Second Date
"Shira, have you finished with all your homework assignments?"
Shira gave a start at Saber's abrupt, unexpected question, sitting up from where she'd been about to fall asleep in their futon.
"Um...yeah, actually, I have," she told him, frowning in confusion. "Why?"
Saber, who had not even lied down yet, answered Shira's question with another question. "Tomorrow is Sunday, correct?"
"Yes...?" Shira responded, still unsure of where he was going with this. "Is something important supposed to happen tomorrow?"
"Ah..." Saber paused, his previously calm demeanor being replaced by slight awkwardness. "Well...now that you mention it, there aren't any classes to attend, nor holidays to celebrate...so in that sense, I suppose there is nothing important tomorrow. Still, I was wondering..."
But his voice trailed off, leaving his sentence unfinished. He looked away from Shira, staring out into space.
"You were wondering what?" Shira prompted after about a minute of silence.
That snapped Saber from his reverie. "I—I was merely wondering..." He switched his focus back to Shira, and he reached out to gently stroke a lock of her hair, though his fingers were trembling slightly. With an intake of breath, he began again. "Shira, do you remember the outing we took towards the end of the War?"
"You mean our—oh!" Shira's eyes widened in realization. "Are you trying to ask me out on another date?"
"Yes—yes indeed," Saber said quickly, a light red blush tinging his cheeks.
Shira beamed. "Then of course I accept!" Her smile faded a little as something else occurred to her. "Is that why you insisted on watching the weather report during dinner?"
The blond nodded, his face returning to its natural color. "I wanted to be certain the weather tomorrow would be adequate for any excursion we will take."
Shira hummed. "Anything in particular you had in mind?"
Saber blinked, feeling the heat rush back to his face. "I...I will think of something, I assure you."
If Shira noticed any lack of confidence in Saber's voice, she made no sign of it.
"Shira?" Saber called over the sound of the hairdryer. "How much longer are you going to be in there?"
"Just a few more minutes!" she replied from the closed bathroom.
Saber forced back a sigh; at the rate Shira was going, "a few more minutes" could mean another hour of waiting out in the hall. He had planned for their date to begin as soon as breakfast was eaten and the dishes were washed, but Shira wanted to freshen up before they left home. By freshening up, she apparently meant that every last particle of her appearance—her body, her face, her hair, and her clothing—had to be nothing less than impeccable.
Even so, Saber couldn't complain too much; the more time Shira spent in the bathroom, the more time he had to think about what exactly he could do to court her. He thought about the courting rituals used in his time. Back then, a few ways knights could woo ladies were through brave deeds, poetry, or songs. Feats of valor would be difficult to come by in this era, and at any rate, Shira would be more likely to scold Saber for endangering himself than anything else. As for writing a poem, he didn't think he was that creative, and while he knew of karaoke bars, he had doubts that he'd be good at serenading his former Master.
He supposed he would have to improvise.
Saber was broken out of his thoughts by the sound of the bathroom door opening, and he straightened up in time to see Shira finally walking out. Her face appeared as fresh and clean as it ever was, her hair looked soft and smooth and had the lingering scent of shampoo clinging to it, and she'd changed out of her nightgown and robe into a short-sleeved yellow shirt and white pants.
"Suddenly I feel thankful that Fuji-nee dragged me to an all-girls shopping spree several weeks ago—now I actually have nice clothes to choose from." Shira grinned at her own joke, then sobered as she studied Saber's face for his reaction. "What do you think? Do I look okay?"
He spent a moment looking her over; in all honesty, she could have worn a mud-stained burlap sack and she'd still catch his eye. There was nothing especially fancy or expensive about the clothes as far as Saber could tell, but the shirt and pants fit Shira's petite build like a glove on a hand, and the light colors—yellow for warmth, white for innocence—suited her perfectly.
"You look very nice," he told her, smiling slightly. "I don't know why it was so imperative for you to spend over an hour trying to improve what needs no improvement."
Shira blushed at the praise. "Thanks. You might be flattering me a little, but thanks."
"Believe me, Shira, I don't flatter." Saber offered his hand to her. "Shall we be off, then?"
