kohaku as usual and make it my busin—"

One of the suited men then grabbed Kohaku's arm.

"Nevermind."

Well, knight-in-shining-armor or not, I really wasn't going to sit around with that happening.

Though Tohno-san's voice had risen and she was practically screaming at the men to stop, apparently they had decided that it was entirely suitable to ignore what a teenage girl was telling them. A door to the limousine was now open and they looked like they might be attempting to drag Kohaku in. The maid was struggling to pull herself free, though she was also saying something I couldn't make out over Tohno-san's shouting.

I wove in between Tohno-san and Kohaku, coming back up around the maid to strike at her captor from the front. I hit the arm holding Kohaku at the elbow with my elbow, hyperextending the limb and wrenching the man's grip away. He instantly responded with a right hook, but as close as I was, the field was to my advantage: Tohsaka's Bajiquan lessons gave me enough to work with. I caught his hook with my other arm, then brought my elbow back around and came up simultaneously with my knee, catching the servant in the chest at two points and knocking him completely clear.

The two other bodyguards moved to surround us and I could hear the scrape of metal-on-leather, the sound of weapons being drawn. I set myself to intercept further attacks, though I had to cringe a little at the odds. Out in the open like this, it would be problematic to use magic, and I rather doubt that I could take on three trained bodyguards with only the basics Tohsaka had given me.

"Is that any way to treat a lady?" I said. Tohno-san added a huff beside me, a noise of agreement, flicking her hair over her shoulder in the universal disdain that only women could project.

"Stop," came the voice from within the vehicle.

I let my eyes travel to the very edges of my vision to appraise the one sitting within—old and balding, liver-spotted, wrinkled, though hale enough to still look authoritative and firm. Slouched as he was within the confines of the limousine, I could not gather how tall he was exactly, though he did project enough to come across as bigger than he probably was physically.

His voice came in, annoyed, though not at all surprised. "I should warn that my people are highly trained in swordsmanship and boxing, boy. I highly doubt one as young as yourself has seen service in the JSDF like Kei there." He flicked a finger toward the one furthest from me, also the most physically imposing of the three.

"And I might warn you that I'm still right here," Tohno-san said, her voice falling to a near-guttural growl.

The three men all made faint twitches at that, whether a tensing of muscles or a quicker intake of breath. Apparently, there was something inherently concerning to them about that, though the limo passenger seemed to disregard it. "I don't think you understand your predicament, Akiha-chan," the old man said. He motioned toward Kohaku like he could shoo her away with his fingertips. "That one is trying to ruin us. You, me, the entire family. She's playing games with us." His eyes narrowed, turning him into something like an old wolf, still ornery enough to bite you to death if you dared intrude on his territory. "If you don't let us handle it, you're going to find yourself up to your neck in trouble."

"It's a good thing my head will be clear, then," Tohno-san said. "We have nothing more to discuss. What plans you had must change. I require both of the sisters here."

The old man sighed, long and deliberate-like. He made a waving motion, and the three guards seemed to take that as a back-down signal. They withdrew back a pace or two. "And I require that the head of house Tohno learn some wisdom," the old man said. "If you refuse to, what is the phrase…'get with the program'? I will have no choice but to take stronger measures to ensure the safety of the line."

Tohno-san kept an entirely-straight poker face.

"Fine then." He reached out to close the door, but fixed me with a pitying stare before he pulled it closed. "Boy, if you're a new hire…you'd better get yourself a new job."

Only when they were out of sight did I let my guard drop. There was something else underlying this all, more than just the regular kind of danger sense that occurred whenever money was involved: this felt a little bigger than that, though I couldn't place exactly from where that feeling came from. For all I knew, it was just Saber's senses rubbing off on me and giving me the impression of danger that would keep my skin firmly affixed to my body if I heeded it.

Though Tohno-san thanked me for my intervention, she looked frustrated all the same. "I know there was probably nothing else to be done, but, you really shouldn't rush into things like that. They might have really hurt you."

Yeah, I sort of got that. Still.

"Still," she said, shrugging helplessly, "you're not the real problem. If you'll excuse me."

She grabbed Kohaku by the wrist and dragged the maid back to the mansion, somehow politely excluding me from the discussion while being extremely impolite to the maid at once. They swept past Hisui, who looked a little confused—she had finally set her suitcase down.

I needed to remember to send a letter to old man Raiga someday, thanking him for never coming down on people like that.