Shira's only response was a nod as she grasped his hand.
When they reached Fuyuki City's shopping district, the first place Saber ended up taking Shira was a small flower shop, figuring it was as good a place as any to start. Ever the gentleman, he held the door open for her, and the appreciative smile she gave warmed him more than the sun shining in the mid-morning sky. Once they were inside the establishment, they were met with the sights and smells of various flowers. The many colored blossoms—white, yellow, red, pink, purple, blue, orange, and green—covered shelves, tables, and even the floor, and they were all placed in either plastic or glass vases filled with water.
The cashier, a young dark-haired woman who seemed to be the only other person in the store, jumped a little, startled, from where she stood behind the counter, and her face lit up upon seeing customers. "Welcome, welcome!" she greeted with a deep bow, her voice a mixture of enthusiasm and relief. Saber and Shira had barely inclined their heads when she continued. "You're my first customers today! Are you two here to make an order? Any flowers you want to buy?"
"I think we'll just be looking around for now," Shira told the cashier. "But we'll let you know if we find anything we like," she added hastily when the woman's face fell.
"It would appear that business is slow," Saber observed as he and Shira walked through the shop, passing rows of tulips, daffodils, bluebells, and chrysanthemums.
"Not many people under fifty buy flowers much anymore," the redhead explained, "unless it's for a special occasion, like a wedding or a funeral. The woman up front must've been excited to see two teenagers here."
The words were barely out of Shira's mouth when she gasped. Several paces away was a table with vases of roses placed on it. She raced over to the table, Saber trailing behind her, and picked up a white vase containing twelve burgundy roses.
"Wow, these are so pretty!" Shira gushed, smiling from ear to ear. "I don't think I've ever seen roses this shade of red before."
The corners of Saber's mouth curved upward. The first flower that got her attention, and it was one that meant the recipient was beautiful even though they didn't realize it. I wonder if she knows that.
"Would you like me to buy them for you?" Saber asked.
Shira turned to him in surprise. "Wait, really? You want to?"
"Certainly, if you have no objections."
"N-no, of course not; it's sweet of you ask, I just..." Shira's face was flushed pink, and she laughed sheepishly. "I guess it just never occurred to me that you'd want to buy me a present. I think I'm still trying to get used to the whole relationship thing."
Saber nodded in understanding, and when he didn't say anything after a few seconds, Shira switched her attention back to the roses she held.
"Anyway," she said, "there should be a price tag some...where...?" Her jaw dropped as she looked at the vase. "Oh, my God!"
"What is it?" Saber asked.
"Look at this!" Shira shoved the roses into his hands. Puzzled by her sudden shock, Saber examined the vase, and it didn't take long before he realized the reason for Shira's exclamation.
It was a small sticker showing the price for the flowers.
A very high price.
Saber's eyes widened in disbelief. "Thirty-five thousand yen for one bouquet?!"
In the end, they bought a few violets for the far less absurd price of seventeen hundred yen ("They'll brighten up the dining room!" Shira told the cashier cheerfully) before they left the shop. Shira clutched the paper-wrapped purple flowers in her left hand as she and Saber walked the city streets.
"I am sorry," Saber said after several minutes of silence, "that I could not afford those roses."
"Don't worry about it," Shira answered, turning her head to see his downcast expression. "It's not your fault they were so expensive. I'll bet those were wedding flowers, and anything involving a wedding's bound to be pricey."
"Perhaps," the blond said doubtfully. "Still, you were quite enamored with them."
"They were beautiful, but it's not the end of the world that we couldn't take them home with us. Besides," a small, playful grin tugged at Shira's lips, "I didn't fall in love with you because I thought you'd shower me with flashy knickknacks."
Saber did not reply to that. By this time, they had arrived at the park, and the former Servant allowed his gaze to drift towards the large patch of grass surrounded by the brick road. "Be that as it may..."
He strode towards the grass, ignoring Shira's confused, "Saber, what are you...?" as she followed him. He knelt down, plucked a yellow dandelion, and stood back up. Turning to face Shira, he held out the dandelion to her.
"This dandelion might not be as lovely as a rose—it might not even be a flower—but I give it to you regardless."
Shira stared at the yellow-headed weed, then at Saber's solemn face, her heart skipping a beat. He really wants to treat me like a princess, doesn't he? It was like something out of a novel, where the handsome male lead charmed the heroine and swept her off her feet. If someone had told her two months ago that a man would want to give her a gift simply out of affection for her, she would've laughed. As it was, being doted on, for lack of a better phrase, was a very new thing, even if it was flattering. Feeling her cheeks heating up, she accepted the dandelion, adding it to the violets.
"Uh...thank you," she told Saber. "I'll put it in the dining room with the flowers." With that said, she abruptly took hold of his hand, her blush fading. "Come on, let's go sit down."
While they walked, it was Saber's turn to redden as he looked at his fingers intertwined with Shira's. If she wasn't used to being treated like royalty, then he wasn't accustomed to such casual physical contact. Oh, they had their share of embraces and kisses during the week following their reunion—the euphoria that came with their being together again hadn't quite worn off yet—but that was when they were alone at the Emiya estate. Holding hands where people could possibly see them—something Shira had been prone to initiating over the last seven days, whether it was here in the park, at school, or even during mealtimes with Taiga, Ilyasviel, Rin, and Sakura—made their relationship seem more...well, public, more open to the view of the general populace than when it was just the two of them in the privacy of their home.
A quick scan around the park was enough for Saber to know that none of the other parkgoers—mostly couples and young families, it seemed—were paying them any mind. That lessened the awkwardness somewhat, he thought as Shira led him to one of the benches. She was still holding his hand when they sat down.
For a while, there was nothing but silence between them as they let their eyes wander, whether they looked at the trees, the bushes, the cloud-filled sky, other people, their joined hands, or each other when one didn't think the other would notice. Eventually, Saber caught Shira eyeing him, and she blushed and pretended to have been watching a small flock of white pigeons that were walking on the road.
"Wish I'd thought to get some seeds or something," Shira said presently, "then we could've fed them."
Saber watched the pigeons for a few seconds. "Speaking of food, I could prepare dinner tonight if you wish."
Shira snapped her gaze to him, eyebrows raised incredulously as she finally let go of his hand. "Seriously? Have you ever even used a stove before?"
"I have cooked food over open fires—surely a stove would not be so different," Saber answered, shrugging. "Besides, I have watched you, Rin, and Sakura prepare several meals."
"Still, I think I ought to help—" Shira suddenly stopped speaking at the sound of her stomach growling.
"Time for lunch, I take it?" The words were barely out of Saber's mouth when a growl rumbled from his own stomach.
"Sounds like it," Shira said with a slight laugh, standing up from the bench. "Let's find somewhere to eat."
Before long, they were back on the streets, keeping their eyes open for a restaurant. After several minutes of walking, Shira could have sworn she heard a rumbling that wasn't coming from either her or Saber's stomachs.
"Did you hear that?" she asked, stopping short and looking around town.
"Hear what?" Saber wanted to know, stopping as well.
Shira took a look at the sky. Was it just her, or did the clouds appear darker than they had only ten minutes ago?
"I think it sounded like—"
But before Shira could finish, there was a loud clap of thunder and rain started falling.
Both of them froze upon feeling the sudden torrent drench them, and Saber cursed.
After one mad dash throughout town and one ride on a bus so crowded that they had to stand in the middle of the aisle, Saber and Shira managed to find a café.
"This is not how I expected the day turning out," a scowling Saber muttered once they entered the brightly lit and thankfully warm building. The café was filled with the pleasant scents of food and drink, accompanied by the general hustle and bustle of a restaurant—customers seated at small square tables talked amongst each other as they ate, while waiters took orders, served the patrons, and cleaned tabletops—which was almost enough to mute the noise of the rain lashing the windows.
Even so, the overall atmosphere would have been better appreciated had Shira and Saber not been too busy shivering. Their hair—not to mention their clothes—were thoroughly soaked; if Saber had thought Shira's yellow shirt and white pants fit her this morning, the garments clung to her like a second skin now, and he was doing his utmost to look at anything but her. For her part, Shira was also careful to not stare at Saber too much, since his white shirt had become see-through.