Except Fuji-nee. Maybe he should have been more forceful with her.

I was able to get to cook for them after all.

Tohno-san and Kohaku took a long while discussing things—by which I mean, Tohno-san seemed to yell every now and then, loud enough to echo through the house a bit—and it took enough time that I just started up dinner until such a time I was told to cease and desist.

Hisui relented, apparently deciding that she would explain her side of it, at least, as she waited around the kitchen as well, clearly distressed by what the others were possibly arguing over. "Nee-san arranged for me to be taken in by the Touzaki as they have been pressuring Akiha-sama over decisions she made some three years ago."

Once again, what was left unsaid gave me a good idea of the situation. "You mean, you would be a gift."

"It was not Akiha-sama's decision," Hisui said. "Nee-san kept it from her so Akiha-sama would not feel the responsibility."

"Pretty sure she'd feel it anyway," I said, probably with a little more venom in it than I wanted.

"I just…if there is something I can do to solve it, I would," Hisui said.

I stopped my nori-rolling to give Hisui my full attention at that; the conviction in her voice seemed too much to not accept directly. I had the feeling that she felt very upset over this turnout—else she would not be so forthcoming. "I'm sure that, whatever the case may be, there is still a way to work this out without splitting you all up. If you can get your sister to think on it harder, I bet she'd find a way."

Hisui looked away at that. Whether in disbelief or despair, I couldn't tell—but whatever it was that was going through her head, it did not seem pleasant.

Dinner was held in uncomfortable silence. Tohno-san praised my cooking, but it was very clear her thoughts were elsewhere; Kohaku seemed to eat rather listlessly, and Hisui was more concerned with her sister than anything else.

Sleep once more would refuse to come.

Between the haunted look Kohaku had the moment she had spotted those cars and the worry Hisui had expressed earlier, my thoughts only constantly drifted back to the disparity I felt, the sad girl I remembered and the façade she gave me now, years later. It bothered me enough that I didn't even get under the covers of the bed and alternatively ended up pacing my room and staring at the window and the faint reflection of myself I saw in it.

Until a faint hint of red caught my eye.

The reason for it was fairly weak—it was overcast outside, and while there was some moisture in the air, it was nothing but a tiny drip here and there—but that really didn't matter. I sped out of my room as fast as I could without being overly noisy, charged down the stairway, and out the front door.

Kohaku waited out at the gate, the umbrella I had given her in hand—a sign, I hoped. She gazed out vacantly down the street, that smiling mask of hers gone, replaced by something more subdued, melancholy.

I did a poor job at making it not seem like I was making straight for her, did a poor job at seeming like I was just sleeplessly wandering as before. But the maid didn't seem to mind as I approached, the sound of my footsteps giving me away. She held the umbrella out higher, what I took as something of an invitation.

"He's right, you know," Kohaku said.

"He?"

She shrugged and tilted the umbrella down the road in the same direction as the Touzaki cars had gone. "The old man Touzaki. He's right. You probably should get a different job. Like a chef at a restaurant, maybe."

"You mean, as opposed to being a jobless bum that wanders around the country," I said.

"I mean…as opposed to staying around here." A shadow of that mocking smile she had before crept onto her lips, but it was marred by the earnest way she looked up at me. "You've been very nice, Shirou-san. I don't want you to get mixed up in all of this."

"Mm." I gave a neutral sort of mumble, tried to stall for something to say. Sometimes, I wished that, for all I teased Tohsaka for messing up at just the wrong time with the things she thought of or said, I didn't do so because I wasn't a lot like her in that regard. I had a feeling like I could very well say the exact wrong thing at this moment, and it would all blow up in my face.

You never were very good with words.

The warm feeling around my neck suffused my nerves, and whether it was insight provided by that presence or my own unconscious idea, I didn't know, but my hand came up to curl around Kohaku's hand, the hand still gripping the umbrella.

No words, this time. Just try to do something—because words once failed you before.

Kohaku didn't respond to the touch, returned to peering out down the street, but at the very least, I felt like I hadn't said or done the wrong thing.

The message was delivered by courier, delivered within a day despite the distance it had to travel. To the modern world, it might have been something of an anarchism, a relic of olden times, since post was a simple mailbox away now. But here, in the heart of Japan, still far from the hustle and bustle of city life, where tradition still flourished—

It was a simple letter, simple and decisive, with the seal from the head of the Touzaki family.

"Your presence is required immediately."

Synchronized Body, Surface Below, End