"Well, I don't see how it could be worse," Shira said, trying to remain positive even as she eyed the rather pitiful state of the drooping violets and dandelion she, amazingly enough, still held.
It wasn't even a minute after she spoke that she was forced to eat her words.
"Wow, looks like someone got caught in the storm." A pretty waitress no older than Shira rushed over to them with towels, and the latter fought back a groan as she noticed how the former was staring at Saber like he was a particularly good piece of meat. So much for things not being worse.
"It was...unexpected, yes," Saber replied, forcing his features into polite neutrality as he brushed his wet bangs out of his face. He was seemingly unaware of how the waitress was shamelessly looking him up and down—and of how Shira was silently fuming beside him.
The waitress held the towels out. "Here; dry off before you catch a cold." A small, mischievous grin crossed her face, one eyebrow raised suggestively. "Unless, of course, you need some help, sir."
Saber opened his mouth, presumably to say that that would not be necessary, but Shira beat him to it.
"How very considerate of you, but he doesn't need your help." A slight but hard edge was present in Shira's otherwise cordial-sounding voice as she stepped forward with a strained smile. She gave Saber the flowers, snatched the towels out of the waitress' hands with more force than necessary, and practically threw one in Saber's direction. "May we have a table for two, please?"
For a split second, the waitress glared at Shira, but she quickly smiled again as if nothing had happened. "Sure, come with me." She led the couple to a table in the upper right-hand corner of the café, Saber and Shira towel-drying themselves as they followed her.
"Soooo, handsome," the waitress drawled once they were seated opposite each other and she pulled a pen and notepad from her skirt pocket, her full attention once again on Saber, who had settled his towel around his shoulders so that less of his shirt was visible, "what can I get for you today?"
Again, Saber remained impassive, choosing not to respond to the girl's flirtations. After a swift perusal of his menu, he said, "I will have a caffé macchiato and a cheddar tramezzino."
The waitress jotted down Saber's order. "And what will your sister want?"
What did she just call me?! Shira thought, having gone from irritated to outright livid. Hitting on Saber was bad enough, but misinterpreting their relationship (and doing so deliberately, she suspected) was something else entirely. The redhead didn't even register her towel falling from her shoulders as she clenched her fist on the tabletop near where the flowers rested. She pressed her lips together tightly to keep from spewing out whatever nasty things she was tempted to say.
On Saber's part, hearing the waitress refer to Shira as his sister finally provoked a reaction from him. "I beg your pardon?" he asked, confounded, his eyes widening as much as they had after discovering the price for the burgundy roses as he stared at the waitress.
"His girlfriend will have what he's having," Shira said before Saber could continue; if looks could kill, the waitress would have been dead on the spot.
Clearly, the girl realized this, if the fearful parting of her lips was any indication. "Uh...okay." She forced another smile as she hastily wrote something down. "Coming right up!" She did not look at Saber again as she hurried from the table.
Shira huffed once the waitress was gone. "I'd suggest we get our lunches to go, but it doesn't sound like the rain's gonna be letting up any time soon."
Saber slowly shook his head. "I believe that is the first time anyone has assumed we were related."
"'Assume'? More like 'ignore the obvious.' We don't even look like we'd be siblings, for crying out loud! And what did she think we had flowers for? To crush them and put them in a stew?"
"You did say earlier today that young people do not usually purchase flowers. Perhaps she thought they were for a funeral?"
"Oh, please. You buy chrysanthemums for funerals, not violets. Next you'll tell me she totally wasn't going to try to feel you up with that 'here, let me help you dry yourself' offer."
"Is...that not what you are doing right now?"
"Huh?" Shira's jealous indignation melted into confusion as she looked underneath the table. At some point, she had placed her hand on Saber's knee, her grip firm, even possessive. "Oh!" She jerked away, her face suddenly feeling hot. "S-sorry about that."
"You are forgiven; no lasting harm done." Saber tried to smile in reassurance, but his face quickly fell as he peered over Shira's shoulder and out the large window at the other side of the café. True to her word, the rain showed no sign of stopping. "I fear I cannot say the same for our outing."
Shira stayed silent for a few moments before her lips perked up in a small grin. "Well, if we disregard a lying weatherman and an inappropriately flirty waitress, today hasn't been a total loss."
Saber looked back at the redhead, his frown deepening. "You don't need to feign enjoyment for my sake."
"No, really, I mean it," she said in earnest. "The flower shop was lovely, the park was nice, and the weather..." she paused, her smile fading slightly, "well, at least it started out great, right?"
You are ever the optimist, Shira, Saber couldn't help thinking, and not unkindly. Still, while he may not have had a definite plan in mind for this date, he certainly had not imagined getting caught unaware by a rainstorm, rushing to find the first place they could eat at, and sitting here still feeling damp from what must have been, at the very least, fifteen minutes of running in the rain.
At present, Saber let out a sigh. "You do have a point, although I still wish things had gone differently."
"There'll be other dates," Shira promised. "Besides, today's not over yet. We can go home after lunch."
"Home?" Saber blinked. "Would that not mean the end of our date?"
"Not necessarily." Another smile spread across Shira's features. "I think you'll like what I have in mind."
It was only some time after they had eaten their sandwiches and drank their coffees, followed by yet another rain-filled run to a bus that took them back to the Emiya estate, that Saber discovered what Shira was planning. Once home, they took turns showering and getting into dry clothes, then they put on raincoats and headed outside to go to the dojo.
Before long, Shira and Saber were crossing shinais, just as they had during the fifth Grail War. The minutes went by as they sparred; their practice swords collided together again and again as one deflected an attack from the other, punctuated by Shira's labored breathing and occasional pained grunt as Saber landed a hit on her.
"How is it," Shira panted in between blows, "that you never get winded when we train?"
"I have plenty of endurance," Saber informed her, dodging one of her swings. "That's what happens when you have years of practice."
She quickly shook sweaty strands of hair out of her face, then lunged forward to strike. "Guess I'd forgotten just how good you are."
"Well, I was called the King of Knights," the blond said, grinning wryly as he dodged again.
Shira let out an amused snort at that. "You know, I thought about sparring as a way to make you feel better, not to inflate your ego," she chided playfully.
"I assure you, it's working."
"What, that you're feeling better, or that your ego's inflating?"
"The former, of course. Pride would not be suitable for a knight."
"This from the guy who's thrashing me up and down the dojo?"
Saber chuckled. "Now, Shira, I may love you, but you can hardly expect me to be gentle with you during training."
A smirk crossed Shira's lips. "Good thing I don't plan on giving up, then."
They resumed trading blows after that. Despite what their banter may have suggested, Shira was impressed by Saber's swordplay. There was nothing flashy or flamboyant about it; every move he made—whether it was an attack, a parry, or a dodge—was quick and efficient. Even as she found herself doing more defending than attacking, she couldn't help but be mesmerized by him: his calm, collected expression; the steady coolness in his blue-green eyes; his mouth set in a thin, straight line. This was a man who'd spent his whole life training in combat, and it came to him as effortlessly as breathing. King of Knights, indeed.
She was staring at his mouth when his shinai knocked her own out of her hand. He pointed his weapon at her, a hint of another grin forming on his face.
"Do you yield now?" he asked.
At any other time, Shira would have grabbed her shinai from the floor and insisted on continuing. Instead, without a word and with her eyes still on Saber's mouth, she closed the distance between them, cupped his cheek, and pressed her lips to his.
Saber went rigid in surprise, his body frozen for a moment. Shira smelled of sweat and tasted very slightly of coffee, but her lips were as soft as always. Dimly, as if it were happening several miles away, he heard his shinai fall with a tiny thump. He closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around her middle, and willingly yielded to her kiss.
Neither of them noticed when the rain finally stopped.
Author's Note: And, with that bit of fluffiness, we have completed another chapter! Next time, we'll be back in the "Gilgamesh rapes Shira" universe, but I should warn you that I'll be taking time off to resume working on my original novel. That time off could be anything from a few weeks to several months, and of course, I'll have to return to the depressing, writer's-block-inducing world of "Burning Angel Wings to Dust," so don't expect a speedy update.